by Unknown
He propped himself on his elbows and met Terence in another scorching kiss. Terence constricted his ass around Evan’s cock and with one, two, three more thrusts Terence groaned into his mouth as he came. Evan followed soon after, with Terence’s cum warming their skin.
Terence slipped free of him and nestled at his side, and they kissed until the persistent pinging of a phone became too much to ignore. “Damn it,” Terence muttered, acknowledging a ringtone he’d set. He grabbed his mobile and showed Evan the text from Reid:
Did he say yes? Tell me, asshole!
Evan laughed. “You can say I did, but don’t tell him what the question was.”
* * * *
Settled on the balcony of Terence’s condo, Evan rested on the padded lounger and let a cool breeze caress him. He understood why his friend chose this place over other East Coast towns for his primary residence. Archer Beach, while possessing all the necessary components of a beach getaway, managed to keep the chain eateries and big box stores away from the shoreline. Archer Beach got its fair share of tourists, Terence told him, but crowds didn’t swell to saturation like in Rehoboth Beach or Ocean City during the peak seasons.
The building sat on the corner of Sylvester Street and Atlantic Avenue. Terence promised a thorough tour of the gay district and he anticipated meeting Terence’s new friends.
As another friend, as a couple…they were still working on that.
Terence joined him with two martini glasses. “You need more reasons to move? How about this view?”
Evan took his drink and sipped the liquor clouded with olive juice. “Yeah, it’s not like I ever get to see the ocean in Santa Barbara.”
“You live inland, as I recall.”
True. Saving up for a vineyard prevented luxury housing. Speaking of… “I know you want an answer, and I wanted to give it a few days before I committed to anything. No sense delaying, though. I don’t want to work for you, Terence.”
Terence’s smile fell.
“I want to work with you, as a business partner. Sell me some interest in Archer’s Ridge. It doesn’t have to be fifty-fifty, but I’ve wanted a winery of my own. I don’t mind owning a piece to start. Maybe with success we can expand.”
Terence held up his martini and clinked his glass. “I can’t wait to see what comes up.”
“At the winery, or later tonight?”
Terence sipped his drink and smiled. So did Evan.
THE END
I am Leigh Ellwood. I write smutty stories about people who like getting naked and having sex. Some have more sex than others, some have sex with people of the same gender, some have sex with more than one person, and still others have sex with toys and things that require the use of batteries. My stories range from a few thousand words to well past 70k.
Visit Leigh online:
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Love Hurts
By Shiloh Saddler
August, 1850
Columbus, Georgia
“Still haven’t taken that crop to market yet?” Whitaker’s voice bellowed as he rode his mount down the worn path to the field.
James cringed. They were poor but they weren’t hard of hearing. The man rankled him, and he knew he shouldn’t let the blowhard get under his skin. At least he wasn’t expected to keep conversation with their neighbor. He frowned at Daniel. That honor fell to him.
“Soon,” Daniel replied, rubbing hands on his trousers. “I plan on going to the market at the end of the week. Have you heard what the price of cotton is now?”
Whitaker laughed. “Why would I care a lick about the price of cotton? All I know is horse flesh. Don’t you know your business, Bronson?”
James gritted his teeth to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. Daniel hadn’t wanted to know the price of cotton until now. It would have brought on more stress and worry. Wasn’t like they could change the price anyway.
“Why are you here, Whitaker?” Daniel asked.
“Was just on my way home and thought I’d stop by and see how things were going.”
“Pretty much the same as they’ve been going yesterday and the day before,” Daniel grumbled.
Seemed to James their nosy neighbor did a lot of spying. Visiting with the man every day would have been seen as cordial if they actually got along.
“Well, I see you’re tired. I’ll be on my way.” Whitaker nodded to Daniel and then continued on to his property.
Oddly that went better than he’d expected. Normally every time Whitaker and Daniel had a conversation it turned into a heated exchange. Apparently Whitaker was capable of a friendly chat that didn’t escalate into an argument. Wonders never ceased.
“I still don’t trust him,” his lover said under his breath.
James grunted and straightened his aching back, setting his picking sack on the ground. So far Whitaker hadn’t actually tried anything beyond badgering Daniel to sell the farm. They had reason to be wary of the thickset man. He had shifty eyes and the rumors surrounding his shady activities ran from petty thievery to murder.
“Think it is dark enough?” James asked, indicating he was ready to call it a day. All the hours in the field blurred together. Still it was worth it to be at Daniel’s side.
Daniel chuckled. Dusk had passed hours ago. Obviously it was dark enough to call it a night. “I think so.”
They’d been working longer hours lately trying to get the picking done. Rubbing a sore spot between his shoulder blades, pride filled James’ chest. They’d worked themselves to the bone to make this dirt farm prosper. Soon all their labor would turn into money.
“Hopefully it will be enough.” His small voice broke through the stillness.
Daniel didn’t move from where he stood. “It is high quality cotton.”
