Hurricane

by BA Tortuga

  “How’s that boat holding up?” They’d gotten him a couple boats to rent out, the first one an old used clunker that he’d fixed up himself.

  “Shit, some days I just want to hit it with a hammer. Hard. Still, I got the transom fixed and that fucking carburetor working. You need to turn the steaks?”

  “Probably need to take them off and let them rest.” Letting them rest these days meant putting them on a Tupperware cake thing with a lid. Khan was a remarkable steak thief. Galen turned and dropped a kiss on his mouth before going to futz with the grill.

  Man, look at that ass.

  Really.

  He so approved.

  Turning to look over one shoulder, Len grinned at him. Wiggled a little. “You’re staring.”

  “I got something to stare at.”

  “I like it. Don’t stop.” Oh, someone was getting all growly in the good way. The steaks got set aside, safe from the dogs, and Len came back, the front of those cutoffs showing that someone was interested too.

  “I won’t. You’re just… you’re it for me, man.”

  “Ditto, darlin’.” One of Len’s hands slid behind his head, cradling it and holding him in place while that hot mouth closed over his.

  He opened up, pushing up into the kiss. Hell, yeah. That was what he needed.

  Galen kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and like they had all the time in the world. It made him moan, made him wiggle. His hands wrapped around Galen’s arms, fingers tracing that ink. His.

  A low moan sounded, Galen crowding him. “Shane…. Good.”

  “Uh-huh. Want.” He did too. He wanted that cock, that mouth.

  “Yeah. The steaks are resting….” Galen dropped beside the chair, leaning down and nuzzling at him.

  He moaned, reaching to get himself a handful of ass. “Love your mouth, Len.”

  “Well, what do you want, darlin’? My mouth or my ass? I could suck you. Or you could do me.” Those dark eyes twinkled for him, Galen making him choose between heaven and paradise.

  “I’m supposed to choose?” Jesus.

  “One now, one after supper.” Laughing, Galen kissed him again, lips pressing against his, tongue teasing him. He moaned, tongue pushing back against Galen’s.

  They passed control back and forth, Galen’s big hands closing on his shoulders, pulling him right up against that fuzzy bare chest. His cock throbbed against his zipper, aching to get out, to push free. Goddamn, his Galen was a hot bastard.

  “Can smell you, honey.” One hand slid down to close over his cock, pressing through the denim of his shorts. “Want you.”

  “Yours.” He bucked up, rubbed against that touch. “Come on.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Len opened his zipper and pulled him out, got that hand wrapped around him, pulling gently.

  “More.” He might have to kill Galen or die when the fucking chair went.

  “More what?” Fucking tease. Len finally got down to business, though, mouth dropping down over the head of his cock.

  “Jesus!” His eyes rolled back like dice, hips pumping in short, tiny bursts. A low, rough noise was his reward, Len sucking at him, lips and tongue working hard along his length. Shane let himself babble—tell Galen all about how good it was, how fucking happy he was.

  Len’s hands were everywhere, stroking his thighs, reaching down to cup his balls. That mouth was relentless, moving up and down, up and down.

  “Gonna. Gonna. Galen!” He arched as good as he could, pumping and jerking into Galen’s mouth.

  Swallowing him right down, Len took it all, moaning for him. Around him.

  His ass landed hard on the chair, bouncing a little. “Damn. Good. Len.”

  Licking his lips, Len knelt up, arms braced on the chair. “Very good. Taste fine, darlin’.”

  “You needing something?” He leaned, licked Len’s lips too.

  “Always. Always needing you. Come here.” Yanking him right off the chair, Len pulled him down across thighs like tree trunks, getting him so he could rub away. He took one hard kiss after another, giving Galen all he had. Clamping both hands down on his ass, Galen pulled him closer, cock rubbing up under his balls, slipping and sliding. Wet-tipped. Hot. Damn.

  “Want in, Len?” Galen’s cock slid between his cheeks, and he squeezed, giving the man some friction.

  “God, yes. I want to. So bad.” Two fingers pushed against his lips, sliding, opening him. “Get me wet.”

