Which he was peeling off.
“I said it’ll be fine. We’re not novelists here, baby. We’re going to use short words with a few syllables. ‘It’ll be fine’ carries a lot of weight.”
Burton glared at him, naked and vampire pale on their couch, stroking his… uhm… stroking his surprisingly big cock with a hand slick with lube.
“Uhm….” Well, Ernie was right about them not being novelists. At this point, Burton could be excused for thinking they were barely even wolves.
He certainly wanted to fall on his mate and rut.
Ernie arched his back and squeezed, his eyes going to half-mast. “Tomorrow,” he breathed, “is going to be difficult and dangerous.” He let his knees fall open, and Burton’s hands were on his own belt as Ernie splayed himself for hard use. Burton saw where this was going, and the combination of his irritation and his worry and Ernie’s fine rangy body displayed for him, vulnerable and needy, had Burton hardening even before his fatigues fell to the floor with his briefs.
“Shirt too,” Ernie told him, his breathing growing quick. “I want to nibble on your nipples. They’re so pointy!”
And now he was naked and taking the bottle of lubricant from Ernie’s flailing hand.
“Let go of your cock, Club Boy. Nobody’s coming without me.”
Ernie gave him a sultry smile from half-closed eyes.
“Hurry,” he whispered.
Lee gave his cock a swift pass with the slick and lowered himself between Ernie’s spread thighs, thrusting in before his Club Boy could catch his breath.
The long, aching groan Ernie let out rocked Lee Burton to his balls.
It wasn’t slow after that, it was hard and dirty and desperate, with Ernie matching him, calling his name breathlessly, thrust for thrust. They knew this dance, and from the early days when Lee hadn’t known what love was, even when he’d been fucking it blind, they knew how to waltz, skin-to-skin, cock-to-ass, like it might be their last chance to touch in this lifetime.
Still, he was unprepared for Ernie’s unrepentant keen, his fingernails scraping Lee’s chest, his helpless little cry of surrender as his climax rocked him. He spasmed on Lee’s cock and shuddered, and Lee’s vision went dark, his orgasm so hard and so furious the only sound that made it through was his heart roaring in his ears.
For a moment, they were both still, that breathless pause in midair after leaping off the precipice, and then they were falling, rocked and trembling, as their desire thundered in their ears, receding from their blood reluctantly, hampered only by biology and stirred to pain by will.
Their harsh breaths echoed under the lights in their living room until Ernie said, “I’ve got to remember to put a towel down before we fuck on the couch. Furniture cleaner can only go so far.”
Burton laughed into the hollow of his neck, feeling his cock stirring, still inside Ernie’s body.
“Either that or you need to find another way to shut me up and bend me to your will.”
Ernie’s chuckle was low and dirty. “Why? Why would I do that when this one’s so delicious?”
Lee started rocking again, and that chuckle echoed through the joining of their flesh. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said. “Because I’m still pissed at you, and round two’s gonna be rough.”
Ernie moaned decadently and lifted his hips, wrapping his legs around Burton’s thighs. “Fuck me harder,” he whispered. “Fuck me until I scream.”
His voice cracked this time, and Burton still thrust. He sobbed, begging for more, and Burton still fucked him. His scream of climax, when it came, rang in Burton’s ears long after the sweat cooled from their bodies, long after the come creamed from Ernie’s ass down his thighs.
But so did Burton’s, words and all.
You’d better fucking live, Ernie. You’d better fucking live.
IN A WAYit was cute, George thought. Jai didn’t like him to know when he’d killed.
And George got it. He’d become a nurse to help give back to his community—he wanted to help people. Technically, living with a guy who killed people on the regular seemed to be at odds with that philosophy.
And maybe, before meeting Ace and Sonny, before laboring alongside them to keep the garage going, to keep their little family going, that might have been true for Jai.
But after coming to regard Ace as a brother—and harboring quite a torch for Sonny, George was aware—Jai may have still been able to kill, but he wasonlyable to do it in defense of his family, of his home.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t… enjoy his skill, George admitted wryly. Because itwasa skill, and part of it came from natural ability. Jai had been the biggest and the strongest all hislife, but part of it came from studying. George reckoned that Jai hadn’t been a cruel child, nor a cruel teenager. But he’d been forced to be the protector—first of his street gang, then of the mobster who had literally plucked him off the streets and flown him to America, where he’d been dependent on the grace of what amounted to a cold-blooded general.
