by Amber March
Brock chuckled. “Yeah, why would you?”
Dean didn’t know what he meant by that. If it wasn’t for Brock though, he might have been going back to visit Janos on his night off tomorrow and staying in his bed until dawn. That sweet, tempting fantasy was something else to think about longingly and Dean had enough experience to know that fantasy was always better than the reality. Keep some things aside; never try to live them or you’d be disappointed fast.
Janos would have to remain in that category. His and Brock’s shared fuck-toy, granter of all Dean’s wishes apart from one – a private fuck.
The radio crackled to life and Dean wondered how they hadn’t missed a dozen calls while they’d been off the radar. The dispatcher asked for units to respond to a breaking and entering a few blocks away. With amusement in his voice, Brock answered in the affirmative and eased his foot down on the accelerator.
He laughed, looking at Dean. “That’ll be Lewis looking for a good time. Wonder if he’ll wear the rubber suit again.”
Dean sighed. “I don’t think I can go again tonight, Brock.”
“That’s not like you.”
Dean regarded him in admiration. “Are you seriously telling me that after what we just did with Janos, you can get it up all over again?”
Brock shrugged. “Sure.” Quick as a flash, he jammed a hand in Dean’s groin, fingers rubbing through his pants, making him gasp. “And you can too. You’re hard.”
Dean squirmed, helpless not to grasp Brock’s hand and hold it against him, using him to masturbate. “There’s a difference between getting hard and lasting the distance. I don’t think I’ll actually be able to come. My balls are empty, dude.”
Brock smirked. His thick fingers massaged Dean’s cock efficiently. “Then come in and watch. You know I like that.”
Dean smiled reluctantly, because he liked it too. “Okay.”
Brock entered a residential street and parked up. He put on his hat and climbed out, Dean following suit. They walked up the driveway, taking flashlights from their belts and making their way around to the back of the property. They’d had no prior warning from Lewis that this was a bogus call so they had to at least treat it professionally until it was confirmed otherwise.
Brock tried the back door and found it open and Dean stepped inside behind him, their flashlights playing over the granite work surfaces and gleaming fixtures of the kitchen. This was all very déjà-vu for Dean. He felt aroused, but he wished it was Janos on the other end of this trip and on the end of his cock.
A figure loomed up in the hallway suddenly, streaking towards them and Brock drew his gun instantly. “Freeze. Police.”
The man, tall, lean and naked as the day he was born lifted his hands, a smirk on his attractive face. “Officers, it’s me.”
Brock lowered his gun. “I could have shot you, Lewis.”
“Sorry.” Lewis smiled coyly. “I thought I heard an intruder.”
“Sure you did,” Dean said wryly.
Brock holstered his gun. He unbuckled his belt. “Okay Lewis, here’s how it’s going to go. I want you to bend over the nearest available surface. I’m going to ream your ass until your scream. While I do that, my partner here’s going to sit and jerk off while thinking about a hot piece of ass we just had named Janos.”
Dean’s face flamed. Lewis lifted one eyebrow. “Janos? You know Janos?”
Brock looked interested. “He’s our current favourite toy.”
Lewis laughed. “Oh, he’s everyone’s current favourite toy. A little bird told me even your captain’s doing him.”
Brock snickered and received a glower from Dean. Their captain, a mean son of a bitch, all mouth and cock and sinfully attractive, was doing just about everyone in town. “Even better,” Brock said. “I bet you just love the idea of Janos taking all that cock, don’t you, Dean?”
“Sure,” Dean grunted. Fantasising about Janos being fucked by a group of men faded swiftly from his mind. The knot of cold, hard emotion in his gut spoke of something different, something Dean was unfamiliar with.
Brock turned around, eyeing him with a knowing look on his face as though he read all Dean’s shameful little thoughts. He pushed Dean back roughly with a meaty paw, shoving him down onto a chair. “Now watch,” he said, unzipping and unleashing his cock. “And think about your little slut.” He grabbed Lewis by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen, throwing him over the table forcefully.
Lewis laughed in glee, wriggled his ass invitingly and Dean touched himself through his uniform pants, watching intently as Brock pulled the omnipresent lube from his pocket and slicked up both himself and his partner. Lewis yelled as Brock penetrated him swiftly and started to ride him as though he had very important business.
Dean, gaze on Brock’s pistoning ass and thrusting cock, zoned out. He made a sudden decision, standing up. “Give me the car keys, Brock,” he said. “Going to catch forty winks while you’re finishing up.”
Brock looked over his shoulder, faltering in his hard strokes. “What?”
Dean searched down near Brock’s knees, fumbling in his pocket and withdrawing his keys. “See you in a bit.” He suspected Brock wouldn’t know how to handle a man on his own without an audience but he would have to deal with it. He was sure Lewis could take the lead if necessary. He hurried to the door and pulled it firmly shut behind him.
Racing around the side of the house, he headed down the drive, jumped in the car and roared away. Breaking the speed limit, he made it back to the dark house at the end of the cul de sac in a few minutes. He leapt out of the car, rushed around to the back of the property and arrived breathlessly at the door, trying to contain himself and relax.