  Shane sucked, licking and pulling, wetting those fingers. His cock was making a comeback, the heat against him enough to drive him crazy. Pulling free, Galen reached around and slipped two of those fingers right into him. That just opened him right up, the pressure of it making him bear down and let Len in.

  “Fuck.” He smiled, the heat and stretch just everything he wanted.

  “Fixing to, darlin’. I promise.” Panting, Galen rubbed against his balls, fingers moving inside him hard and deep. Yeah, he could feel how ready Galen was.

  They moved together, foreheads pressed together, and Shane couldn’t decide if he needed that thick cock or the constant push and press of those fingers. The decision was taken out of his hands, Galen’s fingers sliding free, the head of that hard cock pushing right up. Right into him.

  His spine went stiff, his hips bucking as he tried to get that pressure just where he needed it.

  “Shane. Jesus. Hold still a minute….” Galen held him, hands on his hips, digging in. Then Len moved, hips swiveling, and boom, he was right where he needed to be.

  Shane’s eyes snapped open, his whole fucking body on fire. “There.”

  “Right there?” Muscles bunching, Galen moved, pushing up to hit that spot again and again.

  “Right. Fucking. There.” His cock throbbed, ready to go again.

  “God, darlin’. You’re so fucking pretty like this. So hot. I just can’t get enough of you.” Sweat beaded on Galen’s skin, and that cock pegged him again and again, right where he needed it, and damn….

  “Yours. Fuck.” He fucking flew, every inch of his body shuddering, shaking.

  “Mine. Oh God.” Galen lost the rhythm, slamming into him, head falling back to show that tanned throat. Tendons stood out, muscles bunched, and Galen had to be the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He watched, jacking himself in time, this orgasm sweet as fuck. Wheezing, Galen held on to him, shaking with the aftershocks, looking stunned. “Damn, darlin’.”

  “Uh-huh.” Yes. Damn.

  “Love you, darlin’. The steaks should be ready.” Galen winked before leaning to kiss the corner of his mouth.

  “If Khan didn’t steal them, yeah.” He reached up, stroked the lines beside Galen’s eyes.

  “I bet she didn’t.” Galen glanced over at the grill and started laughing. The Tupperware was gone, the steaks were on the ground, and the pups were feasting.

  “Oh, you fuckheads!” He hooted, shaking his head.

  “Looks like pizza, huh?”

  “We could get dressed up and go out, if you want.”

  “You want to? We haven’t done that in a bit.” Relaxed, easy in his skin, Galen was still chuckling at the dogs.

  “We could even go dancing. I’ll wear my new jeans.”

  “Hell, yes. I like your new jeans.” One hand patted his ass, showing how much Galen liked the parts that went into the jeans.

  “Cool. Let’s go hop in the shower, and then we’ll go play.”

  “You got it.” They moved, Galen lifting him right up, hauling him into the house. The pups could have the steaks.

  He had what he needed, balls to bones.

  Bartender Rescue

  Author’s Note

  HEY, Y’ALL! Galen and Shane had long been put to rest when, in 2015, I was challenged to write a bar-based story titled Bartender Rescue. I have to admit, I never even considered another pair to write about. Shane was happy to be the emotional one, and Galen loved the whole idea of being a hero.

  Bartender Rescue (in which Shane isn’t a bartender anymore, s
omehow) is set approximately eight years after the end of Hurricane. The guys surprised me with this look at their lives and how things had changed. I’m not sure the boys will have another story in them, but you never know. They always show up when they’re not expected.

  Much love, y’all.

  BA

  “I SWEAR to God, y’all. If you don’t watch your pours, I’m going to start ripping faces off. I can’t afford to run specials if you’re pouring triples on every drink.”

  Christ on a sparkly crutch, Shane had a headache. He’d spent the last four days studying the books on his latest project, trying to figure out why the busiest club of five bars was the one losing fucking money.

  “But boss….”

  He shook his head at Greg, his so-called manager. “Don’t. I don’t care. Fix it, y’all. Now. Or you’re all fired.”

  “I’d like to see him do it perfect every time,” one of the little barbacks was muttering, and Shane saw red, right about the time Greg winced.

