Gambling on Love

by Jane Davitt

  “He knew he couldn’t enforce it so he didn’t bother trying, you mean. Why set yourself up to fail?” Abe said with unexpected shrewdness. “Can we stop talking about Peter now?”

  You still don’t know anything about Peter, Gary nearly blurted. Peter hadn’t needed to try to enforce his obedience. It hadn’t even been about the money or the lifestyle. It had been about power, and the intoxication of getting to spend so much time around a man who could literally have anything money could buy. Anything except time. He could acquire whatever he liked, and what he’d chosen was Gary. That had value to both of them. It wasn’t only a set of roles they’d played.

  “Not if you want me to be him.”

  Abe shrugged. “I never met the guy, and since he’s dead, that won’t change, but I’ve heard enough to make me think I wouldn’t have blown him if my throat was on fire. I was offering to do you, not him.”

  “So hospitable.” Gary couldn’t argue with Abe’s assessment; he’d felt the same way about Peter too many times himself. Peter probably wouldn’t have arranged his final years the way he had if he’d been any good at relationships. “Or desperate. How long has it been since you got any?”

  He watched Abe work it out. It was ridiculous that Abe had to. The answer should’ve been “a few hours ago in town” or “last week,” but judging from the flush rising in Abe’s face, it had been much longer than that. “I don’t know. Three months or so? I’ve been busy.”

  Jesus. It was pitiful. What a fucking waste of a hot guy. What the hell had happened to Abe? “If you get your teeth cleaned more often than you get your balls squeezed dry, I hope you were coming up with a plan for world peace, because otherwise, that’s sad.”

  “I’m not a horny teenager. I’ve got more to think about than sex.”

  “Bullshit. When a man in his late sixties with a terminal heart condition—that’s how he died, in case you were wondering and didn’t like to ask—gets laid two to three times a week but you’re going dry for months, you’re doing something wrong.”

  “Yeah, I must be. You’re still dressed and I’m still standing.”

  “The two aren’t connected. You probably haven’t looked in a mirror, but take it from me, you look like shit. If you pass out with my dick in your mouth, I’ll need therapy, and right now I can’t afford it.” He shivered, a violent shudder that had his teeth chattering against each other, the cumulative effect of his physical state plus all the memories he’d been ruthlessly dragging up. He hadn’t eaten or slept well since Peter’s death.

  “Compared to you, I’m peachy.” Abe’s expression softened. “You’re shaking again. Come to bed. My bed. Let me get you warm.”

  The sure and certain knowledge Abe meant what he said, that it wasn’t a cheesy line but genuine concern, made Gary want to open the closest door and walk out into the snow. He couldn’t cope with kindness.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You can say that after what you’ve told me?” Abe shook his head. “You’re so far away from fine you’d need a telescope to see it. Forget the sex, forget the way we keep fighting, and come to fucking bed. I need waking up every few hours, remember?”

  Gary studied Abe, who looked pale, tired, and in pain. He’d kept Abe standing up for the last fifteen minutes spilling acid-sour words over him, and there was a limit to his selfishness. He nodded, and Abe’s frown smoothed out.

  “Well, okay then.” Abe turned off the kitchen light. Gary stumbled on the way through the dark family room. Abe reached back and steadied him without commenting.

  Maybe Gary was procrastinating, putting off the moment when he found himself in bed with Abe for the first time in years, but he paused and looked at the window. “I want to see if it’s still snowing.”

  “It is, but look all you like. Don’t open the door.”

  The thought of the icy blast that would come through an open door made Gary’s skin crawl. “No, I only want to see it.”

  Abe flicked a switch on the wall between the window and door, illuminating the porch and what lay behind.

  “Shit, look at it,” Gary whispered. “If we were still out in that . . .”

  Snow had piled up, smoothing out the landscape so it was difficult to judge distance. The light illuminated a small area and the snow fell too thickly to see much, but he felt smothered. The storm blotted out the world, surrounding the cabin, a cold, white tide, slow, inexorable. The wind had died down slightly, but the snow still fell, filling the air with a dense cloud of thick flakes.

