“Listen, you horny giant, before we can do anything, you have to let me make the bed.” Hank looked up, seeing the concern on Scott’s face. “Hank, what’s wrong?” Scott sat down beside him, his hands reaching out to offer support immediately. “Hank? Hank? Look at me.”
“Brian…,” Hank started, but he didn’t know what the next words should be. He reached out for Scott’s hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it gently. “Brian just offered me a chance to become his partner.”
“Partner,” Scott said. It wasn’t really a question, and Hank noticed the look of confusion.
Hank nodded, taking both of Scott’s hands now. “Wants to spend more time with Matthew and Kari, so he needs someone to be his partner, handle things when he’s not there.” Hank felt his hands shaking as he looked at Scott, the beautiful brown eyes widening as he finally understood what Hank had probably not done a very good job of explaining.
“Oh my God!” Scott jumped up from his spot on the edge of the bed and launched himself into Hank’s arms, smothering his face with rapid-fire kisses. “Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit out of me. I thought something had happened to Brian.”
“He asked me not fifteen minutes ago, told me to go home and talk it over with you.”
“How much?”
Hank told his husband the figure he’d agreed on with Brian. Scott’s only reaction was to ask Hank whether he would be accepting help raising the additional money. “It was Kari’s idea,” Hank explained, Scott still positively vibrating with excitement on top of him. “She told Brian that since he didn’t like working long hours and I could be there to take up the slack, it only made sense to sell part of the business to me and you.”
“Not me, baby. You.”
Hank was momentarily confused, his hands stilling on Scott’s back. “That’s okay, Scott. I can go to the bank and see about a loan. I already have—”
“No, you big twerp,” Scott said as he pinched Hank’s nipple through his cotton work shirt. “I meant I don’t need to have my name on anything. It’ll be just you and Brian.”
“But… if you give me money, it’ll be partly yours… the business, I mean.”
“No,” Scott corrected. “It will be yours and Brian’s.” Scott pushed his lips out in a pout and went looking for a kiss. “If you want, you can pay me back some time, or not. I don’t care.”
“Partner,” Hank whispered and rolled both himself and Scott onto their sides, his hands still on Scott’s back.
“Baby, I’m so happy for you. So proud of you.” Scott wanted another kiss.
Hank obliged and rolled the rest of the way so that he was suspended over his husband’s body. “I think this calls for a celebration,” Hank said as he let his body sink slowly, his legs working their way between his husband’s and his elbows on either side of Scott’s head. He let his fingers get lost in the soft blond curls, and suddenly, he was feeling much more like his usual self. “Why can’t I ever keep my hands off you?”
“Probably because I put Spanish Fly in everything you eat,” Scott joked, and Hank felt those long legs wrap around his waist, pulling him to rest completely on Scott.
“You like the weight, don’t you? Love feeling me on top of you?”
“Nothing better, boss.” Scott pulled on Hank’s shirt until his hands found bare skin. Hank looked deep into those mischievous brown eyes and saw something change, something shift. “Are you happy, Hank?”
Hank could only shake his head, his smile fading a little as he thought about that question. “It’s funny, but if you’d asked me that question before I met you, I would have said yes.”
“And now?”
“The answer is still yes, but for completely different reasons.” Hank stilled his hands, luxuriating in the soft curls, and brought their lips together. There was nothing urgent in Hank’s movements. He wanted to savor this moment, take his time and enjoy the sensation of his husband’s warm lips. Touching and teasing tongues soon appeared, and Hank could feel the slim body beneath him begin to writhe with need. “What do you need, baby?”
“What’re you offering?”
“Me,” Hank said and snapped his hips against Scott’s pelvis.
“I’ve never slept with a man who owned his own business before.” Scott brought his hands up and tweaked Hank’s nipples. “You’re not going to go out and hire some gorgeous twenty-year-old blond assistant, are you?”
“Already got an assistant at the office,” Hank said as he continued to brush his lips across Scott’s. “And already got a gorgeous blond at home.”
