"Or worse. It's a shame, the way things go down in businesses sometimes. The pre-mixed paste isn't regulated, you know? All kinds of weird chemicals end up in there."
"Jesus.” Jacob Lee's heart sped up a notch. “You never said. What do they put in there?"
"Depends. Might just be food coloring, or in worst cases it's silver nitrate to make the stain turn black. You could get a nasty rash, or it might just burn you."
Jacob Lee pointed backward. “I ever see another tube of that enter this house and I'll beat your ass with a belt."
"Ooh. Promise?” Donathan's question held all the salacious stopping power of a bump and grind.
"Mind your manners, young man. I'm serious."
"My hand to God,” Donathan said, acting out his promise. “I'll mix my own now and forever. Pakistani henna powder, tea tree oil, lemon juice and patience. Now, lighten up, hon. Serious is fine when serious is called for, but you've got to admit that it's not half as much fun as misbehaving."
Jacob Lee had to admit that was true. “Then how about you come over here and act up with me?” he asked, throwing back tease for tease, not caring that his was somewhat less than subtle. “You don't need much time to rest up, as I know very well."
"You know way too much about me in way too many respects,” Donathan grumbled, pretending to be irked. Warm, solid, paint-daubed arms wrapped around Jacob Lee's waist, Donathan's lips landing soft and ticklish between his bare shoulder blades. “Good thing I've decided to keep you."
"Just you try to get rid of me.” Jacob Lee bumped backwards, snugging his ass into Donathan's groin. Oh now, looked like someone wasn't half as worn out as he'd claimed, didn't it? He did feel hot, though, in more than the usual way, sun radiating off his skin, the smell of long hours in the bright light rich and musky in Jacob Lee's nose. He'd have to hog-tie the man down and rub in some aloe later. Not like he'd complain.
"So how can I help?” Donathan licked a stripe up Jacob Lee's neck, humming contentedly when Jacob Lee shivered from pleasure. “I could drop the soap."
Jacob Lee hooted. “Lord, you nut. Here.” He reluctantly freed himself from Donathan and plucked a sponge from his bucket of soapy water. “You start on the hood. I'll work my way up from the tailgate and we'll meet in the middle."
"Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Donathan sighed, melodramatic as a Shakespearean actor. He kissed Jacob Lee on the forehead, then took the sponge and sashayed away, shaking his sexy ass. Baby had some delicious back going on.
Jacob Lee had seen this many times before, so it must have been the devil on his shoulder that made him wait until Donathan reached the hood of the truck, then he raised his hose, pointed the nozzle at Donathan, and let the water fly full blast. The hefty jet hit Donathan square in the face.
"You asshole!” Donathan howled, laughing, shaking his head like a shaggy dog. “You're going down for that."
"Bring it, soggy boy.” Jacob Lee lowered the hose so that the water played over Donathan's chest. “What are you gonna do to me, hmm?"
"Tear you to ribbons, for a start.” Donathan's brilliant grin belied his threats. He pushed wet hair out of his face. Lord, he was pretty when he was happy. Made Jacob Lee's heart, and other parts of his anatomy, swell in appreciation. Even more so when he trailed the stream of water down Donathan's stomach and over his legs. The thin, pale blue board shorts his lover had chosen to wear turned almost translucent, thin enough to outline a sturdy, promising hard-on.
Jacob Lee whistled, approving.
"If you ask me if I've got a paintbrush in my pants or if I'm happy to see you...” Donathan threatened.
"Never crossed my mind.” Jacob Lee flicked the water in a quick up-and-down over Donathan's shoulders. “Pay me back already, would you?"
"Oh, I will.” Heedless of the cold water Jacob Lee had yet to release him from, Donathan slinked back toward him. He tossed his soapy sponge on the hood of the truck and canted his hips, thumbs tucked in the waist of his shorts. “See this? See me?"
Hell yes, he did. Jacob Lee licked his lips. “Already told you,” he husked, horny as a buck in musk. “Bring it. I can take you."
Donathan placed a finger over his lips. “Where's the punishment in that?” He waited a beat before winking at Jacob Lee. “No, I think the way to pay you back is just to walk away..."
Donathan made it maybe three steps before Jacob Lee had dropped the hose and lunged after his lover. He tackled Donathan and threw him backward into the truck's grill, crowding up close and personal before Donathan could know what was going on. “Got you,” he breathed. “This is two for me."