  He shrank back and found Abe behind him, not blocking his retreat but providing something to lean against. Abe rubbed his hands along Gary’s upper arms, anchoring him in the warmth of the cabin. Gary shuddered, wanting to close his eyes but unable to look away from the maelstrom outside.

  “We’re safe here.”

  Pressed so close, Gary felt Abe’s chest rise and fall with his breath, but Abe had angled his body so Gary’s ass was against his thigh. If he had an erection, he was keeping it away from Gary.

  Gary supposed Abe was being considerate, a total fucking gentleman. Abe had made the offer to kneel, but Gary hadn’t taken him up on it. Abe was making an effort to be polite. Telling him it was safe.

  But facing the storm, Gary remembered that nothing was safe. They could go to bed and say it was for warmth, but there was no denying the fact they were still hot for each other. Something would happen. Pretending otherwise wasn’t showing strength of will; it was postponing the inevitable.

  Instead of letting it happen, he could make it happen. It could be, for him, a wordless scream of defiance at the storm, at the cold fucking world that’d taken away everything he’d worked for, everyone he’d cared about, and left him with nothing but one last instruction to carry out.

  He slid his fingers between Abe’s, then drew their linked hands down to his cock. It was hard, his body responding to the threat outside and the temptation behind him. When he shaped Abe’s hand around his erection, Abe groaned and tightened his fingers.

  “You don’t want this.” Abe’s voice was husky, but he nuzzled Gary’s neck, low down where it met his shoulder. Gary relished the softness of Abe’s lips and the scrape of his teeth. It made his body go wild with need, as fierce as the storm he watched.

  “You are so fucking wrong.” He felt better with every shift of Abe’s hand. “Do it.” He shoved down the pants and kicked them away, leaving him naked from the waist down, apart from the socks he had no intention of taking off. He grabbed Abe’s hand again and brought it back to its former position, snug against his cock. “Jesus, do it. And do that again with your mouth. Bite me. Let me feel it. You know what I could take. Now . . . God, I can take anything you give me.”

  Abe bit down harder; Gary’s body so easily interpreted the flash of pain as pleasure. The jolt disintegrated the last of his doubts that Abe could give him what he wanted—what he needed. He couldn’t control the storm—even from his sheltered spot by the window, facing it like a conductor with one hell of a baton waving—but he could control Abe. Abe, who’d wanted to kneel for him, so fucking generous of him, so very fucking—

  Abe got busy with both hands, his touch not at all tentative. The reach-around would feel like jerking off to Abe, Gary thought as he leaned back against the solid wall of Abe’s chest. Same angle, different cock. Abe’s erection was rigid against his ass, there to be rubbed against, the fleece covering it frustrating Gary’s attempts to get it riding the crack of his ass.

  Impatient, he reached back and grabbed handfuls of fabric, tugging until Abe got the message.

  “Demanding son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Abe said into his ear, the words a warm tickle. “You want me naked or just the pants off?”

  He smiled at Abe’s question, a fierce, exultant grin. Abe was making sure whatever he did was exactly the way Gary wanted it. And hadn’t it almost always been that way, even during their short time together as teenagers, no matter who was technically on top?

  Abe p
robably hadn’t done much exploring since then, threesomes aside. Staying so close to home, he wouldn’t have had many opportunities to try new things. Gary had. When it came to his sexual kinks, Gary had planted a flag on the moon. He no longer had to guess about what might work for him.

  “All of it. I want you bare.”

  It meant losing Abe’s hands on him and the warm body behind him, but he decided to trust the upcoming activity to keep him from freezing. He skinned off his sweatshirt and T-shirt, shivering when air struck his skin. Abe stripped down completely, moving with a gratifying speed.

  A moment later, Abe’s warmth was back, the sensation of skin on skin making Gary hiss out an appreciative breath.

  Gary had gotten used to Peter’s lean, wiry body, never caring that the hair on it was gray, the man so much older. Peter’s appeal had lain in his utter confidence and unbreakable strength of will, and Gary wouldn’t have swapped that for rock-hard abs and smooth, unlined skin. He’d had to be so careful with Peter toward the end, though, giving him what was asked, but always with an eye to not letting him do too much.