James nodded. “Came from your father’s prized seeds.” But would it be enough? The bank had given Daniel until first harvest to pay off the loan. If they didn’t make enough with the cotton the bank could take possession of the farm and him, too. A lump sprouted in his throat and he swallowed around the obstruction.
No need to worry about that now. They’d done the best they could.
“It will be enough,” Daniel said. In a softer tone he added, “it has to be.” His lover turned and strolled over to him, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m going to the house to wrestle up supper. Join me?”
“In a few minutes.”
James headed to the river to his thinking spot. It really wasn’t anything special. Just the stump of a large pine stump that served as a good place sit a spell. If the worst happened and he was sold away he’d be strong for Daniel. It wasn’t his lover’s fault. The white man had a golden heart to match his golden hair.
“The cotton harvest is better than I ever expected.” Whitaker’s voice sounded ghostly in the darkness. James’ chest clenched. He glanced around trying to figure out where the words came from.
Finally he spied the man’s shadowy form pacing the opposite bank of the river.
“Young Master Bronson just might be able to pull this off. I can’t chance it.”
James’ body turned to stone and he held his breath afraid he might draw Whitaker’s attention. The man was thinking out loud and he definitely wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Time is running out. Bronson is too stubborn for his own good.” Whitaker kicked a rock sending it careening into the water with a splash. “Tomorrow, I’ll take care of Bronson tomorrow,” he vowed. “I’m not going to have some dirt farmer standing in the way of my expansion. The land should be pasture for my horses damn it.” Whitaker huffed and sulked away from the river.
James slowly let out the breath he had been holding. What did Whitaker mean by take care of Daniel? Were the rumors that Whitaker was capable of murder, true?
Maybe their neighbor had less sinister ideas. Perhaps he was going to offer Daniel more than a fair price for the farm. He could give Daniel an offer too good to refuse. If Whitaker would pay him
enough money to pay off the farm loan and a small stake to get started somewhere else, his lover would take it just to get away from the irritating man.
James waited until he was sure Whitaker was out of sight and then eased his tired limbs off the stump. At first he walked stiffly until his legs remembered how to move. The scent of a hearty stew beckoned him forward and his stomach rumbled in agreement.
Figuring out what to do about Whitaker would have to wait until he’d had some sustenance.
He opened the door to the cabin and Daniel smiled at him from their small table. “Was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep out there.”
“Sorry.” He noticed Daniel didn’t have a bowl of rabbit stew in front of him. “Guess you’d already eaten.”
“Of course not. I was waiting for you.”
“Oh.” It was all James could think to say. His lover had to be as hungry as he was. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t like dining alone.”
James sat across from him, and dished a bowl of stew. It was mostly large chunks of vegetables with chunks of rabbit thrown in. Good thing he’d started setting snares. The meal was enough to fill a man up and these days that was all he could hope for. Both he and Daniel had lost a little weight and gained muscle over the past few months.
“What’s on your mind?” Daniel asked.
James wetted his chapped lips. He knew he should share what he’d heard Whitaker say, but it could mean nothing. His lover didn’t need added stress, especially with such an easy solution in front of him. He hadn’t minded watching the two men arguing constantly over the past months. It had provided much needed amusement. However, time was running out. Truth was they might not make the money they needed.
James wanted to belong to Daniel not to the bank.
“Maybe you should sell out. I heard Whitaker talking to himself and he wants this land for pasture real bad. You could get him to sell for a high price. That’s what I was thinking.”
Daniel’s eyes mouth gaped. “Are you serious?” he hissed. “After how hard we’ve worked?”
The stew turned to sawdust in his mouth and he struggled to choke it down. “I don’t know if all our hard work is going to be enough.” He risked a glance at Daniel. His lover’s cheeks were flaming.
“Whitaker is desperate for this land,” he repeated. “You could get more money out of him.” His reasoning made perfect sense to him. “We could start again elsewhere after you’ve paid off the loan.”
The angry light went out of Daniel’s eyes. He slumped in his chair as if all his energy had been drained. “I’m sorry, James. I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared, too. But I can’t start over again. I’m not sure I have that in me.”
James bobbed his head fully understanding Daniel had sunk everything he had into this farm. They finished the meal in tense silence.
After washing out their dishes they shucked their clothes and climbed into bed. James’ anxiety from earlier hadn’t faded. He thrashed about under the sheet trying to get comfortable. Usually he was so tired at night it didn’t matter the bed was rock hard, he went right to sleep.
“Can’t you lie still?” Daniel grumbled.
James tried to comply, but the restlessness had taken a deep hold. Gradually he lost the struggle as his limbs were compelled to move.
Daniel rolled onto his side, wrapped his arms around him pinning him to his front. By the tight grip, James guessed he was trapped unless he voiced a complaint.
“Good night, James,” Daniel mumbled.
“Good night.” Eventually being in his lover’s embrace calmed him. His body naturally melted against Daniel and sleep finally enveloped him.
