On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel]

by Sean Michael

  He got settled, then whispered low. “You're not helping, Pretty."

  In fact, the kid was having way too much fun.

  Dick bent past him to pick up the sponge out of the water. “He hasn't burst a vein yet, has he?"

  "No, not yet, and I don't see a single bruise on you, either.” Poor thing, dealing with scared Rock was even less fun than dealing with pissed off Rock.

  "So I'd say I was helping just fine.” Dick gave him a grin and, after soaping up the sponge, started to wash him.

  "This is really weird, Dick. I'm not broken. I just got a little dehydrated. I'm hydrated. I promise to eat.” He wiggled and shivered, oddly uncomfortable with this, so intimate.

  "Just humor him, Rig."

  Dick crouched down in front of him, took his hand. “You always hear how doctors make the worst patients."

  "I'm not a patient. I've been released.” He squeezed Dick's hand. “Are y'all all better? No more puking?"

  "We're fine, Rig.” Dick leaned up and kissed him. “You took good care of us."

  "'s my job.” He rested his forehead against Dick's.

  Those riverstone eyes gazed at him, Dick's smile soft as he was given another kiss.

  "Are you washing or making out over there?” interrupted Rock.

  "I can't do both?” Dick asked.

  He grinned, licking at Dick's lips. “Which answer's going to get me in the least trouble?"

  "We're washing,” Dick said and gave him another kiss. “Mouth's almost clean."

  He chuckled, relaxing, easing under Dick's hands.

  "Just get him clean, kid—we've got a week to play tonsil hockey."

  "And between us all a week since we last played tonsil hockey. Don't tell me you aren't eager, Rock."

  "Why do you think I want him washed and back in bed?"

  Dick chuckled, sliding the sponge over him quickly. By the time Dick had him cleaned, he was shivering, chilled, tired, more than willing to snuggle back into the covers, into his lovers’ arms. His men both stripped down first and then they were on either side of him, making him feel warm and at home.

  "Mmm ... feels good.” He cuddled happily. “We gonna fuck now?"

  "I don't think you're up to fucking,” growled Rock.

  "No.” It surprised him to say, but it was the truth. He wasn't. He wasn't up to fucking at all. Cuddling, though? That he could do. “But we could rest."

  "Okay.” Rock nodded. “Nap."

  "I'm okay, Blue."

  "We'll talk about it later, Rig. Right now, sleep, or your skinny ass is going back to Mercy."

  He nodded. Sleep now. Fuck later. No Mercy.

  Right.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He lost his supper, trying his best to be quiet about it.

  Shit.

  Shit, that was the sixth time this week.

  He really needed to grab Dave or Peg or Sammy, have them check him out. This was way weirder than some bug and God knew he wasn't pregnant.

  Rig washed his face, brushed his teeth and headed for the shower, hand on his gut. Fuck, he was sore. Tired. Grumpy as hell. Maybe a little on the scared side because damn it, Momma had cancer and...

  Well, he wasn't having any of that shit.

  "Hey.” Dick's head popped around the door. “You're not coming back for dessert?"

  "I need a shower, Pretty. Maybe after."

  The door opened further and Dick came in. “You want some company?"

  "You don't have to. I know you were wanting that cake.” He bent to turn the water on, waiting for the steam.

  Dick snorted, sounding a whole lot like Rock. “Since when is cake better than naked you?” Dick started stripping. “Besides, the cake'll still be there later."

  That made it easy to chuckle, strip off the rest of his clothes and get in the hot water. Dick followed him in, arms wrapping around his middle and tugging him back against the solid body.

  "Hey, you.” God, Dick felt good. Solid. Strong.

  "Mmm ... hey.” Dick kissed the side of his neck. “You seemed preoccupied at supper."

  "Yeah? I'm good.” Queasy and sore, but good. “How's things at the gym?"

  "Not bad. I feel guilty leaving so much of it up to Rock lately, but my classes are really kicking my ass and the place does sort of run itself. He gets stuck with all the paperwork though.” Dick's fingers rubbed over his belly, just touching.

  "I can head over once or twice a week, help him out with it.” God knew he did enough that he was speedy as all get out. “You liking your classes?"