"Then I suppose I'll have to think of something better for later,” Donathan breathed. Little faker; he was as hungry for this as Jacob Lee. “What are you going to do with me?"
"Every damn thing I can think of, starting with this.” Jacob Lee manhandled Donathan about, pushing him face-forward. Donathan braced his arms on the hood and spread his feet, distributing his weight and pushing his ass back so shamelessly that Jacob Lee had never been quite so proud.
He popped Donathan's ass purely for the delight of hearing him squeak, and then those shorts had to go. They proved slightly difficult to remove, sticking to Donathan's skin in the way of wet cotton, but the rewarding sight of what lay beneath more than made up for any other inconvenience.
"My God, you are the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.” Jacob Lee went to his knees, heedless of the rough gravel beneath and uncaring of any neighbors that might be around to see them. Not like they hadn't seen this and more before. As for the gravel, well, he'd gotten down and dirty on worse, for less worthy reasons than worshipping Donathan's sweet ass.
He cupped the cheeks in the palms of his hands, massaging the strong glutes, and bent forward to kiss them in turn. He nipped at one, loving the way Donathan strangled out a curse. Biter liked being bitten, he did.
Donathan liked what Jacob Lee did next even more. He didn't give Donathan any warning, simply parting the man's cheeks wide and plunging his face between them. Donathan's shriek was music to his ears, as was the rapid gasping and chanting his name that followed fast after. Jacob Lee gave him no quarter, licking fast, nasty stripes and thrusting his tongue deep. He pushed one finger in while his lips worked wicked magic, then two, scissoring him good and open.
Bless him, Donathan never struggled once, only tipping his head back and moaning, begging for more, if anything. When his curses reduced down to “Fuck, fuck, fuck; Jacob Lee, come on. Fuck ... ” Jacob Lee knew he'd accomplished his goal.
Jacob Lee stood a little shakily, his knees none too steady. “Call this an early birthday present,” he whispered in Donathan's ear. He fumbled his jeans open and pushed them down, hissing in pleasure as his aching cock finally came free of the confining denim. “Ready for me?"
"You kidding?” Donathan gasped. “Please, Jacob Lee, please."
He never could and never wanted to tell Donathan no, especially not when he begged so sweetly for a fucking. Jacob Lee sank his teeth into Donathan's shoulder, lined his cock up with Donathan's ready ass, and slid home sweet as one could ever hope for. He groaned at the hot snugness surrounding him.
Lord, he hoped Donathan didn't have his heart set on a long, slow screw, because Jacob Lee didn't think he had it in him to play Marathon Man right then. He made it last as long and as sweet as he could, his awareness of the world slipping into a collection of sensual impressions—Donathan's wet skin sliding warm and slippery under his hands, skating everywhere he could reach, the urgent, needy grunts Donathan uttered when Jacob Lee plowed into him, his own hungry growls as he hammered home, searing constriction blissfully squeezing his dick, the smell of soap and sweaty outdoor-heated skin, and the taste of the sweat on Donathan's skin.
He came to himself in time to comprehend Donathan's desperate babbling and reached in front of them to wrap his slick fist around his lover's rigid cock. He got in two good, hard jerks before Donathan howled from deep in his gut and hot stickine
ss flooded over his fingers. His lover's internal muscles spasmed, squeezing him tight and hard enough to bring him over moments later.
Jacob Lee held Donathan by the waist, breathing in huge, lusty gulps. Beneath him, Donathan shivered and groaned, looking as bonelessly fucked-out as Jacob Lee personally felt.
"That,” Donathan said after a moment of recovery, twisting around to smile sleepily at Jacob Lee, “was one of the best birthday gifts I've ever gotten, early or not."
Jacob Lee kissed him, tasting the sweet fullness of Donathan's lips, savoring his hidden secrets. “It'll only get better from here, darlin'. You'll not forget this birthday for the rest of your life.” He winked. “Like they say, you ain't seen nothing yet."
He swallowed Donathan's eager moan with another kiss, and was content.
