by BA Tortuga
THE PLACE was hopping, even as early as Galen got there. Damn. Of course, Miss Lynn told him that Halloween was sort of the last big ripsnorter before the holidays when things slowed down, so Galen figured that made sense.
There were ghosts and ghouls and vampires mixed among a dizzying array of fairies and angel wings and pretty boys in hot pants. It reminded him of Mardi Gras, just on a smaller scale. The band sounded fine, the whiskey a nice burn in his belly, and all in all it was good.
The best part, though? Was Shane. Shane looked like an otherworldly sex slave, with his painted on shirt and pants two fucking sizes too small and those little horns. Made Galen hard. Made him pant. And he sat there on his stool right up front and felt like he was so damned obvious. But damn.
He went up for another drink, watching until Shane caught a breather to wander closer and grin over the bar at him.
“Hey, love. You dry?” Shane was glowing under the light, the D rings on the collar sparkling. A bottle of JD was grabbed, poured over two ice cubes.
He nodded, grinned, tipping his hat. “That and I wanted a closer look.”
Shane’s eyes dragged over him, almost a touch. “Have I mentioned you’re fine, Mr. Frost?”
“You might have a time or two.” He liked hearing it, though. Liked even more the way people looked at him and Shane standing there. They made a striking contrast. “It’s getting on to midnight. You sure you can get away?”
“I worked my time, Len. I have plans with a certain cowboy.”
“Yeah.” That look made him hotter than a two-dollar pistol. “Watching you all night has been an exercise in will, lover.”
Shane pinked, stepped back from the bar, and grinned. “That sounds almost fun… exercising your will.”
“Oh, you think so?” There was a certain set of straps they hadn’t used yet from their vacation. Maybe he ought to break them out when they got home. They went with the collar.
“I do.” Those eyes twinkled, challenging, playing, hot as hell.
He wanted to drape Shane over the bar and fuck him. Damn. He couldn’t ever remember having caveman urges in his life before Shane came along. “Well, if that’s the treat you want, darlin’, we can do it.”
“Five minutes. Ten at the top.” Shane reached out, stroked the top of his hand, and bebopped off to pour another few beers and take his share of tips.
He hoped Shane found the hundred he’d slipped into those pants.
It was forever and no time at all before Shane came across the bar, eyes shining. “Hey, you! Our vacation fund? Rocking!”
“Yeah?” He grinned, sliding his hand over Shane’s ass. “Why’s that?”
Shane pressed close, laughing as he avoided a nearly naked guy in bat wings. “Because I’m fucking lucky, Mr. Frost.”
“Well now, that I can agree with. You have me.” He put an arm around Shane’s waist, pressing along one side of that fine body, fingers sliding over the latex.
“I do.” Shane was laughing, pressing right into him. “We staying or going to play?”
“If you want to stay awhile, we can.” He wanted to go, was in fact steering Shane toward the door, but he would stay if Shane really craved a party.
“I work here.” Shane moved easy, greeting and nodding and heading right for the door with him. Oh, he did love that man. Galen hauled Shane out of the crowd, right out into the dark, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him hard.
Shane got himself a double handful of ass, opening right up for him, the hint of tequila on his breath. They kissed until Galen had worked out a little of his pent-up lust. Just a little. He might make it to the truck.
They panted together, then Shane threw back his head, laughed. “Come on. Let’s exercise your will.”
Then the little shit took off like a shot, still laughing. Oh, he was gonna own that ass. Galen took off after, herding Shane toward his truck. They could come back for the Jeep. Shane looked fucking amazing, latex and vinyl moving and shifting and shining.
He could hear the collar jingling, and that made it damned hard to run. Shit, so much for his much-vaunted control. He got to the truck in time to press Shane against it, rubbing against that tight-laced ass.
Shane rubbed back, breathing hard, body fucking begging for it. “Oh. Oh, is this exercising, Len?”
“Yeah. It is.” He tugged the collar rings, then the nipple rings, hidden under the latex. “It is.”
Shane groaned, rocking back, ass rubbing away. “Good.”
He nipped a spot right under Shane’s ear. “Nope. Come on, in the truck.” He wanted home. Now.
“Tease.” The word didn’t hold any heat, all want and laughter and mischief.