“Your gorgeous blond at home is waiting for you to rip his clothes off and fuck him into the mattress.” Scott began to pull Hank’s shirt off, stopping when Hank pushed himself up and stripped off his own clothes. When Hank stood before him completely naked, Scott sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, reaching out and smoothing his hands over every inch of Hank’s body.
Scott started with his hands on the muscled thighs and caressed and smoothed his way over the slim hips, one hand continuing up to outline the defined abs and pecs while the other hand worked around to slide sensuously over the firm ass cheeks and the backs of the hairy legs. Hank closed his eyes as he felt himself being swallowed by Scott’s hot mouth, the talented tongue teasing in between the foreskin and head of his growing erection. “God, I’m so glad I told you what that does to me,” Hank gasped, his heated skin feeling as if it were being stroked and caressed by fifteen hands instead of just two.
Scott worked Hank’s erection to full attention, pulling off only long enough to say, “Me too. Love the sounds you make when I do it.”
It took some time to make his body cooperate, but Hank stepped back a few paces. Scott, confused, looked up at him and waited for some sort of explanation. “Wanna watch you undress and play with yourself.” Hank leaned up against the wall beside the closets and spread his feet, one hand pinching at his own foreskin while the other cupped and massaged his balls. “See you pull your legs up and finger that tight hole,” Hank added, his own dick already leaking pre-cum.
“Keep talking like that and I won’t need you,” Scott joked as he pulled his T-shirt over his head and then turned his attention to undoing and dropping his jeans.
“Don’t you ever wear underwear anymore?” Hank took in the sight of Scott’s exposed torso, the head of his cock and his dark-blond pubic hair the only things peeking through the unzipped opening of his jeans. “Take them off,” Hank said, pointing to the jeans.
Without a word, Scott turned around, pushed the jeans over his hips and down his legs. Hank’s breath caught in his throat. There was nothing like that sight in the entire world. Nothing had ever gotten Hank as hard as fast as seeing Scott’s perfect ass being released from the confines of any clothing. Hank moved his hand a little faster on his own dick as he thought about their first camping trip, the first time he’d ever seen Scott naked. And two years later, Hank still couldn’t take his eyes off his husband.
“Get on the bed,” Hank commanded, spreading his legs a little farther apart. Hank watched as Scott stretched himself on the bed, his head coming to rest near the headboard, his legs extending toward Hank. Hank had a perfect view across the long, smooth body. His hand was pumping faster and faster on his thick cock, and he willed himself to slow down. He had big plans for that prostrate body, and none of them involved coming too soon. “Lift your legs,” Hank ordered, his voice husky with lust. “Wanna see you finger your hole.”
Hank watched as Scott followed his orders, lifting his legs and wetting his own finger before probing and tapping at his own hole, Hank’s eyes focused solely on the pink, twitching ring of muscle. “Fucking hot, Scrappy,” Hank growled as he moved to the foot of the bed. “Put two fingers in there. Get it nice and ready for me.”
Hank knelt on the bed, still too far away from his husband to touch, his breathing accelerated as he watched Scott’s flushed face roll from side to side on the pillow. He wanted to touch himself,
but he knew that if he did, he would shoot too soon. “You ready for my tongue?”
“Hank,” Scott sighed, his free hand moving to encircle his own cock.
“No!” Hank barked at the smaller man. “Don’t touch your dick, not yet.” Hank moved close enough to grab both ankles, completely undone when he saw that hole twitch at the contact. “Put your hands flat on the headboard.” Hank glanced up momentarily to see if Scott continued to follow his commands. “You want my tongue?”
“Yes,” Scott sighed, nodding and licking his own lips.
“Tell me how much,” Hank asked, moving his torso to the bed so that he could be nearer to Scott’s entrance.
“Please, baby, please. I want your tongue. I want you to rim me.”
