Riptide (Sand Dollar Shoal Book 2)

by Pandora Pine

  “I would never let that happen, Griff,” Drake said softly. “I might not have any money tied up in Sand Dollar Shoal, but I have just as much to lose as the rest of you.”

  Griff blew out a harsh breath. “How would you not let that happen?” He sounded a bit calmer than he had a minute ago.

  “We’d have meetings and vote. Gregor and I can come up with a menu. Pres and I can come up with a theme and decoration ideas. You and I can discuss the entertainment. That way you all know what’s going on.” Drake took a deep breath. “I know you don’t know me, Griff, but I wasn’t about to plan a party with frozen chicken nuggets and a kazoo band.”

  “There are kazoo bands?” Noble’s face lit up like Christmas.

  “Jesus Christ, Noble.” Griff burst out laughing. “What does everyone think of Drake’s plan?”

  “We like it.” Landon looked at Noble who was nodding. “I’m available to help any way I can. Maybe I could write the press release for the party.”

  “Just so long as no one ends up dead…” Noble elbowed his lover.

  Gregor rolled his eyes. “I was wondering when someone was going to ask me about planning the menu. Count me in.”

  “I don’t suppose I need to ask how Presley is voting.” Griff waggled his eyebrows. “And as for me, I’m in too.”

  Presley bent over to slap a hand on Drake’s shoulder. “I knew you could do it,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to Drake’s temple.

  Gregor rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, not at the table! When you’re done playing kissy face get your ass in the kitchen. We’ve got clams to steam.”

  9

  Drake could honestly say that today had been the best day of his life. He'd found a friend in Gregor, who understood his struggle with dyslexia and had given him cooking lessons. Presley kissed him and bought him a computer, which he'd sworn to himself he'd pay for when he'd saved up enough money. Lastly, all of the guys had loved his ideas for the hotel.

  He'd guess the best part of the day though was Presley's repeated shows of faith in him and his abilities. The only encouragement he'd gotten in his last job were shouts of "faster" and "harder”.

  After they'd eaten dinner, Drake had shown everyone the pictures he'd taken of The Hiraeth Room, until Noble suggested they just climb the stairs and see the room for themselves. All the guys had raved about the accessories, the starfish lamps especially.

  Griff had made mention of needing quality photographs of the fully decorated rooms for the Sand Dollar Shoal website. Drake had nearly lost it in front of everyone when Griff suggested he be named the hotel's official photographer. After a quick, head-spinning vote, it was unanimous. Pres had promised to get him a real camera.

  Once everyone was done oohhing and ahhing over the room, Drake had gone back downstairs to help Gregor clean up the kitchen. Gregor had insisted Drake had done enough for one day, but he'd needed to stay. He’d needed a few minutes in the quiet kitchen to get his raging emotions back under control.

  Walking out of the hotel, he heard Charlie's happy bark. "Hello, beautiful." Drake got down on his knees to play with the puppy, who didn't look much like a puppy to him. She set her big paws on Drake’s knee and tried to lick his face.

  "Hey! Are you putting the moves on my girl?" Landon was all smiles as he walked out of the cottage toward Drake and Charlie, who took off running toward Landon.

  "If I am, then she's the first girl I've ever put a move on in my life." Drake burst out laughing.

  Landon plopped down on the soft grass with Charlie, giving her silky ears a quick rub. "I'm sorry we haven't had a lot of time to talk. When I'm writing, it sucks up all of my time. Noble calls me a word zombie."

  "Don't be sorry. Are you finished with the book?" Drake would never tell Landon, but he was in awe of Landon’s career. He couldn’t imagine being able to string two words together and there was Landon writing novels.

  "Not yet, but I'm sort of in a lull with the story. When that happens, getting out and rejoining the living helps to get my writing juices flowing again." Landon wore a hopeful grin.

  Drake nodded. He had no idea what to say to encourage Landon's juices.

