“No,” he hoarsely said. “Look at me. I want to see you’re with me.”
Alan looked up, their gazes locked as his tongue and lips worked at his stiff shaft. Jerald wound his fingers through the other man’s wet hair as he thrust his hips in time with Alan’s movements.
He felt connected to him. Something he’d never felt with his ex. Or anyone else.
Ever.
Jerald had always felt Kate was somewhere else when making love to her. She wanted the lights off and never did it in the daytime. He barely remembered what she looked like naked. He could count on both hands the number of times she went down on him during their marriage. Usually only once a year, on their anniversary. She made it seem like she did him some big fucking favor for even considering it.
Because of his hangover, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it, but his balls tightened as his orgasm spiraled from somewhere deep inside him.
“I’m coming,” he gasped.
Alan never looked away. He took him deeper into his mouth as he reached behind Jerald and grabbed his ass. As he felt the explosion rip through his balls, he let out a loud moan while he watched Alan watching him come, watched Alan’s throat work as he swallowed.
After a moment Alan rocked back on his heels. “Better?”
“Holy fuck.”
“Is that a good holy fuck, or a
what the fuck did I just do
holy fuck?”
“Both.”
Alan arched an eyebrow at him. “Should I take care of myself, or would you like to help?”
Coherent thought slowly returned to his brain. Jerald heard himself say, “I’d like to help.”
Alan didn’t look away as he stood and pressed close. He grabbed Jerald’s hand and put it on his cock. “How about I go easy on you and you let me do the heavy work?” Then he leaned in and kissed Jerald as he wrapped his own hand around Jerald’s, holding it on his shaft.
Alan thrust his hips, fucking Jerald’s hand. After a few minutes Jerald regained enough of his senses to help. As Jerald took control, Alan released his hand and held on to Jerald’s shoulders for balance. Jerald used both hands, one on Alan’s cock, the other on his balls.
“Look at me,” Jerald grunted. “I want to see your face when you come.”
Alan tipped his head back. Jerald studied him, wanting that feeling back, that connection of a moment ago.
To feel connected to another human being in a way he never had before.
Alan was there, with him.
It took his breath away.
He watched as Alan’s lips parted, his skin flushed. Then his thrusts quickened, more jerky. “I’m almost there.”
Jerald squeezed harder as Alan cried out, his hot juices coating Jerald’s hands.
Alan rested his head against his chest as Jerald enveloped him in his arms and held him for several long, silent minutes. He didn’t miss how good Alan felt in his arms.
“What now?” Jerald croaked, still not sure how he’d gotten to this point, and yet knowing he could never go back.
He didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to lose that connection with Alan.
Alan laughed as he looked up. “Whatever you want, man. I told you, what happens here stays here.” His gaze flicked over Jerald’s face, studying him. “Unless you want to do something when we get home. Then I’m happy to oblige you there, too. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wanted to kiss Alan again. He wanted to taste him, feel his stubbly cheek coarse against his own, run his fingers over the sandpaper texture on his face. He slanted his lips over Alan’s and kissed, nipping, biting, deep and hungry.
He didn’t want to lose him and didn’t know how to hold on to him.
He just knew he had to for his own sanity.
They never made it back out on the boat the rest of the trip. After their shower, they returned to Alan’s bed. Alan grabbed a towel, a bottle of lube, and a box of condoms. Then he spent nearly half an hour playing with Jerald, teasing him and slowly loosening his virgin ass with his fingers, playfully torturing him before he finally rolled a condom onto himself.
“You ready?” Alan asked.
Jerald didn’t trust his voice. He nodded.
He felt Alan press his thick cockhead against his puckered rim. Then Alan smiled down at him. “I’ll be honest. I hope I’m the only guy who ever gets to do this to you.” He pressed forward, breaching his ass, slowly seating himself inside Jerald until his thighs lay against his.
Jerald, on his back with his knees to his chest, stared up into Alan’s big brown eyes.
“You okay?” Alan asked.
Jerald nodded. He felt a hell of a lot better than okay.
He’d never imagined this side of Alan, taking charge, his quiet confidence and security.
“I’m going to fuck you, then you can fuck me, okay?”
Jerald nodded, lost in Alan’s gaze.
The corners of Alan’s mouth curled into a sexy, playful smile. “I have a feeling you’ll normally want to be on top. I don’t mind bottoming, as long as you let me have a turn on top every once in a while.”
“Do you always talk this much during sex?”
Alan grabbed Jerald’s thighs and took a deeper stroke that hit a sweet spot inside him and nearly sent him over the top. “Only when I don’t have a nice, hard cock in my mouth to suck.”
Jerald’s heart raced as he watched Alan’s climax build. “I don’t want to share you,” he blurted out.
Alan stopped, his smile broadening. “Well, buddy, you’re in luck. I’ve been stuck in a dry spell the past six months, and I tend to enjoy the monogamous lifestyle.”
“What about the rubbers and lube you brought?”
He shrugged and took another long, slow stroke. “Be prepared, that’s my motto. You complaining?”
“No.”
Jerald held onto Alan’s arms as he fucked him, felt Alan’s muscles tense as he drew closer to his release. Alan’s lower lip caught under his front teeth as his whole body trembled. He thrust harder, faster, then let out a loud cry as he came.
Almost too fast he pulled out, leaving Jerald feeling empty. He tried to keep him there. “Where are you going?”
Alan leaned in and kissed him. “Condom. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
A moment later, he was.
One thing Jerald quickly learned, Alan always did what he said he would.