Hank ground his own hips into the mattress, trying to relieve the pressure building in his cock. He moved forward slightly, placing the tip of his tongue at Scott’s hole. He felt the muscles twitch and pursed his lips, blowing heated air across the sensitive flesh. Another twitch. “Open up for me, baby.”
As the opening became larger, Hank moved his lips to kiss at his husband’s frenulum, his tongue leaving a wet trail, and he returned his tongue to lick and probe the open entrance. He still had hold of Scott’s ankles, so that the smaller man’s feet were flat on the mattress. When he felt Scott try to move his legs, he increased the pressure, letting Scott know not to move anymore. His tongue moved in and out, from side to side, and then pushed in, his movements quick jabs meant to drive Scott crazy.
“More, please, more.” Scott’s body was vibrating with anticipation, his hands clawing at the bare mattress as Hank continued to prepare his hole.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Fuck me, Hank, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore.”
Hank pulled himself up to his knees and brought Scott’s ankles to rest on his shoulders, his big arms wrapping around them so that Scott’s legs were locked into position. Hank’s fat mushroom head pushed against his husband’s eager entrance, the muscles putting up very little resistance. He snapped his hips once and found himself completely swallowed up by the hungry hole. “You really were ready for me, huh, baby?”
“Fuck me, Hank.” Scott’s hands were reaching for him.
“Hands on the headboard,” Hank said, snapping his hips one more time. Hank leaned forward a little and heard Scott call out. He leaned forward even more, his curved dick hitting Scott’s prostate with each subsequent snap of his hips. He saw one of Scott’s hands move to encircle his dick again. “Not yet. Wanna make you come later.”
“Hank, you’re driving me crazy. Fuck me, now?”
Hank leaned forward as far as he could and pumped in slowly. He counted to three each time he pulled out, then counted to three again as he pushed back in. When the sensations became too much for him, he began to increase his rhythm, thrusting his hips to bury his prick in his husband’s delicious hole. He brought himself upright again when he felt himself getting closer and let go with one of his hands so that he could take Scott’s beautiful dick in his hand, pumping it in time to the by now frenzied motion of his hips. In and out, side to side, up and down.
Hank let go of Scott’s legs and brought his free hand to rest on one side of the flushed, smooth chest while the other continued to pump up and down on his husband’s dick. He felt Scott wrap his long legs around his waist, urging him to fuck him hard. He sank his dick in, each time stopping momentarily to grind his hips against Scott’s sweet ass. He looked down at his husband’s face. “Look at me, Scott,” Hank ordered.
Scott’s eyes opened and fluttered as Hank continued to drive into him, the smaller man’s moans pulling Hank closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. Hank let out a gasp as he felt Scott’s muscles clamp down on his engorged cock. And then Scott was shooting his load across Hank’s hand and across his own belly and chest.
The look of sheer pleasure on Scott’s face was all it took, and Hank was emptying himself into his husband, his breathing labored as he tried to remain upright and not fall flat on top of Scott. He grunted with each spasm, no orgasm in recent memory having had this impact on him. He continued to snap his hips slightly as he rode out his orgasm, grinding his hips against Scott’s perfect ass, his head finally falling forward, his hair covering his sweaty face. He let his upper body fall to rest on his elbows, his tongue making lazy circles as he lapped up Scott’s release.
“Can I touch now?”
Hank looked up and saw the rosy cheeks and the swollen lips.
Hank pulled himself up and kissed Scott, then rolled off to lie beside his husband. “Yes. Now you can touch.”
Scott rolled onto his side and brought his body right alongside Hank’s so that they were touching from chest to toes. Hank closed his eyes as he felt Scott brush his hair out of his eyes, opening them slowly to peer into the face of the man he loved more than life itself.
“That was… intense,” Scott said with a smile. “Think you might want to try that again?”
“Fucking A,” Hank said as he wrapped an arm around his husband’s shoulders and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. “Definitely doing that again. Maybe even tonight?”
“I think I might be available. I’ll check my dance card.”
