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Horny, Hard and Hare-y

Page 7

by Watts, Mia


  “Gibbs.”

  “Who do you want fucking your ass tonight?” Gibbs stroked long and slow.

  Ben gasped. “You.”

  “And who am I?”

  “You’re Gibbs.”

  “Don’t forget it,” Gibbs said softly.

  Ben’s eyes glazed over as Gibbs continued to stroke.

  “Tonight, you’re mine.” Gibbs nuzzled Ben’s neck, nipping it with his teeth, then soothing over the spot with his tongue and lips. “Just mine,” he murmured.

  Ben sighed. Gibbs had the sense that Ben was giving himself over to him. It was a heady experience. Gibbs sank to his knees, making quick work of Ben’s pants.

  “Get them back up there,” Gibbs ordered when Ben lowered his arms.

  Immediately, Ben put them above his head. He looked down at Gibbs nervously. Gibbs met the look straight on, then yanked Ben’s pants down around his ankles. He pushed Ben’s shirt up, needing to feel his bare skin, the rise and fall of his chest as his body demanded oxygen.

  Ben’s cock boldly jutted from the trimmed nest of hair at the base. His balls hung heavily, tempting Gibbs to cup and stroke. First, Gibbs just looked at him, taking in the full scope of Ben’s male beauty. And what could be more beautiful than a hard dick, touched with pre-cum—for Gibbs?

  “That’s it, you can’t pretend I’m Duncan when the lights are all on.”

  “I’m not pretending anything,” Ben countered. “It’s not Duncan I’m looking at.”

  His honest admission made Gibbs smile. They seemed to be on the same page. Excellent. Gibbs held eye contact as he opened his mouth and slowly drew in Ben’s cock. Ben hissed. His hips tilted for Gibbs, jutting his shaft forward.

  Gibbs took him deep, savoring every inch, feeling it rub over his lips, past his hard palate, and bump the soft skin behind it. His tongue cradled the veined underside, and on each withdrawal, Gibbs flicked the tip, delved teasingly into the small opening.

  He knew he had Ben’s full attention, when Ben dropped his arms again and fisted Gibbs’ hair. Ben helped, pulling Gibbs off and on. As his hips began to work, Gibbs hummed his approval.

  Ben’s answering groan tore slowly from him, full of agonized pleasure. It was time, Gibbs decided. He grabbed Ben’s ass and sucked down, swallowing around Ben’s length. Ben flexed, tensed and spilled down Gibbs’ throat with a shout.

  After cleaning him off, Gibbs took the condom and lube packet out of his wallet. He stood, grabbed Ben’s spent cock, and tugged him to the porch railing. “Bend over,” he commanded.

  Ben blinked at him then did as he was told. He looked over his shoulder while Gibbs freed his cock and dressed himself with the condom. “

  “I should go down on you, now,” Ben argued.

  Gibbs shook his head, his fingers already plying Ben’s hole. “You’re going to remember me after tonight.”

  “How could I forget you?”

  “It’s happened before,” Gibbs replied matter-of-factly.

  “It was dark. I thought you were Duncan because he’d kissed me earlier.”

  “But I wasn’t. I was just the guy you jacked off to another man’s name.”

  “It would have been you, if I’d known.”

  Gibbs pressed the tip of his engorged dick at Ben’s anus. “Do you want me now?”

  “Yes,” Ben hissed.

  He entered Ben, giving him just the head, and pulled it out. “Do you want Duncan?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Good answer,” Gibbs murmured.

  Gibbs pushed in until the rimmed head sank in. He closed his eyes, shivering at the furnace heat of Ben’s body. His anus spasmed, clenching on Gibbs’ cock.

  Ben panted. “More. Faster.”

  Gibbs deliberately held himself in check. “There’s plenty more.”

  “Please,” he gasped.

  Gibbs retreated before he’d completely filled Ben, then pushed forward again, sinking his cock into Ben’s ass, balls deep. Ben gave a cry somewhere between pain and pleasure. Gibbs paused, feeling like Ben had said it for him, too.

  Gibbs tensed, holding orgasm at bay, but it was so difficult with Ben’s body hugging his length, and the man whispering encouragement to take him and take him hard. He fucking wanted to, but he didn’t want the moment to end too quickly.

