by BA Tortuga
“Okay.” Morgan winked. “I’ll bring jeans, jeans, and those charming little jeans you picked up for me.”
Well… the man’s ass looked good in denim.
“Guilty. I do love your butt, sugar.” Max proved it by squeezing said ass, which was firm and resilient.
“Mmm. Good to know.” Morgan stretched up, took a kiss. “I won’t be but a minute. Packing to go play is a superpower of mine.”
“Good. I’ll start getting the house closed up. We’ll drop the dogs with Alan.” Yeah. Yeah, they’d hit the road, have an adventure.
He could hear Morgan’s voice, warm and happy, echoing in the house. God, yes.
The house took only a minute or two to close up. Alan would use up any food that would go bad in three days, which wasn’t much. The dogs nosed his hands, licking and whining, knowing he was going again.
Morgan came down the stairs, managing to look classy in jeans and a skintight black turtleneck.
“Pretty pretty.” Damn. Max adjusted the front of his own jeans. “You ready?”
“I am.” Morgan stopped suddenly, grinned. “You know, this is the first time we’ve really gone somewhere in your truck.”
“It is. Aside from grocerying.” They’d made out in the driveway once too, much to Poe’s amusement. Lord, Lord. “Do we have drinks and shit to take?”
“You’re thinking about the blowjob you got in the driveway, aren’t you? With your old lover watching through the window….” Morgan chuckled, the wicked little smile making promises. “Naughty, naughty. I’ll grab some water from the kitchen.”
Morgan knew him so well. Poe had clapped him on the back when they came in and said, “You old dog, that looked fun,” and he and Morgan had gone into the bedroom and fucked like jackrabbits. He still blushed when he thought about it.
Of course, tonight he was going to have Morgan spread, decorated with his rings. That was more than a little blush-worthy itself.
He couldn’t wait. He hoped to God it would be all right to play with them tonight. It should be, as Morgan had been pierced already, but Max was no expert.
Morgan came back with a sack full of munchies and drinks, a banana half-eaten in his hand. “Okay, cowboy. Let’s go play.”
“Tease.” He wrapped an arm around Morgan’s waist, hauling him out, looking forward to the drive. He knew Morgan would bounce and point and make him see things he never had.
Morgan nodded, offered him a bite, before climbing up into the cab of his truck, tugging one of his old, heavy flannel shirts on for a jacket.
They headed out, the day clear and a little cold, but pretty enough to make things sparkle. He was bouncing a little himself, just grinning from ear to ear.
It was close enough to Christmas that there were decorations out in yards, and they spent most of the drive comparing them, discussing which they needed for their yard and what the dogs would be scared enough of not to eat.
The mutts had a great fondness for yard art. They chewed it to bitty bits.
The hotel was one of those places that had valet parking, and Max handed over the keys to his truck with a growled, “Not even a scratch, you hear?”
“Oh, that was very impressive.” Morgan grinned over at the valet. “He’s exceedingly fond of this vehicle, understand. It stands to inherit a great deal of money if it can avoid potholes and not throw a rod.”
“Bitch.” Popping Morgan on the ass, Max grabbed their bags out of the back. “Come on, you.”
Morgan’s laughter followed him in, the sound a little breathless, a little husky. “I’m right behind you, cowboy.”
Yeah. And they’d made it in time to get busy and have supper before they went to Morgan’s little appointment. Hoo, yeah. Max hurried through check-in, bouncing on the toes of his boots.
Morgan wasn’t being helpful at all, whispering little perversions, stealing touches, teasing him.
The key card took three tries, but the minute they got inside the suite, Max was on Morgan like white on rice, kissing so hard.
Morgan opened up for him, like to drive him crazy, all hungry and hot and eager.
He pressed Morgan against the door, half lifting him, his aching cock pressing against Morgan’s thigh. This man got to him, sent him like no one else.
Morgan’s fingers wrapped around his head, the skin smooth where Morgan’d shaved him last night.
Max shivered a little, his nipples going tight, his legs trembling. He moaned, not sure he could even get his pants open.
Morgan whispered against his lips—husky love words that didn’t mean anything and meant everything all at once.
They moved, turning in slow circles, Max supporting Morgan’s weight. He carried Morgan to the settee.
