The door of the next apartment over opened. A head full of curly white hair poked out. “It’s okay, Mrs. Clusky. I’m sorry for the disturbance.”
She grumbled something unintelligible but went back inside her place.
Marty wore a pair of jeans and a chocolate brown sweater. He was clean-shaven and smelled like basil and strawberries. Chris wanted to climb into Marty’s arms. Kiss him, hold him, get all kinds of naked with him. “Sure,” he said, instead of doing any of those things. “Come in.”
Marty rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Thanks.” He pulled the door closed behind him. Before Chris could ask why he was there, Marty said, “I don’t want to take a break. Not from you, Chris. There are a lot of things in my life I’d like to forget, I’d like to never have to think about again. You are not one of those things.” Marty’s eyes shined glassy and wet. “I miss you, man. And I don’t know if you miss me or not, but I had to tell you. I had to… You have to know that I’m better with you. If you don’t want to see me, be with me, I’ll understand, but I couldn’t go back to base without at least trying.”
“Stop,” Chris said. His heart pounding, he took a step toward Marty. “Just stop talking and kiss me.”
Marty didn’t hesitate. He wrapped Chris in his arms, and then jerked back with an “Ouch!”
Chris grimaced. “Sorry.” He put Killer down. “I forgot I was holding her.”
Marty laughed as he rubbed his chest where she’d nabbed him. “She didn’t forget.” He moved back into Chris’s arms.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?”
Marty cupped the back of Chris’s neck and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Their lips parted, their tongues twined, as the passion between them exploded.
Chris moaned as Marty rubbed his bulging jeans against him. He needed Marty naked. He grabbed the bottom of Marty’s sweater and tugged it over his head.
“Jesus, you’ve got a great body.” He stroked his hands down Marty’s hairy chest. “I could come just looking at you.”
“There’s the dirty mouth I’ve missed so much.” Marty smiled. He slid his palms over Chris’s ass.
“I like the way your hands feel on me.” Chris unbuttoned Marty’s jeans and shoved them down. “You have on too many clothes.”
“It’s October.”
“I’m finding it unseasonably warm right now.” He wrapped his hand around Marty’s thick erection. “Downright hot, even.”
Marty groaned. “I want you, Chris. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I want you too,” Chris said. His breath quickened under the intensity of Marty’s gaze and words. “I want you so much it scares me.”
Marty kissed him, their lips pressed in a fierce dance of desire, their hands roaming over naked flesh, kneading, caressing…memorizing. Chris had prayed for this moment, dreamed of it since he’d broken up with Marty. How could he have been so stupid as to let such a good man go? Chris’s mouth moved hard and fast over Marty’s. Devouring. Drinking passion like a thirsty man dying of dehydration.
Marty kicked off his sneakers and pushed his jeans down far enough that he could shake them off. He walked forward, directing Chris toward the bedroom. Their cocks brushed together in an erotic dance as Chris felt the back of his knees at the foot of his bed.
“Condoms and lube are in the drawer,” Chris said.
Marty grinned. “I know,” he said. “I’ve been here before.”
“Not enough.” Chris breathed the words into his mouth. “Never enough.”
Marty pushed Chris back onto the bed, and he hit it with a bounce. He watched Marty go to the bedside stand and open the top drawer. He pulled out a condom and a bottle of Astroglide.
Chris shivered with anticipation. He sat up on the edge of the bed, his legs over the side. He spread his knees, inviting Marty to stand in front of him. “Come here,” he said. “I want to suck you. It’s been too long since I’ve had you in my mouth. Way too long.”
He caressed Marty’s balls, gently rolling them with his fingers as he slid his lips over the thickly veined cock. Marty’s moan of pleasure made him even more eager as he licked and sucked, the salt of pre-cum dancing over his taste buds. He worked his mouth up and down the hard shaft, stroking Marty with his lips.
When Marty’s hips jerked, Chris stroked faster.
“Stop,” Marty panted. “Stop. I’m going to come.”
Chris wanted him to come, wanted to swallow him down, to take as much of Marty into him as he could.
