Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
He lugged the cooler and let Dillon get the sacks of goodies, leaving the duffels locked in the truck. His ribs were too damn sore to carry using the shoulder straps and they were in clean clothes, showered, and planning on being naked.
Coke had had what was probably the best day of his life.
He’d played with Dillon for three hours at the museum, both of them acting like newborn fools, then they’d gone shopping, eaten a quick little something and headed out to work.
The bulls were good, the boys were solid, and Sam won the event, which good Lord knew the man needed bad.
Not only that, but Dillon’s backside shook through the whole damn event.
Too fine.
“Man, I might need more sugar.” Dillon still seemed like his legs were made of springs, though, the way they bounced.
“There’s candy and stuff. Or I could walk to the Denny’s and get you some pancakes.”
“No, candy is good. I like Snickers. M & Ms. Though we should save those for coffee. Hey, you want some coffee?” The man almost skated around the room, touching this and that, hands always moving.
“Sure, honey.” He started unpacking, whistling a little under his breath. Jason and Andy had called already, and things were…solid.
Dillon rinsed out the coffee pot—the man said his sister had worked as a hotel maid, and said never, ever use it without—and began opening packets and shit. Lord, look at that smile.
“You did good tonight.” He’d said it every night for years. He didn’t reckon that was going to change.
“So did you. Didn’t get whapped, huh?” He could tell Dillon didn’t like it when he’d gotten hit the night before. He hadn’t harped on it or anything, but it had come up.
“Nope. Didn’t get my shorts in a wad, neither.” He touched the stitches on his face. “You reckon Doc’ll notice if I take the stitches out before ten days is up?”
“I bet he will.” Suddenly right there, Dillon stroked his cheek, under the cut. “He did a good job.”
He couldn’t ignore the little flutter in the pit of his belly. “You don’t think it’s gonna be Frankensteiny?”
“No. I think it’s going to be one of those hot scars. You know, like Raul has on his chin?” Dillon went up on tiptoe and kissed his face.
“Yeah?” He found his hands a home on Dillon’s waist, fingers tracing the scars that were along one side from where Dillon’s barrel’d broke.
“Uh-huh. Sexy. A little badge of honor.” Their mouths came together, Dillon pressing against him, loving on him.
His cock filled right up, almost hurting where it pushed against his zipper, trying to get to Dillon. The man was like a furnace against him, setting him on fire.
“Mmm. Oh, man. Coke. Babe.” Dillon all but crawled up his body, holding on, trying not to hit his bruised shoulder, which he did appreciate.
He couldn’t help the little shiver, the soft groan. That was something, that name. “Yeah.”
“Come on, babe. Let’s get horizontal.” Crowding him back, Dillon pushed him to the bed, working away at his clothes.
“I thought you were hungry.” He grabbed Dillon’s ass, moaning low. So fucking fine.
“Oh, I want some chocolate. Some coffee. Some Coke, first, though.” Dillon crawled on top of him, still dressed to his mostly naked.
“You can have whatever you want, honey. The door’s locked, and I ain’t answering the phone.” He spread his legs, cradling Dillon and rocking a little.
“Good. I’m greedy.” Yeah. Lord, that mouth. It could talk a mile a minute, and it could latch onto his skin, just like that, Dillon sucking hard on his collarbone.
Oh, sweet Jesus. He felt his eyes rolling as his throat worked.
Oh, God. Him and Dan’d loved on each other some, but he’d not ever been with someone so hungry for him.
Laughing, Dillon moved up to kiss his mouth, lips and tongue working him over but good.
He moaned, one hand sliding up to cup the back of Dillon’s head, just hanging on.
Dillon bounced on him, jeans rough against his skin, sweet nothings pushing into his mouth. Hot as a two dollar pistol.
Jeans. Off. They should, but. Damn. He pushed his tongue against Dillon’s, tongue fucking those hot lips.
They finally broke to breathe, Dillon staring down at him, chest rising and falling hard. “Wow.”
“Uh-huh. Jesus, honey, you…” He didn’t have any words. Not any good ones.
“Want you.”
Now, Dillon’s words and actions didn’t seem to match up, because he hopped up like his ass was on fire. He was only going to get the stuff from the store, though.
“You got too many clothes on, honey.” Way too many. He wanted to see.
“Oh. Here, hold this.” The little bag landed on the bed, and Dillon started stripping off like there was no tomorrow.
He’d have unloaded the little bag, but he got to watching. Dillon shaved his legs and had a smooth, flat little belly, not all fuzzy like him. It was that belly that got him every time. Well, and the ass. Dillon had a nice, solid dick, too.
“I want you.” He found himself scooting, reaching for Dillon, for that hard cock.
“Well, that’s good.” Dillon moved close enough for him to reach, moaning when his fingers made contact.
His hand slipped up and down, fingers sliding on the thin skin, trying to imagine the length of it inside him, filling him up.
