“You don’t have to be more, babe. I love you just the way—”
Kirk sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. Shane froze, their gazes locked on one another. He wanted to speak, to say something, but he couldn’t break from the stare that held him.
I’ll remember this moment forever.
His body was slammed against the mattress by Kirk’s weight. His lover clutched the sides of Shane’s head, ravishing his mouth over and over, strange whimpering noises falling from Kirk’s lips. The friction from the fabric of Kirk’s clothes against his exposed skin alternately irritated and ignited him.
Kirk released Shane’s swollen lips, both of them breathless. They were almost nose to nose, the irises of Kirk’s eyes at their widest.
“Yes, yes, Shane, sweetheart. I love you too.” He captured Shane’s mouth again briefly before continuing, his voice husky. “I love you so much.”
Shane nodded as best he could with Kirk’s massive frame pressing him down. “I was going to tell you tonight, but not like that. I wanted…” He frowned. He wasn’t sure how he’d meant to do it, but blurting it out randomly hadn’t ever been under consideration.
“It was perfect. You’re perfect.” Kirk sat up, still straddling Shane’s thighs. “Gonna fuck you now.”
It sunk in. Kirk had said it. He’d said he loved him.
Holy shit. This is real.
Kirk climbed off Shane, but stayed close. He yanked the hem of his T-shirt up then pulled it over his head. It landed on the floor and Kirk trailed his fingers across Shane’s flat stomach, his lightly furred chest. They never looked away from one another. As he finished undressing, Kirk continued to maintain their contact, either with his eyes or his touch. It was as if he didn’t want to lose their connection for even a moment.
At last, Kirk was nude, his thick cock completely filled, hard and leaking. Shane bit his lower lip. He wanted that in his mouth, wanted to taste the bitter saltiness of Kirk’s pre-cum on his tongue. It must’ve been the greedy stare that Kirk had noticed, because he approached the side of the bed, holding the base of his stiff flesh toward Shane like an offering. He leaned up on his elbows and parted his lips, knowing that Kirk would feed his cock to him.
Shane accepted the large spongy head of Kirk’s dick, sucked it in then sank down on Kirk’s shaft until his nose hit the bristly curls at the root. He opened his throat more, Kirk’s generous length cutting off his air, Kirk’s hand holding the back of his head. Shane swallowed around the intrusion then Kirk let go. He pulled off quickly, gasping for air, blinking back tears. He fucking loved it.
Shane fell against the pillows after Kirk pushed him down roughly. The tenderness was gone—it had been replaced by raw lust. It was how they typically were with each other during sex, Shane giving in to Kirk’s physical demands. Already his balls tightened and he wondered how quickly he could get it up again if he shot too soon. He hadn’t touched himself for quite a few days in anticipation of their reunion, so he thought there would be a good chance he could go again right away.
Kirk crawled on him, straddling him again, but not before lifting Shane’s cock and balls so that they would be flush against Kirk’s as he sat on him. Grasping their erections together, Kirk used the moisture from them both to slicken the way as he masturbated them both vigorously. Shane hissed in a sharp breath, transfixed as he watched the ecstatic grimaces on Kirk’s face as he pumped his hips, sliding their cocks against each other as he jacked them both.
“Goddamn, Shane.” He moaned. “So fucking good, so fucking…” Kirk’s rhythm became jerky, his thrusts more forceful. “Come with me, sweetheart, come…”
Kirk roared as seed burst from his tip, splashing Shane’s chest. It set him off and Shane yelled out as his own heat mingled with Kirk’s. He covered Kirk’s sticky hand with his own, encouraging more cum out of them both, the liquid trickling over their fingers and down their softening lengths.
They didn’t move for almost a minute. Shane had his eyes closed as he basked in the afterglow of their shared orgasms. Completely sated, they laced their fingers together, relaxing their hands on Shane’s belly. Shane lifted his lids and was startled to see Kirk’s intense gaze piercing into him.