Marty put his fingers under Chris’s chin. “Chris,” he said sharply.
Chris stopped. He let Marty’s cock slip from between his lips. Marty gently lifted Chris’s chin. He stared down at him, his eyes soft, his mouth slack. “I want you inside me. I need it. I need…”
Chris stood, taking Marty into his arms. He turned with him and guided him back onto the bed. Marty crawled backward as Chris followed him. He nudged Marty’s thighs apart.
Marty’s dark brown hair was soft and cool under his warm fingertips. He gazed down at his lover, losing himself in Marty’s amber gaze. “I need you too.”
* * * *
Pecker Tracks
Marty stared up at Chris, aching for him like he’d never ached for anyone. Getting a blow job felt good, wonderful even, but he wanted to come with Chris inside him. There was a state of pure bliss achieved during an orgasm while being invaded, filled, by Chris, that Marty desperately desired. When Chris made love to him, when they fucked, Marty felt alive with joy. He constantly craved Chris, craved the happiness he experienced only in his lover’s embrace.
“Please don’t let me go,” Marty said.
“I won’t.”
“I can’t be without you in my life.” It surprised Marty how much he meant the words. He’d tolerated his time at the base only because he’d had Chris to ease his mind and pain with their frequent phone calls. He hadn’t even minded that they rarely saw each other in person. It had been enough to know he wasn’t alone. “Don’t leave me again.”
“I won’t,” Chris said, his voice a ragged whisper. “I’m sorry, Marty. I’m sorry for everything. I was so fucking stupid.”
“Yes,” Marty said, placing his palm on Chris’s cheek. “You really were.” He patted Chris’s face. “Enough talking.”
Chris smiled, his hazel green eyes sparking with eagerness. “Agreed.” He grabbed the lube from where Marty had put it on the comforter. “Turn over for me.”
Marty rotated until his chest was against the bed. He felt Chris’s lips press between his shoulder blades, and then the gentle pressure of Chris’s wet tongue trailing down his spine until it wiggled between the crack of his buttocks.
Marty squirmed. He fisted the sheets as Chris urged him to rise up on his knees, his ass on display for his lover.
“God, you’re amazing.” Chris splayed his palms on either of Marty’s butt cheeks and spread him. He placed a kiss on the tight ring of muscle, and Marty pushed back. Chris rubbed his ass, massaging each globe. “I love how honest you are about what you want.”
Marty flushed with pleasure at Chris words. He knew what Chris meant. He didn’t hold back. When he was with Chris, he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to ask for or receive what he wanted, whether verbally or with action. And because of this, he’d experienced sex in a way that brought him to levels of ecstasy he’d never imagined possible.
“I trust you,” Marty said. Before he could add more, Chris pushed inside him with his tongue. Marty moaned, his eyes rolling back. He grasped his dick, stroking it from root to tip as Chris gently worked in and out of him. Fuck, it wouldn’t take much for him to come. He let go of his dick, wanting so badly to wait, to come as Chris exploded inside him.
“Now,” Marty panted. “Now.”
Chris positioned his hips so that the swollen head of his slick cock rubbed against Marty’s opening. He pushed his way inside, invading, stretching slowly, inch by languid inch, until Marty thought he couldn’t take anymore. It b
urned, as always, but as always, it felt like a miracle having Chris joined with him. Chris waited for Marty to adjust then pushed forward again as Marty moaned against the bedspread.
“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Chris leaned forward over Marty’s back and kissed his shoulder. “Such a hot grip on my dick.”
The pressure building inside him made his eyes leak. His breath came in short, sharp pants as Chris began to thrust.
“Oh, God,” Marty gasped. “God.” It felt as if a vacuum was sucking the air from his lungs and the blood from his brain. His skin was tight with heat as every stroke stoked the blazing passion he’d found with Chris. “Yes,” he said. “Jesus, fuck.”
“You’re so fucking hot…so tight. So…fucking good,” Chris said before his words turned to meaningless noises.
