Don't Read in the Closet volume one (96 page)

Pressing one
finger against his protesting lips, Cole kissed the tip of his nose until he
quieted. “You can and you will, Geoff. When I get home and take it out I wanna
see my spunk in your ass. Then, when I fuck you again you’ll shoot a huge load
for me. I’ll know if you cheated, too, because your second shot is always next
to nothing.”

Blushing,
Geoffrey stifled a giggle. “Babe, you can’t expect me to wear this. I have a
conference call at four.”

Cole gave him
that mischievous smile he’d fallen in love the moment they met. The one he woke
up to every morning since the third week they’d started dating and he’s asked
Cole to move in with him.

“Babe, I’m not
kidding. This whole scene was your idea anyway. And you know our rule. The
scene isn’t over till we both come. So don’t be backing out now.” He gave him a
light peck on the lips and stepped away, retrieving Geoffrey’s clothing from
the floor.

True, he had
planned the rendezvous—not necessarily all the details, but he’d told Cole this
morning to be ready for a surprise at work.

Life often got
in the way of romance, sometimes ending the passion of a once fiery
relationship. When Cold first moved in, they had taken great delight in
inventing new scenes. Hell, keeping their relationship a secret from the people
at work still turned them on. Like the time Cole fucked him in the broom closet
and ten minutes later they had to pretend they were casual acquaintances while
they talked to the building owner. Even now, the memory made his dick leak.

Unfortunately,
it had been a few months since they’d done anything adventurous and he’d feared
their spark had begun to fizzle. Cole’s mom broke her leg in a horseback riding
accident and he’d been taking care of her, the horses
and
all the
summertime chores at her place. Geoffrey felt like he hadn’t seen his partner
in ages. But if he learned one thing living with a man who could fix anything
and everything mechanical, the key to longevity with most things was proper
maintenance.

That’s why
Geoffrey decided their relationship could benefit from a little unscheduled
maintenance, too.

If the
tenderness in the warm arms encircling him were any indicator, he’d been right.

Cole kissed him
softly. “Thank you for this, babe. I really needed it.”

“Me, too. I’ve
missed you,” he whispered, shuddering when his wanting cock brushed the seam of
Cole’s jeans. Unable to resist, he pressed against him.

“Ah-ah,” he
admonished, moving out of reach. “Don’t try it. You’re not allowed to cum.”

“But what about
the plug?” His fingers moved restlessly against his lover’s forearm, circling
Cole’s latest tattoo which matched the one Geoffrey bore on his own left
forearm. A distinctive Irish Claddagh, two hands holding a heart with a crown.
Marital symbols of friendship, love and loyalty. A symbol of their commitment
to each other.

“Forget about
the plug.”

“Easy for you
to say,” he grumbled as he slid on his dress shirt.

Cole arched
that one brow and gave him the
look
. “Maybe you could’ve sweet talked me
into a blow-job or taking that thing out if I’d known about the box of sex toys
you’ve been hiding at your office.”

He blushed.
“You know how horny I get sometimes.”

His partner
chuckled. “I do.”

While nothing
could be more embarrassing than your partner discovering your secret stash of
sex toys, right now, the predicament Cole placed him in worried him more. “I
really have to keep it in till we get home?”

“Yup,” Cole
said absently, tossing him his trousers. “Hurry up and put your clothes back on
before Tiffany starts calling again.”

“You’re really
not gonna let me come?”

Cole laughed. “
Let
you
? You act like you don’t love it.”

He let out a
resigned sigh. Who was he trying to kid? They both knew he loved it.

Geoffrey
carefully pulled up his pants so as not to twist the plug any more than
necessary. He tucked his shirt in and positioned his erection inconspicuously
under his waistband, hoping it was camouflaged.

“I can barely
tell you’re hard,” Cole said when he noticed Geoffrey inspecting himself. Then
he came closer and gave him a hot kiss, wickedly pressing on the plug with the
flat of his hand.

Geoffrey
whimpered but before Cole caused an undesired effect, he stepped back and gave
him an impish smile. “Love you, babe.”

He returned his
partner’s smile, knowing that while the rest of the afternoon might prove
difficult, the reward tonight would make up for any embarrassment or
discomfort. “I love you, too, Cole.”

As he finished
dressing, Cole returned to the toy box and withdrew a pair of leather wrist
restraints. “You’re a lot kinkier than you’ve let on, babe. Maybe this box
should come home with us tonight and you can show me your favorites.”

Geoffrey nodded
eagerly. “Deal.”

THE END

Author bio:
Bestselling erotica author Deanna
Wadsworth leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her hubby of 14 years and
three demanding little dogs. She has a fascination with the exotic and taboo
but it is her love of love in all its stages and incarnations which made her an
erotica and m/m author. Deanna’s first release, an erotic retelling of the
fairy tale RED RIDING HOOD, ranked 15th on Amazon Bestsellers Lists. Her
holiday m/m short story SECRET SANTA was featured in Decadent Publishing's READ
FOR A CURE and raised over $500 for The American Cancer Society Relay for Life.

You
can find her online here:

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1...

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/#!/DeannaWadsworth

Blog:
http://deannawadsworth.blogspot.com

Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/426...

