Speed King (Men of Action)

by Ahren Sanders

  A different heat creeps up my cheeks, and I’m glad it’s dark. Achilles is bigger, strong, and much more experienced than me. Outside of a few stolen moments, he’s always taken control when we make love. He’s an expert at commanding my body. Only twice have I seen him on the verge of losing his cool, and somehow, he always reels it in, scared he’s going to hurt me. I’ve willingly given in to him, knowing he needs it. But this morning, I want to give him what he gives me and feel the ecstasy of anticipation.

  I unlink our hands and brace on his chest, rocking up to find his mouth and sweep my lips across his. “Usually, it starts with you carrying me into the bathroom, wrapped around you. When you set me on my feet, your eyes always roam over me with a look I can’t describe.”

  My lips move to the column of his throat, traveling down until they’re right over his pec muscle. The tip of my tongue licks around his nipple, then traces the tattoos I’ve memorized.

  “You hold me close if the water is too cold until it is just right.”

  I continue to move lower, covering every inch of his torso with my mouth.

  “I love it when you place me under the spray of water, running your hands through my hair, kissing me gently until we’re both soaked.”

  My legs slide to the side of his thighs, and I grind over his cock before continuing my descent and leaning back on my knees.

  “I love it when you insist on lathering every inch of my skin using your hands.” I mimic the action by skimming my hands across his chest and down his torso, feeling the ripple of his muscles flex under my palms.

  My lips finally reach the tip of his crown, closing over it. The first taste of him is incredible. His skin is smooth and hot, firm and silky… his length pulsing at my touch. I whimper, running my tongue up and down the length, gently kissing the flesh.

  “Baby, get your ass back up here,” he demands harshly.

  I shake my head and make a ‘Nuh-uh’ sound, sucking him slowly in, then circling with my tongue. His hands go to my shoulders, pressuring me to come to him, but I resist, continuing with my story. “You watch me wash my hair, still touching me, not taking your eyes off. So intimate and personal, knowing I belong to you.”

  “Fuck me,” he hisses, his hands gone as he twists and the lamp clicks on. My eyes adjust quickly, and when I raise them up, a flood of craving and lust races through my veins. He’s staring at me with a savage hunger, his face set in a way I know too well. He’s on that verge, and the look intensifies when I suck him deeper, my throat opening to allow his length as far as it will go.

  I say no more, dropping my eyes and concentrating on getting all of him. Before Achilles, my limited experience with make-out sessions gave me an idea of the guy’s size. None of that comes close to comparing. He’s exactly what I’d imagine with a man of his stature—long, thick, and the skin like silky satin on my tongue.

  My knees press into the mattress, and I shift, sliding a hand between us to lightly caress his balls before gripping the base. His hips jerk and twist, a low rumble filling the room. The sound sets something off inside—something primal and illuminating. The need to be in control. I move quicker, worshipping him as he’s done to me countless times. I angle to the side and swirl my tongue around his hot flesh, gliding through the tip.

  “Jesus… fuck…” he draws out, swelling thicker.

  I peer up and instantly feel my skin scorching. He’s still watching me. His eyes are smoldering with glittery specks of shimmering gold. His chest is rising quickly, his muscles rippled and strained.

  My nipples tingle, my stomach clenches, and my knees threaten to buckle at the electric current between us. I’ve wanted nothing so much in my life as I want this right now. The power of knowing he’s at my mercy drives me harder. I break the stare, close my mouth once more, hollow my cheeks as much as possible, and swallow him until he hits the back of my throat. It’s easy to find a rhythm and take cues from the way he responds.

  The memory of the other morning comes to mind, the way he devoured me mercilessly. Never slowing until I was begging.

  Now’s my turn. I suck deep and then slide my tongue up his hard length to twirl it around his piercing. He jerks and growls out, “Harley, baby, give me your pussy.”

  I shake my head, swallowing him again and picking up speed. His hand threads through my hair, his hips surging up.