  "I know what it's like to be the outsider in this band of brothers," Landon said out of the blue. "It was just Noble and me here at the hotel for three months. I’d come down here hoping the hotel and the ocean could break my writer’s block. I’d heard about Noble’s friends and even chatted with them on Skype, but that didn’t prepare me for the day when they all arrived."

  "There's a trial by fire." Drake found the other men intimidating on their own, never mind the protective streak the men must have for one of their own. At least he wasn’t dating Presley along with trying to prove he could be part of the hotel’s success. Not yet, anyway…

  "Don't I know it! After what happened with Noble losing his first husband and being fresh out of rehab, the guys were very protective of him and suspicious of me. Don't let that keep you from getting close to Presley."

  It was like Landon had read his mind. "Did they try to keep you and Noble apart?"

  Landon shook his head. "No, I wouldn't say that, but they made me run the gauntlet to prove to them that I was worthy of Noble. There were a few times I wanted to knock Griffin on his ass."

  Drake would pay money to see that. He knew how close Pres and Griff were, but what that man needed was to be shown Drake was no threat to Presley. "Why didn't you?"

  "I work with my hands!" Landon held up his hands and made a motion like he was typing.

  Drake burst out laughing.

  "Hey! Are you making a move on my man and my dog?" Noble shouted from the front door.

  Drake hauled himself to his feet, holding his hands up in the air. "Not guilty. Thanks for the advice, Landon. I'll catch you tomorrow."

  "Oh, leaving so soon?" Noble grinned. "Good, that means I can take my handsome man to bed." He pulled Landon to his feet and started dragging him back toward the cottage.

  "He's such a caveman!” Landon giggled, not seeming to put up any resistance to Noble.

  "Night, guys!" Drake held up a hand to wave, but didn't think the lovers even noticed. That's what he needed, a man who was so focused on him that the rest of the world disappeared.

  Smiling, he walked on toward Presley's cottage. He could see the living room light was on and knew he'd find Pres sitting on the couch waiting for him. It was nice having someone to come home to. It was something he’d been lacking since he’d moved into his own place back in California.

  Drake wasn't expecting the living room to be empty when he walked into the house. "Pres?"

  "In your room!" Pres shouted back.

  His cock jerked hard in his jeans at the idea of Presley being in his bedroom. What he would give to see him lying spread-eagle on his bed with his dick in his hand. He took a deep breath and headed toward his bedroom.

  Much to his disappointment, Pres wasn't naked and needy, but was down on his knees plugging in one of the starfish lamps. "What's this?"

  "I'm putting your lamps in your room." Pres stood back up and smiles at him. "They look great in here, don't you think?"

  "You look great in here." Drake grabbed his hand and yanked Presley against him. Noble wasn't the only one with caveman moves. He kissed him so hard that their teeth clacked together.

  Pres squeaked before digging his hands into Drake's hips.

  Drake took Presley's face in his hands, using his thumb to urge Pres to open up to him. When he did, Drake wasted no time in thrusting his tongue against Pres. There was nothing gentle about his movements, but he could feel Pres' rock-hard erection digging into his thigh. "Someone likes it rough, huh?"

  "Jesus, fuck, Drake." Pres panted.

  "You like that, don't you, Pres?" Drake whispered in his ear. "You like it a bit rough, huh?"

  Presley gasped for breath and nodded.

  Canting his hips forward, Drake ground his dick against Presley's stomach. "See what you
do to me?" Reaching down, Drake palmed the impressive bulge in Presley's jeans. "Looks like I do the same thing to you."

  Pres moaned out loud, gripping Drake's biceps hard enough to leave marks.

  Drake could not have cared less if Presley bruised him. For the first time in years, he felt alive. He tugged Presley closer still and unbuttoned his fly before slowly sliding the zipper down. As the teeth of the zipper parted, Drake licked out against the closed seam of Presley's lips. "Your lips are fucking delicious. I wonder if the rest of you is just as tasty?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, Drake sank to his knees, tugging Presley's jeans and boxers down with him.

