Striped

by Barnette, Abigail

  Mitchell looked up, into Jason’s sweet gray eyes. “You’re so smart.”

  “That’s why you’re with me.”

  Letting his gaze drift slowly down Jason’s chest, Mitchell shook his head. “It’s really only part of the reason.”

  “Jerk.” Jason peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside. “So, it’s getting late.”

  “That it is.” Mitchell pushed the stool back and stood, pulling Jason into his arms. Every separation, whether it was a week or a weekend, was way, way too long. Could he really bring another person into this? Their time together already seemed too limited. Would they be able to split it three ways?

  Jason reached for Mitchell’s belt and opened it with a rough tug. “You were real gentlemanly, waiting until after dinner to ravage me.”

  “I’m ravaging you?” Mitchell laughed as Jason backed him against the island. “What sex are you having?”

  “Not enough, that’s for damn sure.” Jason dropped to his knees, opening Mitchell’s zipper. He slipped his hand inside and cupped Mitchell’s balls through his cotton boxer-briefs.

  “Lonely?”

  “Horny.” Jason’s fingers slipped under Mitchell’s waistband and folded it down, then wrapped around Mitchell’s cock.

  He squeezed, and Mitchell hissed. He swallowed thickly. “So, what can I do to help you with this problem?”

  Jason stroked Mitchell’s shaft up and down. “You can let me suck your cock and fuck your brains out.”

  Mitchell’s knees shook at the words. There had been a time not long ago that Jason would never have taken a dominant role in their lovemaking. Now, he could bring Mitchell to the floor with a few naughty promises, because Mitchell knew exactly how well Jason would deliver on them.

  Jason rose up to slide his lips around the head of Mitchell’s cock. There was no gentle teasing, nothing coy about the way he set to work devouring his lover. Mitchell groaned at the almost too-intense sensation. There was something to be said for a little build up before the main event, but he wasn’t going to complain. If this was the overture, then it was about to be an amazing show.

  Jason moaned low in his throat, taking almost all of Mitchell’s length into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the shaft, circling his fingers around the base to glide up and down. Mitchell dove his hands into Jason’s glossy black hair and tugged rhythmically, in time to the sweet suction on his dick. “You’re driving me crazy. I want to touch you.”

  With a pop, Jason released Mitchell and rose to his feet. “Then let’s go, before I bend you over this counter and make a man out of you.”

  Chapter Three

  Jason could barely wait to get Mitchell upstairs to the bedroom. It had been way too long, and even a moment more seemed impossible to bear. He shed his shoes on the way up the stairs and had his jeans off the moment they got through the door. That morning, he’d put clean, crisp linens on the bed in anticipation of exactly this moment, the best part of every homecoming.

  Maybe not the best. The best was just having Mitchell home, in his arms again.

  “You look so fucking good. Did you look this good before I left?” Mitchell pulled his shirt off and kicked his jeans and boxer-briefs aside.

  Jason practically vaulted onto the bed. “I look this good all the time. I don’t know why you even bother to leave.”

  Mitchell slid onto the sheets beside him, bringing all his warm, naked skin into contact with Jason’s. Jason sighed in relief. The simplest things were sometimes the most important. His lips found Mitchell’s, and their tongues met in a long, slow slide. Mitchell tasted like beer and smelled like aftershave—manly and rugged. His fingers dug into Jason’s back, and he looped one leg over Jason’s hip. Jason ground his cock against Mitchell, the pressure teasing.

  Mitchell sucked a path down Jason’s neck, his teeth scraping over collarbones on a lazy path to one nipple. Jason drove his fingers into the other man’s blond hair and thrust his hips against Mitchell’s.

  “I’ll get there, don’t worry,” Mitchell said, smiling against Jason’s chest. His tongue swirled a path over each ridge of Jason’s stomach, and Jason couldn’t help but breathe harder. His cock strained, demanding attention, and Jason groaned.

  Not content to play the submissive, not this time, Jason pushed Mitchell off, to lie beside him head-to-foot. Before he could protest, Jason hooked one leg over Mitchell’s shoulders and laid his head beside Mitchell’s thighs. He opened his mouth wide and swallowed as much of Mitchell’s cock as he could.