It was then that he recognized what this new look was. It was love. Kirk loved him. If he had before, Shane didn’t know, but he could see it now. Kirk had either hidden it from him or Shane hadn’t been ready to see it. But it was there and Shane felt as if his life was just beginning.
* * * *
Kirk marveled at how horny he still was. As Shane licked the grease off Kirk’s fingers from the cold chicken they’d bought on their way back from the pier, his dick throbbed as if he hadn’t come only an hour before. It wasn’t that unusual for them to go twice in one night on Shane’s first few days back, but his need was painfully strong—more so than usual.
A thrill in his gut coursed through him when he recalled how Shane had blurted out that he loved him. He’d been so surprised, it had taken a moment to register that he’d actually heard correctly. His initial instinct had been to fuck him through the mattress, but he’d already been on the verge and hadn’t wanted to shoot his seed into Shane the instant he breached him. He wanted to fuck him long and hard. So he’d taken the edge off for both of them.
“You done?”
After licking Kirk clean, Shane had wiped his fingers on a paper towel. He was in the process of gathering the packaging from the chicken and the deli salads they’d purchased and seemed ready to move on to the next thing, He knew his lover well enough that he knew Shane still waited for a good ass fucking.
Shane grinned at him. “Done with food, but not with anything else.”
Kirk smiled back. “Me neither.”
The rain suddenly turned to hail as it assailed the glass of the windows. The racket was deafening. As stronger and stronger gusts of wind beat it against the panes, the lights flickered. They exchanged glances.
“Had you heard the weather report earlier?”
Kirk nodded. “While I was waiting for you. What did it say on the cutter?”
“Didn’t seem all that urgent, thirty to forty sustained, gusts fifty-five to sixty. Maybe as much as seventy at the beach headlands.”
“That’s pretty much what I heard too.”
Another roar sounded as the hail kept up its relentless assault against the side of the building, the squall building in force. Shane’s lips were set in a grim line. Kirk knew exactly what he was thinking. They weren’t even located on a headland and the bursts they’d heard crashing into the apartment were more like eighty miles per hour, possibly more. The sustained winds were closer to the sixty miles per hour estimate. Shane had the experience of the open sea and Kirk had the memories of many volatile storms over the years.
Shane’s cell phone went off at the same time the power did, right as the awful force of another gust slammed into the windows. As Shane reached for his phone, he indicated behind them.
“We should move away from the glass.”
Kirk nodded, following Shane’s lead to the sofa against the back wall of the apartment. Shane hadn’t checked in with his sister since docking, so it was possible it was her calling from California. The minute Shane answered his phone, Kirk knew that wasn’t the case.
“How soon will the ship be ready?”
Shane dug through his forgotten duffle on the ground, pulling out pieces of his operational duty uniform and clean underwear. The blue fatigues he’d worn off the cutter had been discarded in a heap on the bathroom floor.
“Uh huh. I see.” Shane held his phone between his ear and shoulder while yanking up his briefs. “So you have him in the process of calling everyone back on board?” Shane stepped into the pants. “Who has the list of the next tour recruits? We should gather up as many of them as we can too. What? Yeah, I can hold on.”
Kirk stood up and went to his lover, holding the phone for him so he could finish getting dressed.
“Thanks, babe,” he
whispered.
Once Shane was buttoned up, he sat on the couch and reached for his socks and work boots. Kirk grabbed his wrist then handed the phone back. Shane regarded him with a puzzled look as he took the cell.
“I’ve got this, sweetheart.”
Kirk rolled one sock open and indicated to Shane’s foot. Shane’s expression softened and he presented himself to Kirk. Once Kirk had laced up both boots and checked that they weren’t too tight, he glanced up at Shane.
“Okay?”
“Perfect, babe.”
Kirk rose up on his knees, leaning in for a kiss. Shane parted his lips, lowering his lids. His eyes flew open and he sat up straight.
“Could you repeat that please? Are you sure?” Shane rubbed at his forehead, distress clear on his features. “Shit. Yeah. I’m out the door.”