  “Going to fucking blow. Feels goddamn good.”

  I savor everything about this. His taste, the velvety smooth flesh, the trembling against my lips.

  When I think he may be close, I press my fingers gently into the tender flesh under his balls and feel them tighten.

  His body tenses and hips thrust upward twice. I barely feel the first jet of his release before he knifes up and I’m flying backward, his arms circling me.

  “Holy motherfucking shit,” he roars, his chest heaving as he cradles me close. Warmth seeps through my shirt, his cock pulsating.

  I’m too stunned to speak, shocked at how fast he moved. His face goes to my shoulder, and his teeth graze my collarbone, nipping along the tendon at my neck.

  “Achilles?”

  “Quiet, Harley,” he clips starkly.

  The electrifying joy from a few minutes ago dies. My heart jumps at the anger in his tone. I have no choice but to hold tight until his breathing slows.

  “Tell me that was only for me.”

  Confusion clouds my brain, and I try to wiggle free. It’s useless, especially when he cups my chin, bringing my face to his. My stomach twists and plummets at the ferocity of his expression.

  “Please, tell me that was mine,” he repeats somberly.

  His statement cuts through my brain haze, and I want to beat him and kiss him at the same time. He knows he’s the only man I’ve ever been with, but it never occurred to me he didn’t know the extent of my inexperience.

  “That was yours.”

  “Good answer, baby. Because the thought of you on your knees for anyone else makes me insane.”

  I suck in a deep breath, count to five, then blow it out to stop from screaming my head off. “It may be the last time you ever see me on my knees if you don’t stop being a barbarian.”

  All anger vanishes, and his lips curl into a sly grin. “You give great fucking head. Two minutes and I was ready to blow.”

  My sense of jealousy roars in my blood, and I squirm to get free—unsuccessfully. “I don’t even want to know how many women you can compare—”

  “None,” he cuts me off, sweeping his mouth over mine.

  My body jerks and all the air seeps out of my lungs. “Really?”

  “Never.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I waited for you.”

  “How can you say that? You weren’t a virgin our first time.”

  “No, I wasn’t a virgin.”

  “But you’ve never had a blow job?”

  “Until a few minutes ago, I’d never had a blow job.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “Because of you.”

  “Me? That makes little sense.”

  He lets out a breath, his beautiful face filling with something I can’t read.

  “Tell me,” I breathe out in awe.

  “Senior year of high school, Dana Meers’ party. She’d been working me all night, flirting her ass off, shooting me looks that said it all. I went to take a leak and she caught me from behind, yanking me into what I guessed was her brother’s room. In less than a second, she was all over me, grinding herself on my dick. She dropped to her knees, pulled my cock out, and then I heard your voice. You were with some chick in the hall, and you were looking for me. My name on your lips filled my brain, and all I could see below me was your gorgeous face. I couldn’t let her suck my cock. It was too intimate. I stood her up, righted my clothes, and told her it wasn’t happening. I went to find you.”

  A nasty taste fills my mouth at the memory. “She told everyone you slept together.”

  “She want
ed to save face, and I didn’t care to embarrass her further.”

  “You took me to prom two weeks later.”

  “I did. Figured that sent a message.”

  “That explains why Dana Meers hated me from that night on.”

  “It makes me the worst kind of asshole, but Dana’s not the only one. I’ve had my fair share of women, but I was always removed. That piece of intimacy was yours.”

  My throat closes as his words settle over me. I’m thrilled and sad at the same time. I try not to think of the times he pushed me away, but this is another reminder of all the years we lost. He picks up on my change of mood, his arm slanting across my back to press me close.

  “You’ll always have that, Harley.”

  I barely nod, dropping my gaze.