  Once he’d regained himself, Gibbs began thrusting. He rocked his hips with each inward stroke, butting hard inside Ben’s body for every ounce of pleasure. The railing creaked as Gibbs took his ass, praying that the act would somehow make an impression on Ben’s heart.

  Gibbs wanted that. Even as he had sex with Duncan and Charlie, Ben never left his mind. He hoped that opening the circle up to Ben wouldn’t mean Ben would fall for one of the others.

  Gibbs threw his head back, sinking into his longing, like he sank into Ben’s body. With one last thrust he imagined Ben smiling at him, rising up on his toes for a kiss, and Gibbs lost his control. Orgasm stole his breath and roughened the exultant yell, as he spilled inside the man he loved.

  Love me too.

  Gibbs slipped from his body, removing the condom, and tucking himself away.

  Ben turned, and wrapped his arms around Gibbs’ waist. He lifted his face and pressed it into Gibbs’ neck.

  Gibbs grinned foolishly. “Your butt’s naked.”

  “Yeah, so? Kind of ridiculous to be worried about my butt when you just banged it on my front porch.”

  Gibbs hugged him back, taking comfort in Ben’s nearness.

  “That had better not be the last time, Gibbs.”

  “Yeah?” his grin widened hopefully.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about when we all hook up?” Gibbs asked, putting voice to the concerns he had.

  Ben shrugged. “Then we fuck, enjoy it, and go off on our own afterward.”

  “Like a couple?” Gibbs pressed.

  Ben looked up at him, studying him for a moment. “Yeah. I like sex as much as the next guy, but I only date one at a time.”

  Gibbs was struck for words. Instead of trying to force them out, he kissed Ben, grazing over his lips tenderly, hoping they said what he couldn’t seem to. Ben rose up, deepening the embrace. He ended the kiss after a minute. “I’d ask you to stay tonight, but I’m on call.”

  Gibbs nodded. “Okay, this time. Tomorrow, you’re staying over.”

  Ben smiled warmly. “Try and keep me away.”

  Chapter Nine

  “What the hell was I thinking?”

  Ben groaned for the hundredth time that morning. He dropped his forehead to his folded arms on the desk. With another sound of self-disgust, he rolled his head to the side, looking at the office clock. It was still ten.

  Ben went to his filing cabinet. Maybe he should just go into the field today instead of doing paperwork that the main office required.

  “It doesn’t go any faster if you keep looking at it,” a voice said.

  Ben whirled around, eyes wide. He hadn’t heard anyone enter. But even as his search took in the whole room, he still didn’t see the source of the voice. The hare gnawed a carrot in his cage, perched on the edge of Ben’s massive desk. It looked mildly interested in Ben’s sudden disruption.

  “Who said that?” Ben blurted.

  “I did.”

  Ben had been looking at the hare. He could have sworn the little guy’s mouth had moved. It’s just the carrot he’s chewing that makes it look that way.

  Ben made a circuit of the small front room of the office. “Where are you?”

  “On the desk where you left me. I hate pellets. Can I have more carrots? Or better yet, a roast beef sandwich?”

  Ben’s eyes bugged. He edged toward his desk and the cage. A rush of adrenaline made him laugh suddenly as he realized what had probably happened. “Nice, Duncan. Nice trick,” he yelled into the office. “What did you do? Bug the cage? Jack the radio frequency on the collar?”

  “That’s impossible. It only sends a transmitting beep,” the voice scoffed.r />
  “This doesn’t sound like Duncan,” Ben mused.

  He bent low to the cage, examining it closely. The hare awkwardly turned, following Ben with his eyes.

  “That’s because it’s Charlie.”

  “The only one of you that didn’t show up and try to seduce me last night,” Ben finished.

  “I may be an animal in the sack, but I’m never an animal in the sack. That’s just sick.”

  Ben’s gaze finally swung up to look at the hare’s, noting the twitching nose, and the way one side of its fuzzy face curled upward in a—smile? He swatted his hand out for the arm of his rolling chair, caught it, and dragged it over. Ben sat down heavily. The chair creaked complaint.

  “Charlie?” he asked, feeling stupid and possibly high.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you.” The hare’s mouth moved in unison with the words, no carrot in sight. He took a tiny hop toward the wall of the cage, pushing his ever-moving pink nose through one of the wire squares. Then the hare winked.