Relaxing was impossible. He was too heated up, too excited. Dean tried the door, found it open of course. Seriously, did this guy want to be murdered in his bed? Dean needed to have a word about Janos’s security measures when he was clear-headed enough to chat, which wasn’t now.
He walked through the kitchen, not creeping, not wanting to scare the man to death or be attacked with a baseball bat as an intruder. All was dark and still. In the hallway, a furry shape coalesced from the gloom and wound around his legs and Dean almost shouted before he realised what it was and that Janos had been telling the truth about the feline who liked to walk about during the night. He stooped to pet the cat before he headed up the stairs.
Janos’s bedroom door was closed and Dean eased it open, trying to control his breathing. A dark shape lay motionless under the covers, curled in a foetal position. Dean took some lube from his pocket. Then he discarded his belt before he undressed quickly, his zipper sounding loud in the silence. He walked to the bed and drew back the covers, revealing Janos’s bare back, his cute little backside. He slid in behind him, reaching to run a hand over the sharp curve of his hip.
Janos gave a soft moan. He turned his head, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the dark. His skin was silken under Dean’s hand. “I knew you’d come back,” he said as their lips collided.
Dean panted, spiralling out of control at the hot, sweet taste of Janos’s pouty little mouth. He lifted Janos’s knee, spread him open, fumbled with the lube and rubbed a generous blob between his lover’s cheeks, feeling his way in the dark.
Janos gasped, squirmed and then Dean was inside him, unable to wait any longer, sheathing himself fully.
He fucked Janos while spooned against him, their damp skin stuck together, Janos craning his head back the whole while so he could kiss Dean, their mouths never parting.
Dean closed his hand around Janos’s cock, jerking smoothly in time with his thrusts. He felt the shudders racking his lover’s body, the imminent climax powering through him and he held on until they could release together.
Janos’s shaft pulsed in his hand. His ass closed in waves around Dean’s cock, milking him and he cried out at the same time as Janos, spurting the torrent that he had denied was still in his balls. Janos’s fluid splattered his fingers, filled his p
alm and Dean spread it over his cock, not stopping until Janos whimpered and pushed his hand away.
Dean rested his face against the back of Janos’s neck with a tired, satisfied smile, holding him tight with one arm. Janos murmured something in an undertone, craned back for another kiss and they exchanged tongues and breath lazily in the afterglow.
Dean’s radio crackled to life from somewhere on the floor, startling them both. “Dean? Where the fuck are you?”
Dean groaned, nuzzled Janos’s neck. “I have to go.”
He rolled away from Janos, sliding from the bed to pad across to the bathroom for a quick wash. Janos turned over, watched him through the doorway silently, gaze following Dean as he came back, dressed hurriedly in the dark.
Janos flicked on the bedside lamp as Dean buckled his belt, adjusted his holster. He detached his radio, spoke into it. “Coming back for you now,” he told Brock.
“I’m going to kick your ass, motherfucker,” Brock snarled.
“Whatever. Why don’t you get off one more time while you’re waiting?”
“I might just do that,” Brock said and signed off.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed to fasten his shoelaces. Behind him Janos trailed a hand down his back, making him shiver. “Come back and see me sometime,” he murmured.
Dean stood, looked at him a moment. “Count on it,” he said before bending and pressing a kiss to Janos’s upturned mouth.
He left the bedroom, taking the stairs and heading back out to his car, jingling his keys and smiling all the way.
THE END
Amber March is the saucier side of multi-published author Scarlet Blackwell.
Prefer dark romance with your spice? Check out Scarlet Blackwell here.
Rescue Me by Scarlet Blackwell
Synopsis:
After a near fatal car crash leaves him scarred both physically and emotionally, Matt Harmon finds the solitude of his huge, lonely house too much to bear. Hiring nurse James Hayden to look after him seems like the best idea for Matt, whose fierce independence has been compromised by his injuries. The two men clash from the start as James struggles to help Matt rebuild his shattered body and heal his crushed soul. The bond they form is forged in fire and ice, and the wounds they inflict on one another can only be erased by Matt's admission that he can't live without James's loving touch. Will Matt realize too late that James is the only one who can rescue him from himself?
Read the following excerpt from Rescue Me
"Have you eaten?"
"I ate with Severine in the kitchen."
"My friends are coming soon, so you don't have to be here all day."
"Okay. I'll sort your meds, help you with a wash and then I'll be off."
Matt turned his attention to his breakfast while James retreated to the corner and started to open packages and bottles. Matt glanced over, regarding his broad shoulders a moment. James wore a black Guns N' Roses T-shirt and tight jeans. The outfit really emphasised what great shape he was in. Matt grabbed the remote from under the pillow next to him and flicked the TV on to mask the silence, turning it to a rock music channel before he cleared his throat. After yesterday, he felt he had to make some effort.
"Ever see Guns N' Roses?" he asked.
"Yeah I saw them in '91 in San Francisco," James replied over his shoulder.
"Lucky bastard," Matt said. "I never saw them. What else do you like to do when you're not nursing crippled rich men?"