Kirk had sat back on his heels, caressing the outside of Shane’s thighs, hoping to soothe him as best as he could.
“What’s wrong?”
The way Shane looked at him made his gut clench. He appeared as if he might get sick.
“I have to leave immediately. I’m going to personally make sure that everything that is possible is being done.”
Kirk struggled to understand what Shane was saying. Of course he would do his job, he was a dedicated man.
“I don’t…” Kirk shook his head.
“A distress call was picked up from a fishing vessel. The person identified themselves as Joel Jansen.”
Kirk’s heart slammed against his ribs. What was his son doing out at sea in this storm?
Chapter Three
He landed on his butt, his strength instantly drained from him. Did Cindy know? When he’d talked to her the day before, she’d said that Joel and his friends were spending the weekend together. How had Joel ended up on his boat? He’d never taken it out alone, never even asked to. Was he thinking that now that he was eighteen he could do whatever he wanted, that there wouldn’t be any consequences? The only consequence Kirk gave a damn about right then was Joel’s life.
Wait. Maybe it’s not my boat. One of his friends’? Or maybe it’s not even my son.
It was a thought borne of desperation but he couldn’t help it. The idea that Joel could be caught out in such a terrifying gale storm was incomprehensible. Shane had kneeled beside him, grasping his shoulders and shaking him a little.
“Babe. Listen to me. I’m going now. We’re going to get Joel and everything’s going to be all right.”
“Shit. This can’t be happening.”
Now he knew why Shane had looked sick—he wasn’t too far from it himself. Shane was standing, pulling on him.
“Come on, babe. Let’s go.”
His brain kicked back in gear and he scrambled to his feet.
Yes. Have to go. Quick.
He grabbed his keys and coat then raced to the door, Shane at his heels. Another thought left an icy trail of fear up his spine. Shane was the most qualified rescue swimmer of the crew. His lover would be out there too, fighting the brutal elements to save his son. Shane cared about his son, even though their relationship had always been strained—Joel never allowing Shane to get too close. Kirk knew because of that and Shane’s newly declared love, Shane would do everything in his power to protect Kirk’s boy.
I can’t fathom losing either one of them.
He willed himself not to descend into that line of thinking. It was not only impossible to ponder losing either of the two most valuable people to him on the planet, but if he were to lose both—he wouldn’t survive it.
* * * *
Shane was suited up in his harness, his gear together, flippers and mask ready. He was set to go, anxious. Heavy waves crashed repeatedly over the bow of the ship, the entire cutter like a seesaw gone mad. Some of the newer recruits retched downstairs. When the seas became so violent that the extreme motion of the vessel never ceased, no amount of anti-nausea meds could save a newbie. It took time and experience.
The helos had been sent back to the Coast Guard Air Station at the Astoria Regional Airport. The winds were too strong. The anemometer had broken, no longer able to measure the air speed. It was too dangerous for the men flying the rescue ’copters. That meant that Shane would have to go in. He was the only crew member qualified enough for the type of rescue they would be attempting.
The inflatable was also ready. It would be tethered to the cutter, but in some ways, Shane wasn’t sure it was even viable under the circumstances with how massive the waves were. Lionel tapped him on the shoulder, moving close to speak next to his ear. Even though they were inside the bridge, the constant roar of the storm was still overpowering.
“We’re close to where we were last able to get a signal from them.”
Since he’d arrive on board, Shane had discovered that while Joel had been the one to call for help, he had two of his friends with him. He’d also been able to confirm that it was indeed Kirk’s boat they were on.
If it hasn’t already been smashed to bits.
Almost an hour had passed since their last communication with the boys. It was impossible to know why they were no longer reachable. Shane swallowed back bile rising in his throat at the thought that Joel might have already been lost to the sea. Lionel clasped his shoulder as if he knew what was passing through his mind.
Shane had promised Kirk that he would bring his boy back safe, had assured him that he wouldn’t take any chances with his own life either. It was all so much bullshit. Even if he didn’t know Joel personally, he’d been trained to put the victim first. It was the reason he’d sought the training he had when he’d first enlisted—to have the opportunity to save people, to make a real, quantifiable difference. But there were no guarantees.
