by J. D. Walker
We didn’t say anything, and I was left to contemplate what he’d admitted to me earlier. That was indeed a revelation. Who would have thought that Rafe Zumpano, chick-magnet extraordinaire and town lush, had been crushing on me for years? I didn’t know if I’d ever recover from that admission.
And now, here we were, walking side by side on a frickin’ date, something I’d written off as never happening when I was in my teens. It was a lot to take in.
We neared an outcrop of rocks and Rafe sat on a huge boulder. I took the one next to him. “So is this weird?” he asked, playing with his sandals as he dug his bare feet into the still-warm sand.
“Yes, but it’s okay. I’ll get used to it. It’s just a bit of a shock, is all.”
“I kept watching you for years, hoping you wouldn’t hook up with anyone, though I didn’t have the right to think that, since I wasn’t even brave enough to approach you.”
“How is that different from now?” I asked. “You’ve told me, and you’ve told Serge. I know you’ll eventually tell Mila and Peter. They won’t care. The people who work for you? This town? Can you handle that? Because I won’t date you, if that’s where this is heading, unless I know you mean it, that you won’t run back into the closet the minute things get difficult. I will not be on the down-low for anyone, and you shouldn’t either. I don’t mean to be an ass about it, but life’s too short. I need proof.”
Rafe’s expression was unreadable as he put on his sandals and stood. “Give me your hand.”
I was confused. “What?”
He tugged on my fingers and hauled me up. “Come with me.”
I stumbled along behind him as I said, “Where the hell are we going?” I tried to put on my sandals and keep up with him.
He didn’t answer me, and we strolled along, hand in hand. My palms were sweaty because yes, Rafe Zumpano, former homophobe, was leading us straight into town. People would see.
It was what I wanted, right?
* * * *
The town was busy, though it was Sunday night. Families were still out and about, some getting ice cream, others having a meal or heading to the theater or hanging out in groups. Though there was a mixture of tourists, there were enough locals who would recognize us in a heartbeat.
I tugged on Rafe’s hand. He wouldn’t budge. “You don’t have to do it like this, you know. There are other ways.”
“I think this will do it, don’t you?” he said, keeping my hand tightly in his grasp as we strode through town.
Of course, we encountered people we knew, every last one of whom stared openly at the sight of their sheriff holding hands with another man.
He greeted the townsfolk, as did I. Everyone had dazed looks on their faces as we passed by, but a few wore smiles and seemed to be thinking, “Ah, now it makes sense.”
We ran across some of Rafe’s old girlfriends who either gave me hateful looks or just shook their heads as if to say, “Now I get it.”
By the time we arrived at the police station, it was like the Red Sea had parted around us. “I want to grab something from my office,” he declared as he tugged me through the front door.
“No, you don’t have to go in there,” I replied.
But that didn’t stop him. I nodded at the officer on duty at the desk who stared, nonplussed, as we sauntered by his station. There were only a few cops on duty tonight, and every last one of them stopped mid-conversation, mid-typing, mid-coffee sip, and gaped as we made our way to Rafe’s office.
Once he closed the door behind him, Rafe slumped against it, my hand still in his. “You think that’ll do it?” he asked, his breath slightly uneven and his brow a little sweaty.
I studied him for a minute. Now that we were alone and away from prying eyes, Rafe trembled.
“You okay, Sheriff?”
“That was like walking the gauntlet. Jesus.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door.
It floored me that he would put himself through that, but then, I’d asked him for proof. I guess he was serious. “Thank you, Rafe. I know that was hard as hell.”
He opened his eyes and his face softened as he smiled. “I like it when you call me Sheriff, though I always pretended otherwise.” He pulled me closer to him, our bodies as one against the door. “I don’t know how to do this. Yes, I’ve been with men, but it was hit and run. I’ve been with women, but it didn’t last, for obvious reasons. This is all new to me, so I hope you’ll be patient. I could backslide, and I’m an alcoholic.”
“Baby steps, Rafe. I’ve been waiting for you since I was ten years old and said my first word since the death of my parents.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
I proved it in the best way possible. I kissed the lips that had been in my dreams since childhood.
It was soft, at first. Rafe was hesitant, probably shocked that I would be so bold, especially in his office with cops on the other side of the door. I placed my free hand on the back of his head and tilted it just…so. There, that was perfect.
I rubbed my tongue against his lips, seeking entrance until he let me in. Rafe tasted like the sea and his own unique flavor. So different from the last time. He was a good kisser, but I made him groan every time I sucked on his tongue. I squashed him into the door, our hands still locked together like our lips, and his free hand now creeping up around my waist.
Lifting my knee, I nudged between his legs so I could push up against his balls. Rafe jumped a little at the pressure, then sank into me, wanting more. I let go of his hand and grabbed his face, holding him still so I could savor his mouth over and over again.
We went on like this for minutes on end, breathing when necessary and leaning into each other, going back and forth, my lips sore and not giving a damn. After a while, I pulled away and touched my forehead to his.
“We should slow down,” I murmured. “This is too new to fuck up.”
