The Case of the Voracious Vintner

by Tara Lain

  “Just replaying our visit to Reynolds and Reynolds to consider what we should do tomorrow.”

  That answer seemed to satisfy him. He took one last glance in the side mirror, then said, “Strausburg’s a real long shot.”

  “Agreed, but their caves are so much fun, I can’t resist taking you. If we make a contact, that’s gravy.”

  “I can’t wait.” He turned his head and smiled. “No, hold on. That’s not true. I want tonight to be as long as possible.”

  That made Bo catch his breath, so he smiled and busied himself parking the car in front of their end cabin as warmth spread from his chest to his groin.

  By the time they got inside, that warmth had turned into a pretty substantial fire, and his jeans felt too tight, the rough denim rubbing hard enough against his briefs that he could feel it on his cockhead. Good. It was the only thing that would put a damper on the beast.

  Jeremy disappeared into the bathroom. Bo took off his shoes, but then lost his nerve and sat on the end of the bed. What if Jeremy doesn’t want to have sex when he comes out? But he heard the shower running, and that made him smile. Good idea. I’ll do that next. He pulled his shirt out of his pants and sat back against the headboard. He only waited a couple of minutes.

  When Jeremy opened the bathroom door, steam escaped and Bo snorted. Jeremy struck a pose, one arm behind his head and a towel, unequal to the task, tucked around his waist. The white terry cloth gapped over his thigh and gave Bo a peekaboo view of golden pubic hair. But speaking of hair, his shiny mane fell around his shoulders, perfectly dry.

  “How did you keep your hair from getting wet?” Bo flashed a dimple or two.

  “I wrapped my head in a towel.”

  “Oh darlin’, I wish I’d seen that.”

  “Definitely looked like the Queen of Sheba.”

  Bo slid off the bed. “My turn in the bathroom?”

  “Sure. The turban awaits.”

  Bo ran his hand over his well-cut auburn hair. “Probably not required.” He leaned in toward Jeremy. “You smell better than an apple pie on the windowsill, darlin’.”

  Jeremy turned his back and gazed over his shoulder. “Come and get yourself a piece, darlin’.”

  Oh my. First he had to keep from having a spontaneous orgasm just looking at Jeremy. Bo escaped into the bathroom before he forgot about the grime of the day and the much-needed shower and went down on Jeremy right that second.

  Stepping under hot water—amazing Jeremy had left any after the steam bath he’d created—he quickly washed his pits and then paid special attention to his privates, not rubbing too hard for fear of losing his proverbial shit right there. Moments later he stepped out and grabbed a towel. Yes, I’m anxious, thank you very much. Bracing a foot on the edge of the tub, he dried his leg, stood, and caught a glimpse in the mirror.

  He stared. I wonder what Jeremy sees. To his own glance, Bo looked like a young man with old eyes. Back in college, girls had always said his green eyes were his best feature. Now he seemed wary and… what? Burdened? Sad? No, not sad, exactly. He wasn’t sad about taking care of his family. So, what? Bo leaned against the wall, still staring in his own eyes. I’m sad to be living my life by someone else’s rules. There. Said that.

  The sound of Jeremy moving around in the other room brought a slow smile to Bo’s face. But not tonight, Mama. Tonight I get to be all Bo all the time.

  Chapter Seventeen

  UH, WHERE is he? Jeremy shifted against the bed pillows and glanced toward the bathroom door—then blinked as it opened like he’d said the magic word. Oh my. Bo, dressed only in a towel, made saliva collect in his mouth and flashes go off in Jeremy’s brain. Delicious and worthy of cover-model status. So tall. So broad in the shoulders above everything else that was lean, baby, lean. Bo’s legs were so long they forced pornographic images of them wrapped around Jeremy’s back or straining beside his hips as they fucked. “Hi.”

  Bo returned his smile. Hmm. Bo’s expression was—confident, saucy even. Not quite as haunted as he sometimes looked. That shower must have been dispensing chutzpah. Jeremy patted the bed. “You look delicious.”

  Bo’s beautiful lips curved upward. “Then get ready to eat.”

  Jeremy laughed, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “You’re in a sexy mood.”

  “You have no idea.” He took a couple of steps forward. “I’ve been stretching with a butt plug.”

  Jeremy felt his eyes widen. “You’re kidding?”