  He tilts my chin, ducking into my line of sight. “Right, more proof I’m an asshole. Never had sex without a condom, sometimes doubling up until you. Never made love to a woman in my life until you. Never understood the appeal of eating pussy until that first taste of you. Now I crave your taste on my tongue. Tits and ass never caught my attention. The picture of you bending over that bar in Jewls’ tight shirt changed that. You don’t even have to be near, and my dick gets hard thinking about the way your body fits to mine. That fucking scrap of material you wore the first weekend here… fuck that. Full-on need to jack my shit to get beyond it.”

  “So, you like sex with me.”

  “It’s more than sex. We’ve fucked hard, baby, but each time I come inside you, I slow it down, savoring what a lucky fucking bastard I am. Waited a lifetime to have this, and I’m not stupid enough to miss it.”

  My eyes pop wide, understanding washing over me. He does that, every time. We can be wild, but in the end, he always turns gentle. “I love that.”

  “All that hair, tits, ass, those legs wrapped around my waist as I pound into you. Never want to come, want it to last forever. See you fly apart as many times as possible. Then you clench around me, pulling me in, and I know I’m the only man that will ever get this. It’s a fucking gift. Hopefully, you understand that when you suck my cock into your mouth, no woman will ever have that from me.”

  A weird sense of empowerment comes over me, and I lean in to pull his bottom lip through my teeth. “That’s a lot of pressure. You’ll never know if I’m good.”

  “I’m fucking lucky you’re an absolute natural.”

  My skin blushes at the compliment. It’s one thing to be in the heat of the moment, but things didn’t go exactly as planned. “Thanks,” I murmur.

  “You do not know how hot it was—“

  “Stop.” I try to look away but I’m trapped.

  “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  “You ripped me off right as things were getting good. Then you acted like an insane lunatic.”

  “Let’s say I temporarily lost my mind with jealousy. Baby, you worked me like a pro. Looking down and watching you swallow my cock was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Dreams came true.”

  That was sweet, but I’m still shy. “Can we not do a play-by-play?”

  “Sure, the mental image is enough to keep me hard as a rock.” He’s full out smiling now—amused, happy, playful. His legs go out from behind me, swinging over the bed as he stands, easily adjusting me. “Since we’re both dirty, it’s time for a shower.”

  15

  Ace

  I take the corner to our street, slowing my pace to a jog and checking the time. The southern rock music blaring in my ears is interrupted with the familiar tone notifying me someone’s at our door. I don’t recognize the newer model Yukon in the driveway, but the form of the man waiting on the porch is unmistakable.

  He turns, watching me running his way. I use the minute to take him in. One thing to say is sobriety has been good to my dad. When he limped away from the bottle, he turned his life around and got healthy and fit.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” I grab the towel on the rail and wipe my face.

  “Jesus, Ace, look at you.”

  “I’m aware of what I look like,” I growl the response under his judging eyes that are gaping at my tattoos with disapproval.

  His chin juts out, and his expression changes. “That’s not what I meant. You’re jacked, like seriously built. How much time do you spend a day working out?”

  The irritation slides away, and I hook the towel around my neck. “You saw me a few months ago. Nothing has changed.”

  “I haven’t seen you without a shirt. The clothes cover it up. Knew you had a few tattoos, but not to this extent. Nice ink.”

  “Thanks, but again, what are you doing here?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “About what?”

  “It would be nice to take this inside.”

  The last thing I want to do is have a chat with my estranged father, but I punch in my code to the door and motion for him to follow me.

  He whistles loud, undoubtedly impressed with the house. “This place… wow.”

  “You like my house, my body, and my tats. Now what do we need to talk about?”

  He stops looking around, his gaze locking with mine with the familiar regret staring back. Shit, here we fucking go.

  “Achilles, I’m sorry.”

  “We’re past this.”

  “Are we?”

  “Yeah, seeing as I’ve accepted your apology the last nine years.”

  “It doesn’t seem like you accept it when you’re keeping this massive wedge between us.”

  “There’s no wedge.”

