Private Dances Page 13

  Helping Dale out of the hot tub was a tricky thing, but they managed without a mishap, and he took Dale to his bed, drying them off before stretching out.

  Dale spent a good, long time stroking him, touching the curls on his head, on his belly, above his cock, dusted over his thighs. Gen curled into the touches like a cat. So many people had been there. So many people to watch them like hawks. It was good to be quiet and alone together and happy.

  Each fading bruise was touched, kissed, worried over. “I could’ve killed you.”

  Tilting Dale’s chin up, Gen met those worried eyes. “No. It was not your fault. And we’re fine.”

  “We are. I….” Dale bent, kissed his palm. “We are.”

  “Mmm.” His hand tingled, and his fingers curled. “I love you, caro. So much.”

  “Good, ’cause I’m sticking around.” One of his fingers was taken into that hot mouth, lips wrapping around as Dale sucked.

  “Mmm.” Oh, that sent shocks all the way down to his prick. Gen arched, asking for more with his whole body. He was starting to ache.

  Dale’s head bobbed, Dale sucking and nibbling, fellating his finger. His thumb ran up along Dale’s cheek while he watched and shook and moaned. He wanted to feel Dale everywhere. Dale groaned, fingers wrapping around his hips, tugging him up toward that mouth.

  “Caro! Oh, sì.” His body arched hard, his hips pumping up. That touch. Oh, yes, that perfect touch.

  “Yeah. Yeah, come on, darlin’. Need you. Now.” Those lips wrapped around his cock, hot as Dante’s inferno. Gen cried out, his belly tight as a board, his hands clenching into fists. His cock throbbed, needing more, needing everything. Dale’s hands squeezed, drew him in and in until Dale’s lips were wrapped around the base of his prick. Oh. Oh, his love. Dale watched every movement he made, sucking and swallowing, pulling him in deep.

  He met those bright eyes, begging for it, his mouth shaping words that even he didn’t understand. He stroked Dale’s cheeks, his throat, his fingers finally unclenching enough to give back.

  Every time he touched Dale’s throat, his lover swallowed, those muscles taut and moving.

  “Love. Per favore. More.” His balls drew up, his skin so tight he wanted to explode. Dale’s hands slid around his hips, fingers rubbing his hole, two pushing in, stretching him.

  “Sweet!” His eyes went wide, his hips bucking up, his thighs shaking. Oh, Dio, Dale. His Dale. Inside him. Dale groaned, pulling him in deep, throat gripping around the tip of his cock.

  Everything went white-hot, his brain shorting out, his body tight as a drum. God in heaven. The pressure on his cock was amazing. He came so hard that he bit his lip until it bled. Those lips and hands worked him, held him through each shudder, each aftershock, Dale loving him as no one ever had.

  “Ti amo, caro.” What else could he say? What else could he give? Just that.

  Dale kissed the tip of his cock, smiling. “Good. Love you, darlin’.”

  “Come here and kiss me.” He pulled at Dale’s arms, wanting to feel that weight of him, trying to remember to be careful of that poor leg. Dale shifted and rolled, lips wet with his seed as they kissed. That had him licking at that amazing mouth; his own taste flowed through him, making him moan. He slid his hands down Dale’s back, cupping the tight bottom, squeezing.

  Dale was beginning to fill again, swell for him, lips parted as they kissed.

  “Mmm.” How could he resist that? Gen reached down, grasping that hot flesh in his hand, pulling at it. “Again, hmm?”

  “Over and over.” Dale’s grin was flash quick, teeth nipping his lips. “As long as you’ll keep me.”

  “Always.” He pulled harder, letting his fingers roll open and closed. Yes. So hot for him. So tight and hard.

  “Want to go home with you….” Dale’s head rolled, lips parted.

  “Sì. Home to Amalfi, sì? It will be nice there now. Sunny and warm.” He kissed Dale’s throat, his chin, loving the salty taste of sweat.

  “Yeah. Yeah, darlin’. I…. Fuck, I’m ready to start my life, huh? Start a life with you.” Dale groaned, trying to arch under him.

  Gen moaned, helping Dale with his free hand, helping that amazing body rub up. He stroked, his thumb sliding along the underside of Dale’s cock. Such trust. Dale finally trusted him, them, to make a life. “Sì, amore. Soon.”

