Rain and Whiskey Read online

  “Yeah. I think so.” The dishes could wait. Wasn’t like he didn’t have a dishwasher he could throw them in later. Galen stood, holding out a hand to pull Shane up. “Think I’d rather haul your ass back to bed.”

  That bare chest slapped up against his, those blue eyes flashing, hot, daring. “You’re sure you’re gonna be doing the hauling?”

  Damn. Oh, hot damn, he loved a challenge like that. Made his cock do more than twitch. Made it rise, hard and heavy. Galen bent, pressed his tongue to a bright bruise on Shane’s shoulder. “I’m thinking, yeah.”

  He caught the low moan before one hand slid into his sweats, fingers wrapping tight around his cock, squeezing. Spreading his stance, Galen let Shane explore, let his prick push right into that touch as he sucked and bit, making even more blood rise to the surface of Shane’s fine, tanned skin. It was a compulsion, marking that skin. His own hands found that amazing little ass and squeezed. Oh, sweet Jesus the things he could do to that ass. He wondered how hard Shane would fight him on some of them.

  He could feel the short breaths on his chest, thumb working him, hard and sure, pushing him, driving him. He almost laughed out loud. God, the rush was good. As good as hitting the quarterback right before the pass went off. But if he let the kid get the upper hand now, he might not get it back, so Galen pulled away, grabbing Shane’s arm and yanking him toward the bedroom, intent on getting naked and fucking hard and sure.

  Just a little off-balance, Shane stayed with him, skin hot as a firecracker against his arm, his hip. One hand slid over his ass, pinching, grabbing a handful.

  Yeah. The sharp feel of that touch made him jump, made him growl. This one was hot, and the rain outside made the best kinda music as Galen got them inside the bedroom and turned to take another kiss, teeth grinding against lips, his hips pushing so his cock was against that ridged belly.

  Coffee and heat and need and a hint of bright metal as his tongue dragged over the split in that bruised lip—damn, that was enough to set a dead man to needing.

  Fuck yes. Galen caught sight of them in the big mirror opposite the bed, the one his momma had said would open up the dark, masculine room. That gave him a bright idea. He pushed Shane away enough to get to those jeans, struggling to get them open, they were so tight, but finally getting them down and off before nodding toward the bed. “Hands and knees, and facing the foot of the bed, man.”

  “You gonna make it worth my while?” The words were cocky, but the sight of that ass crawling on the bed, muscled thighs spreading? Fine.

  “Trust me.” Hell, yes. That was perfect. Galen slid his sweatpants right off and moved off to one side of the bed, reaching out to tilt Shane’s chin up so he could see himself in the mirror. “This is gonna be good.”

  “Oh.” Those eyes went wide, flush trailing down the muscled back. “Fuck, missed that last night. Must’ve been distracted….”

  “You were facing the other way, riding me like a mechanical bull.” His fingers trailed over the most prominent bruise as he moved up on the bed behind Shane, pressing against it lightly. His cock rubbed that sweet ass, making him groan. “Damn.”

  “Went the whole go-round, though.” Shane’s head ducked, ass sliding over his prick again and again, teasing him.

  “No. Watch.” He wasn’t gonna let the kid run the show, as much fun as that would be. He wanted too damned much for that. Wrapping an arm around Shane’s middle, Galen pulled him up so he was more sitting up on his knees, gravity pushing his cock so it slid between those tight cheeks.

  “Fuck.” So pretty, those marks trailing up over the strong chest, the way Shane’s heavy cock pushed out from under thick curls—wanton, obscene, hot as hell.

  “Yeah. God, you look good like this.” He watched his own hand trail down over Shane’s belly to that flushed, bobbing cock and wrap around, squeezing and pulling.

  The low groans started up, the sound vibrating against his chest, those hands reaching back for him. From the tipped-back head to the long line of neck to the muscular chest and belly, Shane was nothing but gorgeous. Galen felt greedy. Reckless. Fucking overheated. He stroked and petted, humping Shane’s ass and figuring he’d better get a rubber soon or it would be over.

  Shane turned his head, lips fastening on the underside of his jaw, teeth just scraping.

  “You’re asking for it. Stay right there.” Galen grabbed one of Shane’s hands and put it in place of his own on Shane’s cock so he could turn and get the condom and lube. “Touch yourself for me.”