He took a deep breath. “It won’t be. I’m willing to do anything so you know I’m serious about this. I want to do it right. If you want to stop, that’s fine. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.”
To hell with it. “Let’s go home, then. I’m this close to taking you on the goddamn floor and I don’t think you’ll be able to live that down if we do it here.”
Rafe pushed back my head and sucked my Adam’s apple before responding. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I moved away so he could open the door. Thankfully, the shirts we both wore were long enough to cover our throbbing dicks. Faces flushed, we exited Rafe’s office and left the precinct, uncaring of the stares that followed us.
* * * *
It took a little while to make it back to the house, by which time our ardor had cooled to a simmer. Rafe let us inside and led the way to the bedroom. When we got there, he closed the door and pushed me up against it. “I’ve had this done to me many times, but I want to try it with you.”
“What?” I asked as I ran a hand over his short hair. It felt good against my fingers.
“Suck you off. I want to look up and see you lose it. You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen, guy or girl, and I want to please you, more than anything. Let me? Please?”
All I could do was nod.
He slid slowly to the floor. To have Rafe kneel at my feet was heady. The big, bad sheriff, ready and willing to do my bidding. The very thought of what else I could do to him in that position made my dick even harder than it already was.
Rafe unbuttoned my fly, pulled down the zipper, then tugged my shorts and boxers to my knees. “Wow, you’re thick, aren’t you?”
I held my cock and tapped his mouth with the leaky tip. “Think you can take it?”
In answer, he opened wide.
“Good boy,” I praised and slowly fed him my dick.
He reached up and caressed my balls as he sucked hard and long with every bob of his head.
“Damn, you’re good at this,” I whispered, moaning at the exquisite suction he gave me.
I took my time, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but he was eager and kept pushing for more, so eventually I gave him everything. When I reached the back of his throat, I held my cock there until he choked a little, then pulled it out.
“Like that, do you?” I said as I tapped his mouth again. He nodded eagerly and opened wide again.
“If you’re good, I might fuck you later. Would you like that, Sheriff?”
Rafe’s eyes rolled up to look at me and their expression said it all. That was all it took for me to decide playtime was over.
I took charge, held his head steady and fucked his mouth, the spongy feel of his throat closing around me making me hotter than anything I’d ever felt. Something about Rafe made me want to dominate, make him take it all.
“Suck me, boy. Fucking squeeze me until I can’t help but come.”
He did, and I howled. Seconds after I released, Rafe groaned and I finally noticed his hand below whipping over his cock, cum flowing from the tip to his hands and then the floor.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
* * * *
After we cleaned up in the bathroom, I lay on my side next to Rafe as we faced each other in bed. “Is this strange for you?” I asked as I played with the hairs on his chest. There was a little gray there, which I thought was hot.
“No. It feels right, somehow. Like this was meant to be. It sounds cheesy, doesn’t it?” He looked away, embarrassed.
“Hey, look at me,” I said and waited until he faced me again. “If it’s what you feel, then it’s real and it’s true. Don’t diminish it. What we’re working on is unique to us.”
He heaved a sigh. “Okay.” Rafe played with a strand of my hair. “I did not envision this, what’s happening between us, in any way, shape or form. I’m still in shock, frankly. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”
“You and me, both.” But if he could change and take a chance on something new, maybe I could, too. I pushed Rafe onto his back. “I want to explore.”
He smiled. “Be my guest.”
I kissed him again, nestling our bodies together and rotating my hips against his. He reciprocated, our hard cocks rubbing against each other, leaky, messy and perfect. When I felt him tighten, I moved away. “Not yet.”
I nibbled at his neck, sniffed his hairy armpits—I had a thing for hirsute men—and sucked his nipples. Rafe liked that a lot and moaned quite loudly as I worked over his hard little nubbins. Yup, another reason why we couldn’t do anything in his office. He was definitely a screamer.
I raked my hand through the hair on his chest and tugged a little. He arched his back and I felt his cock leak some more against my thigh. “Like a little pain, do you?” I teased, and gave his nipples a vicious twist.
“Shit!” he cried, and pumped more fluid against my leg.
“I guess you do. We’ll explore that some other time. Probably when you’ve pissed me off, as I’m sure you will in the future.”
His chuckle was breathy. “Yeah, probably.”
I lifted one of his legs and nibbled the underside, working my way toward the prize.
“Please, Woody. I need…more.” His cock was bobbing at me, copious amounts of semen glistening on the side to his balls.
“I see that. I’ll get there, when I’m ready.”
I kept on tasting him, moving over both legs, going down to his toes, tonguing his knees. Every time he touched his cock to pump it, I stopped. He quickly figured out the game we were playing and crushed the sheets in his fists instead.
“Bend your knees so I can prepare your hole, Sheriff.”
Rafe immediately complied and I was treated to the beautiful sight of his perfect rosebud. “Man, that’s gorgeous. Bet you taste good, too.”
To test that theory, I sniffed all around him and licked him there, the musky, salty flavor exactly what I needed right then. “Hand me the lube.” Once it was in my hand, I squirted some onto my fingers and began my assault.