“Nope. Just your average horny devil.” He couldn’t help it. He had to. They piled into the truck and he took another kiss, unable to keep his hands to himself.
Shane’s hand dropped to his cock, pushing, stroking through the denim. “Home. Home, Len, so we can play.”
“God, yes.” He took Shane’s hand and put it back on Shane’s side of the cab. Because otherwise? Shit. He got the truck started up and headed for home. And this time he didn’t give a shit about going the speed limit.
“Did you see the guy in the pink bunny costume? He must have been melting in there.” The chatter went on, Shane bouncing a little, hands reaching for him, then backing away. He was glad Shane talked. Gave him something to concentrate on besides his dick. And the road. That he always concentrated on. No way was he gonna bust Shane up in a wreck. He nodded and uh-huhed, squealing to a stop outside the back door of the house.
Shane slid out of the truck before he could catch him and headed for the house, just fucking vibrating. Galen went right after him and caught him inside the kitchen door. “Gonna make it so good, lover.”
Shane groaned, pushing into him and nodding, the little horns bobbing. Galen took his hat off, tossed it aside, and pushed Shane up against the wall, feeling like he needed to have that full body rub, feeling like it gave him control. Shane was hotter than the hinges of hell, pushing into him, the latex stretching, wrinkling.
“God, Shane. Make me crazy.” He herded them toward the bedroom, knowing if he was gonna rise to Shane’s challenge? He was gonna have to tie him up.
Shane wasn’t helping, grabbing and kissing, playing hard, all laughing temptation. He loved that, loved how hot Shane was for him, how hot Shane made him. But he wasn’t a stubborn man for nothing, and he was determined to play the hardass. He finally got Shane into the bedroom and sorta flung him at the bed, just to buy a few moments without those searching hands.
Shane bounced on the mattress, toeing off shoes and pulling the devil horns off. “How does this latex shit come off again, Len?”
“I get to peel you like a grape, darlin’.” He took off his own boots and shirt, leaving the chaps on over his jeans. Then he went searching for the toys.
Shane chuckled, the sound fading to a low moan as he bent in the closet. “I think you should put the chaps into your regular rotation, Len.”
“You think?” He turned, and the look on Shane’s face told him he really ought to consider it for sure. Damn. Galen wandered over to the bed, hips rolling, putting on a show. “Gimme your hands.”
Shane reached out for him, just like that, leaning so those lips could slide over his belly, soft and hot as hell.
He got Shane’s wrists cuffed, debating on tying them together. The possibilities with this set of cuffs and tethers were endless. He let Shane’s mouth work on him, moaning, petting Shane’s hair. Shane groaned, whispering little praises on his skin, tongue slipping out to lick the salt from his skin.
He let it go as long as he could, watching Shane who was oddly not Shane work him before pulling him up by the collar. “No more of that. At least not yet.”
“Pushy old man.” Those eyes were all Shane, blue and bright and pure wicked mischief.
“Old? You watch it, young’un.” Lord, he loved Shane’s eyes. He? Was turning
into a sap. Just for that, he took one of the tethers and brought Shane’s hands down behind Shane’s back, tying them together.
“I can’t touch if you do that.” True, but having those hands back there pushed that chest out, nipples protected by a thin coat of latex.
“I know.” He winked and reached for the covered nipples, testing Shane’s sensitivity through the latex covering.
Shane moaned, shoulders shifting, legs sliding a bit. “Damn.”
“Oh, now, that’s pretty.” Galen studied the straps, deciding on Shane’s ankles next. He pulled Shane all the way up to kneel, attaching cuffs to Shane’s legs and then tying the wrists down to that, leaving enough slack so as not to strain. That pushed Shane’s belly and chest out, made his hips arch. Fuck yes.
Flushed and breathing hard, Shane watched him close, licking those open lips, looking sexy as fuck all in black—collar to ankles.
He leaned down to lick at Shane’s lips too, going back for another pass at Shane’s nipples. Like he could resist those. He could feel the rings under the latex. Then he worked down to undo the laces on those tight vinyl pants.
