Sasha looked surprised, and stumbled over her words. “Couch? Oh, of course…not. Of course not. That would be a good idea. No worry about charging it on your per diem—it’s our family suite. It’s free. My sisters had it before me. But…do you know why this Dickhead is out to get me? Maybe Jane was his intended target, and not John?”
“No, it was Maliano, no doubt about that. Too many things point to El Zeub having been an employee of Maliano, on their payroll. But he’s gone off the rails, so maybe his focus has shifted.” Rowan smiled and squeezed her shoulders, even dared rubbing them a little with his thumbs. “Maybe when he saw you at Winterhawk with Jane. I can’t say as I blame him. You caught my attention, too.”
“Not in a mad bomber way, I hope!”
How he wanted to hold her to his chest! She was like a delicate bird that needed protection. “Of course not. In a more nefarious way, maybe.”
“Bombers don’t usually rape. That’s not their MO.”
“Right. I honestly have no idea what he wants from you. I’m not going to make any more conjectures until I see him again with my own eyes.”
“Sasha!”
Rowan had to let go of the woman when she took a few steps to view Perry Donovan. He sat like a youth straddling a bare branch that stuck out from the cliff’s ledge, bare feet dangling, dressed enticingly in nothing but trunks. Rowan was right. He did have a smooth, hairless chest. Like a boy next door, he was tanned a rich chestnut shade, no doubt from patrolling the desert shirtless.
Rowan’s former lust for the ranger reared its head. It disturbed him to feel the same prurient desire for Perry that he had just felt for Sasha. It confused him. He had thought his yen for Sasha was pure, noble, with long-term goals. And he sure as shit knew his lust for the studly warden was nothing more than a cheap random hookup that had satisfied both partners.
But now, seeing the younger man balancing on the branch and waving innocently to Sasha, he wasn’t so sure. Because he wanted to do it again.
And it raised concerns about the sincerity of his feelings for Sasha. If his noble love for her was pushed into the background just for the opportunity to sink this conservation officer’s dick down his throat again, what did that say about him? Not many good things. His lusts were two different things—or so he thought—but equally as powerful.
Devilish now, he raised a hand in greeting to the warden. “Officer Donovan,” he called.
Donovan froze, his hand greeting Sasha in midair.
Rowan knew this would surprise Sasha, too. She said, “Oh, you two know each other? How is that possible?”
“We ran into each other in the desert yesterday. He had some incident with some amorous people dressed in full-size bunny suits.”
Sasha smiled with amusement. “Yes, he brought two of them in after citing them for public lewdness.”
“Yiffing,” said Rowan.
“Excuse me?”
“Yiffing. That’s their word for making the beast with two backs.”
Sasha giggled. “Literally. Oh!”
She gasped loudly when, with no prior notification, Rowan stripped off his light windbreaker that covered his shoulder holster. He held out a calming hand, and removed the holster slower. “You ever shot a gun?”
She shrugged, though she clasped her hands together nervously and twiddled her fingers. “I’ve…taken classes for my job. Thought I should if I’m going to be around crime scenes. Though I never carry one.”
Rowan gently deposited the holster on top of the jacket, but was a bit quicker in whipping off his shirt. Now he carefully scanned her face for her reaction. Yes, her pupils were dilating as she drank in the sight of his well-developed chest. Unlike Perry, his was covered with a salt-and-pepper sprinkling of satiny hair, and he knew most women preferred that. “It’s getting hot. Thought I’d join your buddy in the water.” Kicking off his running shoes, he peeled the jeans and before Sasha could gasp again, he was standing in his boxer briefs.
Which had been his plan. Once he heard the couple had gone to a swimming hole, he knew he could up his game by drawing Sasha’s—and Perry’s—attention to his hale physique. He might be a forty-eight-year-old geezer, but he was in a fit fighting shape.
Now he flashed Sasha a smile. “Why don’t you join us, too?”
“Someone has to watch over your gun.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Yelling like George of the Jungle, Rowan ran to the cliff’s edge and executed a cannonball over the edge. He hoped he hadn’t miscalculated the water’s depth. It was October, and hadn’t rained since June probably. But he hit the water’s surface with a satisfying plop, and he swam underwater a short way.
