On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel]

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On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel] Page 10

by Sean Michael


  Groaning, Rock turned and nipped the pad of his thumb. A moment later more heat filled him, those blue eyes glazing over.

  "Y'all.” Fuck, he loved. So much.

  Their cocks slid out of him, his marines lying to either side of him, bracketing him and holding him close between them. Dick tilted his face for a kiss, and then Rock did the same.

  He held Rock's eyes, blinking nice and slow. Good. So good.

  Rock grunted, smiled. “You look like we wore you out."

  "Mmhmm. ‘s good.” All good. All right.

  "I could nap,” muttered Dick, patting his hip, Rock's.

  "Uh-huh.” For, like, days.

  Dick snuggled in close and Rock settled, throwing a leg over both him and his Pretty.

  He was comfortable, happy. Settled. Happy vacation to them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They spilled out of the helicopter, Dick whooping, pumped from their trip over the Grand Canyon. “Woo! That was fanfuckingtastic!"

  Rock laughed. “Yeah, it wasn't bad."

  Dick popped him in the arm and grinned at Rig. “What did you think?"

  "It was weird, being in a bird again."

  "You ever miss it?” They didn't talk about it much. Like as in ever—how Rig gave it up. Flying. Jumping out of birds. All of it. All just taken away one night. Christ.

  "Yeah. Yeah, sometimes. I miss...” Rig shrugged, waved one hand. “Come on, y'all. I'm dying of thirst."

  "Yeah, I could kill for a beer. Pilot said there was a good place—a real place a few blocks over from the strip."

  Dick grinned. Rock had been comparing notes with the pilot for most of the trip and God knew he didn't want to bring them down.

  "Cool.” The rental car was waiting, Rig whistling idly, sunglasses on under his gimme cap. He looked good. Too skinny, but relaxed and happy. And so did Rock. Well, relaxed and happy—there was nothing skinny about Rock.

  Looking at them made his prick perk up, but Dick ignored it. “I'll drive,” he offered, holding his hands out for the keys. Rock snorted and grinned at him, not handing them over. Rig stretched, tight little cowboy butt shifting, side to side, all backlit by the sun.

  Biting back a groan, he looked his fill, shoving his hands in his pockets to disguise the way the front of his jeans bulged. “Never mind, I'll just sit in the back and admire the scenery."

  "What're y'all muttering about? Come on.” Impatient cowboy.

  "I'm sorry, did you not hear me? You're hot.” He grinned and gave one of Rig's ass cheeks a nice hard squeeze.

  "Mmm.” Rig leaned a half a second, then moved away, shaking it.

  "You're just encouraging him,” murmured Rock. “Keep it up."

  Laughing, Dick followed that ass, Rock hitting the button to unlock the car. Rig slid in, legs stretching out, boot heels clicking. Dick climbed into the back as Rock slid into the driver's seat. He popped his head over the front seats, grinning, still bouncing from the helicopter ride, feeling a bit horny.

  Rig leaned, kissed his cheek. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day, Dick?"

  "I don't know—I'm pretty easy.” In more ways than one.

  "When aren't you?” asked Rock, starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

  "I'm thinking I want to go nap for a bit, maybe.” Rig patted Rock's thigh.

  Dick frowned. Rig had been napping an awful lot lately.

  "Yeah? You don't want to go swimming or anything? Or maybe they've got a pool table at this bar we're going to."

  "Oh, I can nap after pool and beer.” He got a grin, a nod. “I'm a fan of a good game of pool."

  Rock nodded, checking out the name of the street sign ahead of them. “I can get behind that."

  "Cool. We haven't played pool in forever."

  "It hasn't been that long, has it?” Rig asked.

  "Pretty much."

  "Kid's right. it has been forever. Hell we hadn't had a night out before we came on vacation in a month of Sunday's."

  "Listen to you. You damn near sound like home.” Rig's words were teasing, but the hand that slid up Rock's thigh stopped the grumble.

  Rock looked over at Rig. “I am home."

  Dick grinned, nodding. Oh, yeah. Yeah, they were home. The three of them.

  "Yeah. Yeah, Blue. Y'all are home.” Rig leaned, lips just brushing Rock's jaw.

