by RGAlexander
Jeremy glanced over at the focal point of the room. That was one giant bathtub. Old fashioned, saloon-style and sturdy. He had a feeling it was just what the doctor ordered to improve Owen’s mood. He looked for something to wipe it down and got to work.
By the time Owen had come back in, the scalding-hot water was filling the tub and Jeremy had everything ready.
“I didn’t see anyone creeping around with bloody machetes, but there’s a workshop in the back,” Owen started as soon as he came in. “A sawhorse and—what are you doing?”
He let Owen’s gaze linger over his naked body before turning to bend over and shut off the water. “I think we could both use a bath, don’t you? If you take off your clothes and join me, I might even scrub your back.”
Owen eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure it’s—”
“And fuck you.”
“I’m in.” Owen kicked off his boots, and shucked his jeans with such swift expertise that Jeremy had to laugh.
“You are a sex addict.”
Owen was in front of him, pulling him closer with firm hands on his hips before he could finish his sentence. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Jenny.”
“Payback is a bitch, Finn. Get in the tub.”
Jeremy studied the man who’d changed his life a year ago, the man who’d been his straight best friend for two decades before deciding he wanted to see how the other half lived.
Owen’s dark blond hair, bleached golden by the sun from his day job, was a little longer than it had been the first time Jeremy had run his fingers through it, and the lines around his crystal blue eyes were a little deeper lately—from whatever he’d had on his mind. But he was still the sexiest man in any room. Or plane.
Jeremy shook his head ruefully. He wasn’t exaggerating about that stewardess. She’s been on Owen since takeoff, so tenacious he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d slipped her phone number into his man’s pocket, and Owen hadn’t told him because he didn’t think it mattered.
It took some getting used to, being in a relationship with someone who seemed to emit sexual pheromones. If Owen hadn’t made sure the both of them went to bed too exhausted to move every night for the last year, Jeremy would be insecure.
But he wasn’t. Owen told him he loved him every day and rarely gave him room to doubt that he was happy. Until recently.
Shaking off his worry, Jeremy followed Owen into the bathtub and they splashed and swore, squeaking around in the tub and laughing together until they found the right fit.
Reaching for his soap on the chair he’d pushed beside the tub, he handed it to Owen before leaning back on his side of the curved copper. “All the comforts of home.”
Owen snorted. “I’m not sure where you’ve been living, Porter, but I’ll admit, any tub that can fit two men over six feet tall is worthy of praise.”
“We should get one just like it,” Jeremy said casually. “Think of the possibilities.”
Blue eyes darkened with interest and arousal. “Believe me, I’m thinking.”
“Give me that.” Jeremy took the soap and lathered his hands, washing himself and trying to ignore Owen’s long, lean legs resting over his.
Wash first, then fun. “Did you say Tanaka took Brady home the other night?”
“He did. When Brady called me back the next morning he said Ken had hired him to help with a job. He sounded distracted, but it’s more likely he was hung over. The Finn giant put away most of the rum in the bar.”
Frowning, Jeremy asked, “Do you think he’s okay? Should we feel like shit?”
“He’s fine,” Owen said, shaking his head. “I promise you, he was ready for the change.”
Jeremy knew some of the guilt was his own baggage, hating the idea that anyone would feel unwanted in his home after what his parents had done to him. But Brady was more fragile than the other Finns knew. He couldn’t sleep. He could never relax unless he was doing something for someone else—almost to a penance level. He was running from some inner demons, and he’d managed to put a few of them to rest in their guestroom.
Owen was watching him. “You know I didn’t kick him out. I love that guy and he fixed our roof. But you have to admit the last few days have been nice. Just the two of us again.”
Jeremy smiled. “You’re just happy to get your high score back.”
“I’m happy because our Marine has gone without for at least eight months and Tanaka clearly has a hardcore case of lust. Hopefully before the job is done, he’ll tie my cousin down and help him release all that pent up sexual energy.”
