by K. C. Burn
Before long, Drew bowed to the natural instincts of his body and thrust himself into Cliff’s mouth. Drew wasn’t big enough to make him choke—deep throating was something he’d never really gotten the hang of—but he was able to get the entirety of Drew’s cock in his mouth, burying his nose in that bright red thatch, already halfway to falling in love.
Cliff held off as long as he could, but he couldn’t neglect his own erection anymore. Taking himself in hand, he stroked in time to Drew’s shallow thrusts, twisting his hand at the tip. There was still so much of Drew he wanted to explore, but with a mouthful of Drew’s cock, he had no regrets about a quick and dirty blowjob.
“Cliff, I’m close.” Drew’s voice was breathless, a sound that went straight to Cliff’s cock, his balls pulling tight. They were going to hit the summit close together, and Cliff loved getting a mouthful of spunk while coming.
He used one hand to still Drew’s hips, working Drew’s cock with just tongue and suction while he frantically stroked his own cock.
Drew let out a few gasping moans before his cock pulsed in Cliff’s mouth. Cliff swallowed, his body stiffening as the sensation and taste pushed him over the edge, and he blew his wad between his knees, vision going gray and hazy from the force of the orgasm.
Almost in reflex, Cliff gently sucked at Drew’s still-hard dick until he could see clearly again.
Drew had slumped back against the wall, eyes half-closed, chest heaving in and out. Rosy patches colored his chest and neck, nearly making Cliff hard again. He’d never been with a guy who had such an obvious sex flush. There was going to be a lot of daytime fucking in their future, that was for damn sure. Cliff pulled back and licked his lips.
“That was seriously hot.” Drew smiled down at him, previous unease at being naked and exposed apparently forgotten. A good orgasm would do that to a man.
“Yeah, you are.” Cliff’s lips twitched as Drew looked flustered.
“No, I meant…”
Cliff stood, a bit of a challenge with his dick hanging from his uniform pants and a hand covered in cum, and looked Drew directly in the eye.
“I know what you meant. And I agree, a hundred and ten percent. But I also meant what I said. Why do you think I jumped you right here? Because you are seriously fucking hot.” Cliff deliberately repeated Drew’s words, thrilled he could make Drew look so happy.
“Now, do you think you can give me a hand? I still have to pick up uniforms from the cleaners. This is my last clean pair of pants here.”
Drew chuckled. He bent and grabbed his stretchy pants, then used them to wipe off Cliff’s cock and hand before bundling them into a ball and dropping them on a nearby table.
“You’re just lucky you didn’t get jizz on my robes,” Drew mock-scolded as he worked to tuck Cliff away in his pants, obviously realizing Cliff’s hands might not be clean enough.
“Oh yeah? Why? Would you have spanked me for being a bad boy?”
Blood rushed to Drew’s cheeks, and his hands trembled next to Cliff’s cock. Oh, Drew had walked right into that one. Cliff kissed Drew’s jaw.
“Maybe.” Drew’s reply was soft and hesitant, but Cliff heard the underlying desire, and he did a little trembling of his own. When Drew was better, Cliff was going to have a lot of fun with this man.
Moving back to Sandy Bottom Bay had some unexpected and very welcome perks.
Chapter Fourteen
Holy shit. Drew’s mind—and cock—were thoroughly blown. Northcliff Garcia, in full uniform, had stripped him down in his reading room and sucked him off. It was like a porn, but even naughtier because how the hell was he supposed to give readings from now on without blushing or throwing wood?
Not that he would have changed anything. Cliff in his uniform was almost as spectacular as Cliff completely naked. The orgasm had emptied Drew’s balls and left his muscles as limp as wet noodles. In his already weakened state, and following the adrenaline-fueled argument with Eddie Price—asshole—Drew was just about ready to collapse, and the bed seemed so far away.
Which meant he was more than willing to let Cliff help him to the bedroom.
“Are you feeling okay? Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped you like that.” Cliff sounded so contrite as he helped Drew into bed.
Walking around his house completely naked seemed fairly decadent, since his business was attached to his home, and he sometimes had a hard time remembering it was his house and not his grandma’s anymore.
