Wild Angels

by Bethany Brown

  Brad whimpered into his mouth. The sound went right to Patrick’s cock, filling it with blood as Brad’s hands migrated from his hair to his thighs, inching their way upward and inward. He knew he could make Brad make even more achingly hot noises. He wanted to work his way down that firm body, taking his time to explore Brad’s chest, his nipples, the sharp bones of his hips. He wanted to trace his tongue down the inside of Brad’s thighs, roll his heavy balls in his palm, and hear him cry out when Patrick sucked his cock into his mouth for the first time. But it was impossible to move away with Brad’s prick rubbing against his ass and Brad’s questing fingers circling slowly up his legs, slowly but surely zeroing in on his throbbing erection.

  “Why did I let you keep the rest of your clothes?” Brad breathed between kisses, slipping his hands under the hem of Patrick’s boxers and drawing his fingernails lightly up his thighs.

  “Temporary insanity?” Patrick suggested. He licked across Brad’s open mouth once more before sitting upright long enough to pull off his shirt and drop it on the floor.

  That was a mistake, if he wanted to retain any control tonight whatsoever. He’d forgotten how crazy Brad went over the nipple ring. Once Brad’s eyes caught it, it was only a matter of time before Patrick was on his back again, Brad mirroring his position from earlier, ass pressing down firmly on Patrick’s dick. Patrick couldn’t keep his body from arching up into the incredible heat of Brad’s mouth as his tongue played with the ring through Patrick’s nipple. Every time he did, his erection slid perfectly against Brad’s ass, sending bolts of desire to his brain. God, Patrick wanted to be inside him, wanted to show Brad how good it felt to give your body to another man, show him just how good Brad had made Patrick feel the other night, but he knew Brad wasn’t ready. Not yet.

  “Oh, fuck, Angel!” Brad had closed his teeth around the nipple piercing again, only this time he was turning the ring with his tongue, twisting the flesh around it. Patrick threw his head back, grabbing onto Brad’s hips to grind him down hard against his cock.

  Brad moaned deeply, mouth falling open against Patrick’s chest. Panting, Patrick rolled them over again, taking Brad’s shorts in both hands and pulling them swiftly down his long legs. If he couldn’t have Brad’s ass, he sure as hell was going to get that cock in his mouth. Tuesday night, Brad had undone him with his hands and tongue. Now it was Patrick’s turn.

  Skimming his hands down Brad’s body to rest on his hips, Patrick traced a slow path down Brad’s chest with his tongue, starting by dragging his teeth over Brad’s collarbone and then following it down the center of his chest, pausing midway to suckle at one hard nipple.

  “Patrick!”

  Patrick tugged at the flesh with his teeth as Brad writhed beneath him. He pulled back, circling his thumbs teasingly against the skin of Brad’s hips. “You know, Wilde Thing, if you like the piercing so much, we could get you one.”

  “Shit.” Brad whimpered hotly as Patrick continued mapping his stomach with his tongue. “What are you—oh, God, what are you doing?”

  “Writing sonnets to your thighs.” Patrick bit him gently, reveling in the encouraging noises Brad was making in the back of his throat. “With my tongue.”

  “Oh.” Brad’s breath hitched and his stomach heaved under Patrick’s palms.

  “Stop me at any time,” Patrick invited, with absolutely no intention of being stopped whatsoever. Holding Brad’s body down with both hands, he finally flicked his tongue out to taste the end of Brad’s erection, sliding the drop of salty fluid down his throat as Brad trembled beneath his touch.

  “Oh, God.”

  That didn’t sound like stop to Patrick. His own cock twitched in sympathy as he moved a hand to curl around the base of Brad’s prick and took him into his mouth.

  The sound Brad was making now was more a pitchy whine than anything else, hotter than any noise Patrick had heard him make yet. Moaning around his prize, Patrick hollowed his cheeks, slowly moving back up as he sucked, watching Brad’s reactions. The younger man’s eyes were closed, his mouth fallen open. His skin had taken on a permanent rosy flush that was rapidly spreading down from his shoulders. Patrick let his free hand caress Brad’s stomach and thighs as he worked his mouth back down again, picking up his pace and sliding his right hand down to play with Brad’s balls.