“Even drunk, I can’t see Brady agreeing to that.” Brady couldn’t have made himself clearer every time the topic came up. Kink was not his thing.
But then, Jeremy had thought the same thing. Before Owen.
Jeremy dropped his hands to Owen’s legs, caressing them beneath the water. “Feeling better?”
Owen let his head fall back with a groan and slid down the side of the tub just enough to dip his hair into the warm water. He raised back up and swiped away the rivulets running down his face. “God, that’s good. But no. I have crashed and burned in the planning-trips department. Fuck vacations. As soon as you stop doing that I’m going to dig my phone out of hiding and change our flight. We’ll get home, order a pizza, play a little Swords…and do what comes naturally.”
His words didn’t match his tone. He sounded defeated. It wasn’t like Owen at all. Easygoing and full-steam-ahead—that was Owen. Jeremy didn’t like how worried that made him. What the hell was going on with his Finn?
Jeremy gripped Owen’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap, heedless of the splashing water. “No.”
“Wha—Jeremy what are you doing?”
“We’re not going anywhere. Not for the next two weeks.”
Owen looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Babe, look around. No bed, no couch, no radio or television. All we have here are frozen dinners, a tub and a cabin that could fall down around us at any moment. It’s my fault, and I’ll accept the blame, but those are the facts. Why in God’s name would we want to stay?”
Jeremy reached up and dragged Owen’s head down for a passionate kiss without answering. Their moans of desire mingled as they ate at each other’s mouths, tongues dueling and tangling, teeth scraping lips and biting hungrily.
Sliding his large hand around Owen’s erection, Jeremy stroked it the way he knew Owen could never resist. He loved the sounds he was making. Loved how quickly he could drive him wild.
Owen turned his head, panting. “Fuck, Jeremy. You know I can’t think when you do that.”
He was counting on it. “I want you on your knees, hands on the edge of the tub,” he ordered roughly. “You don’t have to think at all. Just do it for me.”
Owen shuddered and lifted himself off Jeremy’s lap, splashing more water onto the floor as he turned and positioned himself.
Jeremy got to his knees behind him. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”
He reached for the bottle of lube they’d brought with them and opened the cap, taking his time. He drizzled some on his erection and let more drip between the cheeks of Owen’s ass.
“I remember the first time I got inside you,” he murmured. “You were begging me, ordering me to take you, despite your virgin ass. I was so fucking turned on. And so worried I’d hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” Owen rasped. “Okay, you did, but in the best fucking way. You filled me with that big fat cock and turned me into an addict.”
“I’m the one who’s addicted,” Jeremy countered, pressing the pads of his fingers against Owen’s tight ass. “That’s why I let you take me blindfolded in the dirt. Why I beg for that damn paddle of yours. Why my mouth waters every time I see your delicious dick.”
Owen moaned when Jeremy pushed two fingers inside his snug hole.
“Yes.” He pushed back, his hands tight on the tub’s edge. “I can give it to you right now, Jeremy. I love it when you suck me off. I love fucking that hot
mouth. I want it all the time.”
He did. In alleys and office buildings, the dock on the lake, and once in a damn movie theater. And Jeremy could never resist him. He’d dropped to his knees and take him anytime he asked. He thought about the airplane, trying to remember if that was the first time he’d turned him down.
“You want me to stop this so I can taste you instead?” Jeremy thrust his fingers deeper, curling them until Owen let out a soft cry.
“No. Fuck, no. Don’t stop. You know what I want.”
“You want this all the time too, don’t you? You like your handcuffs and toys but you fucking love having me inside you.”
“Yes, damn it. You know I do,” Owen admitted raggedly. “Please, Jeremy. Don’t tease me.”
Jeremy was too turned on for that. Something about this stark place made him feel wilder than usual. More aggressive. “I hope you’re ready for me.”
He guided his thick shaft slowly inside, groaning when Owen’s ass closed around him like a hungry fist. It didn’t matter how many times he’d had him, this first stretch always brought him right up to the edge. “God, Owen.”