“Want.” Sharp teeth caught his bottom lip, tugging it and teasing him.
“I know, sugar. I want you too.” He flicked Morgan’s nipples with his thumbs, knowing the ribbed fabric of the turtleneck would heighten the sensation.
“Mmm. Miss the rings. Miss how you would tug, make me ache.”
“Uh-huh.” It teetered on the tip of his tongue, but he wanted it to be a surprise, so Max settled for repeating the motion without the cloth. Over and over.
“Cowboy….” Morgan arched up toward his mouth, fingers working his fly open, hunting his cock. “More. Don’t stop.”
“Not gonna… uhn.” His cock pushed right into Morgan’s hands as his jeans gave way, and Max rolled his hips, pinching Morgan’s nipples hard.
“Yes.” Morgan knew just how to touch him, how to squeeze and roll him in those long fingers to make him beg for it.
Bucking, his muscles just shaking, Max growled, bending to mark Morgan’s throat, sucking up a bruise. “So good, sugar.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Morgan’s fingers tightened, the little gasp that escaped as he sucked sweet as fuck.
They were gonna explode right into flames. Max just knew it. They’d burn up that pretty hotel, and then where would they be? He chuckled at his own thoughts.
“What do you want, Morgan?”
“Hmm?” Those dark eyes were dazed and needy, blinking up at him as Morgan’s fingers traced his lips.
“How do you want me? Want me to suck you? Want to fuck me? Ride me?” Max thought they all sounded good, but he wanted Morgan to choose.
Morgan laughed a little wildly, eyes just huge. “God yes. Everything, but I’ll ride you first.”
“Come on, then.” Yeah. God yeah. Max rolled off that silly little couch and onto the floor.
Morgan started tugging his shirt open, moaning and bending to lick his skin as it was exposed. Those teeth found his nipples, fingers tugging his jeans off his ass.
Clever Morgan, doing that naked thing. Max approved heartily. “Come on, sugar. Hurry.”
Morgan chuckled, swiped his tongue over the head of his prick, the heat making his thighs knot up.
His hips rolled, his ass clenching tight as he rose up off the floor. His chest and belly were like rock. Just the thought of watching Morgan get pierced, that and the feel of Morgan on him and around him all uninhibited and not worried or scared… damn.
“Hungry. Need you.” Morgan crawled up his belly, fingers in that wicked mouth for just a second, before he got to watch Morgan push them in that little hole.
Max couldn’t look away. Morgan mesmerized him, always had, but this was like when they’d first met. This was like before Morgan got taken away.
Not scared, not worried, not thinking—just wanting him, feeling and living—and fuck, it was something else. Morgan’s head was thrown back, throat working, his name moaned over and over.
Max touched, ran his hands over Morgan’s belly and chest, all the while watching those arm muscles move, watching as Morgan got himself ready. He pinched Morgan’s nipples again, hard.
“Cowboy!” Morgan jerked, lifted up, hand reaching for his prick. “Want. Now, Max. Now.”
“Uh-huh. Come on, sugar. Come on. Want you so bad.” His cock was jerking, his breath hitching in his c
hest. They didn’t go now, he’d lose it.
Morgan nodded, just sank down on him like a fucking dream, body squeezing and holding him.
A cry left him, tearing out of his throat. Then Max started babbling. “Morgan, sugar, oh. God. Yeah.”
“Uh-huh.” Morgan’s hands landed on his chest, pretty body riding him like he was a prize pony.
Max grabbed Morgan’s hips, pulling them into a faster rhythm, loving the feeling, the heat. Loving how Morgan’s skin bruised under his hands.
“Oh. Oh, just like….” Morgan gasped, jerking and moving a little faster, a little harder. “Just there. Cowboy.”
“Okay. Okay, sugar. There.” That little spot was easy to hit over and over now he’d found it.
Oh, wasn’t that pretty? Those eyes were focused on him, skin flushed a sweet rose.
Max lost it, his hips punching, his hands restless and grabby. His muscles bunched, his legs just shaking. He tried to hold back, but it was tough.
“Don’t close your eyes, love. Need to see it. You. Need to. Oh….” Morgan rippled, lips parting as that sweet ass clenched.