  “Holy shit!” Ben pushed hard with his feet. The chair rushed backward, rolling across the floor until he crashed into the filing cabinet and came to a jarring stop.

  “Relax. I wouldn’t have told you like this, but you kind of pulled an unintentional trump card. As in, you wrapped a radio collar around my neck, stuck me in a small cage, and are feeding me cardboard flavored pellets with the occasional carrot stick. You, sir, are a sucky host.”

  Ben blinked. He glanced at his coffeemaker wondering if its contents had been spiked. Slowly, so as not to—well, he didn’t know what he was trying to prevent, seeing as how the animal had startled him—he reached for the phone.

  “Are you sure you want to do that? If you tell anyone, I won’t talk to you again. They’ll think you’re crazy,” the hare warned.

  “I was going to call Gibbs or Duncan.”

  “And tell them their hare is talking?” Charlie snuffled. “Are you sure you don’t want the rest of the story?”

  “What story?” Ben asked, still questioning his sanity. “There’s an animal talking to me. I’m not even convinced I’m awake. Maybe I fell asleep on my desk and I’m just imagining this part.”

  “You need to let me out of here,” Charlie told him.

  “Now I know I’m dreaming. You can’t all be telling me the same line.”

  “I need to have this collar off. I promise I’ll let you follow me around. Hell, I’ll even detail a list of my habits and favorite hopping grounds. You’ll look like a fucking documentary genius.”

  Ben couldn’t open his eyes any wider. He tried, somehow thinking that if he could, maybe the information he was seeing and hearing would absorb, be understood better, or he’d just wake up. Nothing.

  “I’ve been working too hard. I’m going crazy, that’s it.”

  Charlie sighed, setting his whiskers into stiff shivers. “I’ll talk through this with you. If I’m who I say I am, Charlie in hare form, what would that mean for me if I wanted to turn back into my human form and I have your collar around my neck?”

  Ben imagined that, playing along. “You’d choke.”

  “Bingo.”

  “So, Duncan and Gibbs know about this thing you do?” Ben asked. “Jesus, that’s why he was talking to you last night about your situation.”

  Maybe he wasn’t the only crazy one. There was that hunter who’d been lost in the woods so long that he’d dehydrated into hysteria. When they’d found him, he believed he’d been abducted by aliens and returned with the ability to communicate with wolves.

  God, have I been working in this office alone so long I’ve become like that guy?

  “Okay, get comfortable.”

  “Wait. I’m gonna need to sit down for this, aren’t I?” Ben asked the hare.

  “You are sitting down.”

  “I should stand up and sit down again or something. Just so I’m in the right frame of mind.” Ben knew it didn’t make sense, but nothing about this situation did. He was grasping at straws here. Anything to make a talking hare seem realistic. Especially a talking hare who seemed to be preparing him for bad news.

  Ben gripped the armrests of his roller chair. He didn’t scoot closer to the desk, preferring to keep himself as far back from the cage as possible.

  “Okay, what else?” Ben asked.

  Charlie stretched up the side of the cage, presenting his white underbelly. He turned his head to the side, peering at Ben with one solemn brown eye, rimmed with long black lashes. His nose twitched at a slow, steady rate.

  Charlie looked at him. His little front claws poked through the wire squares of the cage. “They shift too.”

  Then Charlie smiled.

  That’s when Ben knew it was all for real. The unnatural paring of toothy grin and wink, something he’d seen human Charlie do, and the voice gelled in his mind.

  It made no sense.

  It was impossible.

  Science fiction, alive and well in Fletcher, Michigan.

  Impossible, yet grinning at him with the same wicked, prankster, quirky characteristic of the man.

  “Oh, God,” Ben half-muttered, half-groaned.

  “Ah, I see it’s starting to settle in. Good. I’ll give you a few more minutes and then I’m going to ask you again to take the collar off. If I’m collared over the full moon, I’ll never be a real boy again, Geppetto.”

  Now Ben scooted closer, peering into the cage, leaning to look Charlie in the eye, to see what his mind still had trouble comprehending despite the conclusions piling up to say that the impossible had actually happened. Charlie was a hare.

  At least, right now.

