Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  “Blue brings out my eyes,” Tide murmured, mouth at his ear.

  “I like blue.” He was stupid.

  “It’s a good color for you.” Tide was still touching him, fingers stroking.

  “I…. Yeah. Blue’s good.” God. God, he was going to have to put the ice pack in his pants. And take that Valium. Damn.

  “Blue it is.” Tide turned him, gently, slowly. “Do you want to watch Tyrone bind Bran? It’s stunning.”

  “I’ll shoot it.” Please don’t get hard. Please.

  “Good. Tyrone’s amazing with the ropes. And Bran is stunning in his submission.” Tide’s voice was like hot caramel.

  He lowered the backdrop, clicked off a few shots. Yeah. Yeah, better. He grabbed his drink and considered spiking it; he needed the tiniest sip. Tide’s hand returned to him, fingers lingering on his arm. That was maddening. Utterly maddening. Tide’s fingers danced up to his shoulder, stroked his neck.

  “Please.” Lance almost didn’t notice that he spoke.

  “Anything you want.” Tide’s lips pressed against the side of his neck, tongue sliding on his skin.

  “Oh God.” He stepped forward, almost losing his drink.

  “Easy.” Tide steadied his hand. “There we go.”

  “Thanks.” He moved it back and set it on the counter. “Okay, okay, I’m ready to shoot.”

  Bran grinned, the look wicked. “Me too.”

  “Of course you are, you’re always ready for naughtiness.” Tide gave Bran a kiss before coming to join him. “Tyrone uses white and black rope.”

  “You’re not going to help?” Lance asked.

  “I can if that’s what you want. Sometimes it’s nice just to watch a master at work, though.”

  “Oh.” God, he wasn’t going to survive this.

  “Lance, why do you fight your sexuality so hard?” Tide asked.

  “What? This isn’t about me.” This wasn’t about him at all.

  “That”—Tide pointed at the camera—“isn’t about you. But what’s going on between you and me? That’s all about you.”

  “I’m just the photographer.” No one to look at.

  “I’m interested in the man behind the camera.”

  “Oh, I’m boring.” And he had to work.

  Tide laughed. “I hate to disappoint you, darling, but you are most certainly not boring.”

  “I have to work.” He put in a new memory card and put his camera up.

  “Always running away.”

  Yeah. God, yeah. This was way over his head.

  “I’m not going to stop following.”

  Oh, that was nonsense. Of course Tide would stop.

  Hand snaking around his waist, Tide stroked his belly through his T-shirt. “You’ll get tired of running.”

  “You shouldn’t touch. I’m working.”

  “You honestly want me to stop?”

  “I…. You should.”

  “I should what? Do this?” Tide’s mouth slid along his neck again, fingers still dancing on his stomach.

  “Please.” He kept saying that. “I have to work. I’m going to pay my rent for months.” Years.

  “We’ll make sure you get your pictures. Imagine how much better they’ll be if you’re really into your subject.”

  “You’re… who are you?” He lifted his camera, focused on Bran and Tyrone. Bran was on his belly, hands bound behind his back.

  “I’m the man who’s going to turn you inside out.” Tide whispered the words into his ear.

  His toes curled and he moved away, his heart pounding. Tide’s hands slid over him as he stepped away. He focused on his screen, on the sight of Tyrone and Bran, the white rope on the tanned skin.

  “Come give me a hand, Tide.” At Tyrone’s request, Tide moved to join the two stunning men at the table.

  Thank God. It was easier behind the lens, focusing on the tiny details. Like the way Tyrone’s and Tide’s hands contrasted, the dark skin against pale on Bran’s body, echoed in the black and white rope. So pretty. He swallowed his moan, moving around, taking one image after another. Bran was moaning constantly, body rippling within the bindings.

  “We’ll do several poses for you,” Tyrone promised.

  “Thanks.” He relaxed as he worked, the safety of his camera easing things somewhat.

  They spent the better part of four hours tying and retying the ropes on Bran, each pose making Bran shine. By the time Tyrone called a break, the blond was glowing. Lance poured everyone water, then switched out his memory cards. Drinking water and wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer-briefs that shouldn’t have been sexy but were, Tide came over to him again.