“Oh.” Eyes wide open, Max grabbed Morgan’s cock, needing. “Come on.”
“Yes….” Heat sprayed over his wrist, the heady male scent and Morgan’s cries enough to make him dizzy.
So was the pressure of Morgan’s body around him. Max just shot like crazy, his cock throbbing, his head about to fly off.
“Love. Damn. I…. Wow.” Morgan slumped down against him, panting, tongue sliding over his chest.
“Uh-huh. You blow me away, sugar. You surely do.” His very own Morgan. A man could die happy.
“Good. You’re stuck with me.”
Morgan sounded sure about that, determined.
“I’m counting on it,” he said, thinking about later tonight and how that would kinda make it official. “I’m counting on it.”
THEY HAD bathed and walked, wandered and eaten and looked in random windows. It wasn’t Rio, but it was fascinating. Max knew this city, nodded and tipped a hat to people, seemed completely at ease.
It suited the man better than being a tourist did.
Every so often Max’s hand would brush his ass, his waist, just tiny, barely there touches, but they sensitized his skin, made him vibrate.
“Where next, cowboy?” He could still taste the whiskey on Max’s tongue after the quick, hard kiss in a dark alleyway, the smoke and burn of it on those lips.
“Mmm. We got an appointment, sugar,” Max said, starting to steer him down a street a little darker than the rest.
“An appointment? With who?” He followed, looking at the neon and the chintzy tinsel decoration.
“You’ll see.” He got this smile that made him go poing, Max almost bouncing with what looked like anticipation.
“You tease! Keeping secrets!” They moved faster, and he couldn’t stop laughing, Max’s excitement contagious.
“You know it.”
Pretty much everything was closed down here, only a few bars and such open, so Max must have felt safe to grab his hand and swing it. They went another block before Max stopped in front of a violently turquoise door and knocked sharply.
“I’m not starring in Behind the Turquoise Door, am I?” Although somehow he didn’t think Max was the type to want him in a porno….
“Well, maybe. But only for me,” Max said, kissing just below his ear.
The door opened, a girl with dreadlocks and a pierced nose standing there in yoga pants and a tank top. “Hey,” she said. “You Owen’s nine thirty?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Max said, tipping his hat.
Owen? Okay. There was no way he was making a porno with someone named Owen. The thought made him chuckle, even as they were ushered in.
“Hey!” Owen looked nothing like his name. He had blue hair. And tats. “Y’all all ready?”
Morgan grinned, tilted his head. Blue hair. Very cool. High maintenance, but cool. “I don’t know. Are we ready, cowboy?”
“We are.” That grin had to be a registered weapon.
“Cool. Come on, then,” Owen said, leading the way to a back room. Spotless, clean and sterile, with a chair. “Strip down, then,” Owen said, grinning at him.
He gave Max a look, a grin. “My rings?”
Oh. Oh, he…. Yeah. Max’s rings.
“Uh-huh. Time to get them back.” Those dark eyes were smokin’ hot, burning right into his, the grin replaced by something way more hungry.
“Same ones? Same places?” He stripped his shirt off, nipples hard as little rocks.
“For right now? Yes. I wanna be able to play, sugar.”
He nodded, moaned a little. Owen grinned over, shook his head. “What gauge jewelry did you have, man?”
“Ten gauge barbell in my tongue and nipples, eight gauge in my guiche.”
“Cool. How long have they been out?”
“A couple weeks, but I’d had them all forever.”
Hell, he’d had different jewelry to match his outfits. Christ, his father was an asshole.
“Well, I’ll put a twelve in the tongue and nipples, and in a few weeks, I’d recommend moving up to a ten. We’ll look at the guiche—if the eight goes in? Cool. If not, we’ll start smaller and stretch.”
Max shifted from foot to foot at the word stretch. Oh, someone was enjoying this.
“Works for me.” He slowed a little, letting Max watch as he got naked. His heart was just pounding, prick starting to fill.
Max cleared his throat and moved, looking intently at him as he shed his clothes. Max liked that part, he knew. Max liked all the parts.
“Did you pick out the jewelry?” He stepped out of his shoes and moved toward the table, making sure Max got to see everything.
“I did, yeah. Is that okay?” Max followed like they were attached by a string, staring at him, hungry.