  Oh, didn't that make Rock puff up and look happy? God, the two of them made him happy. He slid his hands over their shoulders, squeezing. Damn, Rig was tense. Like rock-hard tense. He squeezed Rock's shoulder one more time and then shifted a bit and rubbed both Rig's shoulders, working the tight muscles.

  "Oh...” Rig's head fell forward, lips parted. “Don't stop."

  "I won't. You okay?"

  They were on vacation; Rig should have been relaxed as hell.

  "Yeah. I'm fine.” The muscles started shaking a little, just slowly relaxing.

  He leaned in so just Rig would hear him. “You sure? You're awfully tense."

  "Yeah?” He got a kiss, a grin. “I'm fine, honey."

  "Yeah, well you can prove it later,” he whispered, prick perking up again just at the thought.

  "Mmm. To be so young again."

  Dick snorted. “You're not old."

  "I feel old, some."

  "Oh, me and Rock aren't doing our job, then.” He kissed Rig's neck, that place he knew would send shivers through Rig's body.

  Rig groaned, head falling forward. “We're fixin’ to be at a bar, Pretty."

  "You think they have a bathroom?” he whispered against Rig's skin.

  "We're not fucking in the bar...” Uh-huh. Of course they weren't.

  "Hey, Rock, is a blowjob fucking?"

  Rock glanced away from the road, one eyebrow going up. “A blowjob's a blowjob."

  Dick grinned. “There you go. We won't be fucking in the bar."

  God, Rig's laugh was something else. “You know bathrooms are nasty right?"

  "I'll put up with nasty for you."

  Rock snorted and he whapped the big guy's arm. Rock whapped back and Rig snorted, all of them suddenly laughing and playing, the car zooming down the road. The pilot had been right, the bar was more substance than neon flash, a row of pool tables were at the back.

  "I can get us a pitcher while you guys set up a table."

  Rig dug some ones out of his pockets—Man, those tight jeans just weren't. Skinny asshole. Dick groaned, and met Rock's eyes. He wasn't the only one wanting. Didn't make it much better, but at least he wasn't alone. He went and ordered their beer, leaning against the bar, eyes on his lovers.

  Rig was breaking, face shadowed by that cowboy hat. Rock was chuckling, watching Rig, shaking his head.

  He nodded his thanks as the pitcher and glasses were served up and he grabbed them, heading for the sexiest pair in the joint. Rock was shooting, Rig propped against the wall, grey eyes warm, watching their marine.

  "Who's winning?” He checked out Rock's ass as he asked.

  "Rock, of course. Shit, I haven't won a game of pool in years.” Rig sounded more resigned than complaining.

  "That's because you're not being distracting enough."

  "Oh, now. Don't you go blaming this on me..."

  "No?” He chuckled, pouring the beer into their glasses. “Well it's not my fault."

  "Are you sure? You're damned distracting..."

  "Me?” He laughed. When there was Rock to look at? “Only if I pull out the big guns.” He rubbed his nipple ring through his t-shirt, eyes on Rig's, just able to see where it was through the t-shirt.

  Oh, fuck yeah. Rig's eyes went hot, hungry.

  Yeah.

  Big guns.

  He licked his lips, his own body going tight at that look.

  "Hey. We playing pool, or what?” Rock asked.

  He voted for what, himself.

  "Huh?” Rig blinked, then shook his head. “Sorry, Blue. I got distracted."

  Rock chuckled. “The kid cheating again?"


  Dick's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Me? I do not cheat or distract!"

  "Excuse me, Mr. Nipples?” Mr. Nipples? Wasn't that a chimp?

  "Oh, I see what's happening now.” Rock came over and tweaked his nipple through his t-shirt, making him gasp. “Behave. No cheating."

  "Like you aren't a walking distraction."

  Rock didn't take offence at all, just puffed up proudly. Hell, the man had a lot to be proud of. Rig chuckled, went to take a shot, sinking three balls.

  Rock frowned. “I thought Dick had distracted you?"

  "He had. I only got three.” Oh, look at that shit-eating grin.

  "And you guys accused me of cheating."

  "I didn't cheat.” Rig looked tickled. “I got lucky."

  "Getting lucky.” Rock grinned. “I'll show you lucky when we get back to the hotel."

  Oh yeah. Now that was lucky.

  "Promises, promises.” Rig joked and Rock growled, swatting that tight little ass affectionately.

  "Now Rock's trying to distract you so you don't sink anymore."