Marty wanted to see Chris’s face, to watch him as he came, be watched as he took Chris inside him to a place no one else could ever, would ever, touch. He reached back, his hand wrapping around Chris ass, holding him close against him. “I want to see you. I want to…”
Chris pulled out and flipped Marty onto his back. He climbed between his legs, lifting his right thigh to raise Marty’s ass, and as he stared deeply into Marty’s gaze, his eyes hard with determination, his mouth soft with need, Chris guided his cock back inside.
Marty wrapped his legs around Chris’s waist, the ache in his left leg secondary to the pleasure. “Chris,” he said. “I need you. I don’t want to, but I need you so much.”
Chris kissed him, his tongue thrusting inside Marty’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around Marty, holding him close as he thrust over and over.
Marty burned with a fevered lust as Chris thoroughly possessed him. Commanded him. Conquered him. “I’m going to…”
Chris arched his back. He grasped Marty’s rigid cock, so hard, so close to release, and stroked. “Fucking come,” Chris rasped. “I want to feel you come.” He rocked his hips back and thrust deep, holding himself still as he fisted Marty’s hard length.
“Oh, God,” Marty whispered as the blood rushed to his groin. Chris inside him, stroking him, their flesh pressed tight, all created the perfect storm. He cried out when the orgasm tore through him, his cock jerking as his semen pulsed between them.
“Yes,” Chris said. He licked his lips, his eyes fluttering, as his hips jerked against Marty’s ass. “Ah!” Marty watched as Chris’s mouth dropped open. His eyes squeezed tight, the veins in his neck bulged, and his face reddened while he climaxed.
It was goddamn magnificent.
Chris reached down between his legs and held the base of the condom as he withdrew. “Fuck, yes.” He collapsed on the bed next to Marty, stripped off the used rubber and tossed it in a trash bin near the bed. “That was—”
“I meant it, Chris.” Marty rolled to his side. “I don’t want to lose you.” He shook his head. “No more breaks.”
“None,” Chris agreed. He pressed his lips gently to Marty’s. “No more breaks.” Chris wiggled himself closer until their chests were touching. He caressed Marty’s face. “I’m sorry. I got scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing you.”
“So you got rid of me.”
Chris smiled and shook his head. “Before you could get rid of me.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I think we’ve established that already.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere, Chris.”
“I have trust issues if you haven’t noticed.”
“I noticed.” Marty looped his leg over Chris’s.
“You’re smearing your spunk all over us.”
Marty laughed. He rubbed his hand across his stomach and smeared the sticky sperm across Chris’s manscaped chest. “There I’ve marked you with my pecker tracks.”
“Is that a thing?” Chris chuckled.
“I’m staking my claim if you’ll have me.”
Chris’s gaze narrowed. He pursed his lips then said, “I’m still scared.”
“If you let me in, I’ll stay,” Marty said. “I want this. I want us. I’m tired of living like my life is over. I’m happy with you, Chris. And I’m not going to feel guilty about moving on with my future. Not anymore.” He shook his head. Letting go of his guilt over Mike would be difficult, but losing Chris for good would be harder. But he couldn’t force the man. “The decision is yours.”
“You said you trust me.”
“I do.” Marty swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t know why, but I think that’s the way these kinds of bonds happen.” He’d trusted Mike Wares within a few minutes after they met. He knew the man would have his back in battle and in peace. Mike had saved him, proving to Marty his instincts had been right. He felt that way about Chris. It wasn’t the same as with Mike, for obvious reasons. He’d never wanted to have sex with his friend. Still, he trusted Chris to care for him body and heart.
Chris sighed, his breath coming out in a stutter of emotion. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone.” He ran his fingers through Marty’s hair. “But you…you I trust. I really mean it.”
“So, no more breaks.”
“No more.”
“Thank God.” He pulled Chris into an embrace as the heaviness of sleep wore on him. It was close to four in the morning, and Marty was physically and emotionally drained. He smiled. “I want a lot more nights like this.”
“Like what?”
“Happy.” He kissed Chris’s forehead. “Exhausted.” He kneaded his back. “You in my arms.”