“Mnh.” Dillon didn’t seem like he was thinking at all, just feeling, loving Coke’s hand on him.
Coke hummed softly, thumb rubbing the ridge around the swollen tip, nudging the slit a little.
“Coke!” Grunting, Dillon moved up on the bed, crawling up on him, skin on skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, c’mere.” He dragged Dillon closer, moaning as they started rubbing.
“Good. So good.” Dillon’s cock pushed against his, his hand still there, stroking both of them, somehow. It was damned amazing, but he wanted more.
“Need you, Dillon.” Coke wanted that ass tight around him.
“Okay.” Open, generous, Dillon smiled and grabbed the bag of goodies, pulling out the condoms and handing them to him, keeping the lube and struggling to open it. He managed to get the rubber open, slick it down over his aching cock without completely embarrassing himself.
Which was better than a very gooey Dillon had done. The little tube was squished, and there was slick stuff all over.
He grinned, started chuckling softly, tickled and fond. “Lord, lord. We’re gonna be like greased pigs, you and me.”
“Sorry.” That bright grin didn’t fade a bit, Dillon using both wet hands to slick down his rubber-covered cock. “This way we won’t stick.”
“W-works for me. Damn, honey…” He groaned and bucked up, hands landing on Dillon’s hips with a slap.
“Oh.” Wiggling, Dillon groaned for him, cheeks going even brighter. “Here, have some lube.”
“Uh-huh.” He slicked his fingers up, sliding back behind Dillon’s balls to touch. Oh, God. That was something…
“In. In, in, in.” Dillon all but chanted it, begging him, pushing back with that fine ass.
“Don’t want to hurt you, honey.” He pushed his fingers in and he moaned at the squeeze, the clench that Dillon gave him.
“Not hurting. Well, my dick is kinda achy.” That laugh made those muscles around his fingers do the most amazing things.
He reached for Dillon’s cock, stroking it in time with the pushes of his fingers inside that tight ass.
Dillon’s whole body jerked for him, lean muscles flexing under Dillon’s skin, which was flushed a deep pink. “More. Oh, babe. More.”
“Uh-huh. So pretty. Been wanting.” Look at that man. Dillon just made him goddamn crazed.
“Me, too. You know I have.” Pushing back, Dillon took more, begging him to get that hot, tight hole ready.
“I… Please. Please, honey, I gotta know, now.” He needed to see Dillon riding him more than he needed to breathe.
“Yeah. Okay, yeah.” Dillon crawled up his body and settled astride his hips, ass pressing against his cock.
His mouth opened and he made himself stay still, stay quiet, so that Dillon could take it nice and easy. Not that Dillon took anything the easy way. No, sir, Dillon slid right down, taking him all the way, ass landing against Coke’s lap.
His shoulders tried to leave the bed, his broken ribs and stiff back reminding him that he wasn’t eighteen anymore—not at all.
“Coke.” Dillon held him down, grinning into his eyes. “You let me do the work.”
Then the man started moving.
Oh, sweet Lord. Yes. He reached for Dillon, adding his strength, too, letting them find a hard, steady rhythm that he could keep up all night.
Grunts and soft moans filled the air, Dillon, as mouthy as always, urging him on.
Those hands were all over him, his chest, his belly, Dillon pulling at his nipples.
He bent his knees, changing the angle until he heard that sound, that gasping, shocked, needy sound that meant that he was right where he needed to be. Dillon went a little crazy, rubbing up and down, taking him in, then letting him almost out, slamming down so he hit that sweet spot every time.
He managed to let go with one hand, get his fingers wrapped around Dillon’s cock to squeeze.
“Fuck. Yeah. Babe. That’s… Harder.”
It amused the hell out of him that Dillon liked it a little dirty. A little rough. He groaned and pushed harder, really tugging on that pretty dick, giving Dillon all he had.
“God!” Dillon bit the shout off, but it came out loud and hearty anyway. Then Dillon came for him, hot spunk spilling over his belly, that ass clamping down on him like to kill him dead.
He humped up a few more times, driving through the pleasure, the pressure, letting the smell of sex and the shocked, wide-eyed expression on Dillon’s face send him over.
Dillon watched him the whole time, bending to kiss his lips when he stopped shaking. “I’m going to feel you for days.”
Didn’t that give him a wealth of satisfaction? “Good.” Damn good, in fact.
“Mmm-hmm.” That was an utterly content sound, Dillon sinking down on his chest a moment before laughing, sniffing. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Mmm. Coffee.” He kissed Dillon’s temple. “Let me get cleaned up and we’ll have a hotel feast.”
God, Dillon smelled like heaven.
“Sounds good.” Easing off him, Dillon bent down and gave him a proper kiss, lips and tongue hot and wet against his.
Between this and the promise of chocolate in his coffee, Coke reckoned he was heading into an amazing goddamn night.