  “You like watching?” That hand started moving, slow, pulling hard, the kid’s entire body into it. It was like watching someone riding, someone dancing.

  “I like it all, babe.” He liked that for sure, liked how Shane was so right there, not an ounce of self-consciousness in it, like he knew how fucking hot he was. Another kinda challenge, and one he’d take happily.

  “Mmm….” Those thighs got tight, Shane’s hand moving a little faster, eyes dropping closed as things sped up.

  Grinning at himself in the mirror, Galen slid forward again and reached around, pressing hard at the base of Shane’s cock. “Not yet. Not until I’m ready too.”

  A man could get addicted to that low groan, the jerk of that sweet body, the look of parted, hungry lips. Shit.

  “You’re something else.” Reassured that Shane wasn’t gonna pop without him, Galen got his fingers wet and pressed against Shane’s hole, sliding them right in. God, that was hot. Tight. Still open from their games the night before, but tight. Didn’t take him long to get the rubber on, and then he was pushing in, groaning as Shane leaned back down on him and gravity took over.

  “Oh, sweet fuck….” He could feel Shane rippling around him, body working on his cock, ass cradled in the basket of his hips.

  “Yeah.” And being able to see it all…. “Look at you. Just hot as anything.”

  Galen started moving, hips rolling in short, sharp jabs, the hand that wasn’t holding Shane up rubbing over that tight chest, those little nipples, pinching hard. Every pinch made that pretty prick throb, made that sweet little ass clench and jerk around him. He just lost it, driving in and out, over and over, fingers scraping down to wrap around Shane’s cock again, pulling. The back of Shane’s neck had no marks, and Galen thought that was a damned shame, so he bit down hard, tasting salt.

  “Fuck!” Oh, shit, Shane bore down, clenched around him like a fist, come pouring over his fingers.

  Two, maybe three more hard thrusts were all it took for Galen to curse too, and for his own heat to let go, spilling out hard and fast, making him grunt. Holy fuck.

  Shane went still and heavy in his arms, panting hard, the touch of their skin burning hot. He shifted, and they sorta toppled over, Galen turning Shane a bit so he could take a kiss, deep and wet and lazy.

  Shane moaned, eyelashes long and gold-tipped, leaving heavy shadows as their tongues slid together. Mmm. Damn. The kiss went on for a good long while, nothing urgent, just good, letting them find their rhythm. He was gonna have to be careful. He was already getting way too used to this.

  They settled into the sheets, Shane’s hands warm, moving over his skin.

  Galen chuckled. “That was a pretty good breakfast show, huh?”

  “Not bad at all.” Those too-pretty eyes danced up. “What’s on the menu for lunch?”

  He laughed out loud, smacking that fine ass lightly. “Trust me. I do a great lunch buffet.”

  SWEET FUCK and honey, he wasn’t ever gonna walk straight again.

  Ever.

  Not to mention the bruise on his nipple was fucking black and his balls ached from coming and being squeezed and tugged and….

  His thighs spread, cock filling again at the memory of those chocolate-dipped eyes wanting, teeth on his skin, that voice.

  Fuck.

  That voice.

  He stumbled in to work, wincing from the sun and the scent and the fact he wasn’t in bed, working out a way to get at that man again.

&nb
sp; “Damn, son. You get mauled by a bear?” Miss Lynn, old pervy broad, looked him up and down, rheumy eyes shining.

  “No, ma’am.” He grinned, hung up his hat. “A cowboy.”

  Chapter Two

  THE SUN was beating down, pounding…. Mmm…. Pounding….

  Shane stretched a little, grinning. Yeah, buddy. The action last weekend was enough to keep him in memories for a few thousand sessions with Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters. Shit. That Galen? Had the whole fucking package—eyes to ass, with a sure touch and a hungry mouth.

  Voice too.

  Shit.

  They’d parted ways well enough. He hadn’t let the guy in because, the smell, damn. He really needed to call the landlady. Still, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him any of the nights he’d worked. It was sorta sucky, because the man was fine and hot, but obviously not in the beach-bum universe.

  The man had fucking chairs. Pans and shit.

  Still, it was gonna take a month or two before thinking pounding didn’t bring up the official Shane Barton Mental Porn Show, featuring a certain good ole boy.

