Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  Fuck, he felt like the luckiest son of a bitch on earth. He settled against Lance’s back for a moment, panting, just enjoying the steamy closeness the shower afforded them.

  “I wish…. This is amazing.” Lance sounded dazed.

  “It is amazing. And what do you wish?” He stroked Lance’s belly.

  “That this was my real life.”

  “It is, Lance. I’m as real as rain.”

  Lance leaned into him, hummed softly. He turned the boy and kissed him, letting the water fall over them a little longer. Lance swayed into him, moaned deep in his chest.

  “Now we should go get dressed and start our day,” Tide suggested.

  “Uh-huh. Sorry. Yes.”

  “Shh. Stop apologizing. I don’t want to hear you apologize any more today. For anything. Even if something actually is your fault.”

  “What?”

  “The word sorry will not pass your lips again today.”

  “I… I don’t know if…. I mean, what if I am? I am a lot.”

  “For today you don’t express it.” Later they could explore the reasoning behind each of Lance’s apologies. He thought it was another layer of hiding. And he was going to break Lance of the habit.

  GOD, WHAT was wrong with him? Lance had just… in the shower… with models here. God. God, he sucked. Except that hadn’t been what he was doing, was it?

  Tide dried him off, not seeming in a hurry at all. “God, I love your skin. So lovely and pale. Marks beautifully.” Tide lingered at his neck.

  “I….” Lance arched, the little tingles enough to drive him out of his mind.

  “We should get dressed. You won’t come again until after Tyrone and Bran leave and then it’ll be at my hand. And no running away, either, no matter how turned on you get. We won’t be upset to know we make you hard, I promise.”

  “I… I can’t think like this.” He pulled away, shaking his head.

  “I’m not sure thinking is what you need.” Tide grabbed his clothes in one hand and Lance’s hand in the other, leading him to his own bedroom. “Get dressed, darling.”

  Lance threw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweater on top of that, then he started hunting for his glasses. Where had he left them?

  “Do you need the sweater? It’s pretty warm in here.” Tide handed him his specs, smiling down at him. “They were in the bathroom.”

  “I….” He did need the sweater: for protection, for armor, for distance.

  Tide waited until he’d put on his glasses, then tugged the sweater up and over his head, tossing it over onto the bed and then readjusting his glasses for him. “There. The casual look suits you. Not that I have any doubt you’d look great no matter what you wear.”

  “But….” That was his sweater. His…. “It does?” Why did that matter? He was the photographer.

  “Yeah. And with the glasses? You’ve got this adorable nerdy chic thing going on that’s sexy as hell.”

  He felt his cheeks heat, felt himself begin to flutter.

  Tide wrapped an arm around him and pulled him up against the solid body. He was kissed, Tide taking his mouth, sucking on his tongue. “Okay, let’s go get to work.”

  “Uh-huh. Work.” Like a professional. Like a grown-up. Focus.

  Tide kissed his nose, then headed out of the bedroom. Lance nodded and straightened his hair, then headed out to get his camera.

  Tyrone and Bran were flushed, clothes looking like they’d been hastily put back on.

  “I see you two kept yourselves busy,” Tide teased them.

  “Just revving up.” Tyrone looked like the Cheshire cat.

  “So what were you thinking, Tyrone?” Tide asked, sliding a hand along Lance’s spine to settle just above his ass.

  “A little fun on the balcony. We could bind Bran to the railing.”

  “Oh damn.” Tide nodded, then looked at him. “Lance? Tyrone could fuck him like that—your railings are high enough and it would be amazing with the city in the background….”

  “I…. It’s up to Bran, of course. He’s the one exposed.” Outside? He shrugged—he’d shot nudes in more public places. “At least this has some privacy. I broke into an abandoned amusement park once….”

  “Oh yeah? I want to hear that story and see the shots.” Tide’s interest was immediate, lighting up his eyes.

  “They’re… they’re intense. We were scared and it shows.”

  “Sounds great. I love intense.”

  Lance grinned, went to look at the levels outside. “Storm’s coming in. It’ll make for great shots.”

