Cherry Pie

by Samantha Kane

  Conn’s head was spinning. Everyone was talking about associated businesses that would grow out of the data center, new people who’d end up moving here. In a town as small as Mercury, one good business that could employ a sizable chunk of the population made all the difference. And John had given it to them.

  “I’m glad you heeded my advice, John,” Miss Priss said as she was leaving. “I can see that you are more animated and happier than when we first met. Talent and energy going to waste will drag a man down.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” John agreed obligingly. Conn smiled at him behind Miss Priss’s back.

  “I think I might open a store of some kind,” Cheryl mused. “Maybe an ice-cream shop.”

  “Ice cream, ice cream!” screamed her two boys.

  Toby sighed as he herded them all down the steps to the car. “See what you’ve started?” he said irritably to John. “I blame you for this.”

  “I admit it,” John said unrepentantly.

  Conn laughed. He couldn’t seem to stop tonight. Everything was perfect. This moment, this night, this house, this man. He slung his arm around John’s shoulders at the top of the stairs. “Get out of here,” he told Toby.

  Toby covered his eyes and turned away. “We’re going! We’re going. Just wait until we turn the corner, please,” he begged. Cheryl hollered at him from the car, and he laughed. “We’ll be here tomorrow to help fix that porch,” he called back. “I was afraid it was going to collapse under all the weight tonight. I’ll call some guys. We’ll be here.”

  Kristine stopped and kissed John good-bye on the cheek. Conn was surprised when she did the same to him. “I’ll see you both tomorrow. I’m bushed.”

  “You can stay here if you’d like,” Conn offered.

  Kristine shook her head. “No, thanks. That’s a little too much togetherness. I like my space. The motel is fine. It’s actually pretty nice.”

  They waved as she drove away.

  “Are we alone?” Conn whispered.

  John slid around in his arms. “Yep,” he said, wrapping his arms around Conn’s waist.

  “Thank God,” Conn said fervently. He shoved a hand down the back of John’s shorts, making John jump in surprise. He cupped a firm ass cheek and squeezed before sliding his hand down John’s crease, over his underwear, coming to a stop when his fingertips teased John’s balls. John’s breathing went from zero to sixty in five seconds.

  “I like your friends,” John said breathlessly, spreading his legs, letting Conn snug his hand in farther.

  “They’re your friends too,” Conn told him. He nuzzled John’s neck and rubbed the sensitive space between John’s balls and his hole. John moaned. “I have a powerful need to be in here tonight. Let me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. But not out here.” John wiggled out from his arms and went to the front door, holding it open for Conn with his back.

  Conn snagged him with an arm around his waist as he went through. He slammed the door shut with his foot and pressed John against it. He kissed him, and John didn’t hesitate. He kissed him back so thoroughly Conn’s knees turned to jelly. He pushed one knee between John’s legs to rest it against the door, and John rubbed his crotch on Conn’s thigh. He could feel how hard John was. Right then and there, he stripped him. Just stepped back and pulled John’s shirt off over his head and nearly tore the catch off his shorts yanking them down his legs.

  When he had John naked, he knelt on the floor, slid his arms between John’s legs to cup his gorgeous ass, and swallowed his cock, right to the back of his throat.

  “Conn!” John cried out. He ran his fingers through Conn’s hair and held him in place, shuddering against his mouth. Using his hands to push John forward, Conn encouraged him to fuck his mouth. He liked that. Liked John using him like that. And the right or wrong of it didn’t matter here between them. It was all right, all good, all John and Conn and sex and feelings. He swallowed around John’s cock over and over, wanting him to come down his throat, wanting to taste him and own him like that.

  John gave him what he wanted. He fucked Conn’s mouth, setting a hard pace that had John panting and Conn desperate for him to come within minutes.

  “I’m going to come, baby,” John rasped. “I want it here, in your mouth.”

  Conn barely nodded, not wanting to mess up John’s sweet rhythm. John gripped his hair and slid deep in Conn’s throat. Conn would have gagged if he weren’t so experienced. He didn’t let the thought disgust him like it used to. What was past was past. The present was John, and he was gonna enjoy it. With a groan, John came, his cum a salty wash in Conn’s mouth. He swallowed repeatedly, making John curse softly and shudder. When John was done, he fell back against the door.

  Conn pulled off John’s softening dick slowly, licking the dripping end with little laps of his tongue.