  “I’d never kid about my ass.” He sat on the edge of the bed, then scooted a bit toward Jeremy.

  Oooh, feisty. Jeremy leaned forward and met Bo partway. “Guess what? So have I.”

  Bo chuckled, low and dirty. “Shall we flip for top or bottom?”

  Jeremy unfastened his towel and rolled backward all in one move. He grasped his legs, allowing himself to expose all his most private parts to Bo’s inspection. “I already flipped. I won.”

  “Well, damn.” Bo took an audible breath. “Supplies?”

  “Just look in that bedside drawer right there.” Jeremy flicked his eyes to his left.

  Bo lost his cool and scrambled to the table. Totally cute. The sound of packages ripping made Jeremy smile even bigger. “Uh, I can only assume this acrobatic and highly, shall we say, revelatory position for so long.”

  “Oh right. Sorry.” Bo scampered back to the mattress.

  Jeremy almost released his position but stopped. What was that? A soft fluttering caress, like a butterfly or a kitten’s tail, tickled his butt. He peeked around his own ass and saw Bo kissing it. Nice, but—holy crap! Bo’s whole tongue stroked over Jeremy’s right cheek, then moved to the left and repeated, and then, oh yes, Bo pulled apart his cheeks and slid the warm, soft, wet intruder between.

  Jeremy gasped so loudly Bo stopped.

  “No! Don’t stop, please.” No one had ever done this to him, for him. What started as tickles turned to full sparks of electricity that shot straight from Bo’s tongue into Jeremy’s balls, prompting little squeaking cries that were kind of embarrassing, but he didn’t care. “Oh! Oh! Yes. There.”

  Bo moaned low in his throat as he pressed more deeply into Jeremy. Oh yeah, moaning was in order. Jeremy moaned too, but it came out a little whimper instead as a shock of pure pleasure lit him up, turning his shaft into a lightning bolt ready to fly. It bobbed against his own chest, looking for attention, but the pleasure in his butt consumed everything and he couldn’t move his hands.

  Bo’s tongue slid away and, just as Jeremy was ready to yell in protest, a sticky, slick, cool finger slid into the well-oiled channel, pressing deep and then—

  “Oh my God!”

  Bo chuckled, low and sexy. “Don’t we just love prostates more than cornbread and grits?”

  Jeremy tried to answer, but his breath stopped as Bo did that curly thing with his fingers again and jolts of a whole new level of sensation, almost too intense to call just pleasure, rocked him. “Mmm fttt yahhh.”

  A second finger must have gone in because he felt even fuller—but not full enough. “G-getting all the goodies. Fuck. Fuck me.”

  Bo leaned over him, his fingers still delving. “Truth is, darlin’, I’m so hot for you I don’t expect to last too long, so I want to be sure you’re ready.”

  “Ready? I’m a fucking incendiary device. Get that dick in—therrrrre!” His last word accompanied the hard/soft slide of a big dick into his hole, and then a fast pull out and harder thrust, driving the monster so deep Bo’s balls slapped against Jeremy’s ass.

  He couldn’t cry out or move. Hell, he could barely breathe as Bo set up a rhythm and thrust in and out of his body, making deep grunting sounds that vibrated through Jeremy’s whole being. Like heaven with a little edge of burn that made the sweetness even better. It wasn’t just that it had been so long since he’d had sex. It was that he’d never had sex like this. Sex with Bo. No, he wasn’t a better lover than other men. In fact he was a little awkward and puppyish. B
ut it was the look in his eyes, so full of things Jeremy both ran from and wanted more than anything, that made each thrust reach all the way to Jeremy’s heart.

  “Oh my stars, Jeremy, this is so wonderful. So wonderful.”

  Bo’s words were sweet, but that big cock did beautifully nasty things to his insides, and Jeremy’s whole body woke up and took over, rising up to meet each thrust like an overanxious lover. Their skin slapped and squished with sweat despite the coolness of the night outside.

  As each dive hit bottom, a flash of light lit up Jeremy’s brain, then plunged to deep blackness between, letting him see the heavens, then taking them away, then back to the stars. His breath came in pants and he hung, suspended on the edge of explosion, as Bo whispered, “Oh Lord, I’m close, so close, so—are you?”