“I’m feeling just fine.” Wobbly, yes, but in no pain, and more relaxed than he’d been since…well, the last Cliff-induced orgasm.
There must have been something in his tone, because Cliff gave him a sharp look before grinning indulgently.
“Looks like you might get some rest after all. I’m going to finish putting the groceries away, and then I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. There’s a lasagna in the freezer if you feel up to popping it in the oven.”
Surreptitiously, Drew watched Cliff check out his reflection quickly in the mirror. Aside from a slight sheen of sweat, he didn’t look like he’d just fulfilled one of Drew’s porn fantasies in the middle of his shift. The jangle of Cliff’s belt gave Drew a little thrill. The sound would forever remind him of Cliff unbuckling and pulling out his cock before giving Drew the blowjob of his life. One day he’d blow Cliff while he was in uniform, because that would fulfill yet another fantasy. He’d never imagined spanking before, but after Cliff had so teasingly mentioned it, Drew knew it would linger in his mind, whether or not Cliff had been serious. Drew wasn’t sure if he wanted Cliff to have meant it or not, nor did he know if he wanted to be the spanker or the spankee or both.
“That’s the best prescription ever—a blowjob every four to six hours.” His dick might fall off from overuse, but it would be so, so worth it.
Cliff laughed. “I really can’t make a habit of taking such long breaks. Scott will kill me.”
A tiny bit of his contentment bled away. “Who is Scott?”
Leaning over the bed, Cliff kissed his nose like he was a kid, and Drew had woken up enough to wonder if he should resent the action.
“Scott Hunter. An old friend from school and my new, very straight, partner.”
Oh. The tension left Drew’s limbs again. Not that he had any right to be jealous. Even if he’d dreamed of being Cliff’s boyfriend for a fucking long time, they hadn’t even discussed if this was anything more than a convenient way to get off. There were times when Cliff looked at him and touched his face… The kisses that were tender and sweet… Those times led Drew to believe Cliff cared for him. But that didn’t qualify as a relationship, and three days was hardly enough time to bring up the subject. Unless Drew wanted Cliff to run screaming the other way. He might not have had much experience with boyfriends, but getting too serious too soon was a recipe for disaster.
Smiling, Drew snuggled into his comforter as Cliff put the finishing touches on his appearance. Normally it was too hot most of the year for him to use more than a sheet, but with the new A/C unit, he was able to wrap himself in bedding, the comforter providing actual comfort in lieu of Cliff’s arms around him.
His eyelids drooped, and the last thing he heard was the sound of his kitchen door closing.
* * * *
Drew woke and stretched, the tepid sunlight of early evening streaming across his bed. He wiped at his eyes, his fingers coming away blackened, and he groaned. After Cliff had sucked his brains out through his dick and put him to bed like a good little boy, Drew had completely forgotten about washing the makeup off.
Listening carefully, he didn’t hear anything that sounded like another person moving around in the house. He hadn’t slept long enough to have missed Cliff’s next break, and he didn’t have the energy to get up. Without the endorphins making him sex-stupid, he remembered the readings he’d done earlier.
The readings themselves hadn’t been unsettling, but the macabre visions that had accompanied them had been. Did he need to go back to
the hospital? Were they true hallucinations, or were they just…nothing? Minor side-effects of getting his brain knocked about.
Even if he’d been thinking clearly when Cliff had shown up, he wasn’t sure how Cliff would have reacted. Drew reached over to his bedside table and snagged his phone. Kyle had texted him a few times, wondering how he was doing.
I’m okay. Sore still. Come over for a bit?
Dunno. What about Officer Hottie? I don’t want to be in the way if you’re gonna put the moves on him.
Drew rolled his eyes. Kyle had a one-track mind, and Drew wasn’t sure he was ready to admit that they’d already had sex. Twice. Not until he had a better grasp on what it all meant, if anything. Hell, even until he had a better sense of how Cliff would react if anyone knew they’d slept together.
Head injury, remember?
So? You can be the helpless waif. Let the big, strong cop help you into bed and shit.