“More than okay.” He met Max’s eyes, enjoying feeling his blood rush through his body. “I want them to be yours, cowboy.”
“Ours.” Rough fingers skated over his hipbone. “Is it okay if I sit here, Owen?”
The dude nodded, just beaming at them like some weird, punk fairy godfather.
“Mmm. Should we start with the tongue?” He waggled his tongue at Max, loving the way those brown eyes went almost black.
“Okay….” Max sat, the thump of his ass hitting the stool loud, the evidence of his hard-on easy to see at the fly of his jeans.
“Sure,” Owen said, bustling a little, gloves and shit appearing like magic.
“Let me see the stud?”
“Sure.”
Easy as anything, Owen held out a plain brushed-metal barbell, nothing fancy or sparkly, nothing that would rub anyone the wrong way. Perfect for Max’s slit.
“Mmm. I like it.” Man, the forceps were still uncomfortable, but besides a little sting and a bad taste of the antiseptic, the metal pushed right in.
God. He’d forgotten how different it felt.
Max caught his breath next to him, and that big hand stroked his throat as Owen finished up. Really, the guy was good. Nonintrusive.
He moaned a little, tongue sliding in his mouth. “Damn. It feels….”
He chuckled as he lisped, just a little. “Gonna have to practice talking again.”
“It’s cute, sugar,” Max said, voice gravelly as anything. Damn, that growl did things to him.
“Cute. You won’t think it’s cute when I use it.”
“I meant the lisp….” The words trailed off on a little moan as Owen came back with a little tray with some rings.
“Mmm. What next, cowboy?” His balls felt heavy. Loved playing with Max.
“Nipples. We’re working up to the hard one.”
Oh, that happy bastard just winked at him and rubbed the crotch of his own jeans, giving Morgan a show too.
“Mmm…. Just wait ’til I get done….” He grinned, then jumped as Owen sprayed icy cold water over his nipples, the poor things drawing up.
; “Gonna tear me up, sugar?” Those eyes watched his every move, Max stroking his arm, his hand, his fingers.
“Gonna….” He stopped as Owen ran the needle through his left nipple, using it to guide the ring through. “Oh….”
“Oh,” Max echoed, the sound almost raw. “Oh, sugar. I…. God.”
“Uh-huh. I remember the look on your face when you saw them the first time.” The captive bead was clicked on, and his nipple just throbbed, stretched around the metal.
“Uh-huh. You remember what I did when you told me we should get me some?”
Hell yes, he remembered. Max had gone crazy.
“Mmm-hmm. You melted for me.” Or had that been the truth or dare game…. Or the flamenco. Mmm…. Dancing.
“Oh God, the flamenco. We did it standing up in an alley, sugar.” Damned if Max wasn’t starting to pant as Owen started on his other nipple.
“Then we found the hotel, and you made me…. Oh….” The other ring went in, his cock jerking, slapping his belly.
“Uh-huh. Oh, Morgan. Look at that. Look how pretty.”
Owen moved away, humming under his breath, and Max took a kiss from Morgan, leaning to press his lips open, tongue pushing in.
He groaned, the tug delicious, familiar, hot.
Max growled, happy noises coming from him, hand just brushing the nipple rings.
Oh. Oh yes. More. He heard Owen clear his throat, and if he didn’t know what was coming, he’d have growled.
Max nodded, nose against his for a second, and pulled back, just shaking for him. Because of him.
“Cowboy….” He reached out, fingers twining with Max’s. Owen got his legs spread and propped wide, the spray of antiseptic making him shake.
“I got you. I’m right here. Oh, Morgan.” Max squeezed his hand, eyes on his, not on what Owen was doing. Holding his.
“Yeah. After he’s done, I want.” He wanted to let Max see, touch. He wanted Max.
“I know. I know. Me too. Soon, sugar. Soon. As soon as he does this one and then….” Max smiled, hot and so very male. “Well. Soon.”
“Yeah….” There was a familiar tug, pulling deep in him, then a sting and stretch that was almost a burn. His balls drew up tight-tight, the ache deep in the pit of his belly.
“Jesus. Is that what it was like… I can smell you, Morgan.” Max was petting him now, his belly, his ribs, slow, steady touches.