  “Give me a bottle of Bacardi,” he snapped, one hand held out. “And four glasses.”

  He poured the four shots—boom, boom, boom, boom—without even bothering to look. Each one of them perfect, right on, and he knew it. “Any questions?”

  “Yes.” The newest bartender, a shrewd little redhead with bright green eyes, raised a hand. “Do you do it by count or with the bubble or what?”

  “I used to count. Now I know it by heart. It’s practice. Y’all have to get, if you’re getting them fucked-up with two drinks, that’s ten bucks to the till, what? Two bucks to you? Three if you’re lucky? With four or five drinks? That’s twenty-five bucks to the till and more than five in the tip jar.”

  “Can you show me one more time?” She was taking the initiative, at least. So he bit back his frustration and showed her.

  Four pours. Four shots. Four perfect glasses.

  Christ, his head hurt. Bad. And he still had to put out fires at Mickey’s, run deposit at the Spotted Kitten, and approve proofs for the new menus at Bell.

  The bar business was booming, even if other things were sliding, like the old bait shop. Galen could run that with one hand tied behind his back and still do all the weird financial shit the man was into. Hell, they’d had it for more than ten years.

  He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up like this—how he had ended up owning five clubs. He didn’t even drink hardly anymore.

  Hell, right now he was tired enough that he didn’t want anything but caffeine and energy drinks by the case.

  “Cool, boss. Thanks.” What the heck was her name? Allie? She winked. Winked at him. Lord.

  “I’ve got to go. Greg. Work on this, man.”

  “I will. I swear.” Greg could do earnest. Shane just hoped there was follow-through.

  He grabbed his laptop bag and headed out. Time for the next stop on his rounds….

  Someone stood right in front of his new, sparkly blue Jeep. Leaning on the hood in fact.

  He stopped, took a second to admire. Damn. Damn, his Len was fine as frog’s hair. Those long legs went on and on, the ripped jeans and tight polo shirt just right. Galen’s shoulders still looked like they might block the light.

  “Galen. Everything okay?”

  Raising one hand, Galen crooked a finger at him. “C’mere, darlin’. I got this terrible problem.”

  He came over, like his soul was on a string. Nothing on earth was good as this. Galen straightened up when he got close, reached out with one long arm, and snagged his shirt. Quick as a wink, Galen had Shane backed up against the Jeep, pressing against him, all up and down.

  “Remember this, darlin’?”

  Oh sweet Jesus and all the choirs of angels. “Len.”

  He remembered. He so totally remembered. Their very first time, hot as fire and twice as dangerous, right out in the parking lot. Hard and fast and enough to blow his mind.

  Galen leaned down, mouth an inch from his. “Wanna do it again?”

  “Fuck yes.” Over and over. “Please, Len.”

  “Boss? Boss, oh, I caught you. I need this signed, and Kitty from Mickey’s called and needs you to pick up pineapple and celery on the way to her.”

  Fuck.

  He closed his eyes, his head screaming at him. “What needs signing, Greg?”

  Can’t you see I’m getting laid?

  Galen growled, the sound almost like an alligator warning off a Rottweiler. Too bad Greg didn’t take the hint.

  “Just this thing for the deposit tonight.”

  “Okay. Okay. Fine.” He slid out and signed the paper. Go away now. Damn it.

  “Pineapple and celery for Kitty.”

  He sighed, nodded. “I got it.”

  “Thanks, boss.” Greg left.

  Galen didn’t. “Seriously? You have bar managers.”

  “I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the tension there vicious.

  “Well, you want me to call one of them?” That white smile flashed, making Shane relax a little.

  “Yeah. No. No, this isn’t your job. I’m being a whiny titty baby.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m the one pulling the whiny card.” Galen touched his cheek. “I miss you, darlin’.”

  He leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a second. He needed an upper. Bad. His head was going to… oh. Oh, Len massaging his neck was better than any pill.

  “Jesus, darlin’, you’re like frozen rope. Come home.”

  “Can I do that?”

  “Yes. You call Kitty and tell her to send someone for the fruit who’s not you, and then we turn your phone off.”

