by Cari Z
Aaron clapped a hand over his mouth before Tyler could get it out, which lasted until Tyler licked his palm like a naughty five-year-old.
“Gah, you’re so gross.”
“I thought you liked it when I licked you!”
Aaron rolled his eyes and nudged Tyler toward the door. “I think it’s time to go. You got all your milk and cookies and everything else we brought in the car?”
“Yep.”
“Great.” Then they could say their goodbyes and hit the road.
It wasn’t as awkward as it could have been.
Becky was just out of the shower, and when she hugged Aaron, it felt like being enveloped in a warm, vanilla-scented cloud. “We’ll be closer than ever soon,” she said as she squeezed him tight. “I don’t want to wait for another wedding to get to see you guys.”
“You should come to Tennessee when you get a break.” It felt like the right thing to offer, although Aaron didn’t have a spare bedroom and didn’t know where he’d put them. Something to figure out later, if the visit actually happened. “We can show you all around beautiful Tipton Hollow. It’ll only take about twenty minutes to see downtown and then the trees and hills and trees and hills and trees.”
“Maybe thirty if there’s traffic,” Tyler agreed.
Becky smiled. “Hey, here we’re farms, prisons, and military bases. Not exactly the most scenic locale either. You say the word, we’ll be there.” She moved on to hugging Tyler and left Aaron facing off with Zach. Well, facing off might have been too strong—they stared at each other with matching awkward pauses, Zach running one hand nervously through his hair, before Aaron remembered how to act like an adult.
“Thanks for inviting us,” he said, and held out his hand. Zach took it, and that could have been it—a friendly handshake and the promise for a meeting farther down the road. But when Aaron looked into his brother’s eyes, all of a sudden a hand just wasn’t enough. He pulled him forward into a hug and Zach fell into it like gravity had given him a shove. His arms wrapped tightly around Aaron’s neck, so tight he almost couldn’t breathe for a second, and Aaron remembered the last time he’d gotten a hug like this. It had come from Zach right before they were separated, when Zach hadn’t understood all the details but knew things were coming to an end.
No matter what had happened between now and then, how their lives had separated and gone on and turned out okay, there was still a part of Aaron that had felt the loss of his little brother every day. Even when he hadn’t felt like he could reach out, like he didn’t have a place there anymore, somewhere in his heart he had wanted one. And if the way Zach was holding on to him was any indication, he’d felt the same.
Aaron lifted a hand and ruffled the hair on the back of Zach’s head before cupping it for a moment. “Seriously. I’m glad we came.” So glad. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” The words were muffled, but they rang heartbreakingly sincere. They held each other for another minute before Zach finally loosened his arms and stepped back. He looked a little wobbly, but his smile got more genuine when Becky wrapped her arms around him from behind. “You guys drive safe. Have fun in Chicago.”
“We will,” Tyler assured him. “I mean, Chicago. Gotta be somethin’ for everyone there, right? I know you guys aren’t havin’ your actual honeymoon until next year, but if you get the chance to get away, you should, while you’re still in the mood to fuck each other’s brains out.”
Zach blushed and Becky laughed. “That mood comes around pretty often!”
“Indulge, girl. Indulge.”
“Oh, I will. You too.”
“Oh, I will. I’ve got this plan for—”
“It’s like you two are the related ones,” Aaron broke in while Zach’s rosy cheeks went crimson. “We need to get on the road if we’re going to make it to Chicago before dark.”
“We could draw it out and stop in Springfield instead.” Tyler looked down at his phone. “It’s Abraham Lincoln-ville there. We could see his house and his tomb and his library and his museum—”
“That might be too much of a good thing.”
“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to Abe Lincoln, Aaron!”
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree.” Aaron turned back to his brother, Becky, and Chrissy. “Okay, well… thanks again for putting us up, and congratulations.”
“Any time, honey,” Chrissy assured him. Norman, sitting at Chrissy’s feet, barked once. Aaron was going to take that as a farewell.
It was a bittersweet relief to put the familiar blue house and its army of gnomes in the rearview mirror. Aaron couldn’t quite loosen his throat up enough to talk as he pulled back onto the highway and headed for the Missouri border, and Tyler didn’t push it.
They drove in mutual silence for half an hour before Tyler drawled, “So. How do you feel about road head?”
Aaron almost choked on his tongue. “I—wait, what?”
“Road head. You think you could focus on driving while I gave you a blowjob?”
“No!”
He grinned at Aaron. “Then you better find a place to pull off while we’re still surrounded by fields, because I plan on having my mouth around your dick in the next sixty seconds whether we’re still moving or not.”
After a moment’s consideration, Aaron pulled off the road.