  “Soon…. Don’t stop. Please, I need.” Dale grunted, bucking under him, muscles tight as stone.

  “Not going to. Going to make you feel so good.” The skin of Dale’s shaft was so delicate, so sweet, and Gen took time to savor it with his fingers, alternating slow and fast. It took a few repetitions before Dale relaxed, melted back into the mattress and simply allowed him to touch, to drive that beautiful body to bliss. Gen touched all over, his one hand busy with Dale’s cock, his other caressing Dale’s ribs, over his chest. Each nipple got a hard pinch, even as he leaned to take another kiss.

  Dale moaned into his lips, holding his eyes, staring at him as heat poured over his fingers.

  He stared right back, holding Dale’s gaze, making promises he very much intended to keep.

  Epilogue

  AFTER A day of baking in the sun, then a long bath, Dale was ready to dance. The music was throbbing, he was freshly waxed, dressed in his chaps, his G-string cupping his cock, his balls. All he needed was his hat.

  Dale grabbed his hat and pulled it down low, strutting out into the dimly lit room where his audience waited for him. Wasn’t nothing like the last place he’d danced. No, sir, this was high-class, all marble floors and silk wallpaper and gold ceilings. Real pretty. Not as pretty as his audience of one, though. Yep, this was a private dance, and Gen waited for him wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe that was the same blue-green as his eyes.

  He smiled, cock starting to fill in a way it never had before when he danced, reacting to the man who watched him. Fuck, this was good. He let the music take him, no pressure, no stress, just riding and shaking it. His hand slid down his belly, fingers pushing at the G-string. Look, darlin’. I’m all bare for you.

  Gen stared at him, that gaze like a damned laser, hot and good and right. There was nothing like Gen watching him dance. Nothing at all.

  It was the most natural thing in the world, to start moving across the room, one step at a time. It was a far damned cry from Houston and dancing for tips, this life him and Gen had made.

  Italy was pretty strange sometimes, and he got to missing Texas once in a while, but Lord knew, the minute he mentioned it, Gen took him home for a week. The man could work anywhere. And with the family Gen had, they could go anywhere else too. But mostly they stayed right there on the Amalfi Coast, lying on the beach and loving on each other.

  Gen shifted for him, legs falling open, robe parting to show him strong, fuzzy thighs.

  Licking his lips, he sauntered over, flexed. “You looking for a lap dance, darlin’? You like what you see?”

  “Oh, sì. I love it.” Gen’s face lit up with a purely evil smile. “That is, if I can touch….”

  “Well, we’ll have to see what the house rules are, now.” He came close, leaned down until his face was centimeters away from Gen’s, nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. Their lips almost touched, him teasing and flirting like he never could have as a working man.

  “I think the house allows anything we want.” Gen leaned back, though, one hand sliding under that damned silk robe to wrap around Gen’s fat prick, the other hand reaching for a glass of ruby-red wine.

  Tease.

  “Mmm. Look at you….” He braced himself on the chair, straddling Gen’s thighs and grinding away.

  “I’d much rather look at you.” Gen held the glass up for him, offering a taste. That wine was something else, he’d discovered. It kicked like a mule.

  “You tryin’ to get me tipsy?” He took a sip, moaning at the way it was like liquid velvet, coating his tongue and heating him up, deep down.

  “No. Just warming us up some more.”
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  Yeah, like he needed that.

  He took another sip, then bent, offering his lips to Gen.

  Gen opened right up to him, lips on his, tongue reaching for the wine. They shared it, slow and sweet, just touching mouths together. Dale couldn’t have stopped the moan as their mouths parted if he’d tried, and God knew he didn’t have enough sense to try.

  “Mmm. Better on your lips, caro. Now dance.” Gen touched his hip then, pushing him back into motion. Demanding man.

  He backed away, remembering that first night he’d danced, avoiding one touch while doing his damnedest to attract another. Addictive fucking man.

  Now he didn’t have to avoid. He had to smile and nod, and Gen was coming up off the chair, robe falling to the floor. This time, Gen could dance with him. Gen’s hands ran down the leather of his chaps, sliding around to cup his ass and squeeze. Goddamn, that felt good. So good. Even better when Gen traced the little strap on his G-string around to the front and cupped his cock nice and hard, squeezing there too.