Hank just smiled and pulled Scott to him for another couple of kisses. He was thinking about what a perfect day it had been, how everything had started to fall in place for him ever since he had met this man, when the phone rang.
“Should I get that?”
“No!” Hank tightened his hold on his husband. “Machine.” It had been a little joke between them that, immediately following sex, Hank was always too shaky and sensitive to do anything but recuperate. That the recuperation usually involved Scott’s lips and tongue licking and sucking and nipping all over the sensitive skin meant that Scott was unavailable for phone calls as well. But still, Scott insisted on teasing Hank with the question.
As Scott set to work on Hank’s neck and chest, Hank closed his eyes, only to open them again when he heard his mother’s voice. She sounded like she’d been crying. “Henry, sweetheart, it’s your mother. Your father is in the hospital in Coquitlam. He’s had a heart attack.”
Hank watched, stunned, as Scott, bless his huge heart, jumped off the bed and reached for the phone. Hank sat up in bed and took the phone after Scott had assured Rose that Hank was there for her. Scott passed him the phone and never left his side while he listened to Rose explaining that Hank may have waited too long, given up too easily.
Hank punched the button to end the call and threw the phone behind him on the bed. Was it just a few minutes ago that Scott and I were making love, celebrating one of the best days of my life? Of course Hank knew the answer to that question, but it seemed that his brief reprieve from feeling disconnected from his own body was over.
He felt himself guided, thankful as ever for his Scrappy, to the shower, Scott telling him he would pack a bag for him while Hank showered and got ready.
Hank’s hand stopped short of the faucet. He walked back to the bathroom door and saw Scott, now covered by sweatpants and a T-shirt, plop one suitcase on the bed and prepare it for the things Hank would need.
“Come with me?” He waited as Scott turned and then watched those full lips curve into a knowing smile as his husband returned to the closet to pull out a second suitcase.
Chapter 18
SCOTT hated hospitals. Before Brian’s accident, Scott had been quite diligent in avoiding them at all costs. Besides the memory of having spent many hours in a hospital before his father finally passed away, there was a general feeling that hope clung in the hallways and in each room by a very thin thread. And when you added the almost blasé attitude of some of the health care professionals who had long ago become accustomed to the smell and sounds of death, Scott couldn’t help but think of hospitals as nothing more than the doorway to a world that held no promises—for the living or the dying.
With one of Hank’s hands on Scott’
s shoulder and the other around his mother’s waist, the three of them listened to the doctor explain that the prognosis was not good. John had suffered something called an anterior infarct, and Scott was able to figure out from what the doctor was saying that this was the most serious type of heart attack. Since an anterior infarct was caused by blockage in the left coronary artery and consequently damaged the front part of the heart, the doctor was quick to point out that John would be staying in the hospital for a while for surgery and observation.
He pushed down the selfish impulse to run back to Duncan and placed his hand on top of Hank’s, wanting to reassure and comfort him. “The most important thing right now,” the doctor was saying, “is that John get as much rest as possible.” Scott knew that whatever John would need didn’t necessarily include him, and if need be, he would have no problem leaving Hank’s childhood bedroom in Rose and John’s house for a hotel. He wasn’t about to stir up any trouble or allow anyone else to use this tragedy to make him feel as if he had no place beside his husband. Of course, that was what he thought before he actually met Hank’s older sister, Kathy.
Within thirty seconds of meeting Kathy, most people with an ounce of life experience would have been able to determine that she was one of those individuals for whom all the mistakes and unfortunate life events that befell her could be laid squarely at the feet of anyone but her. Scott knew from conversations with Hank that the elder of his two younger sisters was twice divorced, had three children—each of whom Kathy liked to refer to as a “mistake”—and had worked the same dead-end secretarial job since she was eighteen. She’d married for the express purpose of being liberated from her father’s control and had quickly discovered that she’d exchanged one form of control for another. While her father had never struck any of his children, it seemed that Kathy’s first husband had not had any issue with that particular practice.
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