***
They hadn’t spoken much the next morning, and James hated that he’d put a wedge between them. His time with Daniel might be running out. He didn’t want their last days to be uncomfortable. They should be sating each other over and over as if the end of the world was near.
Because for him, it might be.
However, pleasuring each other would have to wait until the end of another long day.
They had just stopped for their noon meal in the field when James heard horse hooves. “Whitaker,” he announced, not bothering to sit under the tree. Seeing their neighbor made him lose his appetite.
Daniel sighed and set their meal aside. Dark circles under his lover’s eyes made James’ heart ache. He’d contributed to the man’s loss of sleep. They’d both gotten no more than a few hours of rest last night.
Daniel glared at Whitaker, not bothering to mask his displeasure. “You have bad timing, neighbor,” he announced. “I was just getting ready to eat.”
Whitaker eyed the meal unfolded in the grass and then smirked at Daniel. “More bread and salt pork? You should thank me from sparing your stomach the torture.”
“I’m not in the mood for your insults, Whitaker.” Daniel spoke coldly and evenly, each word carrying a warning.
Whitaker dismounted. “By the looks of your cotton crop, I bet you’re going to come up short.”
Daniel laughed. “You said yesterday you didn’t even know the price of cotton.”
“True, true,” Whitaker said, nodding. “But I looked into it after our talk. Do you want to know what the price is now?”
“No.”
Whitaker shrugged. “Suit yourself. I just thought I’d offer to save you from your own destruction once again. I’ll give you enough to pay off your debt and one hundred extra.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “Not interested.”
“One hundred and fifty then.”
“No.”
Whitaker strode toward Daniel, eyes narrowed and intense like a wolf on the prowl. “One hundred and fifty on top of covering your loan is my final offer. It is more than this land is worth.”
For the first time James noticed Whitaker’s new black riding gloves. They looked one size too big for his hands, and the fingers on his right hand were unnaturally bugled.
James’ heart leaped to his throat. Brass knuckles.
Whitaker stopped within a throws distance of his lover and James forced himself to walk up behind him. Normally he didn’t get involved in their arguments, but this was different.
Whitaker spat at his feet. “This has nothing to do with you, darkie.”
Every muscle tightening, James kept his gaze averted enough to be respectful.
Daniel’s nostrils flared. “Whatever you have to say to me James can hear, too. I keep no secrets from him.”
Whitaker grunted. “No, indeed. You share everything with him.”
Color drained from Daniel’s face, but he quickly regained his composure and his fingers twitched as if eager to form a fist. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Their loudmouth neighbor threw his head back and laughed, and then his beady eyes snapped between Daniel and James. “You know exactly what I mean, Bronson.”
James gritted his teeth, his insides twisting in a painful knot. The terrible feeling that had loomed over him since Whitaker rode up grew more intense and bile soured his mouth. Whatever was about to happen was not going to end well.
Whitaker sneered at his lover, his beard and bushy eyebrows making him look pure evil. “We don’t need your kind around here.”
Daniel boldly took a step forward crowding into Whitaker’s space. “My kind? What would that be? Someone with more education and manners than you? Or were you referring to the fact I’m just a poor farmer? I suppose no one should be allowed to claim your precious grazing land.”
Daniel squared his shoulders, preparing to fight. Seeing him getting into the stance, Whitaker didn’t even back up.
James realized their neighbor wanted Daniel to fight, especially to start the fight. An invisible weight pressed on his chest making it difficult to breathe. He couldn’t just stand by and watch Daniel beaten into a bloody mess or worse. He could throw a punch, but his lover was far from a skilled fighter.
“You’ve
been itching for a tussle for a long time, Bronson. I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Daniel shook his head. “Fighting won’t accomplish a thing.”
“Might clear the air,” Whitaker suggested, trying to bait him.
“The air won’t ever be clear as long as you’re breathing it.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Bronson. You’re a slave lover.”
James’ toes curled and he willed himself not to act hastily. He knew that comment would sting his lover. Might be the exact button Whitaker needed to push.
If Daniel threw back the truth that many owners took their female slaves to bed he’d be tipping his hand. Curse the double standards in society.
“I take care of my help,” Daniel said, trying to burn Whitaker with his glare. “Something you know nothing about. I suppose with all your workers you’re not so concerned about their health. James is all I have, so yes I do take care of him.”
James sucked in his breath, hoping that comment would be enough to please Whitaker and defuse the situation.
“Seems odd him sleeping in the house with you when you have a perfectly good barn, an unoccupied one at that.”
Daniel raised his fist but before he could act James lunged at Whitaker throwing the hardest punch he could to the man’s jaw. His head whipped sideways, shock in his eyes.
Although he wanted to attack the man more, he knew he’d successfully drawn the man’s anger to himself and protected his lover. Chest tight, he breathed hard, his heart drumming against his ribcage. Head bowed, eyes closed, he waited for the worst.
Daniel hadn’t said a word or even gasped. He sensed him still standing near, likely frozen in place. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Even his thoughts had grown sluggish.