“Yes,” Owen gasped. “More.”
“Don’t worry, you’re getting everything,” Jeremy ground out, pressing his hips forward. “Every fucking inch.”
“Put up or shut up.”
Jeremy tightened his hands on Owen’s hips and dragged him back onto his shaft with his next thrust, making both of them groan. “Don’t push me,” he warned. “I’m feeling some serious primal urges here.”
“Primal?” Owen shivered, looking over his shoulder, water dripping from his hair.
Jeremy could feel the sharp edge to his smile. “This place makes me want to do things to you. Bad things to this ass.” He thrust more forcefully, nearly all the way in, and they both inhaled sharply.
“Oh, you bastard,” Owen moaned. “You manipulative, tricky, ba—”
Jeremy dragged him completely onto his cock, his hips pressed against Owen’s ass as the man beneath him struggled to catch his breath. Fuck, that was good. He leaned forward until his chest was pressed to Owen’s back, one arm wrapped his waist and the other across his shoulders and chest, holding him still.
Slow, shallow thrusts at first, then longer strokes, just the way he liked it. The way they both loved it. Jeremy slid his hand down Owen’s tight abdomen, and then further.
“I think you like that idea,” he whispered, rocking his hips forward as he stroked Owen’s cock. “I think you want me like this. Wild for you. Only you, with no one to stop me from giving you what your ass is begging for.”
He was shameless. But Owen always brought this out in him.
“Motherfuck—yes. I want it. You’re in me so deep and I still want more. I’ll always… Don’t stop.”
Jeremy was too far gone to play now. He had to have him. Had to come inside him and hear his cries. He started an unforgiving rhythm that made Owen shout his name. “Love fucking you, baby. Love you so much. Love how this tight ass takes me.”
The sounds of slapping skin and sloshing water couldn’t drown out Owen’s pleasure. “God! Fucking me so good I can’t breathe. Fuck, it’s so good.”
Jeremy felt Owen’s climax in his hand and then he was joining him, shuddering as the waves crashed over his body. Owen. Always Owen.
Love you so much.
Owen
“Son of a bitch.” Owen shoved his injured thumb in his mouth and glared at the offending hammer.
It was his own fault. He’d been distracted all morning. Stuck in a loop he couldn’t get out of. Probably because it was day ten of their fourteen-day vacation and he still hadn’t brought up the subject of his future with Jeremy. Mainly that he wanted one, and he wanted it on official, legally binding documents.
He’ll say yes.
Fuck Brady anyway for putting that in his head. It had sounded great at first. Exactly what he’d wanted to hear. But the longer he waited, the more he put it off, the more it sounded like a curse. Something he was going to miss because he was a tool who couldn’t just fucking ask one simple question.
What was stopping him? The issues his cousin had brought up—Owen’s inability to admit he was gay, and his surprise that some people, both gay and straight, were not as thrilled with his happiness as his family had been?
Well, fuck them anyway. He didn’t need people like that in his life.
It bothered him that people could be that ignorant, so he tried to avoid the subject altogether. But Brady told him it upset Jeremy. Made him wonder if Owen was in it for the long haul. And that was unacceptable.
He wasn’t as worried about people giving him the side eye as he was about Jeremy’s schedule the last few months. Between babysitting for Seamus, planning Tasha’s wedding and all his recent “work” phone calls, Owen felt like he was being avoided. Like Jeremy was pulling away.
Not during sex. Sex had never been their problem. But he couldn’t shake his fear that he could lose Jeremy and he didn’t know how to stop it from happening.
He would do whatever it took, though. He would even let Jeremy drive him up the wall with his version of a romantic vacation.
The first morning they woke up on a pile of their own clothes, Owen had cursed the crick in his neck, forgotten about how hard Jeremy had ridden him the night before and started to look for his phone.
But Jeremy had stopped him with a massage that brought him to his knees and, before he knew it, they were back on the floor pumping their way to climax inside each other’s mouths. While he was still recovering, Jeremy had suggested a shopping trip.