That pretty, heavy cock pushed right out, spreading the laces, reaching for his hands. Holy fuck that was gorgeous. Galen took it in his hand, feeling the heat of it, the weight. The angle of Shane’s arms and legs made it jut out, made Shane look otherworldly.
“Oh. Len….” The position kept Shane off-balance, kept the jerks toward his hand short, sharp.
“Yeah, lover. Yeah.” Fucking amazing. He grinned. Too bad it was a wee bit late for the cock ring. That was supposed to go on before Shane was fully hard. Definitely too late for that.
“That smile is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Look like you could eat me alive.”
“I could.” He stroked Shane’s cock, bent to kiss that mouth again. His thumb rubbed over the slit, gathering up moisture to bring up and rub against Shane’s lips.
Shane groaned, low and raspy, lips wrapping around his thumb and sucking it right on in.
The next taste he took for himself, fingers dipping back down, then sliding into his mouth. Galen sucked Shane off his own fingers, eyes holding Shane’s, making all sorts of promises. Swallowing hard, Shane whimpered, body rippling, offering it all up.
“Yeah. Just like that.” Those vinyl pants were a bit of a challenge, but Galen finally got them unlaced, got them pulled down around Shane’s thighs. Yeah. He could get to both that sweet cock and that tight ass now. Perfect. The latex left a rough, ragged line along Shane’s waist, the gold skin pale against the black.
It was fucking hot for some reason. The whole thing was. Shane in the collar. The latex. The way Shane was tied. All of it. Galen moved back and opened his own jeans, suddenly needing the space.
“Uhn….” Shane’s hands twisted, thighs parting. “Want.”
“Soon, lover. Soon.” Galen moved up, rubbed his cock against Shane’s, the heat making him gasp and growl. Teeth scraped on his shoulder, Shane leaning into him, stretching.
God, that was good. Galen didn’t want to hurt Shane, but he wanted more skin, wanted those hot little nipples, so he started in on the latex, right around those pretty, pierced bits. The plastic stretched and then tore, leaving sweet little bare patches of skin. He could smell Shane, smell that sharp need.
That was what he wanted. Galen reached right for that skin, petting, pinching, humping hard against Shane’s prick. He wanted everything, and he was like a starving man at a feast, not knowing where to start.
“Need your mouth, love. Please. Kiss me.”
He watched Shane struggle for another half a minute, watched those muscles pull and stretch, trying to get to him. Then Galen leaned down and kissed Shane hard, tongue pushing in, teeth pressing against Shane’s lips. Shane cried out, tilting and off-balance, lips opening right up.
Galen slipped one arm between Shane’s back and tied arms, holding him upright as he took Shane’s mouth fiercely. God, he was addicted to that taste, to those little cries. They humped together, Shane begging for him, arched and moaning, cock leaking pure heat. Galen reached down, took Shane’s cock in his hand, and pumped, fingers working the shaft, sliding down to tease Shane’s balls. All the while they kissed, moved, nibbled.
“Close.” Shane shifted, body trying to find a rhythm.
“Yeah, lover. Come on.” Galen wanted to see that. Wanted to feel it. Shane groaned, the moan low and sweet, almost a sigh, heat pulsing out over his hand. He watched until Shane stopped shaking, listened to every noise before bringing his hand to his mouth and licking it clean. The taste was sharp, bitter. Shane.
“Oh.” Shane leaned against him, blinking slow, breath slowing. “Fucking fine, Len.”
His own breathing was going double time, his heart pounding, the need driving him. “Yeah, darlin’. That was so, so fine.” He shifted, moved around to untie Shane’s hands and feet. He wanted those fancy vinyl pants off, wanted that fine ass right now.
Shane reached right for him, working buckles and zippers. He figured he’d imposed his will enough for one night, and he let Shane help him. He even sprawled back when Shane shoved him, landing on his back, newly freed cock jutting up. “Gonna ride me, Shane?”
Shane wriggled completely out of the pants, leaning to lick his shaft, getting it good and wet. “You know it.”
“Good.” That would be fucking amazing. He reached out for Shane’s skin, feeling the edge of it right under the latex, sliding up over the odd covering to pull at a little gold ring that was starting to shine for him again.
“Uh-huh.” Shane nodded, crawled up his thighs, and straddled his cock.