  “Jesus, Conn,” he said. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  As he stood up, Conn ran his nose all the way up John’s stomach, loving the feel of his tight abs and hairy chest and the sexy, earthy smell of him. When he was standing, he pressed his lips against the side of John’s head while John held on to his hips weakly. “Nope. Tryin’ to fuck you,” he murmured.

  “Doing a good job,” John chuckled. “I’m ready to let you violate me any way you like right now.”

  Conn gently bit John’s chin. “Not supposed to be a violation.” He tried to remember what John had said to him the first time they were together. “You’re supposed to be fucking over the moon at having me inside you.”

  John laughed outright. “I’m fucking over the moon right now from being inside you.” He touched a finger to Conn’s lower lip to indicate his mouth.

  “Good.” Conn made sure to make his voice really low. He knew that turned John on. He watched with satisfaction as John shivered and his eyes closed. “Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around John’s shoulders. “I want a bed, some lube, and a condom.” John started to say something, but Conn was a step ahead of him. “And you.”

  John laughed as he put his arm around Conn’s waist and walked beside him, bumping his hip. “Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars?” He froze and stared at Conn, horrified. “Oh my God, I didn’t it mean that the way it sounded.”

  It took Conn a second to figure out what John was talking about. When he did, he laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall in the hallway.

  “It’s not funny, Conn,” John protested.

  “It’s fucking hilarious,” Conn told him. He grabbed John and planted a hard kiss on his mouth. “You don’t have to watch what you say around me, Johnny. I get it. I get that you don’t think that way about me. I trust you.”

  John wrapped his hand around the back of Conn’s head and pulled him back for another kiss. Conn could feel John’s emotions in his kiss. He didn’t have to say anything. Conn knew. When they broke apart the laughter was replaced as their desire reignited. “Bed. Lube. Condom. You.”

  “You betcha,” John mumbled, tugging Conn toward his room.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Connor,” John moaned as Connor slid inside him.

  “You’re so fucking tight and hot and perfect, Johnny,” Connor whispered.

  “Mmm,” was all John could manage in response. They were in Connor’s favorite face-to-face position. Connor was nibbling on his neck as he wiggled up closer between John’s spread legs, his fat cock stretching John until he hit John’s prostate with a zing that nearly made the top of John’s head blow off.

  Connor chuckled, and the low sound seemed to shimmy up his cock and into John, right up his spine until it forced a whimper out of his throat. Normally he would have been embarrassed, but Connor soothed him.

  “That’s all right, Johnny,” he murmured. “So sweet, you giving it up for me. Squeeze me tighter, baby.” John did as he asked, and Connor groaned. “Oh, yeah. See? You do it to me too.”

  Connor began a slow, barely there thrust and retreat, just massaging John’s prosta
te with the tip of his cock. It was amazing. “On purpose?” John managed to croak out as he shivered and shook in Connor’s arms.

  “Yep.” His pace picked up, his thrusts a little harder, tapping that space rather than massaging.

  “Hit it,” John cried out. “Please. Hard.”

  “You really want it?” Connor asked, biting John’s chin, raking his tongue along the stubble there.

  “God, yes,” John begged.

  “If it will make you happy.” John barely had time to smile before Connor started slamming in and out. His slow and steady early pace had stretched John just right, so all he felt was mind-blowing pleasure as Connor hit that spot over and over.

  “Gonna make you come again,” Connor growled, grabbing John’s legs behind his knees and pressing them wide and back. He hooked John’s legs over his arms as he braced his fists on the bed and fucked him like a man possessed. John was in heaven. And Connor was right. He was going to make John come again.

  “Now!” John cried out as his climax rushed through him. His ass tightened around Connor’s big dick deliciously. John loved the feeling.

  Connor didn’t let up, wringing cries out of John with each thrust until he stiffened and groaned long and low. John could feel the pulse of his orgasm through the cock buried deep in his ass. He pressed as close to Connor as he could get, wanting all of it, wanting to feel every second of Connor coming inside him.

  When it was over, John clung to him, and Connor held him close. It was clear Connor was as reluctant to let go as John was. Eventually Connor had no choice but to get up and clean himself and John off. John couldn’t have moved if fire alarms were going off in every room. When Connor slid back into bed next to him, it was the most natural thing in the world to roll over into his arms and go to sleep.

  John woke up and groggily looked at the clock. Almost three thirty in the morning. He reached out and realized Connor was gone.

  “Connor?” There was no response.

  Suddenly John heard a faint sound. Music? It sounded like it was coming from the porch. He crawled out of bed and grabbed a shirt off the floor, pulling it on. It was Connor’s and came down past John’s ass. He chuckled softly, loving the soft feel of the faded cotton and Connor’s smell surrounding him.