“I’m gonna see if they’ve picked up anything else on sonar.” Lionel squeezed his shoulder before letting go. “Why don’t you go check and see if Kirk’s texted you while you’re waiting?”
Shane watched as Lionel walked away. He couldn’t go—he’d be too tempted to try and contact him. And what could he say? That they’d lost contact with Joel an hour before? Kirk had always been incredibly respectful of him while he was on-duty, but this was a different scenario. He would be frantic with worry, would want to know what was happening every step of the way, despite what he’d said before they’d parted at the dock with another public kiss.
‘I won’t bother you. But text me as soon as you know anything.’
Joel was Kirk’s son. If the positions had been reversed, Shane probably would have stolen aboard. His heart also ached at Kirk’s other words, the ones whispered to him right before Kirk let him go.
‘Bring back my son. But make sure you bring back the man I love too.’
He forced his thoughts back to the present. He tracked the lights that were trained on the rolling waters, searching in the darkness for any sign of either the small craft or anyone being tossed about in the sea. According to Kirk, there were four orange life vests aboard his boat, so if the boys had at least been smart enough to put them on, they might still have a chance if the vessel had already been compromised. Shane winced at his use of military speak.
Compromised.
What he meant was if the boat had sunk, been destroyed. It was too fucking hard when it was someone you knew. There was a yell from outside and one of the recruits charged in.
“We’ve spotted something!”
“Got it.”
Shane grabbed his flippers and other gear, and scurried outside. Several lights shone in one concentrated area and Shane knew the engineers were doing their best to keep control of the cutter, but there wouldn’t be much time. Everything would have to be done quickly. He squinted against the driving wind and rain, then pulled the mask down over his eyes. That was the other thing—it was so fucking cold. If the boys had been in the water for any length of time, they might have already succumbed to hypothermia.
He spotted them. The boat had a huge gouge taken out of it and was listing precariously to one side as
it was tossed about on the waves. The three young men were huddled together on the portion that was mostly sticking out of the water. He recognized Joel immediately. He was too far away and it was too dark for Shane to make out his expression, but he imagined it would be one of abject terror.
Fuck.
He did a last minute check to insure that his harness was safely clasped then put his flippers on. Right before he secured his helmet and gloves then put the snorkel bit in his mouth, he radioed his team, alerting them to be ready to lower him in. He gave them the thumbs up. The second rescue swimmer on his team attached the line to his harness. He would stay behind, monitoring the situation, available to pull Shane and the victims from the sea. Shane braced himself then jumped in, the impact of the water robbing him of air momentarily.
He went through the motions, using the strength in his legs to push himself to the surface. As he gathered his bearings, he was once again reminded how fragile every human being was. How the power of the elements could crush him in an instant, that there would be nothing he could do to stop it.
The floatable was in the water, but Shane could see that it would be next to useless—it was already swamped. He doubted it would last much longer.
None of us will if I don’t move fast enough.
From where Shane struggled to stay afloat in the jarring waves, he’d lost the visual on the boat that he’d had when he was aboard the cutter. His only guide was the lights that stayed trained on the frightened boy’s location. They were less than fifty feet away. If the vessel moved in any closer, they risked smashing into what remained of Kirk’s fishing boat, likely killing the kids instantly.
Using the considerable strength he’d worked so hard to obtain, he swam with all he had, slicing through the turbulent waters, kicking furiously. They were almost in reach. As he moved in close, it became clear that one of Joel’s friends was badly hurt. Joel had the young man wrapped in an embrace, but even so, Shane could see the awkward angle of Joel’s friend’s arm. At first, Shane didn’t notice anything else unusual other than the fact that the victim appeared sluggish, but then Shane realized what it was. The boy also had a head wound that was bleeding continuously, but the waves crashing over him kept washing the blood away.
Safe Shores Page 3