  “Excellent.” Tyrone rubbed his hands together like some dime-show villain. “Okay, boy. Strip.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?” Lance asked.

  “Of course!” Tyrone gave him a smile. “You’re the photographer.”

  “The thin pants… as the rain comes, they’ll look amazing.”

  “All of us?” Tide asked.

  Bran was already going through their bag and pulling the pants out for all of them.

  “Yes.” Lance would stay in the doorway, hidden.

  All three guys began to strip, clearly excited. He had to admire, catching random shots when he could. The gauzy, thin pants were obscene, playing peekaboo with the eye. It made for some amazing visuals. He kept shooting, the action dissolving his exhaustion.

  Bran moaned when he turned and saw Tyrone and Tide. “Oh, Masters. Please, I want to worship you, both of you.”

  “When the pictures have been taken.” Tyrone touched Bran’s cheek. “Keep hold of all that want and take it out to the balcony.”

  Tide led the way, the three of them stepping out the door. The Doms spread, flexed, posed for him, and suddenly he wished he was Bran, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t and he wasn’t going to be.

  “Perfect. Just do what you feel. I’ll be in here.” He knelt down and started capturing the moment.

  Bran was bent over the rail on the side of the balcony, affording Lance a perfect side view, and Bran’s hands were tied to the top rail. He arched his back, the light shining through the gauzy pants. The dark clouds were rolling in, promising a tempest, and Bran’s expression was unbearably excited. They all looked great now, but the coming rain was going to up the ante tenfold. At least.

  “Master, please. Love.” Bran looked at Tyrone like he was the center of the world.

  Tyrone put a hand in the small of Bran’s back. “Patience.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Bran nodded, writhing on the patio.

  “He could take us in tandem, me then you, then me then you,” suggested Tyrone.

  Tide shook his head right away. “Lance and I aren’t at a place yet to play.” Tide shrugged. “We might never be. He’s mine.”

  Lance’s lips parted and his entire body flushed with pleasure.

  “I’ll just stand behind you and rock with your thrusts. It’ll look pretty good for the camera, won’t it, Lance?”

  “Yes. Yes, it’ll be perfect.” He shivered.

  Tide smiled at him, eyes hot. And directed entirely at him. He ducked his head, hiding behind his camera. Tide kept looking at him, though, the air practically smoldering.

  “I…. The storm is coming.” And Lance wanted to touch Tide.

  “That’s what we all want, eh?” Tide asked. “Pictures in the storm.”

  “Yes.” Yes, he wanted to watch, wanted to make them as beautiful in still as they were in motion.

  Tide was still looking at him, watching him as Tyrone opened Bran up. The rain began to fall, fat, heavy drops that crashed into their bodies. Tide lifted his face to it, the drops sliding on his face, on his naked chest.

  “Oh God,” Lance whispered, licking his lips as he kept shooting.

  The pants they were wearing were quickly soaked, clinging to their skin. Those magnificent cocks were outlined, highlighted. For the first time ever, he wanted to be in the photo.

  Tyrone began to fuck Bran, Tide moving behind Tyrone, following his motions. Lance stayed low, cr
ouched down, snapping over and over. Bran’s face was pure bliss, the lithe body arching, writhing as Tyrone fucked him.

  Tide’s hand was splayed out against Tyrone’s back, pale against the shockingly dark skin. The water fell down around them, on them, leaving drops and rivulets running along all those muscles. Bran’s hands twisted in the bonds, pulling hard. Shifting, Tyrone punched in hard and Bran screamed, mouth open wide.

  The skies opened up and Lance shot a couple more frames before running to get them towels. They came in, laughing and wet and so sexy it hurt.

  Lance got everyone towels and started more coffee and water for tea.

  Bran stripped off his pants, dried off, and came over. “Can I help, honey?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to. You got wet for me.”

  “Oh no, honey. I got wet for him.” Bran shot a hot look at Tyrone. “That you got pictures too was just a bonus.”

  “I….” He grinned. “Then I guess you can help.”

  “Cool!” Bran practically bounced next to him.

  “There’s water for tea or coffee. It’s chilly.”

  “Yeah. It was hot, though, my master fucking me out in the storm.”