  Ben’s mind raced with the information. Unable to classify it without inspiring a migraine, he then settled on the other bomb Charlie had dropped. Duncan and Gibbs were shifters too. He couldn’t see either of the men as hares though.

  Suddenly he remembered the owl swooping down when Ben had collected Charlie in the woods. The owl had visited Ben many times before without ever diving for his head. Especially in broad daylight. In fact, the owl that visited him at night sometimes, seemed mellow and just as curious about him as Ben was about it.

  The night before flashed to mind. The golden-eyed gaze of Gibbs sitting with him on the swinging bench and the soft downy hair. Gibbs confessing that he’d been watching Ben.

  “Gibbs is a Great Horned Owl,” he said, not really intending the words to be spoken aloud.

  “Hey! You’re getting the hang of this,” Charlie cheered. “Okay, go for broke. What is Duncan?”

  There’d been only one other animal present, poking his head out of the underbrush with the owl—Gibbs—and Charlie. Ben’s mind balked at it though. Still, the often ancient look of understanding the man wore, and the way his motions felt calculatedly deliberate argued against any other animal.

  Ben’s brows rose up in the middle, more out of defeat than acceptance. “A tortoise.”

  “Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!”

  “I kissed an owl and a tortoise?” Ben asked numbly.

  “You did what?”

  Ben refocused on Charlie’s surprised eye, blinking at him rapidly.

  “I kissed them.”

  “In animal form? That’s sick,” Charlie said, his pink nose wrinkling distastefully.

  “No, not as animals.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Charlie asked. One of his ears flopped down. “I don’t get it.”

  “Well, they’re only like half humans.” Why was he reasoning with a hare again?

  “No,” Charlie drew out patiently. “They are all human with a nifty little party trick.”

  Ben snorted. “Some party trick.”

  “So, can you let me out now?”

  Ben blinked. He’d nearly forgotten the request. He sat forward abruptly, causing his office chair to squeak piteously, as he fumbled for the cage latch. He paused, narrowing his eyes on Charlie. “Don’t bite me.”

  “Only if you ask me to,” Charlie promised, h
olding his paw aloft in the manner of making a solemn vow.

  Ben unlatched the door.

  Charlie hopped out. He tucked his head to the side, exposing the black plastic neckband. “Please?”

  Ben opened his desk drawer and removed a bolt cutter. “So what were you doing out there together? Do you always hang out as a pack of mismatched animals?”

  Charlie eyed him balefully. “There’s this thing we do every year, but yeah, we often hang out. Spare the judgments.”

  “What thing?” Ben held the bolt cutter out of reach. “I want to know everything.”

  Charlie sighed. “A race.”

  “A what?” Ben asked.

  “A race. Gibbs was reff-ing.”

  Ben thought about it for a minute then laughed.

  “Shut up,” Charlie sniffed.

  Ben’s eyes watered and he wiped the corners with the back of his hand as the image of Charlie the hare, racing Duncan the tortoise, while Gibbs the owl oversaw the whole ordeal. “Is that like a shifter law that you have to reenact children’s fairy tales?”

  “Seriously. Shut up.”

  “I don’t suppose you know any girls with scarlet capes, or shifting wolves?” Ben continued. Jesus, he just couldn’t stop himself. He’d chalk it up to the ridiculousness of the experience. Hysteria might even qualify.

  “I’m not getting any younger,” Charlie said, tapping a long back foot.

  “Gettin’ a little long in the tooth, are ya?”

  “He’s here all day, folks.” Charlie dropped his nose into his front paws and rocked it from side to side.

  Ben was still chortling as he carefully placed the bolt cutters and snapped the band.

  “Awesome,” Charlie praised. “Now, do you have any clothes, or should I just walk around your office naked until my boys get here?”

  Laughter left Ben suddenly, at the mental image of Charlie’s wiry, lean build suddenly materializing—naked. What the fuck was wrong with him? Ben would never have thought of himself as an easy lay, but there was something about the three men which just got his libido humming.

  He’d expected to have it bad for Duncan, who wouldn’t? The man was strong, and tall, and dripping with quiet charisma, yet Gibbs occupied his thoughts most. Now here was Charlie, and the very idea of him naked in Ben’s office had him at half-mast.

 

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