  "God, Drake," Pres panted, running his hands through Drake's hair.

  "Tell me what you want, babe." Drake licked his lips, looking up at Pres expectantly. He knew what he wanted Pres to say.

  "Fucking taste me." Pres pulled Drake's face closer to his bobbing cock.

  "Your wish is my command." Drake dropped him a sexy wink, before bracing his hands on Presley's thighs. Drake stared up at Pres, who was breathing heavy, his blue eyes nearly black with need.

  Instead of going for the gold in one gulp, Drake licked out at Presley's wrinkled sack. The skin was hot. Drake moaned when the musky, salt-tinged flavor of Presley washed over his tongue. "Fucking good enough to eat." Drake was practically growling, sucking one of the soft orbs into his mouth, licking and sucking it until he was satisfied.

  Releasing the first ball, Drake sucked the other one into his mouth, giving it the same careful attention he'd given the first. Drake needed more. He wanted to taste every inch of Presley's freckled skin. "Turn around." Drake's voice was barely above a whisper. When Presley obeyed, he smacked each pale cheek. A loud crack echoed in the small room.

  "Fuck, yes!" Presley practically bellowed.

  "Oh yeah, someone likes it rough." Pulling Presley's cheeks apart, he speared Pres' hole with his tongue.

  Pres cried out. It sounded like a disjointed mix of consonants, but Drake knew what his lover meant. He wanted more. Pres wanted Drake to eat his ass. Reaching around his right hip, Drake wrapped his right hand around Presley's weeping dick, jacking him slowly.

  "Holy fuck!" Pres groaned. "Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!'

  Drake hummed against Presley's soaking wet skin. He had no intention of stopping, not until Pres was shooting his thick, creamy load down his throat. "Turn back around." Drake commanded.

  With shaking legs, Pres managed to obey.

  Drake loved the way Presley looked, like he was on the verge of losing his mind. That was exactly what Drake wanted him to do. Dragging his tongue across his lips, Drake stared at Presley's cock. It was thick with a purplish head and drooling pre-come. "Tell me what you want, gorgeous." Drake winked up at him.

  "Suck my cock, Drake. Fucking suck me until I'm coming down your throat.”

  Chuckling under his breath, Drake obeyed. He started by licking Presley's slit clean, moaning when Pres' nectar burst across his taste buds. He wanted to go slowly and savor every last inch of his lover, but he couldn't. He was too far gone.

  Drake slipped his lips over the head of Presley's cock, sucking lightly on the head. Grabbing Presley's ass in both hands, he pulled the other man closer until Pres' dick was pressed against the back of his throat. Looking up at his startled lover, Drake spanked him again, hoping he would get the message.

  "You're fucking killing me," Pres whimpered, pulling his hips back.

  It was ecstasy when Presley started fucking his face. Presley had started out going slow. Drake was sure that was so he wouldn't gag on his cock, but that's exactly what Drake wanted. A few well-placed slaps to the ass got Presley moving. Faster and faster he thrust his hips, sending his cock deep into Drake's throat.

  "I'm gonna come. Gonna fucking-" Presley shouted Drake's name, until his voice cracked.

  Drake stilled Presley's hips, wanting to gather his release in his mouth. He hummed in appreciation as his mouth was filled with pulse after pulse of sweet come. When Presley's dick stopped twitching in his mouth, he released his wrecked lover, opening his swollen lips to show Presley his prize. Waggling his eyebrows, Drake closed his lips and swallowed.

  "Oh my fucking God," Presley bent over, bracing his hands on his knees.

  Drake fell back on his ass and watched Pres trying to catch his breath when from outside he thought he heard clapping, a dog barking and cat-calls coming from outside. "What the hell?"

  Pres snorted, getting himself down to the bedroom floor. "It was stuffy in your room, so I opened the windows. You just gave me the blowjob of a lifetime with the windows open."