  “Ummmm-hmmmmmm!” His body froze, his brain exploded, and Jeremy became the stars he’d been seeing, vaguely aware of hot fluid shooting out on his chest, onto his chin, and one shot right in his eyes. He laughed and yelled at the same time. “Holy shit!”

  “Jeremyyyyyyy!” Bo’s long strokes devolved into bunny hops as his head strained up, all the cords in his long neck standing out. His body froze, then began to shudder.

  It took minutes before they stopped shivering in aftershocks of pleasure; then Bo, who’d been holding himself on his forearms, flopped to the side, still breathing like a coal train. Jeremy missed his weight instantly.

  Bo kind of giggled—in baritone, which sounded funny. “You know, that was so worth waiting for.”

  Amen to that, baby. Jeremy let his barely movable fingers sift through Bo’s deep red hair. Such beautiful coloring. The hair like flame. The eyes like sea glass. Clearly he’d drunk some kind of sappy Kool-Aid, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. “I agree.”

  Bo rolled to his side and gazed at Jeremy with way too much affection pouring from his eyes. “If I’d known what I was missing, I’d have been sneaking up on you in the vineyard rows.”

  Jeremy gave a snort. “Ah, but would you have practiced buttage?”

  Bo gave a howl, laughing at Jeremy’s pun on the French word for the practice of covering vine grafts with dirt to protect from frost. “Definitely, and I’ll never do it again without laughing.”

  Their chuckles quieted, letting Jeremy wonder if their sex had been earth-shattering enough to make Bo come out, but he refused to spoil the mood by bringing it up. Not like him to be so nonconfrontational, but their sex had been pretty revelatory to him too.

  With a shove Bo rose up, slid off the bed, and padded to the bathroom, giving Jeremy a front-row seat to the flexing of a spectacular ass. Bo disappeared, and then Jeremy heard water running. A moment later Bo emerged with a warm washcloth in hand, his own groin shining with moisture from what must have been a quick wash. Bo sat on the edge of the bed and gently wiped the fresh terry cloth over Jeremy’s chest, scrubbing a little to get off the pool of fast-drying semen, then applied his ministrations lower to Jeremy’s relaxed and sensitive cock. When he finished he sat back and just gazed. “You’re in such remarkable shape. You make my hour workouts at the gym four days a week seem pretty slothful.”

  Don’t tense. Don’t look guilty. “I was quite a gym junkie back in college. Now I’m lucky to get in as much exercise time as you do.” He shrugged. “But it’s easier to keep it than to get it.”

  “Well, it sure looks pretty. The first time I saw you bare-chested, I thought you looked like Brad Pitt in Fight Club—but with the hair of Legends of the Fall.”

  “Yikes. Not sure I can live up to that comparison.”

  Bo touched Jeremy’s chest with a finger and said musingly, “Actually, you’re better-looking. Even more classic. Not so boy-next-door.”

  “I guess all I can say is thank you. I’m glad you think so.”

  Bo blinked like he’d been somewhere else for a minute. “You looking for some sleep?” His devastating dimples flashed. “Before we try that again?”

  Jeremy laughed, though he glanced at the fairly small bed uneasily. “Sounds good, but we may have to try a variation later since my poor behind is out of shape.”

  “I’d never say that, but I’m happy to offer up mine next time. Let’s sleep first, though, okay?” Bo took the washcloth into the bathroom; they took turns peeing and brushing their teeth, then snuggled into the sheets Bo had straightened while Jeremy did his ablutions. Bo sighed deeply and gathered Jeremy into his arms.

  It took all his focus not to tense. He’d always shied from sleeping with anyone. Too intimate. But this was Bo, and Bo was the exception to a lot of rules. Jeremy released his breath slowly, laid his head next to Bo’s on the pillow, and amazingly, fell asleep.

  What’s that? Jeremy’s eyes flew open and his body froze—too many years of too much vigilance. Bo softly snuffled, pressed tightly against him. One big man and one medium-sized man in a double bed didn’t leave a lot of extra real estate. Is that what woke me? It should have, but every nerve and well-honed instinct said no. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. One a.m. He’d been asleep beside Bo for an hour and a half. Why would the proximity wake him now?

  With a glance at Bo, he slid from his side of the bed, feet hitting softly on the chilly floor. He’d taught himself to walk without sound when he was really little. It had allowed him to sneak out of the house when he needed to get away. Hell, it had allowed him to buy a winery.