  "Oh, he'd love that.” Dick chuckled and hugged him tight. “Though now I'll feel doubly guilty that you're helping out instead of me being able to do it. And yeah. Except for Statistics. I fucking hate Statistics. Feeling is mutual, too."

  "No guilt. You need a tutor? We can afford one."

  "I don't know. Maybe? I don't know.” Dick chuckled. “I just don't want to disappoint you and Rock."

  "You won't. Get you a tutor, Pretty. I'll get the tab.” Hell, all Dick would need was a little confidence and he'd figure it.

  "Yeah?” He got another squeeze. “Thanks, Rig. It means a lot that you think I can do this."

  "I know you can. You just need a little hand.” He lifted his head, got a kiss. Dick's lips were soft and sure, his Pretty's eyes closing against the water as their lips moved together.

  Rig relaxed against Dick, just letting himself float, rest. Dick seemed just as happy to float with him, the strong body supporting him, hands moving idly, gently on his skin. Rig actually dozed off, leaning hard, resting hard. He woke to Dick's hands moving with more intent, slipping and sliding over him, soaping him up as Dick washed him.

  "Mmm. Hey. Sorry. Damn, that feels good.” Jesus, what was wrong with him?

  "You've been working too hard again,” Dick murmured. “Ruining all the relaxation of our holiday."

  "No, just real tired.” Bone-deep.

  "You not been sleeping right?” Dick rinsed him down.

  "I have.” He just wasn't keeping enough down.

  Dick turned his face up, looking into his eyes. “Why're you so tired then?"

  "I don't know.” And that was the God's honest truth.

  Dick brought their mouths together, the kiss soft and gentle. “Well let's get you out of the shower and into bed."

  "You need your dessert, Pretty. I have laundry.” Thank God for Maria and her crew, if he had to do housework, he'd be in trouble.

  "I can do the laundry for you, Rig—you're tired.” Dick leaned past him to turn the shower off.

  "You're busy.” They tumbled out of the shower, leaning on each other.

  Dick grabbed two towels, wrapping one around his own shoulders and then drying Rig down. “So? I can throw on some laundry for you, Rig. You're not looking that good, to tell the truth."

  "I'm thinking about seeing one of the guys at work, just having them give me a physical."

  Dick's hand stilled a moment, and then slowly continued patting him down with the towel. “You feeling that bad, huh?"

  "No. No, just being careful. No reason to feel tired if I don't have to...” No reason to worry his boys, if he didn't have to.

  "Yeah? Okay.” Dick gave him a kiss and grinned. “Come on, let's get you tucked into bed. I'll even go get you a slice of cake, maybe even some ice cream with it."

  "Just ice cream, huh?” He kissed Dick's cheek. “Go hang with Rock for a while, keep him company. I'll doze."

  "Yeah, okay.” Dick's hand squeezed his.

  Rig sighed, crawled into bed. Yeah.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow he'd talk to somebody, get them to run some tests.

  Just in case.

  Chapter Twenty

  He was running the wiring in the spare room, the house weird and quiet with the fuse box turned off. Rig had been working diligently on this room forever. Now it was fixing to be November, and he was reaching done, even if it had taken too long.

  The windows were huge, t
he floor smoothed. The drywall was done, thanks to Rock, and he was ready to prime and paint and have a nice room to watch the winter come in. Maybe put Christmas lights in. He drew the wires down through the ceiling and headed down the ladder to fetch up the ceiling fan, breathing just a little heavy.

  "Hey, Rig—you need some help?” Dick asked, head popping round the door.

  "Always.” He stretched for a nice, long kiss and then moved to climb the ladder. “Hand me up that ceiling fan, yeah?"

  "Okay.” He looked down to find Dick grinning up at him. “'Course I might get distracted by the display."

  "Flatterer.” He stuck his tongue out and winked. He was in ancient, filthy jeans that were damn near falling and one of Rock's oldest sweatshirts, dust in his hair and his tool belt around his waist. Sex on a stick, he wasn't.

  "Nope. I just know a good thing when I see one."

  Rig blushed and grinned wide. “You make me feel good, Pretty. What do you think? The room's looking damned good, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, you've done a real good job.” Dick handed him up the fan. “You deserve a reward."

  "A reward? I thought Rock deciding to give up bitching at me was my reward.” He chuckled and balanced the light fixture, laughter trailing off as he fastened wire together and added insulators.