  He chuckled at himself, slid out of the Jeep, and headed into the beer store, whistling low and tuneless, hot wind teasing the holes in his jeans.

  The little bell over the door tinkled and Old Man Curtis looked up from where he was talking to someone over the counter, nodding at him. And damned if the long-legged feller Old Man Curtis was talking to wasn’t Mr. Galen Frost, who also looked up and nodded, a slow, hot smile coming his way.

  “Howdy.” He offered over a smile of his own, letting the man know he was in the pasture and willing before heading back for Coronas and limes.

  Wasn’t two shakes before Galen was trailing up behind him, standing close enough he could feel the man. “Hey. How’s it going?”

  He let his arm brush back, eyes closing for half a second. “Been working, slinging suds. Enjoying the sunshine. You?”

  “Been sweating over the shed in the back and filling in where the deck was rotting.” One hand slid right over his ass and down between to tease his balls, bold as brass. “You ought to come on out and help me christen it with a cookout.”

  His thighs spread like butter, and God help him if he wanted to pretend not to be a pure-D slut, because damn. “I’m off ’til Tuesday. When’re you thinking of doing it?”

  “Got all the time in the world. You got plans tonight?” Oh, fuck that voice was like burnt molasses, smoky and deep and sharp-sweet. And Galen’s fingers were still teasing him, hidden from Old Man Curtis by Galen’s solid body.

  “I sure as shit hope so, man.” No business playing hard to get. Hell, he’d return the favor if his hands weren’t full of beer and limes.

  He got a deep chuckle and a pat on the ass. “Plan on it. Come on; let’s get your stuff and some tequila for the chicken. And a bottle of Jack.” Galen moved away, laughing and telling Old Man Curtis how it would be nice to feed someone besides the cooters.

  He put his beers on the counter, found a ten-spot. “You want me to put in for the booze, man?”

  “Nah. I’d buy it anyway.” They got settled up and hustled out, those rheumy blue eyes of the biggest gossip outside of Miss Lynn down at the bar watching them.

  He slipped his sunglasses on, face lifted toward the sun. “Mmm… feels good out here.”

  “It does. Rain finally stopped.” That cowboy hat got put on Galen’s head and pulled low. “You following?”

  He nodded. “Right behind you.” He turned his gimme cap around so the glare didn’t get him and hopped in his Jeep, then wiggled the key in the ignition until he got a connection. Skynyrd was on the radio, and he turned it up loud, bouncing in his seat as he drove.

  It was a fine damned day, sunny and hot, but the humidity was down, and the road out to the old bait shop was just curvy enough through the swamps that he found himself chasing that big pickup with a bit of adrenaline running through him. Galen flat drove like a bat out of hell.

  He took one corner sharp, hooting as the Jeep shuddered a minute, threatening to roll but held her center. “Fuck, yeah!”

  Galen threw gravel at him as he pulled into the drive behind, and they both hit the brakes hard. Galen hopped out with the liquor store bag, grinning at him. “Damn, that’s a nice drive.”

  “Yeah, buddy!” He grabbed his beers, using his keys to pop the top on one, offering it over to Galen.

  It foamed a bit, but Galen took it right up, chugging maybe a third of it down and nodding. “Now that hits the spot. Come on in. You feeling like tequila-lime chicken or beer bratwurst?”

  “I’m easy. What’s your druthers?” Like he cared with that fine view heading toward the house.

  “Well, I have the chicken thawed, so we might as well have that. And I can make a mean guacamole.” They got inside, right into that red-and-chrome kitchen that he remembered from before, and Galen set everything down before turning and taking his beers and setting them aside so the man could pull him right up for a hard, deliberate kiss.

  Oh, yeah. That’s what he was needing. He pushed right against that heat, rubbing hard.

  Wasting no time at all, Galen started working on his shirt. Getting it open and sliding it off, Galen ran those big hands over his arms and shoulders before going right to his nipples and twisting. Fucking hell. That sent jolts straight to his cock, sharp and hot. He nipped Galen’s lip, hard enough to get a response, to get a growl.

  It was like pulling a tiger’s tail. Galen turned, lifted, and he was up against the counter, half on it, with Galen bending to suck his abused nipple, pulling hard enough to draw the blood up under the skin. Those hands dropped to his knees and spread him so wide his thighs twinged, Galen stepping between them and rubbing.