  “I love the passion you have for your profession.”

  “Thank you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Did you get a water?” Lance was babbling, just talking for the sake of having something to do.

  Tide held up his glass. “I did, thank you. You’re very good at seeing to people’s needs.”

  He offered Tide a smile, a nod, wishing he’d taken the edge off earlier, before they’d come, so they wouldn’t know.

  “You’ve got such expressive eyes.” Tide rubbed his cheek with the back of his knuckles.

  “You keep touching me.”

  “I do. Your skin fascinates me.”

  “I should”—go jack off—“go order lunch for everyone.”

  “You should stop running away. I could make you fly.”

  “I don’t know about this. I mean, the stuff with the things.”

  Tide’s smile was bright, gentle at the same time. “I know. I want to lead you to it. Show you.”

  “Show me? I’ve seen a lot. A lot a lot.” And it was blisteringly hot.

  “Honey, you’re not drinking with Valium, are you? That’s very dangerous. Very.” Bran sounded so worried.

  “I’m fine.”

  Tide frowned. “Drinking? Why are you drinking? Throw that out, Bran.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I wasn’t drinking and I didn’t take the Valium. Though I probably should.” Just to take the edge off. Now that they knew it was sitting in his cupboard anyway.

  Tide shook his head. “You don’t need Valium or alcohol, what you really need is me and help getting out of your own head.”

  “I need to….” Lance lowered his voice. “I’m trying so hard to be professional, man. So hard.”

  “Mmm. You are hard.” Tide brushed against his cock, but then he backed off. “Will you have supper with me tonight?”

  “Out?” That would be safe, right? Somewhere out? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything anymore and he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Yes. There’s a restaurant I’d like to take you to.”

  “Okay…. Is that inappropriate? Should I wait until we aren’t shooting?” God, he was dizzy.

  “No, darling, it’s perfectly appropriate. You’re a sexy man, I’m a sexy man. We should be sexy men together.” Tide frowned. “I think you should sit.”

  “Am I not sitting?”

  “Oh, honey.” That was Bran.

  “Get a chair,” Tide ordered, and Bran hurried off.

  A moment later a chair hit the back of his legs, and Tide pushed him down into it, then shoved his head between his legs.

  “Breathe, Lance.”

  Oh, he was just a loser. An utter loser. He should go work at Walmart in the portrait studio.

  Tide’s hand was solid and warm, rubbing circles on his back.

  “I’m sorry.” He was never going to be able to look these people in the eye.

  “Shh. Shh. Easy.” Tide’s voice went even deeper, soothing over his nerves.

  “You guys must think I’m the worst photographer ever.”

  “Not at all. We think you’ve never been faced with three of the hottest men on earth making out with each other.”

  “Yeah.” No shit on that. He had jackoff material for years.

  Tide crouched down next to him, letting him up a little and pressing their
foreheads together. “Better?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I just couldn’t catch my breath. I’m trying so hard to be calm, you know?” And instead he’d freaked out enough he was hyperventilating.

  “You haven’t fucked anything up. We needed to break for lunch anyway, right? Have you had anything to eat at all today?”

  “No. No, I will. Later.” He should order food. And then take that Valium.

  “You will now.” Tide looked up. “Bran, check the kitchen and see if there’s any takeout menus. Order us something good.”

  “I’ll feed you. I’ll pay.” Lance was just so tired.

  “Darling, don’t worry about it. We can settle up later.”

  “Okay.” He was going to cry.

  Suddenly, Tide was kissing him again, lips pressed to his, tongue teasing its way between them. He pushed into Tide’s body, his belly tightening. Tide’s arms went around him, bringing him to the edge of the chair, the kiss never breaking.

  This was a mistake. A bad mistake. A wonderful erotic mistake.

  Tide could kiss. He was a fucking master of kissing. Tongue invading his mouth, Tide tasted him. He reached out, hands finding Tide’s shoulders. His legs bracketed Tide’s torso, his cock hard and throbbing against the solid abdomen.

