“Come for me,” Jeff urged.
An animalistic growl echoed in the room as Mack’s hips shot forward, filling him to the point of pain before retreating and driving in again. Over and over, Mack drove them toward that precarious edge, and Jeff held on, prayed it would last forever. Overwhelming pleasure assaulted him, making his cock pulse and twitch.
Mack warned him only seconds before he exploded, his hands tightening, squeezing Jeff’s fingers as he drove in as deep as he could and held himself there. His ass flexed around Mack’s cock as his lover came deep inside him. Jeff had expected to feel Mack’s weight settle over him, but instead, one thick arm banded around him, pulling Jeff up until he was kneeling, seated on Mack’s thick thighs, his ass still impaled.
When Mack fisted his cock, Jeff dropped his head back, resting it on Mack’s forehead as that relentless hand jerked him to completion.
“I love you,” Mack whispered as Jeff’s body drew up tight as a bow when he came.
But despite the fact his body was satiated, his heart and mind were now at war. He couldn’t lose this man, and he knew in that instant he would do whatever it took to ensure no one took him away from him.
Not again.
Not ever again.
Chapter Six
Saturday, January 25, 2020
“We apologize for coming on such shortnotice,” the short redhead said, her smile confident.
Mack realized she didn’t appear the least bit remorseful.
“But my clients insisted they see the house today. They’ve been looking for so long and, as you may know, real estate in Coyote Ridge is quite rare.”
Yeah, Mack had heard.
“Anyway, if you wouldn’t mind giving us a few minutes to look around…”
When her bright eyes shot to the front door, Mack realized she was dismissing him.
From his own fucking house.
Figured.
While the young couple studied the walls of his kitchen, Mack strolled toward the front door and out onto the porch. He didn’t bother grabbing his coat or his boots, stepping out into the chill. How long could they take? A couple of minutes was all that was required to walk all twelve hundred square feet. Twice.
Of course, it was raining and weirdly cold today, so his lack of clothing became apparent quickly. That would be his luck, especially since he had no choice but to hug the wall of the house in an effort to keep what little shelter there was over his head. After five minutes, Mack realized he should’ve grabbed his boots. Ten minutes and he was wishing he’d grabbed his coat. His gaze shifted to his truck parked in the driveway. Or at the very least, his keys. That way he could’ve been warm and dry while those strangers invaded his privacy, likely devising a plan to remodel every inch of the house Mack had called home for the past three decades.
He glared at the For Sale sign, wanted to give that stupid smiling picture of Chris the Realtor the finger. Better yet, he wanted to punch that smug bastard in the face. Chris had called him half an hour ago to let him know there were potential buyers coming by and he needed to have the place spic and span and be out as soon as possible. Not much notice, the woman inside had said. Try none.
Irritated at being woken early, Mack hadn’t bothered to rush, didn’t put his dishes in the dishwasher, nor did he make the effort to make his bed as Chris had suggested. Hell, the bastard was just lucky Mack wasn’t still in it. Or Jeff, for that matter. He wasn’t sure when the sheriff had slipped out, but he knew it was before dawn. Damn good thing, too.
A good half hour passed as Mack’s teeth chattered and his toes went numb, fingers, too, though he’d tucked them beneath his arms in an effort to keep from getting frostbite. Finally the front door opened and the three intruders stepped out. The redheaded Realtor was grinning widely.
“Thank you, Mr. Schwartz, for allowing us to look around. I’ll be in touch.”
Mack nodded, but rather than hang around to hear her spiel, he slipped back into the house and quickly closed the door, keeping them on the outside.
Instinct had him glancing around, ensuring nothing had been taken. Not that he had anything worth stealing. The old boombox on the side table hadn’t worked in at least twelve years. The television was on its last leg, roughly the same age.
Satisfied they hadn’t made off with his worthless shit, Mack padded down the hall to his room, fell into the bed, and closed his eyes.
*
“I know it’s Saturday, and I hate to bother you at home, but I thought you’d want to know what I found out.”
With his phone to his ear, Travis peered around the living room as his kids argued over who was supposed to be building the block fort they’d been working on for the past hour.
