Chapter 22 #3
“I don’t know.” Those sweet, devastated eyes stared at him, Coke hurting so bad Dillon could feel it. “I don’t know, cowboy, and I’ll have his back the rest of his life, but I’d give damn near anything to have reached him five seconds sooner.”
“I know. I know, Coke. You think Bax doesn’t think the same?” He laughed, the sound a little desperate. “Look at how fast Bax got to him. The slowest man ever. It has nothing to do with want to.”
Coke leaned into him, letting him hold on, not meeting his eyes. “You’re it, you know. What I wouldn’t give up for Jase.”
“I’m selfish enough to say good.” He kissed Coke’s cheek, the side of Coke’s jaw, gentle touches meant to comfort. “I’m in it for the long haul, Coke.”
“Good.” Coke sighed, nodded. “Come take a shower with me? Touch me a little?”
“You know it, babe. I would so love that.” He helped Coke up, helped get the soft shorts and tank top off.
Coke helped him, too, hands sliding over his skin, petting him.
They walked to the bathroom together, arm in arm, and Dillon got the water going.
By now he knew what Coke liked, and was glad they coincided.
The shower was like heaven—the little molded seat that was big enough for two, the huge shower head.
There were even little ledges for soaps and shit. It was adorable.
The steam rose from the water, and Dillon guided Coke to the seat. He wanted to rub those tight shoulders.
“You spoil me.”
“You do the same for me. It’s all good.” He got a little bath oil, which he had a feeling Coke usually used for something else, and rubbed it between his palms.
Coke’s nostrils flared at the smell and, yeah, this wasn’t used for soaking in.
Grinning a little, Dillon started at the top and worked down, with long, gentle strokes.
He had to be careful with Coke’s poor neck.
Coke’s head fell forward a little, just a little, but enough that he knew Coke was feeling it.
He moved his fingers, slow and sure, rubbing in the oil, rubbing the tension out. Damn, but Coke felt like frozen rope.
One callused hand landed on his thigh, sliding slow and easy, thumb stroking.
“Mmm. That feels good, huh?” It felt amazing. It always did when Coke touched him.
“It does.” The tension started melting away, those broad shoulders easing.
Dillon worked at Coke’s shoulders next, knowing he had to soften them before starting on that abused spine. The man had more scars than anyone his age ought to, but Dillon thought they were hot.
That hand slid up, gently cupping his balls, rubbing him right back.
“Uhn.” Toes scrabbling for purchase, he pushed his foot against the floor of the shower, his other knee still planted on the bench next to Coke. It wouldn’t do to fall.
“They’re so goddamn soft and you smell good down there. All man.”
“Coke.” Sometimes Coke said things that made him want to come, just like that. Without any thought.
“Yeah.” Coke leaned a little more, lips brushing his ribs as that hand touched and tugged.
Gathering his thoughts, Dillon started touching Coke again, his hands sliding around front, fingers plucking at Coke’s nipples.
“Dillon.” He loved that shocked little look that Coke always gave him, like Coke thought nipples were only decorative.
Nipples were a wondrous thing. Coke’s especially.
Dillon did love them. He twisted them a little, thumbs rubbing.
That let him watch Coke’s thighs part, the heavy cock bobbing as Coke shifted.
Yum. Turning, he sat on the shower seat next to Coke, his hand sliding down over the flat belly, fingertips grazing that amazing prick. “So hot, Coke.”
“Your fault. You make me.” Coke’s hand slipped around his back, finding his ass.
“I like that, babe. I like that it’s me.” Pushing in close, Dillon took a kiss, his lips pressing to Coke’s, slick with water.
Coke moved him as if he weighed nothing at all, drawing him around to straddle those thick thighs and snuggle in close. Their cocks pushed together, and suddenly the whole thing was familiar, right, where Dillon got to ride and Coke was smiling for him. So much better than the tense frown.
“Mmm. That’s about right.” Coke’s hand found his ass, the other cupping their dicks.
Rocking, Dillon held on to Coke’s shoulders, locking his feet against Coke’s shins. Leverage was good.
The water hit him, right in the small of his back, right where Coke’s hands were.
That had him moaning, arching, letting his hips roll. God, Coke could make him forget everything, even what he was supposed to make Coke forget.
“Look at you.” The words were low, rough, Coke’s gaze sharp and dragging over him like a touch.
“Me? Oh, babe.” He kissed Coke hard, lips mashing against Coke’s, but his eyes stayed wide open. He’d much rather look at Coke.
Coke’s tongue pushed in, moving with the same rhythm as that hand. He grunted and pushed down hard, slamming their cocks together, way beyond needing a gentle touch. Way beyond. He needed a hard, fast rubdown.
It seemed like Coke was right with him, stroking and rubbing him, jacking him faster.
“Coke. Babe. I… Oh.” His head fell back, the water hitting his hair, and Dillon burst out with a desperate laugh, figuring he looked like something in a porno movie.
“Yeah. Yeah. Come on, cowboy.” He heard Coke groan, felt that rough hand squeeze. “Come for me, now.”
“Now.” All Coke had to do was ask. Dillon came like there was no tomorrow, his balls aching, his dick jerking in Coke’s hand.
“Sweet Lord.” Coke hunched a little, hips leaving the bench seat.
“Now you, babe. Yeah?” He let go of one of Coke’s shoulders, but he didn’t reach for that sweet cock. Nope, he went for the left nipple, pinching it hard.
“Yes.” Coke jumped, shooting for him, seed spreading between them.
Whoa. Smell that. Dillon breathed them in, the water washing it all away almost too fast. It was a good thing, though.
“Mmm. Hell of a better start to our morning.”
“You know it.” Grinning, he leaned in and took a kiss, loving on that man for all he was worth.
Coke’s arms wrapped around him, holding on. Loving on him right back.
They’d make all this work, no problem. They had each other. That would make all the other stuff easy as pie.