  The uninspiring motel drapes were pulled tight across the windows, but like most blackout curtains, the thickness of the plastic lining created a small gap. A tiny beam of light, so fast and so small it might not have happened, flashed against that gap and was gone. Damn, is there any way out the back? He wanted to bang his head against the wall. He never entered a space without checking for exits. He’d been so anxious to have sex he’d lost all his training. Bo made him stupid.

  “What’s wrong?” Bo’s sleepy voice came from behind him.

  Shit! He turned and plastered on a mildly concerned expression. Speaking softly, he said, “It sounds like someone’s walking around the outside of the cabin, real quiet-like.”

  “Might be a maintenance man.” But he’d lowered his voice.

  “At 1:00 a.m.? Really? This cabin’s set apart, so I don’t see why anyone would be walking past to get to or from their car.”

  “A kid sneaking out?”

  “Maybe, but they’ve got a flashlight with a tiny beam.”

  Bo sat up on the edge of the bed and wiped a hand over his face. The fact he was stark naked reminded Jeremy he was the same. Bo said, “Why would someone want to sneak around spying on us?”

  Jeremy shook his head but said, “Wait here.” He grabbed the closest thing he could find that had any weight—the TV remote—and handed it to Bo. “If someone comes through the door, smash them.”

  “Holy shit, Jeremy.” In the almost nonexistent light, Jeremy’s adapted eyes could just make out a hint of the frown on Bo’s face.

  “It probably won’t happen.” He crept softly to the closet, grabbed his jeans and sweater he’d tossed in earlier, and pulled them on as he tiptoed to the bathroom. He remembered a window in there but had no idea if it opened. The flicker of the thin light jiggled across the window, and Jeremy turned into a statue.

  Just that fast—gone.

  He waited. No more light. Stepping back out the bathroom door, he saw Bo crouched by the front windows, staring at the front door like a cat at a mouse hole. A naked cat. He almost laughed, but no time. The tiny, almost imperceptible blink of light reflected on the drapes. Bo turned quickly toward Jeremy, and he nodded at him.

  Okay, fast. Jeremy hurried across the bathroom, stepped into the tub, and faced the frosted glass window. It had an old-fashioned lock, which he unfastened. Here goes. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the bottom of the window and shoved up. Nothing. Might be painted closed, but he gave it one more heave. With a sharp cracking sound, it raised an inch.

  Damn. He waited. Nothing happened, but that didn’t
mean much. He could open this window and come face-to-face with a guy holding a gun. But now there was an inch gap at the bottom of the window, so he had to go one way or another.

  What the hell? He pushed up. The cold night air struck his cheeks, but no gunshot.

  He poked his head out a couple of inches and looked both ways. Super quiet. Hooking a leg over the sill, he slid out, and his bare feet hit the damp, rocky ground. He barely noticed. Quietly he pulled the window down, not quite to the bottom, but far enough that you had to be right next to it to see it wasn’t closed tight. With another quick glance around, he scooted back into the bushes to hide. If someone tried to open that window, it wasn’t entirely clear what he’d do about it, but he couldn’t search the neighborhood for a loose tire iron. He did glance around and find a good-sized rock he could hold in his palm to increase the impact of a blow.

  Then he held still, barely breathing, and waited. God willing, Bo wouldn’t suddenly shove his head out the window and shout. Even more than that, Jeremy’s fingers were crossed that no one broke in that front door.

  Minutes passed in total silence. He listened so hard it made his ears hurt.

  Crack.

  He held his breath as a soft step sounded near the corner of the building. The little beam of light played against the tree branches for a moment and then—poof. Blackness. It was like some Harry Potter said the opposite of Lumos.

  Something about the quality of silence that followed spoke of his being alone with no one sneaking in the bushes, like the trees and bushes had been holding up their transpiration and now returned to normal. He waited another moment, then skittered to the window, raised it, and slid inside.

  He gasped at the big body standing in front of him—until he realized it was Bo. “Holy shit, you scared me.”

  Bo full-on frowned. “Where were you?”

  “I went outside to try to catch the person who was snooping around.”

  “Since you’re not hauling someone by their ear, I’m assuming your quest did not succeed.” He crossed his arms.

  “No. I didn’t see him either, but there was definitely someone there. I saw his flashlight.”