  Pressing against Abe’s muscular body, Gary realized he’d missed being with someone his age. Someone healthy. He didn’t need to worry about Abe’s endurance. Abe was tired and suffering from the effects of the blow to his head, but he wouldn’t die from those things. He was clearly as willing and able as Gary to push the physical complaints aside for the moment. And unlike Peter, Abe wouldn’t demand control in exchange for the pain and pleasure he could provide.

  Shameless, Gary squirmed his ass against the rigid length of Abe’s erection, wanting to feel it between his legs. He didn’t require much maneuvering to get it there. Abe was taller, but the difference lay mostly above the waist, and their legs were the same length.

  Abe picked up on his intent quickly enough, sliding his cock back and forth a few times between Gary’s clenched thighs. “God, that feels good.” He dropped kisses across the back of Gary’s neck between words.

  “Yeah. It does.” There was plenty to feel. Abe’s cock was a generous size, the skin covering it smooth and hot.

  Abe gave a grunt that could’ve meant anything and went back to what he’d been doing, stroking across Gary’s stomach, tracing the grooves leading down to his groin before capturing Gary’s cock and balls. His hands were gentle, but his mouth was merciless, marking Gary’s neck and shoulder with bites, sucking the skin until it burned hot. Gary rolled his head against Abe’s shoulder, moaning with uninhibited pleasure and exposing his neck and throat for more. It was liberating to demand what he wanted, and selfish though it might be, he didn’t intend to stop.

  If he was trapped here for a while—and judging by the obliterated landscape, that was obviously the case—he’d make sure he left Abe with plenty of happy memories to replace the bitterness. This first time, though, it would be all about him.

  Odd how he didn’t feel the need to explain that to Abe, but there was no hint of confusion from the man behind him. Abe jacked him off at the perfect speed, apparently enjoying himself. Gary relaxed as much as he could with his body thrumming with sexual energy, his balls drawn up tight and compact, his dick slick-headed and aching to spill. He squeezed Abe’s cock between his legs, in no hurry to reach a climax.

  Abe swept his hand up to Gary’s right nipple, resting two fingertips against it and waiting for Gary’s approval to bring them together in a pinch. Gary smiled.

  “Do it. Use your nails. Hurt it. Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

  “You’ve turned into such a sick fuck.” No hint of censure there. Abe’s fingers were strong, and he did what he’d been told, ignoring Gary’s bitten-off whimpers. He dug his short, blunt nails into the flesh around Gary’s nipple, forcing it to stand proud, ready to be teased and twisted.

  Jesus, it hurt. Not like clamps—Abe’s fingers lacked their delicately vicious bite—but sharp enough. His untouched nipple throbbed in sympathy, pebble-hard, suffused with blood. The pain radiated across his chest and down, an arrow aimed at his cock. He clenched his fists to keep from touching Abe and moved, fucking the shallow tunnel of Abe’s hand, riding the dick wedged between his cheeks. Abe said his name, a low growl of need, passionate enough to make him close his eyes and block out the whirl of snowflakes for a moment.

  Abe bit down on his collarbone again, worrying at a place already scraped raw, and Gary arched up, anchored by Abe’s hands and mouth and unyielding strength.

  He came, unable to prevent it, leaning back against Abe so the spunk pumping out of him in ragged spurts struck his stomach and chest, the strongest finding its way as high as Abe’s tormenting hand. His body jerked in time with his cock, guttural moans emerging from his mouth. It felt so fucking good it hurt.

  “Yes.” Abe made the word a groan, his hands still now, his body rigid with untapped tension, granite against Gary’s back. “Oh God.”

  Through a sated haze of pleasure, his satisfied body still singing the praises of a ball-draining, mind-blowing climax, Gary realized Abe trembled on the edge of an orgasm. He was clearly holding back and waiting for permission to join the party.

  Gary disentangled himself from Abe and turned his back on the storm. Abe stood wrapped in the shadows of the room, chest heaving, so fucking ready Gary could almost smell it.

  “I take it back.” Gary pitched his voice low so Abe had to lean closer to catch his words. “Cherry’s my new favorite flavor and I’m hungry.”

  He thought he saw Abe try to smile, but the expression wavered when Gary reached out to run his finger through the gathered liquid at the head of Abe’s cock: viscous, salt-sweet against his tongue when he licked his finger clean. Abe closed his eyes, a desperate sound—inarticulate, pleading—coming from his mouth.