  "Encore!" Everyone yelled from outside.

  "Encore my ass!' Presley dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

  Those words were music to Drake's ears. He wanted nothing more than to flip Presley over and take his sweet ass. Baby steps…

  XX

  As much as Presley wanted there to be an encore, at least with him on the giving end, it wasn't to be. Once he and Drake stopped laughing over their friends' standing ovation, his lover had kissed him tenderly and headed off to the shower.

  It was still hard to believe what had happened. Presley almost thought it was a dream. He might have been able to convince himself it was just that until he heard the raucous cheering of his friends outside Drake's bedroom window.

  After he hauled himself off the floor, he'd gotten dressed and then finished plugging in Drake's other lamp. On a whim, he turned down the bed, wishing he had a wrapped chocolate to leave on his pillow like they’d be doing for the guests at Sand Dollar Shoal.

  Sprinting out of Drake's bedroom, he could hear his lover singing in the shower. Pres didn't recognize the song, but Drake's voice was deep and bluesy. Pulling his phone off the charging station, he left himself a note to look into expensive, local chocolates to leave in the guest rooms as part of their turn down service.

  He couldn't help thinking how much fun it would be to take Drake on a trip to Provincetown to sample the different chocolate shops. It would be amazing to walk down Commercial Street with Drake, hand in hand. He was thinking it might even be possible to partner with some of the local businesses with discounts they’d be able to offer to their hotel guests, while those businesses sent inquiring customers to Sand Dollar Shoal.

  Presley sighed. One spontaneous blowjob did not a relationship make. He supposed he and Drake would have to dissect what had just happened between them at some point.

  "What's wrong? You just sighed like the weight of the world was on your shoulders."

  Pres looked up from his phone to see Drake staring at him from the living room doorway. He was dressed only in a towel which was slung low over his hips. Pres couldn't help letting his eyes rove over Drake's beautiful body. "I..." His mouth went instantly dry.

  "Like what you see?" Drake grinned.

  Pres felt like he was frozen. Should he just nod at his lover or, for once in his life, go for it. Deciding that if Drake could go for it, so could he, Pres shook his head. "No, I don't like what I see."

  "What?" Drake's dark eyes popped wide open, his hands fisting on his hips. "What the hell do you mean you don't like what you see?"

  Pres raised an elegant strawberry-blond eyebrow. "What I see, Drake, is a white towel blocking the view. I'd give you three stars and most of that is because we’re friends."

  "A three?" Drake shouted, a tiny smile quirking his lips. He readjusted the towel so that his treasure trail was visible. "How about now?"

  Pres shrugged, trying to look unimpressed. "Eh, I've got a treasure trail too. I'd give you a four."

  Drake stalked toward Pres, looking like he was hungry enough to eat him whole. "Just what exactly do I have to do to score a ten?"

  "Well," Presley tilted his head to the side, pretending to think it over. "Losing the towel would be a good start."

  "A good start?" Drake tugged the towel from around his hips, but left it in front of him, shielding himself from Presley. "What the
hell would be a good finish?"

  Presley nibbled on his bottom lip. He knew exactly what would make a good finish, but the question was, was he brave enough to ask for it? Grabbing the towel, he ripped it out of Drake's hands, but didn't bother to look at Drake's arousal. Instead, he locked eyes with his lover. "Your cock, balls deep, down my throat."

  Drake looked impressed. "You think you can handle this?" Drake gave his swollen cock a few leisurely strokes.

  Presley finally broke eye contact to look at Drake's dick. Dropping the ruse, his eyes blew wide and his mouth dropped open. He wasn't an expert as measuring things, but he'd guess Drake's cock was ten inches long and as thick around as a tuna can. No, he absolutely could not handle that. An army of men couldn’t handle that. Christ, that boy would choke an alligator with that dick. "Sweet fucking Jesus, gorgeous and hung like a horse."