Epilogue
THERE was something perfectly, bizarrely domestic about the scent of roasting turkey wafting through the bedroom while they were having sex. Pre-Thanksgiving dinner sex—Tyler insisted they’d be too full for it later and he wasn’t going to let tryptophan cockblock him. It was an idea Aaron could get behind, but the actual execution of it was coming up a little short. He’d never cooked a turkey before—an actual turkey hadn’t been an option for most of his childhood, and when he lived on his own he’d made do with frozen dinners and cold cuts.
Now he was living with Tyler, though, and had been since the end of the summer, and Tyler wanted a homemade turkey for Thanksgiving. Aaron had managed to veto the deep-fried option, thank God, but he’d underestimated just how distracting the scent of unfamiliar food would be.
“Do you think it’s burning?”
Tyler pulled away and sighed. “I’m doin’ this blowjob wrong if you’re thinking about turkey while I’m goin’ down on you.”
Aaron felt himself blush. “No, it’s—I just—you barely even started,” he pointed out, which was true, but not a good excuse. “Sorry.”
“Eh, you’re anxious. It happens. First dinner party together and all.”
“It isn’t our first dinner party as a couple.” They’d had a whole slew of weekend barbecues, some of which hadn’t even devolved into seeing who could coax the biggest fireball out of the grill.
“First formal one. And your brother’s coming.” Tyler grinned. “Trust me, you’re gonna be happy we convinced him and Becky to stay in a hotel.”
Aaron arched one eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Because you wouldn’t let yourself scream otherwise.”
“Big talk for someone who—ah—” Aaron stuttered over his words as Tyler’s soft, smooth lips descended over the head of his cock again. This time the sensation was joined by the feel of a slick finger rubbing gently over his hole, and Aaron sucked in a breath. “Oh, fuck.”
“Mm-hmm.” Tyler couldn’t exactly speak, but he still managed to sound smug as he sucked Aaron’s cock deeper into his mouth, until the head hit the back of his throat. He swallowed, and Aaron groaned. Tyler had already been amazing at blowjobs when they got together, but it had taken a while for him to get really comfortable with ass play. Fortunately, he was a fast learner. He pressed his finger inside of Aaron, slow and steady, and crooked it just a little bit as he licked a line from Aaron’s balls up to his crown.
“More.” Fuck, he loved this, and Tyler was too turned on to tease him, giving him a second finger just as smoothly as the first and rubbing gently over his prostate. Aaron couldn’t take too m
uch of that, it made him oversensitive, but he loved it as a warm-up. “God, yes.” He fucked down against Tyler’s hand, pushing his long fingers deeper inside, forcing his hole to stretch around their base.
“You payin’ attention to me now?” Tyler asked once he pulled back again, trying for seductive but coming off more desperate instead.
“Yes, shit, I am—oh, fuck—” That was three fingers, and it stretched and it burned and Aaron needed every inch of it to get him ready for Tyler because Tyler was, to be succinct, fucking hung. “I’m good. I’m ready.”
“You’re a liar, darlin’.” Tyler spread his fingers apart a little, prompting Aaron to whine. “You’re still tight. We fuck almost every day. How are you still so goddamn tight?”
“I don’t know.” Aaron tried to sound nonchalant. “Maybe my ass just doesn’t find you that memorable.”
Tyler grinned. It was a very particular grin, reserved for moments when he was about to win at HALO or when he was about to screw Aaron into the mattress—wide, bright, and sharklike.
“We’ll see about that.” He eased his fingers out, and Aaron barely had time to miss them, because a moment later his ankles were slung over Tyler’s shoulders. His breath caught in his chest as Tyler slicked his cock, lined up, and gradually pressed inside.
Tyler might joke about the tightness, but he didn’t test it by going too hard, too fast. He was willing to learn what Aaron liked, and how, and that made him ten times better than some of Aaron’s previous boyfriends. “Better than Len?” Tyler had asked more than once, and Aaron was happy to reassure him. Better, and the caution was necessary, because fuck—Tyler really was big.
Aaron relaxed in increments, until finally Tyler was as deep as he could go, deeper than his fingers, not scraping at Aaron’s prostate but giving it firm, solid, maddening pressure. Aaron sighed with pleasure, not even realizing his eyes had drifted closed until Tyler shifted his hands to his hips, hiking him up a little higher and making him gasp.
“You feel so fuckin’ good.” Tyler didn’t find dirty talk easy, but he had no problem keeping up a running commentary of what he loved about Aaron. It had taken Aaron months to stop blushing over it. “Can’t believe how good you are, fuck.” He started to move, short, sharp jabs that touched Aaron in all the right ways. Aaron moaned and reached a hand down toward his cock. “No baby, don’t, let me suck you off.”
“I won’t last that long,” Aaron admitted. He was close already, balls tightening of their own accord, and it hadn’t even been ten minutes. Maybe not even five. Shit, his willpower was shot to hell when it came to being with Tyler.