  This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t. No way.

  But it was. Tide was kissing him and Lance was letting it happen. No, he wasn’t just letting it happen, he was beginning to kiss Tide back. He rocked closer, moaning deep in his chest. Tide’s solid hands moved down to his ass, cupping it, and it was like his ass was made to fit in them.

  This was a dream, right? A perfect, hungry fantasy?

  Tide’s groan filled his mouth, vibrating inside him. He wouldn’t have imagined that.

  Tide squeezed, lifting him slightly, rubbing him against that fantastic body.

  He had to stop this. He had to. This was insane.

  Sucking on his tongue, Tide kept the kisses going. Insane or not, it was happening.

  “Master, look at that. It’s like magic.”

  Oh God. Bran and Tyrone were there. He’d totally forgotten they weren’t alone. Lance pulled back, groaning deep in his chest in mortification and in the loss of that mouth.

  Tide cupped his face. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed.”

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t. This is my job.”

  “No.” It was Tyrone this time. “This is more than your job. Even Bran and I can feel what’s going on between you and Tide.”

  He was so fucked-up, so confused, and the only thing that made sense was Tide.

  Tide took another kiss, this one slow and gentle. “You’re stunning, Lance. I can’t help being attracted, and I don’t even want to try.”

  “I don’t know what to do now,” he whispered.

  “That’s why I’m the Dom, darling.” Tide gave him a wink, hands soft as they moved over him.

  He let Tide help him stand, move to the recliner in his bedroom. He thought he heard Tyrone murmur that lunch was on the way, but Tide’s hands on his body might have been interfering with his hearing. And then Tide kissed him again and he really didn’t care.

  Tide held him, their lips clinging, breath mingling, and he was happy, warm. Safe. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, but he did. Tide could kiss, too. God, it was stunning how good he was at it.

  “Sweet baby. You let yourself get all worried.” The words were interspersed with kisses. “You need to remember to breathe and trust in what we feel.” Tide cupped the back of his head, tilting it so the kiss went deeper.

  He couldn’t think like this. Not even a little. He didn’t care right now either.

  Sucking on his tongue, Tide made his balls ache, with only that. Slowly he found himself in Tide’s lap, his body slowly rocking against Tide’s belly. Those big hands were back on his ass, and it kind of felt like they belonged there.

  It was the freak-out. It had to be. That had to be why he was letting Tide open his jeans, too, and tug out his cock.

  “Can we…?” This was so odd.

  “Can we what, darling?” Tide pressed his cock against the man’s bared belly, rubbing them together.

  “Oh God.” His head fell back, the world spinning. His cock was raw from jacking off, but the smooth slide was delicious.

  “So hot.” Tide kissed the side of his mouth, tongue teasing.

  “I tried to tug off so much I couldn’t get hard,” he confessed.

  “Oh, your poor cock. You won’t touch it again without my permission.”

  Oh, that was impossible. Utterly impossible.

  Tide smiled at him. “I can see you’re already planning to disobey.” Tide kept them moving, Lance’s prick sliding on that amazing belly over and over.

  “I didn’t want to embarrass myself….” He loved the sensation of his sore cockhead rubbing, aching a bit.

  “You think you being hard is embarrassing? I think it’s complimentary.”

  “I’m supposed to be a professional….” He swallowed, again and again.

  “You are. Admiring the three of us, finding us hot and sexy, is not unprofessional—you’re supposed to be taking erotic pictures, right? They wouldn’t be very erotic if you didn’t get turned on by them.”

  “I did. You’re beautiful, so sensual.” A wet dream.

  “Thank you. You’re pretty damn sexy yourself.”

  Oh, he was okay, but not a muscled Adonis like these three.

  “I love the way you smell.” Tide touched the head of his cock, fingers dragging through the precome, then brought them up to his mouth.

  “Oh God.” He’d never seen anything like that. Never.