Chris rubbed his face against Marty’s shoulder and kissed his neck. “Me too.”
“Hey. I have two weeks off in November for Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, and I promised my parents I’d come home for the holiday.”
“Oh.” Marty could hear the disappointment in Chris’s voice.
“I’m asking if you want to come with me.”
“Then ask.”
Marty pulled his chin back to look at Chris’s face. Chris was smiling.
“Fine.” Marty grinned. “Will you come home with me for Thanksgiving?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether my boss will give me the time off or not.”
A tiny mew caught Marty’s attention. “So. A cat, huh?”
Chris reached over the side of the bed and lifted the small, purring bundle of fur. “Killer meet Marty.”
He rubbed her chest and she took a playful swipe at him. “Killer.” He looked at the tiny prick of blood welling on his fingertip. “It’s appropriate.”
Chapter 8
Late November
You’re Perfect
“Your parents hate me,” Chris said.
“They really don’t.” Marty squeezed his hand for extra assurance. “They aren’t sure how to act with me having a boyfriend. It’s not you. It’s me.”
“I like it when you call me your boyfriend.”
“I like it too.” He leaned toward Chris to kiss him, but Chris shook his head.
“Not with your mom in the next room.” He thought about his cat. He’d never been away from her before. “Do you think Killer is doing okay with Tucker and Todd?”
“I think they’ll take good care of her. You saw the way they were fussing over her.”
“I hope so.” He couldn't help but worry. He wondered if this was how parents felt the first time they were away from their kids. Well, not his parents, but normal ones.
Marty patted his leg. “We’ll call them in a bit and check on her.”
“Yes, good idea.”
They sat together in the family room near a roaring fireplace. The Lincoln farm was even more picturesque than Marty had described. The hills literally rolled, and the tall maple and thick oak trees, while they had lost most of their leaves, somehow retained their majestic grace. There were cows in the pasture, a barn filled with hay, and chickens wandering around the front yard. He had to pinch himself several times to make
sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“They are trying,” Marty said. “My parents, that is. They just need to get used to the idea of me and you together.”
Chris heard Martha Lincoln laugh in the other room. Then he heard the rich baritone of Harvey Grace’s voice. “She doesn’t have a problem with Doctor Feelgood.”
They’d driven down to the Lincoln homestead the night before. Chris had slept on the couch while Marty slept on a fold out bed in same room. Chris, feeling like the odd man out, had made sure that Marty didn’t try to sneak onto the couch with him. No way was he going to give Martha or Paul Lincoln a reason to hate him even more.
Marty chuckled. “I like you, Chris. That’s the only opinion around here that really counts.”
“Don’t let mom hear you say that.” Jay walked into the living room.
“He didn’t mean it.”
“The hell I didn’t,” Marty said.
Jay smiled. “Mom wants Chris to come help her and Harvey with some of the food prep for the Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I’ll go.” Marty tried to stand, but Chris stopped him.
“Nope. She asked for me.”
Marty raised a worried brow.
“I’ll be fine,” Chris said. Spending the holiday with Marty and his family was a real test for their relationship, one that Chris didn’t plan to fail. “Honest.”
Jay flopped down on the couch beside Marty and patted his leg. He snickered. “He’ll be fine,” he repeated.
Before Marty could protest, Chris made a beeline to the kitchen. Whatever Mrs. Lincoln planned to throw at him, Chris would take it. He’d gone all-in with Marty, and it meant he would make a real effort to connect with Marty’s family as well.
“It’s about time,” Martha said when Chris walked in. Her eyes were a light gray, so different from her boys’. They’d gotten their eye color from their dad, but Martha had wide cheekbones like Marty. She’d pulled her graying, brown hair into a ponytail and wore an apron that said, Rule #1 Don’t piss off the cook.
She handed Chris an avocado green apron. It read, Everything’s better with pie. Next, she pushed a bowl of onions at him. “I’d like you to slice half of these and diced the other half.” She’d already laid out a knife and cutting board. Harvey was at the far side of the center island peeling potatoes.
The Screwdriver - Dirty Martini 2 Page 6