Since it was almost physically impossible for Owen to say no to him in that state, Owen had slipped on his jeans and grabbed his keys.
What Jeremy proposed in the car had sounded like an insane idea. A waste of vacation time and money. But as he spoke, he’d unzipped Owen’s jeans and fondled him until he’d had to pull over so he wouldn’t drive into a tree.
The same tree he leaned against while Jeremy knelt by the side of the road and sucked his cock until he came.
Jeremy Porter was a sneaky bastard, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He’d done everything but bend him over in the check-out line to distract him, and Owen was loving letting him but now he’d finally decided to give in. If this was what Jeremy wanted, what would make him happy, then damn it, that’s what they were going to do.
Wouldn’t the owners of the scary shack be surprised when they came back to find a real live cabin with a new paint job, a deck and a few necessary pieces of furniture?
He pulled his thumb out of his mouth and looked at the red appendage. He’d done a lot of complaining those first few days, most of it silent so Jeremy wouldn’t stop the full-body massages he was getting so used to. But Owen had to admit things were starting to take shape. He’d even gotten a welcome mat for the front door, after he’d fixed those stairs.
For his part, Jeremy seemed to be having a great time. He told Owen that it felt like they were creating something together, with Owen building things that he could help design and paint.
He was in love with an artist. A geek with broad shoulders, muscles for miles, a porn-sized cock and crazy ideas.
His only comfort was that even though they might be working on the cabin during the day, at night—and sometimes in the morning and on breaks in the afternoon—they were busy doing other things.
Being topped hadn’t been in Owen’s getaway plans. In fact he’d been imagining keeping Jeremy tied down for two weeks until he submitted to Owen’s true purpose—proposing. But he couldn’t find it in him to be sorry.
Jeremy’s sexual aggression had been his hottest wet dream come to life. He’d been the one tied up. He’d been the one begging for more when Jeremy took him up against the wall, his teeth digging into Owen’s neck.
Owen lifted his hand to the mark there, wondering how shocked the people who knew him from the BDSM club would be to hear about all the things he’d been willing, even eag
er, to do for Jeremy each night.
Master Finn, indeed.
He wasn’t that worried. He knew who he was and he’d accepted a while ago that what he had with Jeremy was unique. He didn’t know anyone else like them, anyone else who had what they had. They had a chemistry that burned so hot it seemed as if it would never burn out. But they also had a true, long-lasting friendship.
Before they’d started having sex, for all of his adult life, Jeremy was the person Owen had turned to when he needed advice. When he just needed to be himself. Jeremy was his go-to guy. Even before they’d fallen in love, he’d always been his. After? Well, this year had been the best of his life.
Before Jeremy started pulling away, everything had been perfect.
They’d gotten it back in the last ten days. Their connection. Their ability to just enjoy each other’s company in between dirty fucking interludes of bliss. That was worth a little hammer to the thumb.
He felt it throb when he thought about it and decided to go inside for a cold beer and a break. When he left earlier, Jeremy had been planning to paint so all the windows were open as he walked toward the front door. He stopped moving when he heard Jeremy’s voice.
“I won’t. I want to tell him, but I won’t.” Pause. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, I promise.” Pause. “I do too. Talk to you soon.”
For a minute Owen saw red, and then it felt like someone had hammered one nail into his head and another in his heart. He almost staggered from the surprise. They’d had a deal—no distractions, and that included no phones. Owen had hidden the damn thing in the trunk of the car, but Jeremy had obviously found it.
I want to tell him, but I won’t.
Was it the photographer he’d met at conference—George something? The one who’d been calling at least once a day since Jeremy got back? The one Jeremy lowered his voice for and left the room to talk to, sending irritated looks at Owen when he found him trying to listen in?
Owen had looked up George’s work online. Most of it was ridiculous nerd porn. Models dressed in sexualized versions of comic book superheroes and villains, with a lot of gender reversal. He might have found it interesting if George wasn’t the asshole trying to steal his man.