  Brad’s hips came right off the bed at that, thrusting automatically in reaction to the stimulation, but instead of fighting him back down again, Patrick went with it, letting him thrust right down his throat as Brad’s fingers curled into his hair. “Oh—shit, fuck, Patrick—”

  Easing him back onto the bed, Patrick never once let up on Brad’s cock, sliding his lips down until he had all of it. He laid his left arm across Brad’s hips to keep him in place and drew his head back again, achingly slow, carefully scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin. Brad bucked and swore, the motion tugging Patrick’s hair just hard enough to cause his dick to swell even further, but Brad was held in place by Patrick’s arm. Grinning inwardly, Patrick lashed his tongue over the slit before sinking quickly onto his cock again. Just as Brad’s prick nudged the back of his throat, he released his hold on Brad’s balls and slid one dry finger back to rub Brad’s entrance.

  Brad’s hoarse shout echoed off the walls. His stomach muscles were so tight under Patrick’s forearm that they were starting to tremble with the strain. Patrick eased back as Brad released his head, reached into the nightstand, and quickly retrieved the necessary supplies.

  Patrick didn’t waste time. He stripped off his boxers and crawled up Brad’s body again, licking a hot path up his neck. “Think you can work with this angle?” he murmured into Brad’s ear, groaning as Brad’s erection brushed against his bare ass.

  “Fuck, I’ll try anything once,” Brad gasped in agreement as Patrick closed his teeth around his earlobe. Patrick heard the cap of the lube being flipped open, his whole body buzzing with anticipation.

  The first finger was cool and tentative against the pucker of his ass, and it was Patrick’s turn to whimper as Brad took his time circling the hole before slowly and gently pressing forward. He pressed a shaky kiss to Brad’s neck as Brad worked the finger in and out slowly, drawing out the pleasure.

  “More,” Patrick demanded quietly, scoring his thumbnail over Brad’s nipple. “More.”

  Brad obliged, stretching him with a second slippery digit, moving the two of them in tandem. Patrick rocked his body back against the fingers and then forward again, rubbing his dripping cock across Brad’s sculpted stomach. Brad scissored his fingers gently and then stroked deeper, and Patrick twisted until Brad was grazing his prostate with every touch. Moaning deeply, he let his head fall next to Brad’s on the pillow.

  Brad turned, the scrape of five o’clock shadow against Patrick’s neck sending another spike of desire to his groin. Then the stubble rasped across the bruise on Patrick’s neck, followed by soothing lips and a tongue, and then Brad slid a third finger deep into Patrick’s body.

  “Fuck!” It took everything Patrick had not to come right there. His cock jerked where it was trapped between their stomachs, leaking more fluid on their skin. “Brad, Angel, you’re killing me.”

  “Ready?” Brad murmured, kissing that spot on his neck again.

  “Oh, yeah.” Patrick sat up just long enough to help Brad roll the condom on. Then, watching as Brad steadied his prick, Patrick lowered himself down.

  Patrick bit his lip as Brad moaned, trembling with the need to move. Inside him, Brad’s cock was pressing just right against his prostate, stretching him perfectly, filling him up. Brad’s eyes were hooded as he held Patrick’s gaze, hands migrating to Patrick’s thighs.

  “God,” Brad whispered, hands flexing convulsively around Patrick’s legs. “Patrick, kiss me.”

  More than happy to oblige, Patrick leaned down, supporting his weight on his left arm. Brad’s cock shifted within him as he did so, setting off a chain reaction in Patrick’s body and making him gasp as he gently
pressed his mouth to Brad’s.

  Brad seemed to have other ideas. His lips parted hungrily and his tongue flicked out to tangle with Patrick’s. Patrick’s body shook as Brad kissed him furiously, aching powerfully with the strain. When he couldn’t hold still for a second longer, he broke away, panting. “Fuck, Brad, that’s—I have to move.”

  Brad nodded frantically, lips swollen and eyes dark. He smoothed his palms up Patrick’s thighs, planted his feet more firmly on the mattress, and rolled his hips. “Good idea.”

