Don't Read in the Closet volume one (20 page)

“Thank God.”
Expecting Jack to pull out and shove back home, Dale was pleasantly surprised
when Jack bent over him and kissed his shoulder first. “When you come, do it
crying out my name,” he
whispered,
his breath warm and
moist against Dale’s skin. Then he kissed Dale again, softly, just before he
eased most of the way out to effortlessly glide gently back in.

Dale moaned,
and started to lose himself in the pleasure being filled by Jack gave him. Just
that morning he’d thought about this, of being taken by Jack, of giving himself
to Jack, and now he was, and it was better than anything he could have
imagined.

The heat that
began somewhere in his stomach spread quickly, consuming every muscle, every
cell, every nerve until Dale felt as if he was close to combustion. Jack’s
thrusts had become harder, longer, deeper and his rhythm had become faster more
instinctual than calculated. Dale could tell Jack was beginning to lose it and
that knowledge pushed Dale closer to the edge he was already skating along.

Pleasure pumped
through vein and heart as physical as Jack’s cock pumping into Dale’s body. He
whimpered, and despite Jack’s warning, Dale pushed back to meet each of Jack’s
perfect thrusts, but Jack didn’t punish him; the time for smacks was over.

Dale was close
to coming, and by the feel of it, so was Jack. Each glide of Jack’s cock was
now hitting Dale’s nerve rich gland and the build of his climax was becoming
intense.

“Jack.” The
plea in Dale’s tone would not have been hard to miss and Dale expected Jack to
curl an arm beneath his hip and help him, because tied as he was, Dale couldn’t
help himself. But Jack didn’t move a muscle except the ones he was using to
snap his hips forward and bury himself deeper into Dale’s ass. “Jack, I need to
come. I need you to touch me,” Dale added, just in case Jack hadn’t caught on.

Jack slowed a
little, just a little, but his fingers never let up on their grip on Dale’s
hips. “No, you don’t.”

For a second
Dale wasn’t sure he heard right. “Fuck, Jack.” He’d never come like that,
without a hand on him and he wasn’t sure he could now. “Jack, please!” Dale
started to strain against the bindings on his wrists, though God knew why. He
was tied up tight; he wasn’t moving an inch.

Jack slowed a
little further, but it was only to lean over Dale’s back again. The pressure
and heat enveloped Dale, drawing him deeper into the web of need Jack had woven
around him, but he was suspended there, unable to go any further. Until Jack
spoke.

“You can do it,
Dale. Come for me.”

“Oh, God!” Dale
almost wept, it wasn’t going to happen and he almost begged Jack again, but
then he felt it, that deep, concentrated tightness that was like a coil ready
to burst. Dale sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for it, praying for it, his
body bowed and trembling.

“That’s it,
babe. For me.”

Whether it was
an instruction or a plea, it was enough. An explosion of pleasure erupted
through Dale pulling a shocked cry from his throat while a hot pulse of thick
cum splattered across his stomach at exactly the same moment Dale felt Jack’s
cock expand and throb inside him.

“Jack! Oh
shit!” Again, mind numbing bliss poured through Dale’s body, again he felt the
wet spatter of his release, again Jack’s cock, buried deep, pulsated and
emptied. And again, and again until Dale collapsed, his final cry lost
somewhere in Jack’s mouth as Jack quickly turned him over and kissed him. Arms
crossed above his head, Dale couldn’t move, but he didn’t have the energy to
even try. The best he could do was
kiss
Jack back and
make a small sound of protest when Jack slowly released his mouth.

Green eyes
stared down at him, the depths of them sparkling. “That was beautiful.”

Still feeling
the effects of coming like that deep in his balls, Dale couldn’t help but
agree. He’d never come so hard, but then he’d never had Jack inside him either.
“Yeah,” he said, knowing how inadequate he sounded, but there really wasn’t
anything else he could have added. It
was
beautiful, more than
beautiful; it was amazing.

Jack smiled,
smoothing Dale’s sweaty hair away from his face. “I’ve wanted to do that to you
for months. Thank you for letting me.”

“My pleasure,”
Dale said
,
grinning now he’d got his wits back.

“So you’ll let
me do it again?” Jack asked
,
reaching up to untie the
leather wrapped around Dale’s wrists.

Dale rubbed his
skin, but he hadn’t been marked; Jack obviously knew what he was doing. “As
long as you let me do it to you sometime.”

“That would be
my
pleasure.” Jack’s smile turned into that slow, sexy grin Dale was seriously in
love with, and as Jack pulled Dale into his arms and hugged him close, Dale
felt he couldn’t love Jack any more. He snuggled into Jack’s warm body,
content, replete, happy.

“Thank you for
finding me today.”

Dale lifted his
chin to stare into Jack’s face. “You don’t have to thank me for that. Anyone
would have done it.”

‘Yeah, but no
one would have done it while wearing nothing but their boots and a hat. I’m
glad it was you, and I’m glad you hadn’t given up on trying
to
get
me to notice you.”

Dale couldn’t
quite hide the shiver that raced down his spine as he recalled his promise to
himself if it hadn’t worked. God, he couldn’t even contemplate leaving here
now.

“What?” Jack
tilted Dale’s chin further, holding him so Dale couldn’t look away. “What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing, but…”
Did he want to say this? Did he want to admit he’d been close to giving up? At
the questioning look in Jack’s eyes, Dale knew he had to. “That was my last
ditch attempt. After that…” He shrugged. “I was ready to leave.”

“Too late,
Dale. You’re not leaving me now, not ever. I did tell you I love you, didn’t
I?”

Dale smiled.
“Yes, you told me.”