  He arched, body reaching for that hand, thighs going taut.

  “Mmm. Someone liked that. Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” The words were low, almost slurred, Gen’s accent blurring them into something hot enough to shoot sparks against his skin.

  “Just a cowboy.” An incredibly lucky cowboy.

  “My cowboy.” That grin was… decadent. Fond. Edible. Gen kissed him then, strong and hard, hands pulling him close, one on his ass, the other still on his cock.

  The music got lost in the pounding of the blood in his ears, Dale rocking now, riding that touch for all he was worth. Gen moved even closer, like the man was trying to crawl into his skin, like it was necessary. That hot skin rubbed his all over, the hair on Gen’s chest scraping his nipples.

  “Love.” He sank his fingers into those dark curls, tilting Gen for another deep kiss.

  “Yours,” Gen agreed, murmuring it against his lips. They moved in a slow circle, grooving on each other like he never had with Keno. Who Gen still snarled about occasionally.

  “Mine.” He rolled his hips, doing a little booty popping, just for Gen.

  Gen laughed, the sound hot and husky, and that cock rubbed him, getting his G-string wet. “I love the way you dance, caro.”

  “You did from the start, calling me up to the rooms.” He grabbed Gen’s hand, drew it up his belly.

  “I did.” That hand wandered up his chest, Gen’s fingers pulling at his nipples. “I wanted you immediately.”

  “I didn’t make you wait too long.” Gen must have thought he was such a slut at first, coming home with a perfect stranger. It worked out, though. Hell yes, it did.

  “I was glad. I was already more than half in love.” Bending, Gen bit his shoulder, licking the spot after, heightening the sting.

  “Good.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the bite or the love.

  “Mmm-hmm. Come and sit with me.” Instead of the chair, Gen took him to the decadent couch with the lounging end thing, sitting back and pulling him down.

  He covered Gen, humming at the heat, at the feel of their skin together. “Going to let me ride you?”

  “Oh, sì.” Those eyes glowed blue and green for him, hot as a two-dollar pistol. Gen arched under him, begging for it, cock hard as nails.

  Dale smiled, sliding the string away so he could ease Gen’s cock over his hole, let it sink inside where he’d slicked and stretched, readied himself for his lover.

  Gen’s eyes flew open wide, that mouth forming an O. “Dio! Caro…. Dale.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, darlin’. Fuck me.” He pushed back and back, taking Gen in to the root.

  Gen pushed up, face and chest flushed deep red, hands pulling at Dale’s ass. God, it felt good to take Gen in, to hold him there.

  “Love.” He braced himself on the arm of the sofa, squeezing Gen tight before he started to ride. Grunting, Gen pulled at him, bit at his chest, going wild under him. That sweet cock pushed at him, rubbing in and out.

  The music swirled all around them, giving them a rhythm, a beat that got faster and faster. Their hearts pounded, their skin slapped together, and Gen moaned for him like the happiest dying man ever.

  “Love you. Come on. Come on, darlin’. Gimme.” He was ready for Gen to fill him up, fill him deep.

  “Sì. Amore.” Gen gave it right up for him, so good and hot that he cried out with it. Gen filled him so completely. So damned perfect.

  “Love….” It didn’t take him long, a couple of bounces and one good tug on his cock and he shot, covered that dark belly with his come.

  “Mmm.” That was a satisfied sound. Pure happiness. Gen held him close, both of them panting, both of them floppy.

  “Oh, darlin’. Damn.” He nuzzled right in, breathing Gen in.

  “You dance very well indeed, caro.” Gen’s hand slid up and down his leg, as if searching for his scars. “I’m so glad you are able to, hmm?”

  “Yeah, darlin’. Glad I can and that I don’t have to.” No, he had his place here, managing the family stables, building the lines there.

  A soft chuckle answered that. “You only dance for me now, caro. Private dances, sì?”

  “You know it, darlin’. I got myself whisked away.” He stroked one hand down Gen’s side, loving as best he could. “Thank God for favors large and small.”

  Gen only nodded and kissed him, and Dale figured he ought to be grateful for that dancing job that had gotten him through school and brought him Gen.

  He’d dance for that man anytime.

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  BA TORTUGA, Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.