Almost immediately, Perry swam his way. From down here, looking up into the deep blue sky rippled by the skin of the water, Perry looked like a white, paddling dog. Rowan wondered what sort of balancing game he’d play with this one. He’d been overwhelmed by Perry Donovan’s boyish beauty. Perry was a by-the-book officer, and Rowan had toyed with the scintillating memory of handcuffing him and ravishing him with his mouth. Forced orgasms were Rowan’s specialty. The thrashing, the protestations, the resistance that turned to twitching and gasping, then to overwhelming ecstasy. Perry was an upright nature boy, and Rowan was surprised he had abandoned resistance as easily as he had once his dick was in Rowan’s hot mouth. This one might be easier than most.
But Rowan knew he had his hands full with Sasha and Perry. Two upright people, resistant to a nice debauch for reasons of their own. It actually might be easier to convince Perry of the pleasures of rutting than to convince the woman.
Rowan surfaced, treading water, right in Perry’s trajectory. They nearly crashed into each other, and Rowan gripped Perry’s shoulder. “Whoa, nature boy.” He had decided to call him that. It displayed his dominance and affection for the warden both at the same time.
Perry treaded water, too, his eyes flashing with ire. “What are you doing here? You know Miss McQueen from somewhere?”
Rowan fixed Perry with his famously unyielding stare. “The Winterhawk bombing.”
Perry’s treading arms stilled. “So she was there at the Winterhawk bombing. Do you think she was the intended target?”
“No. It was obviously the congressman, and Sasha was collateral damage.”
“Is she the one you think Hinton is out to get now? You said he was pursuing a subject in McQueen Valley. Is it her?”
Rowan breathed deeply of the heated Indian summer air rolling over the surface of the pool. He fixed Perry with his eyes, assessing the level of trust he was willing to bestow the warden with. Rowan realized it could only help for Perry to know. Perry should know to be on his guard when near Sasha. And another man with a gun wouldn’t hurt. “Yes. I have reason to believe he’s after Sasha now, too. For what, I don’t know. That’s why I wanted your eyes and ears in the field. If you have anyone else you can trust who’s licensed with a gun, we can let them know, too. Don’t you have a partner, a backup?”
“I do. Officer—Sergeant Gabriel Verona.”
Rowan had seen that strapping six-foot-five hulk at the McQueen family’s restaurant table. He seemed to never leave the side of the betrothed couple, Brooke and Adrian. “Oh yeah? That stud is your partner?”
Perry frowned. “Not in the way you’re implying, buddy. Listen, if it’s any consolation, I think Sasha is tougher than you give her credit for. She cuts up dead bodies for a living.”
“I know.” Already it was becoming a power play. Which of them was held in higher esteem in Sasha’s eyes? Which one knew more intimate things about her? “She’s a tough one, but she’s not licensed to carry, so she’s agreed to let me stay in her lodge suite.”
Rowan expected the flash of anger that lit up Perry’s periwinkle-blue eyes. Perry had work to do in the field. He could never take time off to protect Dr. McQueen. It wasn’t in his job description—but it was in Rowan’s. He underestimated the depth of Perry’s emotional injury, though. “Well,�
�� Perry said tightly, practically splashing water at Rowan in his eagerness to be rid of him. “What do you need me for, then?” Pivoting, he kicked away from Rowan in a clumsy side stroke.
Perry had more swimming experience than Rowan—one didn’t swim much when tracking domestic terror suspects—so he pulled himself up on a sandy bank before Rowan even made it there. Perry leaned back on an elbow and propped one leg up, gazing distantly at some important cottonwood tree.
Hauling himself up the bank, Rowan reclined in a similar manner. Taking Perry’s jaw between his fingers, forcing him to look at him, Rowan said, “I’m sorry, buddy. I know you’re interested in the stunning medical examiner yourself. I’ve got an unfair advantage by being her bodyguard.”
“Yeah,” Perry said hotly, “you do.”
Rowan rubbed Perry’s sultry lower lip with his thumb. “If it’s any consolation, I’m about two thousand years too old for her.”
“And I’m two thousand years too young!”
“Is there such a thing?” Rowan grinned. “Boy toys and all that.”
“Yeah. She might play with me, but women don’t marry boy toys.”
That was true. She’d be much more liable to marry the grizzled, retired military contractor who had already earned enough money to settle comfortably the rest of his life. “So it’s marriage you’re looking for?”
“Who isn’t?”