Oh, hell, yes. Galen grabbed those lean hips, fingers digging in and pulling Shane down to position him, reaching behind to spread Shane wide.
“Yeah.” That tight little hole rubbed across the tip of his cock, hot, teasing, tempting.
“Fuck, love. No teasing.” He pulled, the head of his cock pushing in. So tight. So damned ready for him.
Shane’s hands landed on his chest, bearing down. “No more teasing. Fuck me.”
Galen moaned, the sound torn out of him, and pulled Shane all the way down, hips pushing right up. His cock slid all the way in, the muscles in his belly and chest straining as he arched up and pulled back, fucking Shane as strong and hard as he could.
His lover didn’t hold back, bucking and riding, head thrown back, collar dark on the taut throat. It was surreal, that chest and belly he loved so much painted dark, the collar he’d bought for Shane screaming “mine,” and Shane giving it up to him like there was no tomorrow. Galen strained to hold it, to keep it going. To prolong it as much as he could.
“Fuck.” Shane leaned forward, eyes meeting his, so fucking blue. “Love this. Love you.”
Galen bucked, hands coming right up without any thought to pull Shane down for a kiss as he shot, his cock jerking inside Shane’s body. Damn. Just damn.
Shane settled, tongue sliding and kissing, slow, easy.
He petted Shane’s hair, murmuring low. “Mmm. Love you, Shane.”
“Yeah. Been the best fucking year, Len. You make it for me.”
“God, yeah. Happy Halloween, lover.” He couldn’t ask for more than that ringing endorsement, could he? He kissed Shane hard, hand sliding down Shane’s back. Oh, hell. They couldn’t go to sleep with the latex on. “Time to strip you like a willow branch, darlin’.”
“That sounds perverse as fuck.” Shane giggled.
“Like the rest hasn’t been?” He laughed too, smacking Shane’s ass. They’d get Shane stripped off, cleaned up, and maybe have another go. Then they’d go to bed. Who said he didn’t know how to do tricks and treats up right?
Chapter Eleven
THE DOORBELL woke him up sometime about nine thirty. Galen grunted, blinking at the clock—and at Shane, who was blissfully unaware. Thank goodness he’d hired Danny Able to open the bait shop for him these days, because when Shane was off work, Galen’d started sleeping on his sched
ule.
He rolled out of bed and padded to the front door, wondering who in hell was ringing, because anyone who knew him knew to pound on the kitchen door, or had a key to let themselves in, so it had to be a stranger. He was right.
When he opened the door, it was three strangers standing there, all of them familiar faces, but all of them well forgotten until just now. They were old football buddies—well, at least Robbie and Sam were. The other smiling face hit him like a blow to the gut, leaving him gasping.
“Hey there, Lenny,” Robbie said. “Gonna let us in? We brought doughnuts.”
Robbie was grinning, holding up a box of glazed and jelly doughnuts like it was the most natural thing for three ex-pro ball players to be in the Keys in November, showing up at the house of a man who hadn’t talked to them in two years.
Shane pushed a pair of cutoffs into his hand, peering through the window a little. “Lenny?”
Oh, fuck. He was standing there naked. Galen turned his back and put on the shorts. He wanted to tell them no, no way was he letting Jack Lehman in his house, not ever. But Robbie and Sam didn’t know, and God willing, they never would.
“Yeah, come on in.” He looked at Shane. “Some old football guys.”
“Oh.” Shane tilted his head, gave him a look. “I could make myself scarce, if you want.”
“No!” It came out a little too forceful, but he couldn’t help it. “Could you make coffee? We’ll be there in a minute, and I’ll introduce you and all.”
“Sure. Pot of joe coming up.” Shane grinned, tugged on a T-shirt, and headed for the kitchen.
Galen turned back to the guys as they filed in, trying hard not to glare. They all just grinned at him like the idiots they were.
“Got yourself a new thing, huh, Lenny?” Sam was a big, beefy blond, who was going to seed if the beer gut was any indication. Still, Galen had always liked him best out of the three for his sunny disposition, and he summoned a smile.
“Yeah. Y’all behave, okay? He’s a good one.”
“Oh, sure. Sure.” That was Robbie, looking about as innocent as a fox in the henhouse.