  He wrapped his legs around that fine fucking form, heels digging in, forcing them harder together, hands burying in the short hair. That just made Galen bite harder, move faster, one hand pushing between them to open his zipper and search for his cock, then wrapped around it and squeezed.

  “Shit….” His head slammed back against the cabinet, teeth snapping on his bottom lip, balls drawing up tighter than a boar’s backside.

  “Yeah. Fuck, you’re hot. I want to taste you so bad.” Those dark eyes caught his, looking right into him as that hand pulled and stroked.

  “Shit. Galen.” He shuddered, thighs going tight, need riding him high and hard. “Never fucking felt anything like this. Never. Don’t fucking stop.”

  “Not gonna. Trust me.” There was no stopping it, the rush. Damn. Galen bit down on his collarbone, hand a blur down there as it worked him. “Come on. Come on.”

  He bucked up, humping, barking out a desperate cry as he shot, spunk spraying.

  “Oh, fuck yeah.” Galen actually bent down, mouth open, but stopped just short of licking him clean. “Damn, that’s not fair.”

  “Yeah. Yeah….” Fucking diseases. Fucking hell. He rippled, panting. “Hot fucking mouth….”

  “Next time I’ll manage to make it to the fucking bedroom and get a rubber.” Galen grinned at him, color high in his cheeks, and leaned back to open his own jeans and pull out that thick cock, legs braced wide. “My turn.”

  “Oh, fuck yeah.” He licked his lips, hands wrapping around and rubbing hard, thumbs working the tip.

  “Yeah. Right there.” Galen moved his hand, then wrapped it around Shane’s and moved them faster, holding tighter. “It’s okay. I like it good and hard.”

  “Hot son of a bitch.” He growled, leaned forward, biting at those lips, hands jerking, tugging. “Gonna fucking keep you.”

  “Uhn.” He could see muscles strain under the thin shirt Galen wore, could feel that thick prick jerk in his hand, wet heat spreading over his thumb and wrist. “Jesus.”

  He groaned, leaned his forehead against Galen’s, panting, entire body alive.

  “Hell of an appetizer.” Licking the sweat from his upper lip, Galen stood back and let him slide ’til his feet touched the floor.

  �
�Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He nodded, fingers sliding over Galen’s hip. “Though the main course might well kill me.”

  THE TEQUILA-LIME chicken and guacamole? A hit.

  Galen figured he and Shane had eaten enough to render a gorilla comatose. Chips, chicken, guacamole, grilled corn. Damn. And they’d had a few of Shane’s Coronas too, sucking them down before collapsing in the late afternoon sun, sprawled out on the deck.

  Damn. Oh, damn Shane looked good. He was on the other chaise, way too far away, jeans riding low, tanned skin gleaming with a hint of sweat. Shane’s legs were spread, perspiring Corona bottle balanced on his crotch, and Galen thought he might bust a vein from looking.

  Fuck, there was something about the kid. Something that drew him, made him crazy for it. Now, Galen wasn’t one for self-deprivation anyway, but he had to admit it scared him a little, how much he wanted to tie Shane up in his bedroom and never let him out. Ever.

  What was worse was that the kid was a natural, sensual and hot, and up for anything Galen had thrown at him so far. A bruise stood out on that smooth skin, lurid and purple, right above one nipple, and Galen felt his cock stir just thinking how Shane had begged for more instead of calling him off when he’d left it there.

  Hell, at this rate his dick was gonna have calluses.

  Galen cleared his throat. “Been more than an hour since we ate. They say that’s all you need before you can do some heavy exercising again.”

  “Now why don’t I think you’re talking about a nice long swim?” The edge of that gimme cap was lifted up, blue eyes peering over the dark glasses, then pulled down again.

  “Maybe ’cause the only place I have to swim is out there with the gators?” Smartass. Galen shook his head, rolling up to his feet. “Gonna go get another beer. Want anything?”

  The kid’s chin dipped, and Galen could damn near feel the heat of that long, slow look. “Yeah, I’m thinkin’ so.” Then Shane pushed himself up, right into his space.

  Oh, now. He did like a challenge. “Yeah? What would that be?”