It didn’t take long, but then, maybe it did. I neither knew nor cared, because I wanted more of the sounds Rafe made as I gave him what he begged for—loudly—over and over. His prostate made him sing, and God, he was exquisite like this. It was a moment to be treasured, this our first time together.
Rafe had also given me a condom with the lube—smart man—so I suited up and got into position. “You ready for me?” I asked, taking in his eager expression and heavy breathing.
His chest heaved as he said, “I’ve been ready, goddamn it. You’re making me beyond crazy.”
“So, yes, you want me to fuck you, then?” I asked just to be naughty as I ran my dick around his hole.
“Woody, come on!” When he nudged back against my sheathed cock, I knew he was out of patience. So was I.
“Well then, here I come.” I pushed and he let me in, all the way. Man, the slide inside had never been this velvety soft, yet tight at the same time. Damn, I could get lost in his heat.
Rafe clamped down on me and I looked up to see his eyes tightly closed. “Breathe, Sheriff. I can’t give you the good stuff unless you let me move.” I reached between his legs and coaxed his flagging cock a little. “You can do this, I know it.”
He panted as he murmured, “It’s-it’s been a long time since anyone’s…”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” I pumped Rafe’s cock back to life and leaned in to kiss his mouth. The double distraction released his hold on my dick and I was able to slide out, the tip barely held inside before punching back in.
He howled, my favorite sound in the world as I grazed his prostate, again and again, plunging in and out like a machine. “Fuck!” I yelled as I surged toward the end faster than I ever had before, and Rafe was right there with me.
“Shit!” he cried as he spilled his seed all over my fist seconds before I filled the condom, the two of us lost in the perfect dance.
When I collapsed next to Rafe after disposing of the rubber, I said, “We’re doing that again.”
“Duh,” he replied.
* * * *
I was almost late to work on Monday morning, what with the lack of sleep and the marathon fuck sessions Rafe and I had the rest of the night. Loralei was pleased to see me so happy and energetic, despite the bags under my eyes. Serge was merciless with his teasing.
When the day ended, Rafe stopped by for dinner with his brother and me since I’d texted him that I was doing ribs. He kissed me like a man dying of thirst, and I drank it all down, with pleasure. I was still working through the changes that had happened between us over the past few months, and especially this weekend. But it was all good.
“How was work?” I asked Rafe as I basted the ribs.
He shrugged. “It was good for the most part, uncomfortable in others, but it wasn’t the big deal I’d thought it would be. People look at me a little funny, but I’m still the big, bad sheriff, you know.” He winked at me.
“Told you,” Serge and I said at the same time, and we laughed together.
Rafe rolled his eyes and glared at us. “I’m still older than the two of you.”
Serge snorted, and I said, “Yeah, but I’ll blister that ass the moment you forget who’s really the boss around here.”
Instead of being snarky, Rafe smiled brighter than the setting sun. “Looking forward to it.”
THE END
Crumbs Together
For anyone harboring a decadent obsession.
This one’s for you.
Serge Zumpano, you’re a wuss.
I sat in my truck facing Crumbs Together, the best bakery and patisserie I’d ever come across in all my travels with my old job. René Glass, the owner, was known all over the region for his sumptuous treats. His delightful creations were in high demand, so much so that he had decided to expand his business with a second shop an hour up the coast, near the school where my best friend, Woody Anker, worked as a teacher.
It was an old diner that the owners had sold to René for a song, apparently, and no
w, thanks to my lucky stars, René had hired me for the job, something that would definitely put my fledgling renovation business on the way to being in the black, instead of relying on my savings.
So here I was, waiting for the man to open his shop at six in the morning so I could get my fix of his delectable delicacies, whether they be cinnamon rolls, chocolate-filled croissants, or cream-filled whats-its, along with the absolutely necessary hot chocolate with cayenne and fresh bread just out of the oven, with cream cheese, to go. I moaned just thinking about the way the bread would melt in my mouth.
René had studied in Europe and worked for prestigious hotels and restaurants around the world before deciding to settle in our little beach town. I was obsessed with everything he made, though I wasn’t sure it was just because his pastries were beyond good—which they were—or because the man was super, super hot—which he indeed was. No doubt about it.
Didn’t matter, though. I had no chance with a man like that. He was successful, rich, and out of my league. He made me look like a country bumpkin, as refined as he appeared, even when covered in flour or with a streak of frosting on his cheek. Those butterscotch-brown eyes and dark brown hair the color of the chocolate in his fancy baked goods, not to mention the cutest nose I’ve ever seen and such a sweet smile…Okay, that’s enough of that.
Saving me from having an orgasm right there in my truck simply from thinking about the man and food together, I saw the light come on in the storefront of Crumbs Together and prepared for my first viewing of René for the day. It was a good thing my metabolism was pretty damn high because the amount of food I bought from this man should have made me roly-poly a long time ago.
And there he was, pushing backward through the swinging doors that separated the work area from the front of the shop, and placing a huge metal tray on top of the glass counter. Ooh, were those cinnamon rolls? Man…