  Stars appeared behind Patrick’s eyes, and he fought to keep his movements slow and even, wanting to draw out the pleasure. He and Brad both gasped as he raised himself upward, Brad’s cock slipping out of him inch by inch until only the head remained inside. Brad’s nails dug into his legs when he slid down again, fueling the desperation Patrick felt rising inside him.

  “Sorry,” he groaned, swallowing as he shifted his weight. A drop of clear fluid dribbled down his cock.

  “What for?”

  “For not being able to hold back any longer.” Brad felt too good inside him, looked too good spread out beneath him like that. Patrick had had his eyes closed the last time, but he’d been able to feel and hear Brad coming apart above him. This time, he wanted to watch.

  Patrick centered a palm on Brad’s chest, using it for balance as he began to rock on Brad’s erection. Every time Patrick sank back onto the thick member, Brad groaned. The sound went straight to Patrick’s dick every time. He was starting to think he could get off just on the noises Brad made. They would have to test that theory—later. Much later, if Patrick had anything to say about it. He wasn’t ready to take that kind of sweet torture just yet.

  Brad was utterly lost now, skin painted with a thin layer of sweat. The spreading blush had reached his navel, and Patrick traced its progress with his left hand as he continued to ride Brad’s cock.

  “Patrick.” Brad was watching him through slitted eyes, fingers clutching convulsively around Patrick’s thighs. “Shit, that’s good, that’s—oh, God, don’t stop.”

  Patrick didn’t stop. His mouth was dry, his body overheating as Brad’s prick rubbed right across his prostate. The pleasure of it was so intense he wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t, needing to watch Brad’s face as he found his release.

  Needing Brad harder, deeper, faster, Patrick leaned back a little, hovering high above his lover for fractions of a second before grinding down again hard, feeling Brad’s erection scrape perfectly over his sweet spot. Brad’s fingers crept further up his thighs as he did so, circling the skin around his balls lightly.

  Instinctively, Patrick reached down and flicked Brad’s nipple, twisting the hard little bud between his fingers as he moved, and was rewarded with soft, needy pants. “Oh, oh, oh, God,” Brad keened.

  The flush was full-body now, disappearing at the base of his dark red cock. Patrick’s balls tightened at the sight, and Brad’s left hand curled around to caress them as he smoothed his right thumb through the fluid at the tip of Patrick’s leaking dick. Ruthlessly tamping down on the urge to come, Patrick leaned over and licked a line up the center of Brad’s chest just as he gave his nipple a particularly vicious squeeze.

  “Fuck—shit—fuck, Patrick, God, oh, God, yes, yes—” Brad’s color deepened. His head fell back against the pillow. As his cock pulsed hard inside Patrick’s ass, he made the hottest little noise, almost a sob, and his hand contracted firmly on Patrick’s dick.

  Patrick was breathless, or he would have howled. He kept fucking himself on Brad’s still-throbbing erection until he couldn’t hold it back any longer, and then he threw his head back and came in thick, ropy spurts, shooting his seed over Brad’s stomach.

  Breathing hard, Patrick let himself fall forward, finding himself nose-to-nose with a blissed-out Brad. He kissed Brad quickly, needing to break it off so that his body could continue to pump air into his lungs.

  “Did you see God just then?” Brad panted, rubbing his nose against Patrick’s cheek.

  Patrick sighed into the touch. “No.” He kissed the bridge of the nose and then the skin between Brad’s eyebrows. “Just an angel.”

  Brad’s shy answering grin was far too sweet to endure, so Patrick kissed it off of him, cupping Brad’s face in his hands. He was so far out of his depth with Brad that it wasn’t even funny. It was way past too late to get away from this—whatever this was—with his heart intact, but fuck, who cared? He was not going to let the fact that he was ultimately going to have to leave Brad ruin what was quickly becoming the best experience of his life.

  He was already broken, anyway. What would it matter if his heart broke too?

  Chapter 13

  Jack hung up the phone. Finally, they were getting somewhere. Now that it was morning and they would once again be able to see in the wooded areas, they were forming search parties. Due to the massive amount of rain the day before, the dogs had been unable to pick up Hallie’s trail.