  “Look at me.” Gary tapped Abe’s shoulder. “Look at me when I do this, or I’ll stop.”

  “Stop and I’ll get you down on the ground and jerk off on your face.”

  Where Abe had found the ability to form words again, Gary didn’t know, but he chuckled, delighted.

  “God, yes, you would, wouldn’t you? Don’t worry, you won’t need to. I’m a self-centered bastard and we both know it, but I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

  Well, he might’ve if Abe hadn’t done such a good job of bringing him off, but no need to share that with the class.

  Abe grabbed his hand and, echoing what Gary had done, brought it to his cock. “Gary.” He spoke through his teeth and Jesus, he was shaking, fine tremors running over him, and Gary’s name sounded like “please.” “I need to come, now.”

  If this had been Peter in front of him, Gary knew he’d be on his knees already, mouth open, waiting to be filled. But even in the darkness, his emotions chaotic enough to render his judgment suspect, there was no chance he would mistake Abe for Peter. Not even in a dream, and so much of this felt like one. Maybe he was still in his car, slowly freezing to death, and he’d conjured up this final fantasy to go out on.

  But the solid heat of Abe’s cock against his palm was real enough. No dream, only sex with a man who seemed to have no problem with ordering Gary about until they were naked, when he ceded control without hesitation.

  Gary had agreed to Peter’s terms because he wanted what he got from the arrangement. He’d spent those years kneeling for Peter and taking pain, which they’d both enjoyed, and learning how to be in control of himself, absolutely, always . . . Oh, Peter might not have seen it that way, but Gary had. Peter had also shown him how to control a lover and shape their life down to the smallest detail, but Gary didn’t want to replicate that with another man. He’d never wanted to be Peter. He had his own ideas and fantasies.

  Abe made a nice test run. Put like that, in the quietness of his head, Gary felt a stab of guilt. He was a transient here now; he was using Abe, and that wasn’t fair—

  “Gary, please.”

  Gary’s thoughts snapped back to the man in front of him. Abe had sounded as if it hurt him to beg, but he couldn’t h
elp it. He was waiting for Gary to stroke him to a well-earned climax. Gary quelled the absurd impulse to apologize for keeping Abe waiting, and took a deep breath to steady himself.

  “Stand still.” He took his hand off Abe’s cock, moving it an inch away. Abe already was standing still, if Gary overlooked the shivers, but Gary wanted to regain at least a semblance of control. “If you move, I’ll stop.”

  “You still talk too much.”

  He wished it were light enough to see more of Abe’s face than the tight grimace twisting his mouth.

  “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “Get used to it. I talk. I babble. I jerk people off who’re begging me. Is that you, Abe? Is that what we’re doing here?”

  “It’s what you want.” A shrug was audible in Abe’s voice, though his shoulders didn’t move. “I don’t mind playing it this way.”

  He was tempted to walk away, leave Abe standing here by the window, dick hard and slick-tipped. It would serve him right for being so fucking nice.

  Abe wasn’t that nice, though. He also didn’t know the rules of the game Gary had spent so many years playing. After another few seconds of silence, he cupped his dick. “Or I’ll take care of it myself.”

  Gary folded his arms. “Okay. Do it.”

  Abe’s hand whipped up and down, beating off at a speed that told Gary how worked up he was. He wasn’t giving Gary a show. There were no teasing flicks of his thumb, no sucking of a finger shiny with pre-cum, no flirtatious glances from under lowered lashes. Abe jerked off at a brutal pace as if he were alone in the room, his eyes closed, his breath coming in short, choppy grunts and gasps. Gary had apparently ceased to exist for him.

  It was insulting. Gary lost his temper, a child whose candy had been snatched away. He strode forward and said, “Fuck you,” low and intense into Abe’s ear. “Stop that.”

  Abe opened his eyes. “What? You told me to do it!”

  Gary couldn’t tell if Abe was screwing with him or sincere. It bugged him. Abe had always been such an easy read. He made himself breathe in, exhale, before replying. “You shut me out. Don’t do that. Don’t ever—” Okay, he was coming on way too strong here. “Get your hands off your fucking dick.”