  “Yeah. It made beautiful pictures.” Lance was pleased and was looking forward to seeing how they’d turned out.

  “I can’t wait to see them.”

  “Soon. I can show you some of the finals from earlier.” That’s what he’d been up all night doing, after all.

  “I’d love that.” Bran pulled down his coffee cups and teacups. “Master Tyrone will have some coffee, Master Tide would like tea, and I want a pop, if you’ve got one.”

  “I have Coke, yes. And diet.”

  “Oh, diet, given you have it.”

  “I do.” He had to mix it up. “I used the regular to add to whiskey.”

  “Oh, whiskey. Tyrone likes it neat.” Bran leaned in and murmured. “Tide has to cut it with ice.”

  “Yeah? What about you?”

  “I’m a lightweight. I like cocktails.” Bran grinned. “You hear that? I said cock tails.”

  Lance blinked, then started giggling. Bran laughed with him, eyes twinkling merrily.

  “Naughty boys, laughing at us,” Tyrone teased.

  That had Bran laughing more.

  “I like being naughty,” Bran said, looking at Lance. “How about you?”

  Lance shook his head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me naughty before….”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. Maybe you just haven’t had the right Mas—man before.”

  “Maybe? I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not.” He poured two cups of coffee. “How does he take his coffee and what kind of tea? I have apple cinnamon and Earl Grey.”

  “My master likes the tiniest bit of sugar in his coffee. And I’m pretty sure Master Tide would prefer the Earl Grey, with lots of milk.”

  “Okay.” He handed the cup and the sugar to Bran. He didn’t want to fuck anything up.

  Bran put a few grains of sugar into the cup, then grabbed his soda. “I’ll let you bring Master Tide’s tea to him. He’ll like that.”

  “Okay, sure.” Lance finished his coffee while the tea was steeping, then added the milk and brought it over.

  “Thank you.” Tide’s fingers slid along his as Tide took the mug from him.

  “You’re welcome.” He offered Tide a smile, a nod.

  Tide sat and patted the spot next to him on the couch. Lance sat, wishing now that he’d brought his cup over so he had something to do with his hands.

  “You didn’t want anything?” Tide asked.

  “I had a cup while I waited for the tea. Besides, I didn’t get wet.”

  “You did earlier….” Tide gave him a wink.

  “That was a shower. It wasn’t cold.”

  “You were wet, though. But yes, not cold. Very, very hot.” God, Tide looked at him like he was fascinating.

  “Tide!” This wasn’t the time.

  “Yes, darling?” Butter wouldn’t melt in that mouth. That very beautiful mouth.

  “You’re naughty now.”

  Tide waggled his eyebrows. “I want to be even naughtier.”

  Lance looked at Bran, who was grinning. He couldn’t even meet Tyrone’s eyes.

  “You’ve got a shy one there,” Tyrone said.

  “Yeah, he’s perfect.” Tide smiled at him.

  “I should get the towels in the dryer.” It would give him an excuse to escape, maybe take a little shot to calm his nerves.

  “They’ll keep.” Tide’s fingers stayed twined with his.

  “Bran and I enjoy seeing how happy you make Tide,” Tyrone told him. “He means a lot to us.”

  “He’s… he’s a very good man.”

  “Thank you, Lance. I don’t think they mean to put you on the spot,” Tide noted, voice dry.

  “Speak for yourself, Tide! We need to make sure he’s good enough for you.” Tyrone said.

  Lance shook his head. “I’m not. I’m just a dude that takes amazing pictures.” Easy as pie.

  “You are too!” Bran said immediately.

  Tide nodded. “You have to stop putting yourself down.”

  Tyrone looked right at him. “You are enough for Tide to choose.”

  “Yeah. And I chose you.”

  “I….” Oh, he didn’t like having the attention. All three of them were looking at him. Intently. He stood up. “I’ll get more drinks for everyone.”

  “I think we’re all good.” Tide’s hand wrapped around his arm.

  Lance blinked down at the fingers circling his skin.

  “Come sit with me again. Please?” Tide asked.

