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down between Shane's thighs. His cock felt like stone.
"Yours. Yours." Shane grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip
against that tight little hole. Fuck. Fuck.
"Shane. Darlin'. You sure?" They hadn't done anything to
stretch ... When Shane nodded, he lost it, pressing hard into
Shane's body.
The grunt pressed into his shoulder, then Shane's teeth
sank in when he stilled. "Don't fucking stop. Take me."
"Shane." His voice sounded like ground glass, and Galen
gave up the talking, just moving in and out, hips plunging.
Shane took him, took everything, and demanded more
from him. He bit hard into Shane's neck, cock throbbing, so
close. On the edge.
Shane's ass clenched, gripping him, "Yours. Galen. Yours."
"Mine..." Galen shot, his breath catching in his chest as he
pumped into Shane over and over.
He settled down into warm, solid arms, Shane rocking,
humming, fingers petting him. He nuzzled Shane's neck,
loving the scent of sweat and man and warm leather from the
couch. He didn't even mind that Goober was sitting over by
the door, watching him.
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"So, vacation soon."
"Mmmhmm. No phones. No bars."
"Nothing but us and a bed and some good food. Maybe
some whiskey." Yeah. Oh, hell, yeah, that sounded good.
He'd better get that weight set and get ripped before they
went. He didn't want to go on vacation with a potbelly.
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Chapter Twenty One
There were certain unavoidable weirdnesses in life. The
way women could talk with lip goop on. The fact that people
ate squid. Vic's ability to eat a whole chicken in a single gulp.
Then there was the way Galen got when he thought maybe
someone was looking too hard at Shane's ass.
Or nipples.
Or anything.
Damn.
Shane shook his head, watched Galen glower and growl at
some little red-headed boy who'd dared to ask him out. Galen
did that whole looming-and-glowering thing really well. It was
like he got taller and his shoulders got wider or something.
Like it reminded you that Galen had been a semi-pro at
football.
Not to mention the stubborn chin. Damn.
Of course, it was kinda sexy.
Okay, really sexy.
Glancing over, Galen caught his eye and immediately quit
making the kid piss his pants, coming over to him instead.
"Hey, you."
"Hey." He couldn't help the grin, the slow, burning look.
"You having fun?"
"I am now. Did you want to dance, darlin'?" Galen knew
how he loved to dance, he surely did.
"Oh, hell, yes. Any day. Anytime. Yes." He moved right
into Galen's arms, all about nodding and pushing close.
"Mmm. I like your shirt, Shane. It's not quite see through."
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It was. And it was just thin enough to feel the heat of
Galen's hand on the small of his back, like a brand.
"I like how it makes you look at me." Like he was a bowl of
chocolate ice cream and Galen was a starving man.
"Yeah. I like it a lot. Your nipple rings show," Galen said,
rubbing right up on his chest as they swayed to the music.
"Mmmhmm." He loved this, the way their hips settled
together, the way they matched. They needed to do it more
often, for sure. The music changed, going slower, kinda
growly, suiting Galen to a T, really giving him some good
dancing. Galen gave it right up for him.
"Oh. Oh, man." He leaned, lips on Galen's throat, cock
filling right on up.
"Oh, yeah, darlin'. I just love it when you get all melty."
He could feel Galen's breath on his cheek, hot and damp.
"Dancing with you's like pure heaven." Pure, kinky, slinky
sexy.
"Yeah? It's like being at home in bed, only with music."
And with strangers watching, but that was okay, right?
"Mmm. We're a little less naked here. Which is good, the
way you growl."
"I don't growl. I just ... you're mine, darlin'," Galen said,
pulling him a little closer and growling right next to his ear.
He'd bet someone had been looking too close.
"I am. Balls to bones." Like anyone else anywhere could be
Galen.
"Good." One big hand cupped his ass, pulling him up,
rubbing them together. "Good thing I'm not a jealous man,
huh?"
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"Absolutely. Might make life dangerous." He chuckled,
nipped Galen's throat.
"Oh, do that again." Now he could feel Galen's answering
hardness, pushing at him through their jeans.
Oh, hell, yeah. He bit again, letting his teeth sink in a little
harder, a little deeper.
That fuzzy beard that Galen had grown in rubbed his cheek
and his nose as Galen arched into the touch of his mouth,
humming deep and low. The music picked up again but they
didn't, just swaying slow and easy.
It didn't get any better. Well, okay. It could get hotter.
Kinkier.
Way more naked.
But this still rocked his world.
Especially since he knew Galen would never, ever do this
with anyone else. The man would rather sit at the back of the
bar with a beer he'd opened, those long legs sprawled out,
hips tilted just so, attitude pouring off ... kinda like when
they'd met.
"Why me?" He tilted his head, lips on Galen's earlobe.
"There were other men at the club that first night. Why'd you
pick me?"
"You had this thing, darlin'. This way about you. When that
old man reached out and tweaked you I wanted to take him
down. That's when I knew." Galen pinched his butt, making
him jump.
His chuckle was a little breathy, and he pressed closer.
"Oh, man. I guess I got something to thank him for, then."
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"Uh-huh. And he has you to thank for still having his
head." Breathing hard, Galen rubbed him, loved on him. "We
might ... we might need to go home."
"Uh-huh. Home. Bed. Naked."
Before somebody looked too hard and Galen got grumpy.
"Or you know, the Jeep and the beach."
Oh. Oh, they hadn't done that in an age.
"Oh..." He just damn near died. "Weatherman said there
might be a squall tonight."
"Let's go then, darlin'. I've got a hankering to tie you to
the roll bar." That wasn't a hankering in Galen's pants. That
was a big old need.
"Mmmhmm. You. Me. Rope. Rain."
Him and Galen.
Pure Heaven and he hadn't even had to ask for it.
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Chapter Twenty Two
Shane screeched into the driveway, gravel flying. Galen
Frost was going to get his ass kicked so hard he'd be shitting
from between his shoulder blades.
It was bad enough that no one could ever get through on
the fucking house phone or Galen's cell because Mr. Gee-I-
Own-A-Fucking-Football-Thing Frost was always on it. Or that
they never went out anymore because somebody not him was
always flying here and there doing football shit.
But being stood up?
While Tommy and Rick and them watched and laughed and
pointed and offered to get him a real date? Somebody that
showed up. Somebody that paid attention. Somebody that
wanted him for more than a hard fuck on the stops home.
Somebody that. Yeah.
Fuck that.
He tore the door open, snarling. If the man wasn't dead,
he was going to kill him.
There was no one in the kitchen. Or on the leather couch
in the front room. Or even in Galen's office. In fact the phone
was off the hook.
Oh shit. Maybe Galen was sick. Or attacked by an axe
murderer. Or Vic. "Goober? Where's Len?"
Goob came wagging over, whuffling sleepily at his feet.
Then the silly mutt waddled right off down the hall toward the
bedroom, tail fanning back and forth.
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He headed back toward the bedroom, trying not to wig
out. Well, there was no blood. That sort of limited the whole
axe murderer idea.
He got to the bedroom and the lamp by the bed was on,
the low light shining on the clothes laid out on the bed.
Charcoal gray pants, the ones that showed Galen's ass off so
good, and a thin, crazy-patterned shirt that gave him just the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]