  Dick waited until he was done and then warm hands slid up along his legs. “I was thinking of something a whole lot more physical."

  "Mmm ... You're a temptation waiting to happen. Hold me steady, I'm going to mount it."

  Dick burst out laughing. He rolled his eyes and slid the fan over the mounting hub, screwing in the base.

  "I'm sorry,” grinned Dick. “You've got to admit it sounded pretty damn suggestive."

  "You, Dick-weed, are a jackass. You're mine, and I adore you, but you're a jackass.” He chuckled as he finished up. “There we go. Now I can work in here at night."

  "We should test it out.” Dick's hands slid up his body as he climbed down the ladder.

  "Yep. Gotta balance the blades, too.” Rig nodded, relaxing back into Dick's hands.

  Dick nuzzled at his neck. “You need help balancing your blade, Rig?"

  "Mmm...” He tilted his head, humming softly. “You keep that up, Pretty, and I'm going to need, all right."

  "Good."

  Dick's hand slid across the front of his jeans.

  "Just think how it'll be, Dick. Fucking up here while a storm rolls in? Watching the lightning?” He snuggled back, thighs parting.

  "Sounds great.” Dick rubbed against his ass. “Of course I don't need a storm to fuck you."

  "No? You don't think?"

  Dick slapped his ass and turned him around, taking his mouth. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around Dick's neck and tugging him closer, lips parting wide. Sexy bastard. Beautiful, dear, sexy bastard. Dick's hands slid along his ass, pulling him close, kissing him deep. He fed Dick a long moan, fingers tangling in the soft-soft hair. “Dick. Pretty. Oh, fuck, you taste good."

  "Let's go to bed, Rig. Do this right."

  Rig nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He grinned over, kissing the corner of Dick's mouth. “You make me want, Pretty."

  "Feeling's mutual, Rig.” Dick grinned. “We need a couch in here. Or a bed."

  Rig nodded. “A big old cushy sofa. Big enough for three."

  "Sounds perfect, but right now? The bedroom. We could even pick Rock up if we swing by the living room."

  He had to admire the kid's focus. Rig grabbed Dick's hand and headed for the stairs. “Come on, Pretty. Let's go get our old man and warm the bed sheets."

  Chapter Twenty One

  Dick sighed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked over at the clock on the oven, surprised at how late it had gotten. And he was only halfway through his chapters. He hated pulling all-nighters. Especially with what he had waiting for him in the bedroom. Still, he was halfway there. Another chapter and he'd make some more coffee.

  Hands landed on his shoulders, pushing in deep, working out one ache after another. Oh. Rig. Groaning, he let his head drop and closed his eyes, let Rig's hands make him feel better. Rig never said a word, just touched him. Rubbed him. Loved on him. Inch by inch he relaxed, Rig's hands working magic on him.

  The nape of his neck was kissed, so softly, then Rig closed his book, encouraged him to stand.

  "I oughta be studying.” His heart wasn't in it though, not with Rig right here, making him feel good.

  "Mmhmm. Bed, Pretty.” Rig walked him back, turning lights out as he went. “Come love on me."

  "I can't turn down an offer like that.” He smiled, hands tracing Rig's ribs, his sides and abdomen.

  "You know it.” All the way down the hall, into the bedroom and the whole way he was getting long, slow, lazy kisses. He sank into each one, tongue sliding with Rig's, his heart beat starting to pick up, warmth in his belly.

  They had his buttons open, his zipper down by the time they got to the bedroom. He shrugged out of his t-shirt, smiling at Rock, snoring away, arm flung over his eyes. Then his attention was back on Rig, their mouths coming together in a kiss that had a little more heat behind it.

  Rig eased him into the bed, never breaking the kiss, tongue sliding against his. He lay back, arms sliding around Rig, loving the weight of Rig on him. One hand was on his cock, moving nice and steady, just right to blow the top of his head off.

  "You make me feel so good.” It was so easy to forget about his studies and his tiredness with Rig's hands on him.

  "It's my job. Relax, Pretty. Let me give this to you.” Lips brushed his, slid on his chest.