Alan rolled over in his sleep, throwing an arm around Jerald and bringing his thoughts back to the present. For over two years now, Alan had shown nothing but patience with him. The worst he thought would be when any of his fellow Marine Patrol officers found out about him and Alan. Only one guy, a jerk named Mark Jackson, tried to bust his chops about it.
“What’s up with you and that guide, Walker?” Jackson said to him late one Sunday afternoon while they stood on the dock waiting to check more boats. Alan’s boat had appeared in the marina basin, prompting the jerk’s comment. “You two fuck buddies or something?” From the man’s tone of voice, Jerald knew Jackson thought he was being funny, busting his balls.
Thankful for his mirrored sunglasses, which hid the anger in his eyes, he slowly turned on Jackson. “Alan’s my boyfriend,” he softly said. “You got a fucking problem with that?” His heart raced. This was four months into their relationship, and the first time he’d openly confessed it to anyone he worked with.
Admittedly, he enjoyed the priceless look of shock on the other officer’s face. “Um, no. No problem. Sorry, man, I didn’t know. I was just kidding around.”
“Shut the fuck up before you dig yourself a deeper hole and I kick your ass into it.”
He did.
Alan even good-naturedly put up with him checking his catch more than the other guides, in his early attempts to prove he wasn’t showing him any favoritism.
He closed his eyes as he lay in bed, Alan asleep next to him. Alan always calmed him, just by his very nature. Jerald never felt stressed when with him. Alan always knew when to stay quiet and let him unwind in his own way from an overwhelming day.
He always had the right words to say to Jerald, knew when to offer him a backrub or a blowjob, when to make him laugh, when to lend an ear.
For the first time in his life, he felt like he had someone who had absolutely no intention of letting him go. Who wanted to be with him and wasn’t there simply because of some perceived obligation.
Family.
Jerald settled in and, with the sound of Alan’s slow and steady breathing to lull him, tried to sleep.
Chapter Three
Daphne didn’t know exactly what time she hit the water or how long she’d been in, but it seemed like the lights on the shoreline didn’t get any closer. On top of that, the seas started to build. She felt the waves pick her up and carry her, sometimes swamping her. She had to be careful not to swallow sea water through the snorkel.
I’m in the middle of a freaking ocean, and I’m thirsty.
She didn’t dare drink, knowing what it would do to her body if she did.
Fear hadn’t set in, yet. She wouldn’t let it. If she died—something not on her daily to-do list—it wouldn’t be because of Paulie Scorsini.
What she’d do when she got back to dry land was another matter entirely. Nothing but her say so against everyone on both boats that they’d killed a guy. She couldn’t even begin to tell authorities the victim’s name or where to look for his body.
Several times she had to flip over on her back and float for a while to rest. Staring up into the cloudy night sky, she hoped to find the strength to go on. No one would come identify her body if she washed up somewhere.
She had no one.
For that reason alone, she damn sure wouldn’t let the fuckhead win by dying out here.
At some point before dawn, she felt the winds start to kick up. As grey light crept into the eastern sky, she thought she saw land but couldn’t be sure. Despite the warm water, she felt herself shivering from hypothermia. When she caught a wave just right and it carried her on the crest, she spotted the dark shapes of land, maybe a mile or two away. Dropped into a trough, she started laughing, then screamed when her feet hit something. Only when it happened again and she put her legs down did she realize the water was just a little deeper than she was tall. Something broke loose inside her. She scrambled, frantic, half-swimming and half-running through the water to get closer to land.
Unfortunately, the waves made her job difficult. As dawn broke with a grey and overcast sky, the waves threw her onto a rocky oyster bar. Despite her feet getting cut, she stood up, the water at chest level. She laughed almost maniacally as she took several long, deep breaths and shivered in the wind. Land had grown closer. She didn’t see any houses, just what looked like wilderness, but it was land.
Then another large wave overtopped the oyster bar, pushing her off toward the coastline.
Her hope renewed, she swam her ass off.
After a while, as the waves picked up even more, and with her feet and legs cut to hell and back by the oyster beds, she gave up trying to fight her way to shore. The current and wind seemed to be carrying her in that direction, so she let them do the work for her. She felt exhausted, thirsty, cold, and all out of fight. She flipped onto her back to float and let the waves carry her toward the sawgrass flats becoming visible in the morning light.
* * * *
The alarm went off at four the next morning. Alan rolled over and blindly slapped at it without opening his eyes.
He felt Jerald sit up next to him. “Want to go back to sleep? I’ll wake you before I leave, let you sleep in a little.”
Alan rolled over and peeled back an eyelid. “No, I’m getting up.”
“Another drawback if I live here, you know. My crazy hours.”
“No crazier than mine, chickenshit. Getting up with you means I have time for an extra cup of coffee in the morning and someone to scrub my back in the shower,” Alan joked.
“What time tonight?”
Alan had to think for a moment, sleep still fogging his brain. “What time tonight what?”
“Tom Kelly’s barbecue.” Jerald walked into the bathroom without bothering to shut the door. “You still want to go, right?” he called back.
Alan’s heart raced in a good way, now wide awake. “Yeah. If you do.” He tried to make it sound casual.
“Yeah, but only if you go make me some coffee.”
Alan smiled as he jumped out of bed to do it. He heard the shower start.
Finally, some
progress.
He’d forced himself not to push Jerald. Last night’s confrontation was a fluke, his frustration overwhelming him.
Only it had paid off.
He waited until enough coffee gurgled into the pot to pour Jerald a mug, black. He carried the mug into the bathroom, where he climbed into the shower with him.
Jerald’s blue eyes looked worried. “You won’t cancel your charter? I can’t talk you into not going out?”
“I’ll be safe.”
“If I’m living here, I’ll be nagging you about bad weather.”