Chapter Seven
"Tell me about this one.” Jacob Lee lazily traced over the storm cloud on Donathan's left hip, dark gray and purple thunderheads shooting electric white-gold splinters of lightning. Truth be told, he'd heard all the stories a dozen times or more. He still never tired of listening to Donathan tell them again, loving how he'd slip into a warm, cozy doze while Donathan talked his way through the lullaby.
Donathan, who knew what Jacob Lee was up to, chuckled and combed through Jacob Lee's hair. “All right. You see up there?” He pointed to the sky above them, clear as a crystal lake, blue as midnight velvet, smooth as cream save for where glimmering diamond-bright stars glittered at them. “See how perfect? Let me tell you, the night when I decided to get this tattoo was as un-perfect as they can possibly be."
Jacob Lee hummed contentedly and settled down, his head on Donathan's chest and his ear pressed over Donathan's heart. They lay together in the small patch of grassy lawn behind the shotgun house, barely big enough for two grown men to stretch out in comfort and even then they lay contrariwise between an overgrown holly bush and their neighbor's attempts at an herb garden. Didn't matter. He thought he couldn't have been happier.
"Keep going,” he prodded when Donathan seemed to have fallen silent.
Donathan played with Jacob Lee's hair, winding strands around his finger. “Gonna give you some pretty curls,” he teased gently. “Send you to the site tomorrow looking like Shirley Temple."
"I'll spank you if you so much as think about it."
"Really? Then I'll just have to sneak some orange juice cans in bed overnight and do your hair up proper."
Jacob Lee poked his lover in the ribs, deliberately hitting a ticklish spot. “Lord save us from random acts of hair crime.” No one could call him overly fussy about his crop, but curls? No thank you. “I think I told you to keep going."
"I love it when you're bossy.” Donathan lightly tweaked his ear. “The storm cloud tattoo. A bad night that was. Twenty-six years old that day, and as a present to myself I'd finally bought the car I'd had my eyes on for months. Saved every penny I could, and you know that's not easy for me."
Jacob Lee snorted quietly. Donathan never met a red cent he couldn't fritter away. Jacob Lee wouldn't stop him, not when the paints and pastels Donathan bought gave him so much pleasure. And he never let on, not as such, but Jacob Lee knew Donathan bought more than a few cups of coffee for the park homeless.
No, he wouldn't change a thing about his man.
So why did he keep coming back to Bethannie's off-hand mention of Donathan's apprenticing as a tattoo artist? Didn't make any kind of sense.
He jerked himself back to the story, catching up mid-sentence. “—took her out for a joy ride as soon as the keys were in my hot little hands. Lord, what a mistake. See, I hadn't driven for oh, two or three years, and I'd forgotten lots of important things like checking to see if I had gas in the tank or oil in the whatever oil goes into."
"You do all right on the ten-speed and your own two feet. Driving's not for everyone."
Witness ninety-year-old blue-haired ladies who frightened the ever-loving bejeezus out of him when he saw one coming in a huge boat of a car, barely able to see over the steering wheel. Witness drunks he saw zipping around on their mopeds and witness also tiny folks all alone driving monster SUVs that dwarfed his working man's truck.
Donathan made a noncommittal noise of agreement. “I figured that one out pretty fast. Back then, though, I thought I was king of the world in my third-hand plum-purple Beetle. It had lightning strikes painted on the sides, an amateur job, sweet all the same. Now, here's the thing. You know I'm tone deaf."
Lord, was he ever. Donathan had an inordinate fondness for belting out the latest hits while in the shower, and he could crumble the tiles. Jacob Lee figured he had no room to talk, as his own voice sounded like someone was trying to strangle a cat. He'd joined in on a bloodcurdling duet more than once.
"I didn't realize the ‘music’ I thought was the engine ‘purring’ was more like dying gasps.” Donathan tweaked a single strand of Jacob Lee's hair, giggling when Jacob Lee grumped and swatted up at his hand and missed. “So there I am on the side of this long and winding country dirt road, round about a million miles from nowhere, or so I thought. Real rural place. No street lamps, no road signs, just a couple of farm houses on either side of the road, no lights on in their windows. I didn't have a cell phone and I didn't have any bit of an idea about what to do. Thought I'd have to curl up in the back seat of the Beetle and breathe in the stink of burned rubber until morning's first light."
Jacob Lee nipped the soft, bare skin over Donathan's nipple, well pleased at his lover's small shiver. “You didn't have to, though, did you?” he pressed.