  Mitchell hissed and bucked his hips, rocking more of his shaft past Jason’s lips. Jason tilted his head slightly, aligning his throat to take Mitchell down to the base, despite his large size.

  Sometimes, Jason didn’t mind taking the lead, but Mitchell had never truly submitted to him. Jason wasn’t sure Mitchell even could. Their relationship had evolved to the point that Jason no longer felt the desire to be submissive all the time, and it might be nice to actually dominate someone. Would he have that chance with Sean?

  With Mitchell’s lips wrapped around his cock, Jason wondered what it would feel like if Sean were there, flexing his thick cock into Jason’s ass at the same time. How would Mitchell react, seeing him taken that way? Would he be too jealous and call the whole thing off?

  Not that Sean would get to fuck either of them the first few times. Jason shivered, remembering how long he’d waited, bent over the back of Mitchell’s old leather sofa, ready to be fucked. Mitchell had made him wait for hours, teasing him the entire time. Forcing him to watch as Mitchell jerked off, while Jason was unable to touch himself.

  Jason moaned around Mitchell’s cock. His own surged as Mitchell bobbed his head, sucking hard. He wouldn’t be able to take anymore, and neither would Mitchell, judging from the way he thrust against Jason’s mouth. Mitchell halted, gasping for breath. “Are you thinking about what I’m thinking about?”

  “Sean?” Jason admitted with a chuckle as he sat up. “Yeah.”

  “All the things you want to do to him?” Mitchell shook his head. “Would it be a mistake, do you think?”

  “I think it would be a mistake to sit here and talk ourselves out of it. You know, instead of fucking.”

  Mitchell grinned and slapped his palm against the side of Jason’s head in an affectionate admonition before driving his fingers into Jason’s hair and pulling him down for a kiss. Jason didn’t have long to savor Mitchell’s mouth before he pushed Jason to the bed. “Get the lube.”

  Doing as he was told, Jason shivered with excitement low in his stomach. He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the bottle, passing it to Mitchell.

  “Hands and knees,” Mitchell ordered gruffly. Though Jason had been the one to instigate, as always, Mitchell’s dominant side took over, and willingly, Jason submitted. He braced himself for Mitchell’s touch, listening as the other man squirted the lubricant onto his hands and rubbed them together slightly to warm them.

  Not that it helped much. The slick wetness was still shockingly cool when Mitchell brought his fingers to the cleft of Jason’s ass, his other arm wrapping around to grip Jason’s cock. Jason jerked his hips forward, not quite sure whether he wanted to press back against Mitchell’s fingers probing his tight hole, or lean into Mitchell’s grasping hand.

  With hands that knew his lover’s body the way some guys knew their way around a particularly finicky old truck engine, Mitchell eased two fingers into Jason, curling and rubbing with gentle friction that drove Jason crazy. Almost more unbearable than the physical punishments Mitchell sometimes employed in their lovemaking, the gentle, knowing touches brought Jason to the brink. Only his own willpower held him back as Mitchell stretched him with one hand and worked his shaft with the other. Jason refused to come, not before Mitchell was inside him, pounding him into the mattress with all that pent up energy from Mitchell’s long absence. Jason didn’t want to come until they were shaking with exhaustion, breathing hard and sweating enough to soak the damn mattre
ss.

  “Are you ready for me?” Mitchell asked, squeezing Jason’s cock.

  He’d been ready for him since he’d picked Mitchell up at the air field. “Fuck me.”

  Mitchell’s hands disappeared from Jason’s body for a moment, and Jason knew that Mitchell was applying lube to his long, thick cock, preparing it to slide into Jason’s body. Mitchell knelt between Jason’s legs, nudging them apart with his knees, and Jason complied, flexing his forearms and dropping to his elbows on the mattress.

  Cold fingers slipped into the cleft of his ass again, depositing a cupped handful of lube there. Because of Mitchell’s size, both of them benefited from the extra help. When Mitchell leaned forward, his cock opened Jason easily, most of the head inside before Jason felt the slight burn and forced himself to relax. Slowly, rocking in and out a few centimeters before inching forward, Mitchell eased in, his fingers gripping Jason’s hips, denting the tight skin and hard muscle as he struggled to maintain his control. He pressed all the way in, almost too deep, then slowly withdrew. Jason took long, slow breaths, keeping himself receptive for the first few, gentle thrusts. This was the punishment before the reward, and he welcomed it.