  "Would he do that?” Rig wiggled, leaned over to take his shot.

  He and Rock spoke at the same time. “Yes."

  They were both watching that ass, too, like a pair of dogs panting over a bone. Rig slowed, shifting and sliding, teasing them both.

  "Five dollars says he doesn't sink this shot,” murmured Rock.

  "You're on."

  "You're going to lose. He's too busy putting on a show."

  "We'll see."

  Rig's lips twisted, and then those long, long legs spread. The twelve went in, pretty as you please. Dick crowed and held out his hand, Rock grumbling as he put the fiver in it. “He was distracting us, not himself."

  "I live in this body. I have y'all to look at. Why would I be distracted by it?"

  "Because you were busy trying to distract us with it and I figured that would be ... oh hell.” Rock rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Never mind. I just wanted to give the kid five bucks."

  Dick laughed and then bit his lip when Rock shot him a look.

  Rig chuckled, leaned on the pool table, just smiling at Rock. “You are a fine, fine man, Marine."

  Rock puffed up as he always did. The big guy knew he was good-looking, but there was something about the way those grey eyes looked at you that made you know right down to your toes.

  "I'd flex for ya, Rig, but I wouldn't want to be accused of cheating when I win."

  "Oh, go ahead, flex for me. I've already said you're a better pool player and that'll ease the sting of losing."

  Rock didn't need anymore encouragement than that, the muscles of his arms and chest going hard, showing up easily beneath the tight, dark green t-shirt he wore.

  Dick's prick, already interested thanks to Rig's butt-wiggling, got even more interested and he groaned. “You know if we're not going to get blowjobs in the bathroom, you guys are being really mean.” Nothing turned him on like these two. Nothing at all.

  Rig was just stock-still, fascinated. “Jesus fuck. I. Damn. Dick, you too."

  Those jeans were looking tighter. He wasn't as broad as Rock, or as built, but he wasn't bad and he'd learned everything he knew about flexing for Rig from Rock. Dick stood next to Rock and showed off his guns, and then his abs, eyes sweeping the bar to make sure it was still fairly empty before he tugged up the hem of his t-shirt and really let Rig see his six-pack.

  Rig actually whimpered, hand sliding down to barely brush that hard cock. “Fuck me."

  "That's the plan,” growled Rock, eyes riveted on Rig's hand.

  Man, they should have gone back to the hotel—this wasn't their local club where they knew they were safe going into the bathroom for a little action.

  "They say anticipation makes it better,” he pointed out. “And we wouldn't want to waste our beer.” He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince—them or himself.

  "Uh-huh. Is it still my shot?” Rig wasn't watching anything but them.

  "Yep.” Rock kept flexing, happily giving Rig a show and there he was, showing off right next to Rock.

  The next shot went so wide that it didn't even come close. Rock chuckled and grabbed his cue, took a handful of Rig's ass as he walked by as well.

  "Pour me a beer, Pretty.” Rig still looked dazed, horny. Please.

  He did as he was told, fingers sliding on Rig's as he handed the glass over.

  "Thank you.” He could smell Rig, smell that Rig needed them. It made him moan and he bit the sound back. Fuck.

  Rock managed to sink all his balls, putting the eight ball in the corner pocket. “You wanna break, Dick?"

  "Uh. Sure?"

  Rock headed over to Rig, standing too close, talking to their redneck, making Rig groan, blush dark. Oh man. Talk about distracting. He took his shot, wincing as the ball went wide, missing totally.

  "Try again, Dick.” Rig's voice was sandpaper rough, whatever Rock was saying was ratcheting their cowboy into a frenzy.

  "Like my focus is getting any better.” He did try again though, almost crowing as he managed to sink one of the stripes. He missed the next one, though. “Your go, Rock."

  Rock and Rig both groaned, the air between them thick enough to slice.

  He traded places with Rock, smiling at Rig as he grabbed his beer and downed it, feeling hot and horny.

  He opened his mouth to say something to Rig and Rig hushed him with one finger. “Not a word, Pretty. I know how good you are at that. I'll cream my jeans."

  "But—"

  "Shh. I'm all riled up."

  "I want to go back to the hotel. Rock?"

  "I hear you.” With military precision and efficiency, Rock proceeded to sink every last solid one after the other before putting the eight ball in the middle pocket. “Fast enough for you?"