Nope. He wasn’t touching that. Kyle was a master at reading between the lines, and if Drew said anything in his own defense, Kyle was going to figure it out all on his own.
Never mind that. Cliff’s at work. I need to talk to you.
Condom on Tab A, then into hole B. It’s been so long for you, you may have forgotten how sex works.
A vein ticked in Drew’s temple. He was almost grateful for the weird visions. At least he’d have solid ammunition to distract Kyle from nosy questions about his love life. Not that he could truly be angry with Kyle. They usually told each other everything, but this thing with Cliff felt different. More fragile, maybe. Or just more important. His lengthy crush didn’t help, made him less objective about what was happening, and he was just going to have to figure it out for himself.
Bring pizza. Ignoring Kyle’s digs was the only way to proceed, for now.
When?
Now. I’m starving. Which wasn’t a lie. As soon as he typed pizza, his stomach started grumbling. He appreciated that Cliff had bought frozen lasagna, but he didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with that.
Kyle signed off with a simple okay. He and Kyle had been friends long enough that he didn’t have to tell Kyle what to get on the pizza. Getting pizza meant Drew had at least twenty minutes to heave himself out of bed, throw on some clothes, and wash the makeup off. All while resolutely not thinking about how much revenue he might have missed out on by being closed all this time. The exhaustion wasn’t the only reason he was glad he wasn’t giving any more readings tonight. He hoped Kyle could give him some peace, though, because he couldn’t afford to be closed much longer, creepy hallucinations or not.
Twenty minutes, as it turned out, was enough time for Drew to sit in the kitchen and wait for Kyle, dressed, starving, and mostly feeling foolish. Perhaps he was sailing blithely along in ignorance, but he’d talked himself out of a panicked trip to the hospital. He’d convinced himself that the two creepy visions were nothing more than aberrations. If they happened again, well, then he’d reassess the issue. After all, it wasn’t like he’d seen something or someone that wasn’t there; it was more like a vision, or an image created by an overactive imagination. And while he certainly couldn’t take TV as medical gospel, there had been an episode of Bones where Booth had spoken to two people and a cartoon that were complete figments of his imagination. The images that had flashed in Drew’s mind weren’t anything like that. Not true hallucinations, at least as he understood them.
Which meant he could chalk them up to exhaustion. And if that didn’t completely assuage his fear, well, it was good enough for now.
Kyle let himself into the house and set the pizza on the table.
“Oh my God. I thought one of your brothers was bringing you an A/C unit. It’s fucking sweltering in here.”
Drew shrugged and glanced at the closed door to his bedroom. He had to admit, the cooler air in the bedroom didn’t make his head ache, not like the muggy heat in his kitchen, but more electricity and fewer readings meant he’d be hoarding whatever groceries Cliff purchased while he was here, because Drew might not have enough money for groceries.
“I figured I’d keep the cool air in the bedroom.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d already sweated into his wound, and it was stinging like crazy.
Kyle glared and waved his hands around. “What? Why are you so stubborn? Your brothers are paying your electricity this month, at the very least. And your online store is going great. You should start seeing profits before the end of the year. Let some fucking cool air circulate!”
“Okay, one, I can only worry about money I’ve got right now, and right now I’m fucking broke. Two, since when are Rob and Wyatt paying for my electricity?”
“Since they put you in the fucking hospital, that’s when.”
“But they’re paying the hospital bill, and they gave me the new air conditioner. Isn’t that enough?”
Kyle’s glare became a scowl as he marched to the bedroom door and flung it open. “No the fuck it is not. And I told them so.”
It wasn’t surprising that Kyle was sticking up for him, mother hen that he was, but it surprised Drew that he was taking such a hard stand against Drew’s brothers. Drew opened his mouth to reply, and another scene flashed in his mind, from the Angry Parakeet. Unlike the two readings he’d done, this one he was pretty sure was a memory.
“Wait. Didn’t you tell me you had the hots for my brothers? Both of them? How come you’re not letting them off the hook?”
The glimmer of tears in Kyle’s eyes shocked Drew. “I don’t know how you can ask me that. So what if I think your brothers are good-looking? You’ve been my best friend for over ten years! The brother I never had.”