  God, that sounded like heaven. No phone. No clubs. Just quiet and Galen.

  Possibly naked Galen.

  In the shower.

  Or using the leather straps.

  Then a nap.

  “You make that call, darlin’. Then we’ll go and get busy.” Galen gave his neck one more rub.

  “Promises, promises.” He knew better. He’d call someone, and there’d be an emergency, and he’d be screwed. Except not.

  Except then Galen took his phone and dialed Kitty, not giving it back when he reached for it. “Kitty? Yeah. Shane has a migraine. He can’t drive, so I’m taking him home. Take a twenty out of petty cash and get your fruit. Uh-huh. Bye.”

  Then Galen turned his phone all the way off and shoved it in a back pocket, staring at him, daring him to say shit.

  At least Galen hadn’t fed it to an alligator…. Shane grinned, the pounding in his head easing a little. He’d done that once, when Galen had been so busy with work.

  “Come on, darlin’. Home. Hot tub.”

  Galen didn’t wait for him to answer. The man just grabbed him and plopped him in Galen’s truck, then shut the door. Bang.

  They were tearing off at twice the speed limit in no time. Galen still took corners on two wheels.

  He watched the sun go down over the water, like the ocean was swallowing it up. Gulp. He kinda wished a storm was coming in, because they would go to the beach and let it wash over them, but the hot tub sounded nice too.

  Galen didn’t talk, but the radio came on, Kenny Chesney singing, and that was okay. Comfortable.

  By the time they got back to their little house out there by the water, he was half-asleep, his head nodding. God, please let him have a day, maybe two. Just a second. Maybe an orgasm.

  “You awake, Shane?” Galen put the truck in Park and turned to face him, sliding one hand across the back of his seat.

  “Mostly. Love when you drive.”

  “Well, I can keep on, figuratively at least.” Len leaned over and kissed him, mouth hot, beard just a little scratchy.

  Oh. Oh yes. Len still wanted him.

  He grabbed the broad shoulders, dragged Len as close as he could. His lover blocked out the last of the sunset, that big body pushing against his.

  His cock was full, pushing at his jeans, reminding him that it had been too long since he’d been touched. Galen was all about the touching
too, pinching at his nipples, pulling the rings there through his shirt.

  Oh, that made him want to wiggle and hump, made him a little stupid.

  He couldn’t catch his breath, and it got worse when Galen yanked him out of the truck and tugged him into the house.

  “Len….” He stumbled along, his prick so hard.

  “Need you now, darlin’. I had this grand seduction planned, but I can’t wait.” Galen dragged him into the bedroom, tugging at his clothes.

  “Oh, thank God.” He bit Galen’s shoulder.

  “Yes.” Those hands… he could write odes to them if he did poetry. Galen lifted him, stripping off his jeans.

  His prick pushed right out, wanting Galen’s attention so bad.

  “God, Shane, I can smell you.” Len grabbed his cock, pulling nice and strong.

  He braced himself, spread his thighs, and pushed into the touch. He humped, wanting nothing more than to come all over his lover’s hand. “Don’t stop, Galen. Please.”

  God knew, something was waiting to stop them, interrupt them. He tried to block everything else out, though. Len deserved his whole attention.

  It got easier to focus when Galen rolled his palm over the head of Shane’s cock, bringing him up on tiptoes. He was leaking, his ass muscles clenching. The denim of Galen’s jeans rubbed him mercilessly.

  “More. Hurry, Len.” He was going to scream with it.

  “Uh-huh. Want skin.” Galen tossed him down on the bed before stripping down, baring that amazing body. The man was still as ripped as any professional athlete.

  Fuck, Len made his mouth water, made his balls ache.

  Then Galen was back with him, rubbing against him, covering him. Their cocks pushed together, making him grunt. He wrapped one leg around Galen’s hard ass, dragging them even closer. God, that man made him crazy. He forgot, sometimes, how good it was.

  “Stop thinking, darlin’.” Galen kissed him, stealing his breath right away.

  He wrapped around Galen as tight as he could, just humping up. No thinking. He used to be good at that. He used to be happier.