Sam’s hips pushed up, driving that cock deep, not careful at all. Beau took it, loving it, needing Sam to need his touch. Closing his eyes, he sucked harder, pulling that thick dick deep.
“Oh, fuck. Boug. Need you. Need you so fucking bad. I…” Sam arched, started shaking for him.
He didn’t bother to pull off to answer. No, sir, Beau just gave Sam what he needed, licking and sucking and pulling, dropping his hand to squeeze those fuzzy balls. He was going to make Sam forget either one of them had ever been with anyone else.
Sam’s shoulders left the floor, cock throbbing between his lips for just a second before Sam gave it up, heat splashing on his tongue.
Uhn. Beau swallowed, taking in every drop, not wanting to let go. He just kept on sucking until Sam pulled him away, moaning a little.
“My Boug…” Sam whimpered for him, tugging him up.
“Done told you so.” Beau smiled before taking the kiss Sam offered, his hips rocking and rolling, reminding him of his own hard on.
Sam spread for him, let his dick rub some between those hot cheeks. He did some whimpering of his own, pushing down, his cock feeling right at home. They fit like they were made for each other.
Sam would let him have anything, would just give it up for him and damn, he loved it. Loved Sam.
His mouth landed on Sam’s again, the kiss wild and hot, toothy. Beau thrust a few more times, rubbing hard against Sam’s crease, against those heavy balls. That was all it took—he couldn’t wait no more. Sam bit his lip, just enough to sting—enough that he knew there’d be a little dark bruise, right there, right where anyone could see.
Jesus. That was… Beau shot so hard his teeth rattled, his whole body shaking with it.
“Oh. Oh, damn, Boug.” Sam pushed in close, holding on.
“Sam. Babe.” What could he say? Not a Goddamned thing, with his teeth rattling like that.
“Yeah. Sorry, huh? I just…He wants you, bad, and it makes me growl, thinking on it.”
“He wants what he remembers, Poot. That ain’t me, not now.” Shit, he liked Adam Taggart a lot—in fact, the man was possibly his best friend. He wasn’t sure he could give the man a cold shoulder just to keep Sam from getting mad. He’d try not to touch no more.
“Yeah. Yeah, Beau. I hear you.” He got himself this little grin. “You want I should warsh your back?”
“Yeah. That would be good, babe.” It was all good with Sam. Even if he was going to wear a bruise for a bit.
Chapter Twelve
“Do you know where you are, Bell? Bell, talk to me.” Doc’s voice was fucking piercing.
“Lemee ‘lone.” Jesus. Ow. Fuck.
“I can’t do that. What hurts? Where are you?”
“On the dirt.” He knew that much. For sure.
“Sammy? Poot?” Beau was there, and his voice was less grating.
“Boug.” He tried to get his eyes open, tried to make the room stop spinning.
“You got to tell us what hurts, Poot.” Beau sounded worried. He hated it when Beau sounded like that.
“‘M fine. Jus’ let me up, huh? Out.”
“Sure. Sure, Poot.”
Doc mumbled something, and Beau snarled, and soon he was up and wobbling out with Jonesy and Beau flanking him. He kept his eyes closed, waved to the crowd, focused on that one foot after the other thing.
“Sammy. Open your eyes and tell me you can see. Then I’ll let you keep ‘em closed all night.”
His eyes flashed open and he stared at Beau, feeling more than a little sick. “I can see you, Beau. Swear to God.”