  He wandered toward the front door. A quick peek out the front window revealed Connor leaning against the porch rail with the guitar. He was tuning it, messing around with the tuning keys. John opened the door, and he looked up.

  “What are you doing?” John asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  John leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “You could have woken me up.”

  “I did.” He could see Connor’s grin in the moonlight.

  John laughed. “Touché.” He looked up at the star-filled sky. He hadn’t ever seen a sky like that when he was in LA. “What’s keeping you awake?”

  Connor strummed a chord on the guitar and adjusted a tuning key. “Just thinking about everything that happened today. We started out mad and ended up making love. That’s a good day.”

  John’s vocal chords wouldn’t work. Making love? Was that what they’d done? When had it changed from just sex to making love?

  “I was thinking about this new data center and what it means to Mercury and what it means to me.”

  John decided not to address the making-love thing right now. He was still wrapping his head around it. “Do you want a job there? I can get you one.”

  Connor shook his head. “No, sir. No, thank you. Stuck inside in a tiny little square space all day? Been there, done that. I’ll keep on working in the sun, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Right.” Connor may have told him he didn’t get upset, but John still felt like an ass when he said something that brought up Connor’s past.

  “We stayin’?”

  Connor’s question caught him off guard. “Out here? Not much longer. I’m tired. And I guarantee Toby will show up with the sun just because he knows we were probably fucking all night.”

  Connor laughed. “Yes, sir, he will. And we can blister his ears with stories of it.” He gave John a sly glance. “But we haven’t been fucking all night.” He waited a beat. “Yet.”

  John got a little breathless with anticipation, but he didn’t show it. “Hmm,” was all he said.

  “I meant here. In Mercury.”

  John’s heart raced at the question. Connor was asking him to think of the future, and he’d stopped doing that over a year ago. He’d been living day-to-day. The thought of planning ahead scared the shit out of him. “I don’t know.” Then he realized how Connor had phrased the question. He’d said “we.” “Don’t you want to stay here?”

  Connor shrugged. “Not if you don’t. Whither you go, I go.” He strummed a chord, and even John could tell it sounded good. Connor played a small part of a vaguely familiar tune. It gave John a chance to regulate his breathing so he didn’t hyperventilate. He wanted it. He wanted that whither thou goest crap. It was what Steve could never offer and what Connor gave without question.

  “You should put your handprints in the new step tomorrow,” John finally offered.

  Connor stopped strumming for a moment; then he nodded. “You too.” John could tell he knew what that meant. What John was trying to say, even though he couldn’t say it yet. Connor resumed playing the haunting melody.

  “What is that song?” John asked.

  “‘Gentle on My Mind,’ an old one by Glen Campbell. You remember it?” John nodded. “My mama loved this song. I was just thinking about the part that says it’s not some paper or words we speak that keep me coming back to you. I guess he’s saying, you know, you gentle my mind, my soul, and that’s why I’m here. Not some building or rocks or whatever. And he doesn’t care if people curse him for the way he feels.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying this right, am I?”

  So instead he played it for John. When he was done, John walked up to him, and Connor set his guitar down. John framed his face in his hands. “You’re saying it just right.” He kissed him, as soft and gentle as the words of the song. “Is that one of your corny songs?” he teased.

  “Your pants off yet?” Connor asked. He cupped John’s bare ass cheek beneath the shirt. “Yep. Works every time.”

  John laughed. “I’d like to keep the beach house, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure,” Connor said. “We can go look at it in a couple of days.” He sounded so blasé about it that John knew that issue was dead. It had never been about the house. It had been about John and the clumsy way he’d bought it and presented it to Connor.

  “I just need a place to make you cherry pie,” Connor murmured, fondling John’s ass. “Don’t care where.”

  John laughed again and let go of Connor. “You are my cherry pie,” he said.

  “I’m going to make you eat those words,” Connor promised roughly.

  John just walked over and opened the front door and stood there with his back to Connor, holding it open with his arm. He heard Connor pick up the guitar, and John walked away, secure in the knowledge that Connor was right behind him.

  Loose Id Titles by Samantha Kane

  Cherry Pie

  Samantha Kane

  Samantha Kane lives in North Carolina with her husband of fourteen years and three children, two boys and one girl. She spent seven years as a high school history teacher before becoming a full time writer and mom. Ms. Kane has a Master's degree in American History.

  She loves to hear from readers, so please email her today.

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