"No sir, I did not. As I stood there on the sloping shoulder of the dirt road, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a beat-up old red truck, Toby Keith playing loud out the open windows—"
"Rascal Flatts,” Jacob Lee interrupted.
Donathan accepted his correction. “Rascal Flatts, then. I stepped back, thinking the driver would never see me, no way. But he did, and he stopped by the smoking wreck of my poor little dead Beetle, rolled down his window, and grinned at me. He said, ‘Looks like you could use a hand.'” Donathan slid his hand down to thumb at Jacob Lee's jaw. “I'll never forget him."
Jacob Lee sighed with pleasure. He loved the light, easy brush of Donathan's fingers when he was in a quiet, loving mood. “So tell me about him."
"I think you know the man in question.” All the same, Donathan indulged him. “He struck me dumb from the moment I laid eyes on him. Big man, the kind I always dreamed about, solid and wide in the shoulders, strong in the arms. I knew right away that whoever he was, he worked hard for his living. I wanted to draw his hands, big square-knuckled mitts, one curled around the steering wheel and one on the open passenger window of his truck. Hands like his, they made me think of how they'd feel stroking down my bare skin. Made me ache to have those long, roughed-up fingers squeezing my cock. Lord, I got hard in a heartbeat and almost died from the shame, knowing he'd think I was some kind of backwoods hooker."
Jacob Lee snorted, tickled as ever. “I doubt he thought any such thing."
"I know that now. Back then, I was terrified. Odd, though, how it didn't occur to me for a second to be afraid of him."
"You've got good taste,” Jacob Lee said smugly. “What happened next?” He did love this sort of playing, all fucked out and drowsy enough to lie close to his Donathan in the great outdoors. “You can't stop now. The good part's coming up."
"A good story is told through to the end,” Donathan agreed around a huge yawn. “I looked at the man from head to toe, and finished on his smile. A broad, friendly grin that went all the way up to his eyes, telling me that whoever he was, he was for real and I could trust him. He said to me, charming with his voice as much as with his body, ‘Come on. I'll give you a ride back into town. It's on my way.'” Donathan sighed happily. “And do you know what? I fell in love with him before we were halfway through the drive."
Jacob Lee tightened his arm over Donathan's chest. “He did the same, you know."
; "I do, which is why I figured I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, and when he pulled up to a stoplight, I just slid on over the seat and kissed him square on the lips. Shocked him half to death, I think. For a moment. Then he kissed me back.” Donathan's chest shook with amusement. “We lingered at that light for almost an hour, and that truck was rocking forty-five minutes out of the sixty. He loved me so hard and so tender at the same time, let me pick the pace, romanced me like a starry-eyed virgin and then fucked me rough as a bull rider.” He rippled with the pleasure of the memory. “He took me home with him. I wouldn't go back to my lonely, tiny squat above the music store. And you know what? I'm with him still."
Jacob Lee nuzzled Donathan's chest. “I do love your stories. You didn't finish it all, though. Why lightning bolts and thunder clouds to mark the occasion?"
Donathan massaged Jacob Lee's cheek with his thumb. “I love storms, especially ones that roll in out of the blue. They might be dangerous and they might be scary, sure; I adore them all the same, for once I see past the threat, I see the beauty of the sky colors and the sight of lightning sparks take my breath away. Out of the darkness there comes light. That's what it was like for me, on the heels of the mess with my car, catapulting straight into that red truck and that man's life. The storm rolled past, and the rest of the way was clear blue skies.” He tweaked Jacob Lee's earlobe. “Mostly. I won't say there hasn't been the occasional squall, but all in all they don't color the rest.” He chortled. “I am a sap, aren't I?"
"My sap,” Jacob Lee growled. He lightly bit Donathan's nipple and worried it briefly between his teeth, loving the way Donathan gasped and arched his back to ask for more. “Nothing wrong with bein’ a romantic. Wouldn't love you half so much if you weren't. I like dreamers of dreams and if I'd wanted a man with no imagination, I'd have plenty to choose from.” He patted Donathan's storm cloud tattoo. “This is a beauty."
"Thank you, love.” Donathan drew a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest an easy wave Jacob Lee adored riding. “Any others you want to hear the stories for?"
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