  Tide tasted the drops on his fingertips, tongue lapping at them. Lance couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop seeing this. Smiling, Tide offered over his fingers. His lips popped open, even though he couldn’t believe it. One finger slipped between his lips, the taste of his own precome bursting across his tongue.

  He whimpered softly and shot, his entire body jerking with it.

  Eyes closing, Tide groaned. He pulled his fingers away, wiping through Lance’s come this time. Again those sexy fingers were brought up, Tide offering him first taste. Sweat poured over him as he dared to take a taste. Tide moaned as Lance licked Tide’s fingers clean. Then Tide drew him close, cradled him, rocking him slow and easy.

  “I’ve got you,” Tide promised.

  “I’m so tired. I just….” He needed the tiniest rest.

  “Then take a nap, Lance. There’ll be food for you when you wake up.”

  “Just a second.”

  “Why not splurge and take two or three.”

  “Maybe.” Before he could say maybe two, he was asleep in Tide’s arms.

  Chapter Four

  TIDE HELD his sleeping boy, the scent of Lance’s come still in the air. God, it made him hard. And happy. Lance had let him help, had finally stopped running away.

  Tyrone stood in the doorway. “You’re going to have to have a bit of a lecture, yes? About downers and booze? I know he didn’t actually take them, but he was planning to. They’re a bad mix.”

  “I know how to handle my boy.”

  “Ooh. Possessive.” Tyrone chuckled. “Your lunch is here. Bran ordered pho, so it’s easily heated.”

  Tide found a smile for Tyrone. Yes, he was possessive. Lance was his. “Thanks, man.”

  “I think we’re going to head home if that’s okay. You need some time, and Bran and I want a long bath together.”

  “I’m sorry if I snarled, Tyrone. I didn’t mean to be bitchy.”

  “It’s new relationship energy and I’m not upset, but Bran needs his aftercare.”

  “Of course he does.” He had a smile for Tyrone. “Thank you, my friend. For the lunch and understanding. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Absolutely. Holler if you need us.”

  “Thank you, I will.” Though he didn’t think he would. Not today.

  “Give your boy my love.”

&n
bsp; “Always. Love you, man.”

  Tide turned his attention back to the young man in his arms. The little goatee tickled his chest, his boy heavy and trusting in his arms. He was going to put a stop to the cigarettes, to the constant jacking off. To the dangerous mixture of booze and pills. He wanted to hold on and give Lance what they both needed.

  He kissed the top of Lance’s head, fingers moving along Lance’s back.

  “Oh….” Lance wiggled, stretched for him.

  “Mmm. You’re a sweet, sensual boy, aren’t you? And so beautifully needy.”

  “What? Oh God.” Lance’s eyes popped open behind the wire-rimmed frames. “I fell asleep.”

  “You most certainly did.” He smiled, tracing Lance’s features.

  “I’m sorry. I was being silly.”

  “You were freaking out pretty badly and were considering mixing drugs and alcohol, and that is never a good thing.” Tide was just happy he’d kept Lance from taking anything.

  “I just needed the edge off.”

  “I can take your edges off far more efficiently and without stimulants or downers.” He had just proved that.

  “I was so…. Yesterday was maddening.”

  “But it was real, not dulled or hidden. Maddening is not necessarily a bad thing,” Tide suggested.

  Lance sighed softly and eased away from him.

  “Where are you going?” He wasn’t ready to let Lance go yet.

  “I don’t know.” Sweet baby.

  “You can stay right where you are. You fit perfectly.”

  “Did…. Did I sleep long?”

  “Not at all. Probably not long enough.” He petted Lance, fingers stroking right through his hair. He loved how his boy’s eyes crossed. “There’s nothing wrong with the BDSM lifestyle. There’s nothing wrong with thinking it’s hot.”

  “I didn’t judge. I didn’t,” Lance insisted.

  “You did. You judged yourself.”

  Lance shrugged. “I can’t compete with you guys.”

  “It’s not a competition, darling.” That way lay madness.

  “Everything’s a competition in one way or another.”

  “I want you. That’s not a competition.” It was simply the truth.

  “Why? Is it because I’m just an ass?” Lance looked so worried.