Selected by Stuart
Wakefield

Dear Author,

I am intrigued with this
photo and these men. They are uniquely individual, but together they are power
and magic. I imagine they are not quite of this world. Though what that world
would be and who they are within it, is your story to tell.

[PHOTO: Three gorgeous men
lie
with heads together, two facing one way, the other
between them reversed. Their intent eyes gaze up out of the picture. One's
dark-skinned, curly haired, full featured with dark eyes. The next's a
pale-skinned brunet with blue eyes. The last has more olive skin and dark eyes.
They touch hands lightly, the connection between them palpable.]

(one minor deet - I'm really not much of a D/s or BDSM fan)

Sincerely,

L.C.

Genre:
sci-fi, fantasy, ménage

Tags:
threesome, friends to lovers,
firefighter, futuristic, magic

Words:
3,632

THE ELEMENTS OF
LOVE

by Stuart
Wakefield

The first tremor
touched my unconscious mind and hauled me back from a dream of crashing waves.
My eyes flickered open at the second tremor and I knew the latest attack was
upon us.

I pulled myself
up from my bunk in the fire-station's dormitory, crossed to the exterior wall,
and slammed the window shield control with my open hand. The shield's
click-clack ascent fuelled my impatience and I crouched down, hoping to see
nothing awry and dismiss it as a bad dream. Cursing softly under my breath, I
rubbed the dirty glass, making a gap in the grime large enough to see through.

The third
tremor pulsed through my legs and tugged on my guts. I peered out over the
city, the dawn light igniting the edges of the clean, white buildings beyond. I
saw no unusual movement.

Where was it?

Snatching a
power lens from my belt, I scanned the bay. There was a disturbance in the
water, a series of interruptions to the artificial, glassy stillness of the
surface. That was our first, visual line of defense from Oceanica; the water's
surface held in place by force fields. I zoomed in, the lens connected to the
data hub, and the HUD burst into life. But still nothing recognizable.

An additional
connection to the building's scanner array kicked in and deep-sensor data
dropped in over the display. Something big was approaching the shoreline.
Graphics processors modeled it. Broad vectors roughed in its awesome size.

It had legs,
like those before it. Every time one of its gigantic limbs connected with the
seabed I felt a tremor. As I crossed the room to punch the alarm and rouse my
colleagues, I wondered when the rest of the city would be alerted.

The siren
sounded, its screech waking the rest of the building. More sirens wailed in the
distance, in the direction of the shoreline. The deep-sensor array's AI had
alerted the City Defense Network to the approaching monstrosity. Men and women
lurched from sleep around me, pulling on their cranial receivers for the latest
incident information broadcast. I reached for my own and signaled my crew down
the jump tubes to the control room.

As I arrived
the briefing began. Chief Flood, square-jawed and silver-haired, drew
everyone's attention like a black hole consumes light. "Initial data is
unclear but City Defense Network personnel are almost on the scene. They'll
need our backup. Fire engines and mecha are to proceed to the beach but keep
your distance – I don't want any of you taking hits that are meant for the
Network." He waved us away. "Move out."

Personnel
spilled from the room and exchanged concerned looks.

Lewis caught up
with me, looking troubled. "
Why's the CDN needing
backup anyways? They got all the toys to make the thing go 'boom'!"

"We're all
working to save people, Lew; we put out the fires their 'booms' make."

Theories
surrounding the attacks ranged from holy punishment for not observing the
Sabbath, to the belief that the city was cursed to descend through seven
gateways into the underworld. For decades now, all cities bore a number but the
inhabitants named them anyway. This city, my city, was known as Atlantica. Its
citizens seemed intent on denying the fact that the attacks were simply hunting
expeditions initiated by the submerged city hundreds of miles away. Oceanica
wanted one thing - one weapon that would give them total control of the
planet's water - and they knew Atlantica harbored it. No, they found it easier
to wrap this knowledge in religious hysteria and that suited the ruling church
just fine.

Lewis and I
headed for the mecha silo in silence. I ran through a mental checklist of
safety procedures. The garage smelled of grease and damp, a line of three mecha
stood inactive at the far end. The sight of them always impressed me.

Drew, out third
team member, was already in her mech, her eyes blazed with excitement.
"Come on, boys. The CDN have got a fight on their hands!"

Climbing into
my mech's chest cavity, I fixed the harness across my chest and waist, and
locked my boots into the stirrups. Grabbing a joystick in each hand, I flexed
the arms of the unit. One arm housed
a water
cannon,
the other an array of power cutters, drills, and a welding arc.

The silo door
opened with a thunderous roar. Flanked on either side by Lewis and Drew, I
directed my mech out onto the city streets and headed for the shoreline. A few
meters in the beach's direction and I heard a crunch behind me.

I craned my
head around. "What's going on?"

Lewis swore
loudly. "Fuck! Can't walk no more. Can you see anything?"

Drew's voice
cut in. "You're pissing fluid from your hydraulics, Lew."

There was no
time. "Go back and get aboard an engine," I ordered him. "We'll
move on."

Several CDN
cruisers passed us as Drew and I continued forwards, the loud-hailers
instructing curious citizens to return home. Some turned back but most ignored
them and tailed the cruisers in the direction of the shore.