  “You’ve been back in Nashville quite a while and seen your mother twice. You graduated from the Police Academy without as much as notifying us. I can understand you having resentment toward me, but this is killing Sandy. She’ll do anything to have you back in her life. Please stop making her pay for my mistakes.”

  Guilt slams into me full force. “I’m not making her pay for anything.”

  “Then why won’t you at least take your mother’s calls?”

  “We text.” It’s a stupid comeback, but it’s the truth.

  “You’re not a parent, but when you are, you’ll understand. I’ll stay away if it means you’ll give your mom the time of day.”

  Dad was a drunk. A stupid, sloppy drunk unable to beat back the disease. And I’ve held it against him even when others could forgive.

  “I’m a different man and wish you would give me a chance to prove it.” There’s desperation in his voice that stirs deep inside.

  “I almost lost everything by stepping in that fight to help you out.”

  “I’ll live with that on my soul forever.”

  “Could have gone to juvie, or worse. Fucked up my chance at a future. If it wasn’t for Rich, I don’t know what would have happened. Where I’d be right now.” Acid bleeds into my words.

  “Fucking finally.”

  “What?”

  “Fucking finally, you’re ready to hash it out. All these years, you’ve kept the rage and bitterness inside. I’ve been waiting… no, I’ve been praying for this chance since the day I went to rehab.”

  “You don’t know what rage is.”

  “Then tell me.” He throws his arms wide to his sides. “Unleash that Achilles temper. Give it to me, I can take it. I deserve it. Shit, I welcome the anger just to be in the same room with you.”

  “I’m not unleashing.”

  “Respect.”

  “What about respect?”

  “That respect you carry is one of many badges of honor. Even before the military, you knew the meaning of respect.”

  “Kind of an odd time to notice that.”

  “You won’t unleash on me out of respect. And, in turn, we can’t get past it until you let it all out. Right now, forget I’m your old man—unload the hate and anger.”

  Years of pent-up anger roll through my head, my body stringing tight. Dad’s look is a mix of expectation and fear. He’s prepared for the worst. I prop my hands on my hips and glance to the side.
>
  My eyes instantly zero in on the sports bottle on the counter filled with pink liquid. Harley’s energy drink. I inhale, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. I check my phone, and there are no notifications from my alarm app showing how she got in.

  I shelve that for later; knowing she’s close wipes out the anger. Her face flashes in my mind. How I avoided her, letting my stubborn streak win out. Years lost with her suffering at the result of my actions. No games, no drawn-out resentment, no time wasted. She forgave me. Let it all go. Accepted me as I am.

  Something inside me shifts, and a sense of peace settles. All the things I’ve wanted to say to him no longer seem relevant. It’s over. I’m my own man with my future planned out. A future that includes the woman down the hall undoubtedly working her way to a nervous breakdown.

  I look back, and he’s clearly preparing for the worst. “Since the day I enlisted and hit the road to boot camp, I’ve been around people who have courage. So much fucking courage it’s a part of their soul. I’d like to be half the person some of my brothers are. Especially the ones who didn’t make it home.”

  He drops his eyes to the floor, but not before I catch the glistening. Then I hear a tiny whimper from the back of the hall.

  It’s time to give it to him straight and move on. “You were sick with a disease. I hope like hell I never know what that feels like, but at the end of the day, you got help. That takes a special kind of courage. Courage is something I respect more than anything. I’ve spent years trying to work my resentment out of my system. And you’re right, I may have accepted your apology, but there was a deep-rooted animosity that lingered. Dad, I’m not unloading on you. That’s not the answer and won’t solve anything. I’m forgiving you and wiping the slate.”

  The word slate is barely out of my mouth when he’s in my face, yanking me into a hug. I can’t remember the last time we did this. Twelve years ago? Fifteen? It’s been a firm handshake between us for as long as I can remember.

  “Goddamn, son, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that. Fucking proud of you.”