  He could do that. He found Rig's head with his hands, slid his fingers through the almost white curls, heat curling through his body. With the softest touches, tugs, and kisses, Rig just made him fly, made the need grow and throb through him. His body undulated, pushing into the touches, the kisses, working with Rig as the sensations built.

  "That's it, Pretty. Come on. Come on for me.” Rig kissed him hard, thumb working his cock.

  His moans pushed into Rig's mouth as his body jerked, spunk spraying from him.

  He was almost asleep as Rig eased him through the aftershocks, tongue sliding down to clean him.

  "I need to get up early to finish that book,” he murmured, stroking Rig's head, his shoulders,

  "Okay. I'll wake you.” Rig cuddled in, hand twining with his.

  "Cool.” He nuzzled, something tickling at him, not letting him drift right off yet. “You good? Less tired?"

  "Mmm. I'll be fine, Pretty. Just fine."

  "Yeah? Good.” He kissed Rig's shoulder and squeezed the hand twined with his, and let go.

  He was exactly where he wanted to be and all nighters were for college kids who didn't have lovers to curl up with.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  He watched as Rig and Dick danced around the new room, making their way slowly from one end of the big windows down to the other and back again. It made a pretty picture with the moon and the waves behind them.

  Of course you couldn't make out with pictures.

  "That's the fourth song in a row,” he told them.

  "Mmm?” Rig was cuddled in close, lips sliding over Dick's throat.

  "Dancing—that's the fourth song in a row the two of you have been way over there."

  "He wants us to dance closer, Pretty?” Rig rocked, hummed softly.

  Dick chuckled and pulled Rig in tighter. “I can do that."

  He rolled his eyes. “There's a whole set of horizontal dances you're missing out on."

  Rig hummed and started wiggling, drawing them closer, step by step. “You could dance with us..."

  "That means getting up,” he pointed out reasonably.

  "That's bad?” Rig moaned as Dick started working that long throat. Oh, the kid was not playing fair.

  "I'm already up,” he said, hand on his prick, rubbing. As he watched, his slut licked those sweet, kiss-swollen lips. He grunted, opening his pants and letting his prick push out. Rock took himself i
n hand, pumping slowly.

  Rig moaned. “Mmm ... Pretty ... Look at our old man. So fucking fine."

  Dick moaned softly. “Yeah. Hot."

  "It's all yours,” he told them, stopping long enough to pull off his t-shirt, sweeten the view and the temptation.

  Those grey eyes slid over his body, almost hot enough to feel. They stepped a little closer, Rig rubbing up against Dick's thigh. He pushed off his jeans and spread his legs wide, cupping his balls as he stroked long and slow up along his cock.

  "Mmm ... Blue...” Rig whimpered and took Dick's lips in a hard, needy kiss, hands burying in Dick's hair.

  He growled. No fair. He was getting Rig all hot and bothered and Dick was reaping the rewards. He leaned forward, grunting in triumph as he snagged the belt loop on Dick's jeans and tugged hard, bringing Dick and Rig toward him.

  Rig's hand landed on his belly, sliding down to circle his cock. “Mmm ... So hot."

  He rumbled happily, pushing his hips up, encouraging the touches.

  Dick's fingers slid over his chest, tugging at the ring in his nipple and flicking across the unadorned one. He rumbled happily.

  "My Blue ... Hungry for you.” Rig licked his belly, nudging Dick out of the way to get to his cock. Oh yeah, this was what he'd fucking wanted. He spread his legs wider, pushing his prick against Rig's lips.

  Dick grinned and mouthed “slut” at him. Rig swallowed him down, lips hot and wet on his cock, pulling hard. He groaned, head falling back. It didn't matter how fucking often Rig sucked him, it was always amazing.

  The kid took advantage of his position, kneeling next to him on the couch and licking at his neck. Fucking decadent—his men licking and sucking and touching his body, making him feel fucking good. He slid his hands over them, touching where he could, groaning, letting them know it was fucking good. Rig was humming, sucking, head bobbing on his prick, tongue fucking the slit. Fuck. Yes.

  Dick's fingers were back at his nipples, the kid's sweet mouth pulling a mark up on his neck. It was like Rig and Dick were connected, fire zinging between their mouths. One long finger slid behind his balls, circling his hole before pushing in deep. He roared, shooting his load down Rig's throat. His own personal redneck drank him down, throat working his cock.