  “Let me know when it’s okay,” Mitchell said as he reached beneath them to grip Jason’s cock. Slowly, he stroked Jason, his hand coated with lube.

  Blood surged to Jason’s cock, his pulse leaping under Mitchell’s firm grip. “It’s okay,” he moaned, needing to thrust his hips and speed Mitchell’s hand. “Fuck me.”

  Mitchell obliged, sliding in and out of Jason’s ass slowly, carefully picking up speed when Jason pushed back. They’d been together so long, they knew each others’ sexual cues the same way they knew their own wants and desires. Jason had never experienced anything so incredible as being perfectly in tune with Mitchell. He threw back his head and groaned, cold shivers traveling in waves up and down his back. They strained together, Mitchell stroking him to a climax so strong that Jason’s toes cramped as they dug into Mitchell’s calves. Seconds later, Mitchell followed, his thighs trembling against the backs of Jason’s as he slumped over him.

  Mitchell kissed the back of Jason’s neck, then again between his shoulder blades before pulling out and rolling onto his side of the bed. “I say…shower. Then, catch up on DVR.”

  Rubbing his face in the pillow, Jason laughed. “Glad to see that you’ve got the transition from home and away down.”

  Later, while Mitchell lay with his head on Jason’s lap as they watched television, Mitchell said casually, “What do you think of going out to Sean’s in the morning?”

  “I think…” Jason started carefully. “I think it’s either going to be horribly awkward, or it’s going to be unbearably awkward.

  “But we do need to talk to him.” Mitchell fell quiet for a few moments, and though his attention seemed focused on the television, Jason knew he was miles away. Then he said, with the same firm resolve he always displayed when he made up his mind and wouldn’t be swayed. “I do awkward well.”

  Jason laughed. “You do everything well.”

  Chapter Four

  Sean’s cabin was the smallest in the development, one of the efficiency fishing cabins that Mitchell had planned to rent to vacationing shifters who couldn’t move to Gwinn Close full time. Sean was a young guy, and young guys rarely had enough money for the kind of houses in the sanctuary, so Mitchell had repurposed the cabin. He’d worried a little about renting to someone Sean’s age, and to a tiger, but the grounds were meticulous, and he’d even planted a neat little vegetable garden on the sunny side of the yard.

  Probably alerted by the dust and crunch of tires on gravel, Sean came to the screen door. He stepped out, raising his forearm above his eyes to shield the glare of the late-morning sun. His shirtless torso rippled, muscles moving under tight, tanned skin without a blemish anywhere, but for the writhing black stripes that marked his back.

  “Good lord,” Mitchell said under his breath.

  “I know. I know.” Jason’s voice held a hopelessness that was almost comical. At least, Mitchell knew that they were both thinking exactly the same thing: though they were in pretty good shape, especially for guys in the forties, just looking at Sean’s taut, toned body made them feel incredibly old and unattractive.

  “Morning,” Sean called, dropping his arm and reaching for the t-shirt flung over the back of a patio chair.

  No, no, don’t do that on our account, Mitchell thought, then was immediately struck with guilt. He wasn’t here to flirt. He was here to take care of a problem. “Good morning. Sorry to intrude like this, but there’s something we need to talk about—the sooner, the better.”

  “Sounds serious.” Sean squinted against the sun and gave them a lopsided grin as he balled the shirt up and tossed it over his shoulder at the door.

  “It has to do with whether or not you fit in here in Gwinn Close and whether you should stay in this community.”

  Mitchell was grateful for Jason’s firm tone. There was no better way to put things, judging from the way Sean’s face fell.

  He ran his fingers through his dark hair, the sun picking out copper strands in the black. “Oh man. This is about that lady?”

  “Her name is Delilah,” Jason continued. “And her boyfriends aren’t real keen on you terrorizing her.”