“Yeah you will.” Tyler thrust faster, staying deep and hard and fast. “You will ’cause you know you want my fingers back in you, pushing my come inside while you fuck my mouth. Fuck, I love it when you do that. You only really let yourself when you need to get off so bad you don’t care anymore if you’re chokin’ me.” His voice became breathless, his abs tightening against the back of Aaron’s thighs. He rode Aaron hard and Aaron forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch the moment when Tyler gave in, succumbed to the feeling, and let himself go. His voice went low and dark, a sort of gasping groan that Aaron might have teased him about if he hadn’t been so close to the edge himself.
Tyler went deep and stayed there for a long moment, panting as he recovered himself. Aaron clenched his hands in the edges of the pillow under his head and resolutely didn’t reach for his cock, no matter how much it was throbbing now, no matter how badly he wanted to come. He would wait, he could, Tyler would get there… although if he didn’t get there in the next thirty seconds or so, Aaron might be forced to take things into his own hands.
Fortunately, Tyler remembered not to linger. He pulled out and dropped down, bouncing the foot of the bed with his weight as he readjusted, then slid three of his fingers—so easily now, so much more easily—into Aaron’s ass. He licked the head of Aaron’s cock, then again, until Aaron gave in and grabbed Tyler by the hair like he knew the little shit wanted. He thrust into Tyler’s mouth, touching his throat again and Tyler only hummed with satisfaction, fingering Aaron to the same tempo as his thrusts. It didn’t take long for Aaron to grit his teeth, clench his ass, and empty his balls into Tyler’s mouth.
Orgasm tended to make Aaron hazy. He wasn’t like Tyler, couldn’t snap out of it and hop to the next thing lickety-split. He eased his grip on Tyler’s hair enough to pet it instead, but that was as coordinated as he was going to get for the next fifteen minutes. Tyler settled in next to him, sticky and smug and pressing kisses to Aaron’s jaw, and Aaron relaxed into it. Everything was perfect.
Wait.
He inhaled deeply, then forced himself to speak. “It really smells like something is burning now.”
Tyler went completely still for a second, then swore and jumped to his feet. “Shit, the turkey!” He ran buck-naked out of the room, and Aaron rolled onto his side, laughing.
Burned Thanksgiving turkey aside, it was still perfect.
CARI Z was a bookworm as a child and remains one to this day. In an effort to combat her antisocial reading behavior, she did all sorts of crazy things, from competitive gymnastics to alligator wrestling (who even knew that was legal!) to finally joining the Peace Corps, which promptly sent her and her husband to the wilds of West Africa, stuck them in a hut, and said, “See ya!” She also started writing then because what else are you going to do for entertainment with no electricity? She writes award-winning LGBTQ fiction featuring aliens, supervillains, soothsayers, and even normal people sometimes.
You can contact Cari at [email protected]. In fact, please do. She’d love to hear from you.
Website: cari-z.net
Blog: carizerotica.blogspot.com
Twitter: @author_cariz
Coming in November 2018
Dreamspun Desires #69
Seeking Solace by Ari McKay
The Walker Boys
All hands on deck for a shipboard romance—with a secret.
Like his cousins, Devin Walker aspires to be a chef, but he wants to indulge his wanderlust while feeding his customers, and working a cruise ship seems like the solution. Since he can’t find an opening in the kitchen, he’s happy to start out in a position behind the bar.
While onboard Poseidon’s Pearl, Devin is assigned to shepherd a visiting executive. Paul Bailey is quiet and unassuming, and a car accident that cost him his leg also shattered his confidence. He doesn’t think he’s attractive to other men anymore, and Devin is eager to show him just how wrong he is. But Paul has a surprising secret, and it might sink their passionate affair before it even makes it out of port.
Dreamspun Desires #70
Femme Faux Fatale by Susan Laine
Mystery. Murder. Men in silk stockings. Hollywood nights are heating up.
Hardboiled Los Angeles PI Cain Noble is hired by wealthy and gorgeous Camille Astor to find her husband and a priceless work of art, both of which have disappeared.
At the nightclub owned by Mr. Astor, Cain encounters the mesmerizing Lily Lavender, who has the body of a goddess and the sultry voice of an angel—but is really a young man named Riley who attracts trouble like a magnet.
What’s a private dick in the vein of LA’s bygone era and a cross-dressing burlesque starlet to do when faced with the hidden decadence and lethal dangers of the Hollywood Hills? They have their work cut out for them because they haven’t even scratched the surface of an elaborate scheme more twisted than anyone could ever have imagined.
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Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Handle With Care
© 2018 Cari Z.
Cover Art
© 2018 Alexandria Corza.
http://www.seeingstatic.com/
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
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Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-446-3
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64108-056-9