“And I meant
it. And with my love comes commitment.” Jack looked so sincere that Dale was
scared to say something, but Jack was waiting.

“I love you,
too. And I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever.” Dale repeated Jack’s
words,
turning them into a commitment to match the one Jack
had given him.

“Good. Now go
get your hat and boots. The way you looked on that horse today has given me an
idea.”

Without a
second’s hesitation, Dale ran to the bathroom and grabbed his gear. When he got
back, Jack was stretched out on the bed and had started stroking that enormous
cock. Dale’s mouth watered, his ass clenched, and when Jack grinned, his
stomach flipped, but it was Jack’s next words that had Dale’s heart racing and
his blood pumping. It also had him crawling onto the bed with a grin as big as
Jack’s own.

“Climb on,
cowboy. You’re gonna go for a ride.”

THE END

Author bio:
A lover of books since before she
could read and a maker of stories before she knew how to talk properly, it was
only natural that Penny started writing when she could hold a pen. From
fairytales to teenage romances to the hot, erotic stories she writes now, she’s
always held the same belief; to love what she puts down on paper. Which means
she doesn’t love cooking, cleaning or weeding the garden. She does, however,
love to travel and has lived in England and Ireland and now resides in
Australia where she intends to stay and discover all that she can of this
beautiful country.

Penny
would love to hear from you and can be contacted at [email protected].
She also has a blog address where you can read her comments and story ideas in
progress at
http://pennybrandon.blogpsot.com.

Selected by Lee Brazil

Dear Author,

My marriage ended badly
but I have no regrets as I now have a wonderful son. I wonder what's next for
me, though, and if I'll ever find true love?

[PHOTO: A close-up photo of a shirtless man
bent over his 1-1/2 year old son. His "tough" looks directly contrast
the tenderness he shows his son. He has a day's growth of dark beard, a
negative gauge hoop stretching his left ear, a pierced lip, and black, shaded
tattoos down his arms.]

Sincerely,

Juni

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
divorce, custody battle, family
drama, law enforcement, first time, abduction-kidnapping, men with children

Words:
13,867

BE A BAD BOY

by
Lee Brazil

CHAPTER 1

Furious, Devyn
Strake stalked up the overgrown path to Kayla’s apartment. It was his weekend
to have Kail. Devyn was stuck with this stupid visitation agreement: Wednesday
nights, every other weekend and alternate holidays. He should have had full
custody, but instead the judge had decreed that a boy of eight months needed
his mother more than his father. Bullshit. Kail needed him as much as he needed
Kail.

2C. He hadn’t
been here before, but surely, Kayla could afford better on the amount of child
and spousal support he’d been required to pay?

He knocked
politely on the door, a sharp rap. A noise from inside drifted through an open
screen window. It only took a moment to recognize the sound as the pathetic
cries of a baby. He pounded his fists on the grubby door, calling out, “Kayla!
It’s Devyn. I came to get Kail for the weekend.” There was no response, no
sound from within but the continued cries. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Kayla
had claimed he’d threatened her, asked the judge for a restraining order. The
judge had eyed him up and down, noting every piercing and tattoo, and the order
had been granted. His expensive lawyer and his Dad by his side in his Armani
suit had counted for nothing. He looked like a thug, therefore he was a thug.

Then again, Kayla
was supposed to bring Kail to him for his visits at a prearranged public place.
He’d waited at the McDonald’s for over an hour past the time they were to be
there. When he couldn’t reach Kayla on her cell phone, he’d given in to the
anger and headed over here. She could have all the money he could get his hands
on, but Kayla wasn’t keeping him from his son any more.

He could hear
Kail’s frantic cries from inside the apartment, but other than that, there was
no sign of anyone being home. It was his weekend to have Kail, and Kayla was
fucking nuts if she thought she was going to get away with not bringing him to
the meeting place again. Restraining order
be
thrice
damned.

Pain ripped
through him as his son’s cries grew louder on the other side of that door. He
looked around frantically. Either Kayla had gotten a lot more tolerant than she
used to be or she wasn’t in there. If she was passed out then he had to get to
Kail. The manager’s office had an out to lunch sign on the door. No help from
that quarter. No one else seemed to care about the noise he made
or
the
noise his son made.

Devyn bent
forward to peer in the window, hoping to catch sight of Kayla or Kail through
the window. He couldn’t see Kayla, but he saw Kail right away. The little boy
stood clutching grimly at the bars of the playpen, screaming and crying, face
red with exertion. Tears had etched shiny tracks down his face, and he was nude
except for a bulky looking diaper.

Desperate to
get to Kail, he pulled the Swiss army knife his Dad had given him for his
fourteenth birthday from his pocket. The window to the left of the door was
raised just a bit. Kneeling down, he used the sharp blade to cut the screen
away from the frame. Peeling the screen back, he raised the window, talking as
soothingly as he could to Kail as he did. “Daddy’s coming, big boy. No need to
cry. Daddy’s here.”

When Kail
turned to the window and caught sight of his daddy climbing through, his
shrieks subsided to sobs. The tear-drenched dark eyes ripped another hole in
Devyn’s heart. Fuck. He landed on the floor under the window knocking a
withered plant over on the way down.

Without Kail’s
cries, the apartment was eerily silent. Kayla wasn’t here. Devyn rose shakily
and hurried to the playpen. Kail reached out to grab him, striving to climb out
on his own. “Shh… I got you.” He pulled the squirming little body close,
grimacing as hot liquid seeped through the soggy diaper and through his own t-shirt.
He wrinkled his nose at the scent of piss. Poor tyke hadn’t been changed in a
while.