  “You make it sound like it’s been habitual. It was just that one time, I swear,” Sean said, his tone becoming more serious as he seemed to realize just how deep in the shit he was.

  Mitchell folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe this once with Delilah, but there were complaints before that. I sent Jason to talk to you about it. Do you remember that?”

  “Oh, that?” Sean’s grin returned. “I thought it was a flimsy pretext to try and pick me up.”

  In the awkward silence—that Sean seemed to greatly enjoy—Jason cleared his throat. “I think I made it pretty clear that your behavior wasn’t going to be tolerated. And I’m kind of mad that you’re making me look like an asshole right now.”

  Immediately, Sean’s smile faded. “Look, man, I’m sorry. That was rude. You did tell me to keep it out of the community, go look for fun somewhere safe. It’s just…it’s like an addiction, you know? I feel like I have to get out there and chase and pounce…you might not think you get it, but I think you do.”

  Mitchell noticed that Sean looked to Jason for understanding. Mitchell searched his memory, to see if the subject of his animal form had ever come up in his conversations with Sean. Usually, it was something that came out right away, but Sean hadn’t been as interested in Mitchell’s background as most residents had been. It wasn’t out of self-centered interest that Sean hadn’t asked so many questions, but the opposite. The guy had been looking for someone to trust, and he’d wanted to believe in Gwinn Close, so much so that he hadn’t wanted to get too close to any ugly truths. Mitchell had been able to tell from the kid’s body language, and the words he’d used when they’d discussed the terms, the same way he could tell when a person had a whole lot of questions because they were testing to see if it was a scam.

  “I think we should probably go inside and talk, if that’s okay with you?” Mitchell suggested.

  Sean looked at Jason warily, then nodded. “Sure. Come on in.”

  Mitchell and Jason had bickered through several debates before they’d decided to let Sean live in the fishing cabin. Jason had given many sermons about the uncleanliness of young, single men—“and you know I’m right, because we used to be them!”—all, Mitchell was relieved to see, had been completely unnecessary. The tiny cabin was spotless, the very limited counter space wiped clean and shining, the pine floors gleaming. Instead of curtains, Sean had put up white linen shades, giving the unfinished wooden beams and ceiling a modern touch. In the front of the cabin, huge windows displayed an excellent view of the sun-kissed lake, and Sean invited them into the living area with a gesture.

  “Sorry, not a lot of seating. I don’t ‘entertain’.” He made quotes
with his fingers and sat on the end of the full-size bed, made up in homey looking quilts. Probably hand-sewn for him when he was a kid, because as Jason had reminded Mitchell over and over again, “Young guys don’t have any money.”

  Mitchell remained standing, while Jason sat cross-legged on the floor. “Did Jason tell you what kind of a shifter I was?”

  “If he did, I don’t remember,” Sean admitted.

  “Mitchell is a tiger,” Jason supplied for him. “Malaysian, same as you.”

  “And you,” Sean reminded him.

  Jason nodded “Mitchell is one of the most experienced shifters I’ve ever met. He’s so in tune with our primal energy, he understands us in a way that I have never found in any other person.”

  “You’re lucky to have him, then,” Sean said politely. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Mitchell considered his approach. “When Jason and I first got together, he had some problems with control, the same ones you’re having now. He would become irrationally, violently opposed to anything that could possibly be construed as a rule. If I asked him to not call me after ten, he’d call at ten-thirty. If I told him I thought we should spend more time together, he pulled away. But I stuck with him, because I had gone through the same thing. It’s difficult being a shifter, and a tiger shifter, especially.”

  “I think it’s because we’re supposed to be solitary animals, in our animal forms,” Jason broke in. “But as men, we don’t want to be solitary. We want to seek out the company of other people, but our shifted form only sees them as intruders on our solitude.”

  “I don’t know much about tigers,” Sean admitted sheepishly, “but I know what you mean.”

  “I learned at a very young age that I wanted to be around people. I want the approval of the ‘pack’ to use canine terminology. So, I had to discipline myself, and break the hold my tiger had over me.” Mitchell glanced at Jason, who returned his gaze supportively. “Together, we managed to subdue that particular tiger instinct in Jason, as well.”