Kyle’s breath hitched, and he wrapped his arms around himself. “And for a minute or two in that bar, I thought Rob had killed you.” His voice shook, and tears spilled.
Drew’s eyes began to burn in sympathy, but Kyle scrubbed his hands over his eyes and got himself under control before Drew began to actually cry as well.
His voice stronger, Kyle continued. “Even now, you look like a poster child for domestic violence. No way are they getting off the hook for this. Not for a long fucking time.”
Fortunately Drew had more than enough strength to stand up and wrap his best friend in a hug. Tears fell against his shirt, but he knew Kyle would be happier if Drew pretended there hadn’t been any crying.
“Everything okay?”
Drew looked up at the unexpected words to see Cliff standing in the doorway, an inscrutable expression on his face.
“Hey, Cliff. Everything’s fine.”
Kyle coughed. “Fine. Yes. Be back in a minute.” He slipped away to the bathroom without facing Cliff. Unlike Drew, Kyle could cry and still be gorgeous, but Drew knew it wasn’t vanity that had Kyle hiding his tears. He didn’t like to appear weak, ever, physically or emotionally.
“Come on in. Kyle was just having a little delayed reaction about my injury.”
Although Drew knew Kyle wouldn’t be happy he’d divulged that little tidbit, he wasn’t about to give Cliff the impression that there was anything sexual or romantic going on between him and Kyle. Not when all those emotions were tied up, 100 percent, in Northcliff Garcia.
Fingers tentatively touching Drew’s eyebrows and eyelids, Cliff scowled even darker than Kyle had. And Cliff looked a hell of a lot more intimidating than Kyle.
“Jeez, I think this looks even worse. I could fucking kill your brother for this.” There didn’t seem to be even a hint of humor in the statement. Drew didn’t need both his best friend and his hoped-for boyfriend to hate his brothers. He knew why they were both upset with Rob and Wyatt, and they had reason, but Drew loved his brothers and didn’t want to be running interference between everyone. Just the thought of it made him tense up.
“It’s better than it looks. I swear.” And it was. When Drew wasn’t having sex, he had a low-grade headache, but based on how badly it had all bruised, if it hurt as bad as it looked, Drew would be back at the hospital begg
ing for morphine.
“It didn’t look nearly this bad this afternoon. Did I…did I hurt you more?”
Drew took a deep breath and reached out a hand to Cliff’s chest, not to push him away but just to touch and soothe.
“I know you won’t want to hear this, but I have a bunch of cover-up to go with my eye makeup. Not the first time I’ve got in the way of one of my brothers’ brawls.”
Oh, that did not make Cliff feel any better. His eyes flashed with anger, and he pulled back from Drew, fists clenched. Probably this wasn’t the time to admit Drew had learned how to cover up the bruising when he was a kid, mostly because nobody wanted child services to come sniffing around. He got banged up because he stubbornly—maybe stupidly—tried to get in the middle of things, ever the peacemaker.
“That’s it. I’m going to arrest him right now.”
Panic seized Drew. “No. Don’t.”
“Don’t? Are you insane?” Cliff’s voice rose, and Drew darted a glance at the closed bathroom door. Last thing he needed was Kyle agreeing with Cliff.
“Listen to me. They never mean it.”
“You know what that sounds like.”
Drew stepped closer to Cliff and wrapped his long fingers around Cliff’s fists, hoping his touch would be enough to get Cliff to unclench. “I know what it sounds like. But here’s the thing—I’ve always hated when they fought. Hated it. I’d get in the middle, all the time. And usually get in the way of a fist not meant for me. My brothers have never hit me deliberately. Not once. I swear on everything that’s holy. They don’t beat me up. I just bruise easy and sometimes think I’m as big and strong as they are.”
The flare of anger eased, just a bit. Drew had to press on. His brothers weren’t as horrible as Cliff thought they were.
“Do you remember back in school, you used to stand up to bullies?”
“Yeah, and your brothers were the worst of them. Always seemed to go after much younger kids.” Cliff’s tone was hard, clipped.