  “Was that Roxanne?” Julian appeared at his side the moment he turned around. Jack pulled him close and wrapped his arms around his lover. The young doctor melted into his embrace with a sigh.

  “It was. They’re organizing search parties, and asking that everyone who wants to help meet at the rec center, and then they’re going to split us into groups from there.”

  “Do you think we should call Patrick? He’ll probably want to help.” The suggestion had just left Julian’s mouth when Jack heard the front door open. “Never mind.”

  “I’ll go check if he wants to come with us.” Jack gave his lover a quick kiss and then left the room. When he saw that the entranceway was empty, Jack headed down the hall to Patrick’s room. After Patrick had been there for three days, Jack had realized that he would never again think of the room as the guest room. Patrick had put so much of his personality into the small room that it would always be Patrick’s room in Jack’s mind. He was oddly okay with that development.

  Jack stopped in the doorway to stare at the spectacle in front of him. Patrick’s back was to him. He seemed to be struggling to pull something on over his shoulder, but it wasn’t working. Jack was having a hard time figuring out what the contraption was until he spotted the gun on the bed. “Scribbles, what are you doing?”

  “Officer Keyes called while I was at Brad’s and said that they were forming search parties, so I’m getting ready to go.”

  Jack continued to lean against the door and watch Patrick’s antics. He was trying very hard not to laugh. “Is Brad going?”

  “Of course he is.”

  “Then why aren’t you going with him?”

  “I told him I had to change.”

  “And did you?”

  “I changed my shirt.” Patrick growled in frustration and finally turned to face him. His green eyes were nearly glowing with annoyance. “Are you going to help me or are you going to just stand there?”

  Jack laughed, stepped away from the door, and headed over to the cranky detective. “What exactly do you need me to do?”

  “Help me get this damn thing on! I can’t do it with one hand.”

  “Should you even be doing this?” Jack stopped in front of him and grasped the shoulder holster, sliding it slowly up Patrick’s bad arm.

  “You don’t really think that I’m going to go searching for a missing little girl in the woods without a gun, do you?”

  “You really think a handgun will be useful against wildlife?”

  “It’s really good for shooting pervs.” Patrick winced as Jack settled the leather strap on his sore shoulder. “Ow.”

  “Are you sure you want this on your shoulder?”

  “Not really, but I left my inner pants holster at home.”

  Jack tried to keep a straight face. “You have a holster for your pants?”

  “Shut up.”

  Jack took one look at Patrick’s annoyed face and burst into laughter. He released Patrick’s shoulders so he wouldn’t hurt the injured man and collapsed onto th
e bed. Jack felt Patrick kick his ankle, but that didn’t stop him. He was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

  “Jack, don’t make me shoot you.”

  “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

  “You don’t need both of your legs,” Patrick snarled. Jack stopped laughing long enough to look up at the other man. The presence of actual anger burning in the green eyes caused the laughter to die in his throat. Patrick had settled the holster while Jack had been having his laughing fit, and the gun was now in place. He looked a lot more dangerous than he had when he first arrived.

  “Um, sorry?”

  “Thank you.” Patrick sighed. “Can you help me adjust these straps so it doesn’t dig into my shoulder so much?”

  “Sure.” Jack climbed off the bed and slowly approached Patrick. He was feeling a tad nervous about touching the obviously still-annoyed man. When Patrick gave him a small smile, he relaxed.

  Following the instructions that Patrick gave him, Jack managed to help him adjust the holster so it wasn’t digging into his shoulder. Once everything was to Patrick’s liking, Jack stepped back, running his hands down the other man’s arms. Looking at Patrick with his shoulder holster on made him seem different. Jack had known that, as a cop, Patrick was dangerous, but he had never seen it before.

  “So, ready to go?”

  “Help me put my jacket on? I don’t want Julian to see the gun.”

  “He probably knows what we’ve been doing in here.”

  “I know, but he feels better when he doesn’t see that I have it on.” Patrick sighed and held out his jacket. “Please?”

  “Fine,” Jack sighed. He took the jacket from Patrick’s hands and after helping Patrick pull the garment on, he stood back and watched as Patrick settled the jacket to his liking. Once he was finished, it didn’t look as though he was wearing a gun. “That is impressive.”