  "Uh-huh.” Rig just vibrated, nodded. “Excellent game. Time to go."

  "Yeah. Congrats, Rock. I agree, let's go.” He led the way, Rock and Rig right behind him. Maybe him and Rig could get off in the back of the car.

  "Who's got the keys?” Rig was a little bowlegged.

  "Rock still does. Come sit in the back with me."

  Rock grunted, but opened the door for them. “It'll take me five minutes to get us to the hotel. Be quick."

  "We're going to be patient.” Rig slid in, legs sprawled.

  He climbed in after Rig. “We are?"

  "Uh ... Uh-huh.” There was a tiny spot on Rig's jeans.

  Dick grinned as Rock climbed in and started the car.

  "Okay. I can wait. I can wait to pull down your zipper and tug out your prick. Lick those drops right from the tip..."

  "Dick...” Rig's fingers landed on his lips. He let his tongue run across Rig's fingers. He wanted so badly.

  "Four minutes,” Rock called from the front seat, looking at them in the rear view mirror.

  Rig leaned in, tongue sliding in between those fingers, touching his lips. Gasping, he opened wide, tugging one of Rig's fingers in, sucking on it.

  "Pretty!” Rig's head slammed back, hips rocking furiously, humping the air. He sucked Rig's finger like it was the man's cock, letting it slide in and out of his mouth, teeth grazing the pad, tongue working the tip. He could feel Rock's gaze on them, heavy even through the mirror.

  "Dick. Dick, man. You're gonna make me ... I'm not walking through the hotel all nasty..."

  "We'll go in the back door,” growled Rock. “Fuck, Rig—I can smell you."

  He sucked harder, eyes on Rig.

  Rig scrambled, free hand jerking his belt open, his fly open and down. That heavy cock pushed right out, red and dark and throbbing. Dick got his own seatbelt undone in record time, bending to suck that hard cock right in.

  "Yes!” Rig's hips slammed up, cock filling his lips, spunk splashing on his tongue. He swallowed and swallowed, taking it all in, making sure not to lose a drop. When the pulses had stopped, he licked and lapped at the velvety flesh.

  "Pretty...” Rig was sti
ll hard, moaning softly, fingers in his hair.

  "One minute."

  With great reluctance, he pulled of Rig's prick and tucked it back into the tight jeans. “Hold that thought."

  "Uh. Uh-huh. Damn, pretty.” Rig looked debauched. Utterly debauched.

  He grinned, feeling like seven kinds of stud. Feeling even better than he had after getting off that helicopter. Rig's hand cupped his jaw, stroked him.

  He nuzzled into the touch and could almost hear Rock roll his eyes. “Come on you two lovebirds. Upstairs where we can do it properly."

  "Jealous old man.” Rig leaned over the car seat, whispering in Rock's ear, tongue flicking out.

  Rock groaned, hand coming up to slide over Rig's head, cupping it. He couldn't hear what Rig was saying, but he could see Rock, see the flush crawling up the big guy's head.

  He slid his hand up along Rig's spine, just touching, admiring. Then Rig took Rock's earlobe in his teeth, tugging once, sweet and slow. Jesus.

  His moan echoed Rock's.

  "Sexy fucker,” muttered Rock.

  "Yours."

  "Yep."

  Dick grinned. That was Rock—Mr. Romance.

  He wouldn't change the man for anything.

  Rig neither.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The taxi pulled up in front of their place and Rock groaned as he got out, the salt water in the air smelling good, like home.

  He let Rig pay for the taxi and hauled their bags out of the trunk, Dick helping him.

  "Good to be home,” he muttered as they climbed the stairs, Rig letting them in. It was weird, coming home and not having the dogs pawing and sniffing all over them. They'd get them out of the kennel in the morning, for now, they were just home and that was enough. It was a little stuffy inside, and Dick went around opening up windows.

  He grabbed Rig before the man could disappear and try to start washing their laundry or something like notice all the work he'd had done while they were gone. “You have a good vacation?"

  "I did. I'm glad to be home. Vegas is something else."

  "I keep getting the feeling you would have been happier going somewhere else.” He rubbed his lips against Rig's.

  "No. No, we had a ball.” Rig smiled for him, kissed him, nice and slow.

  "We had six, I believe.” He grinned against Rig's lips, reached down for that ass. That got him a laugh, just like he'd hoped it would. Excellent.

 

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