James turned around, his expression gently reproving. "I like fast cars."
Matt tensed all over. He turned his gaze to the window. "Yeah, I once liked them too."
James sighed. "I'm sorry."
Matt shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry for liking fast cars just because my inability to drive one properly almost got me killed. What car would you have if money were no object?"
"A Ferrari."
"Nice choice. Hardly practical for grocery shopping, though."
"No, but then I don't do a lot of grocery shopping."
"No? I guess your wife does all that then?" Matt kept his tone light but his gaze searched James' eyes and the answer became suddenly all important to him.
A smile crossed James' face. He turned back to the task of Matt's medication. "I don't have a wife. I shop online."
Matt realised he had been holding his breath. He breathed out with relief.
"You know, I've not asked you what you do for a living yet, Matt. It must be something good, judging by this house."
"I wouldn't say good. I've got an internet book business. I like it."
"And who's looking after it now?"
"My assistant manager Nick. He knows what he's doing."
"That must be a relief to you."
"Yeah." Matt drank some coffee and pushed his half-eaten cereal aside.
James came over with a syringe lying in a plastic tray. "Aren't you hungry?"
Matt shook his head. He lay looking out of the window. Spring was in full bloom outside, and the wind blew scatterings of cherry blossom bloom relentlessly against the glass. It was a sunny day, the bright sky filled with large clouds which held the promise of rain later.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
After a silence, James spoke again. "I can take you out if you want to go."
Matt glanced at him in surprise. "I can't even get to the john without help. What are you going to do, carry me over your shoulder?"
Their gazes held unwaveringly. "I'm stronger than I look."
"I'm sure," Matt muttered, turning back to the window.
The edge of the mattress dipped when James sat down on it, and a moment later a latex-covered hand touched Matt's, taking his wrist and bringing the hand out straight to lie on the covers. Matt didn't look. Fingers touched him again, curling around and beneath his palm, keeping his hand steady while James injected the drug into Matt's vein. Matt tensed at what he regarded as such an intimate touch. He didn't understand how it was so easy for his nurse to sit touching the hand of a perfect stranger this way. Just for a moment, he envied James and his easy-going manner, a man who was comfortable in his own skin and didn't have the same issues Matt did regarding touch. A man who was as attractive as Matt had once been.
James took his time giving the antibiotic. Slowly, Matt had the shameful but irresistible urge to close his own hand around James'. His fingers twitched in his nurse's grip. He wanted it. He wanted to touch another human being. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had.
He felt the syringe being twisted loose, another taking its place, the quick flush of saline into his vein and knew he had missed the opportunity.
James let go of his hand and stood up. Matt continued to look out of the window, his pulse running far too fast. He hoped and prayed James wouldn’t feel the need to take his observations at that moment, because he imagined his blood pressure would be sky high too.
"I spoke to your doctor this morning. I'm meeting with him this afternoon to review your plan of care."
"Whatever he says about me, he's a liar," Matt replied dryly.
"Is he going to tell me you're difficult and head-strong?"
"He might."
James laughed a little. "I already know that, so it wouldn't be news."
"I'm not as much of an asshole as you think I am," Matt muttered, unsure why he felt the need to defend himself.
"I know that. I know how people work, and I know why you're behaving the way you do. What's more, I understand."
Matt's gaze moved to his, his face heating a little. He shook his head. "No you don't. You couldn't possibly. You nurses, that's your standard phrase isn't it? You always say you understand, but if you haven't nearly died and you're not scarred for life, then you don't fucking understand, okay?"
James looked a little chastened. "Okay then, Matt," he said softly. "I don't understand. Forgive me." He turned away.
Matt looked after him, his
anger far from sated. He had been expecting a fight, a war of words, maybe some cathartic shouting of how he really did feel, which might have done him a world of good, and now James had surprisingly backed down. Confusion and frustration warred within him. He curled his good hand into a fist and closed his eyes, taking some deep breaths.
"Want to talk to me?" James asked quietly.
Matt kept his eyes closed. He shook his head, biting his lip hard. For one terrible moment he thought he was going to cry, but the impulse passed. "Can you help me to the bathroom now, please?" He took his left arm from its sling.
"Sure." James moved around to the opposite side of the bed, while Matt slid over. James took the remote and lowered the bed slightly, then gripped Matt's casted leg and helped to swing it over the edge.
As Matt lowered himself to the ground on his good leg, James stood way too close to him, almost pinning him back against the bed. Matt longed to tell the nurse to get out of his personal space.
James held the crutches while Matt slid his arms into them, skin rubbing against skin as he did so. The discomfort he felt again from this contact differed from what he'd experienced when being attended by the first female nurse. It wasn't like it made him hot like she had, far from it. But in equal measures he longed to both push James away and have further contact with him. His thoughts alarmed and perturbed him.
He looked up as he got his arms in his crutches ready to move, and his eyes met James'.
"Okay?" James asked softly, his eyes like tropical seas in the morning sunlight coming through the windows. Matt nodded. For a moment neither man moved, just kept their gaze fixed on the other.