  “Okay. It’s odd,” he whispered. “To have people looking at me.”

  “These aren’t people, they’re Tyrone and Bran, my best friends.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Tide growled softly, the sound sexy as hell. “Lance. What did I say about that word?”

  “What?”

  “Sorry—you’re not allowed to use it for the day.”

  “I have….” He took a deep breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

  “Lance!”

  Bran gasped, then started giggling.

  “What?” Lance asked.

  “You apologized again,” Tyrone told him.

  “I didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t trying to. I mean….” Lance hadn’t meant to.

  Tide pulled him close and kissed him. “It’s become so automatic you don’t even know you’re doing it, do you?”

  “You kissed me.”

  Tide smiled, slow and wide. “I did.”

  Suddenly the room seemed to disappear, the world tightening to Tide.

  “Would you like me to do it again?” Tide asked.

  “Uh-huh….”

  Tide moved in slowly, very slowly, face coming closer until their lips pressed together. Lance moaned, lips parting as he arched, reached out for Tide. Tide’s hand landed on his back, tugging him in closer as Tide’s tongue slipped into his mouth.

  Lance snuggled in, tongue sliding along Tide’s. Tide tasted like the tea he’d drunk, and sweet and spicy both.

  “There’s my good boy.”

  Tide’s words made Lance flush.

  Tide stroked his cheek, thumb drifting against the side of his mouth. His lips parted, the motion immediate, instinctive. Tide’s thumb pushed into his mouth, touching his tongue. He began to suck. What else could he possibly do? Tide’s eyelids dropped to half-mast, a low, sexy as hell groan coming from him. Lance’s eyes fell closed, his world slowly spinning.

  Tide drew in a deep breath. “Sweet fuck, Lance, that is good.”

  “God, he’s a natural,” noted Tyrone.

  Lance wasn’t listening.

  “Uh-huh,” murmured Tide, voice full of heat and want.

  Lance settled so that he was straddling Tide’s thighs, spread wide and pressed close. Tide tugged off his glasses and set them aside, then Tide’s free hand wrapped around his ass, roll
ing him so their cocks rubbed through what felt like far too much clothing. He thought he’d be too tired, too spent to even spring wood, but there he was, hard as a rock.

  Bran moaned. “Beautiful….”

  Lance shivered, pressed closer. “Please.”

  “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to leave you hanging.” Tide squeezed his ass again, thumb sliding along his tongue now, like Tide was fucking his mouth with it.

  With his eyes closed, he let himself believe they were alone. Tide hummed and the finger disappeared, Tide’s mouth covering his now. One hand wrapped around the back of his head, cradling it, holding him. He was drawn into Tide’s body, held as close as he could be. Lance melted, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  The hand on his ass pushed into his jeans, fingers sliding on his skin. Oh. He gasped, lips parting farther.

  “Need to spank you again, I don’t feel any heat left over.”

  He shook his head, butt pushing into Tide’s fingers.

  “Oh yes, I do. You’ll need to be naughty so I have an excuse.”

  “I’m not naughty.” Not.

  “Oh, I bet you could be if you wanted to.” Tide’s finger slid along the bridge of his nose. “I bet you could come up with all sorts of naughty things to do.”

  “I bet I could help,” Bran put in, giggling.

  It suddenly rushed back to him that they weren’t alone. “Oh God. I’m doing this. Here.”

  “We are.”

  “I don’t do things like this….”

  “Make love? We’ve done it for the last couple days,” Tide noted.

  “In public. I mean, in company.”

  “Tyrone and Bran don’t count. They adore you.”

  “Oh… I’m not…. Yeah?”

  “Guys?” Tide glanced over at them.

  Tyrone chuckled. “We adore you, sweet thing.”

  “Mmm. We do.” Bran came over, hand sliding on his arm. “Me especially.”

  “I….” Lance looked at Tide, panicking.

  “Shh. You’re a sexy man, Lance. And you’re mine.” Tide’s mouth covered his, the kiss warm, comforting.

  Tide’s. The idea was oddly satisfying.

  Bran’s hand slid along his arm and away, then it was just him and Tide, everything else fading into the background again.