Rowan sat up and began stroking the smooth chest. He did it absentmindedly, as though his hand had just strayed, needed something to do while he talked. But the moment his fingertip slightly rubbed the tan, coin-like areola of Perry’s nipple, the long cock nestled in Perry’s wet trunks twitched. It elongated easily by an inch just from Rowan’s mere touch. Rowan had to think fast. “That’s very sweet of you, looking for a wife. Must be difficult to find one when you work in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah.” Perry harrumphed. “It doesn’t help when the gal I’ve set my sights on is living with you.”
Rowan applied a circular pressure to the nipple now. The cock erected so stiffly it tented out the drying cotton. “Am I a threat, though? I’m closer to the grave than the cradle.”
“You’re handsome,” Perry said grudgingly. Rowan wanted to hear more compliments, so his fingers strayed down Perry’s tight abdomen, toying with the shiny line of blond hair that arrowed into his trunks. “You’ve got an impressive, dangerous job.”
“So do you. You’ve got a whaling bigger cock.” Rowan knew Perry would go silent with shock, so he took this opportunity to side his hand even lower and grasp a handful of the erection, so juicy and pliant beneath his palm. Squeezing, he displayed the bulbous mushroom head of it, the outline visible beneath the damp, thin fabric. He was lying about Perry having a bigger cock, but he wanted to buoy up the younger man’s self-esteem. “Women appreciate the aesthetics of a thick, juicy prick like this.”
“Good God,” Perry breathed. “She’s going to see.”
“She can’t see us from here.” Rowan lied, sweeping his hand beneath the waistband and grabbing a length of cock. His goal was actually to have Sasha see them. He imagined the indirect approach might work better with such a timid, upright woman. “And I have a feeling you could use some satisfaction around about now.”
Perry’s head lolled back on a rubbery neck, and his eyes slid shut as Rowan began to pump his erection with a dry palm. It was arousing having the nearly naked conservation officer in his very hands. “Let me satisfy you, nature boy. You know it gives me pleasure to watch and feel your satisfaction.”
Beads of perspiration appeared on Perry’s upper lip. He was the sort who was so perpetually youthful he couldn’t grow a proper full beard or moustache, and the sweat shone through the sparse hair there. Gasping suddenly, Perry’s eyes popped open and he slapped his palm over Rowan’s. “All Sasha has to do is look over the edge of that cliff, Rowan. Then she’s going to want neither one of us.”
“Au contraire,” breathed Rowan. “You aren’t old enough to know women as well as me.” Perry released his fist from around Rowan’s, although he hadn’t heard the explanation yet. Rowan continued jacking his friend, the stiff cock velvety against his palm. “This is exactly the sort of thing women do like.” His free hand fondled Perry’s balls, hot and hairy in his grip.
Perry got to his knees, mirroring Rowan’s position. They faced each other frontally now, Rowan’s bulging cock straining against the thin cotton. Perry dared to put one hand on Rowan’s shoulder, the other tentatively hovering above the clothed erection. “What makes you say women like it?”
“Because I’ve seen it.” Rowan gave Perry’s dick several thorough pumps. He had seen it hundreds of times, particularly in eastern countries. Perhaps because it was more forbidden there or perhaps because it alleviated any burden or risk on the women involved, it really turned them on to watch two men go hard at it. American women, too, Rowan had seen this time and again. “Women like seeing one man alone, enjoying his own body. Makes sense that women would enjoy it doubly watching two men pleasure each other. As long as they have it in their mind that it’s a possibility they might be allowed to join in, it gets them so wet they slide right out of their seats.”
Now the corner of Perry’s mouth lifted in a lazy grin. His hand did more than hover over Rowan’s prick—he gave it a decisive squeeze. “You’re a lying bastard.”
“Believe you me, boy. I’ve been around longer than you. Hundreds of times I’ve seen women get unbelievably hot watching me suck—”
“I mean about your dick being smaller than mine.” Perry hitched some fingers under the waistband of the briefs and drew them down, over the slope of Rowan’s ass. Rowan knew he looked good, was well-built and buffer than the warden, and he knew Sasha was watching. He could always tell when he was being watched, and he knew her little eyes were peering over the lip of the cliff above. Boldly Perry wrapped his long fingers around Rowan’s naked tool. “You’re plenty hung.” He even seemed to be taking enjoyment in jacking Rowan. He wasn’t looking around to make sure Sasha was watching.
It was Rowan who eventually couldn’t resist looking. “There she is,” he panted, nearly on the verge of orgasm already at the mercy of Perry’s virginal fingers. He positioned himself, of course, so Sasha would get the biggest eyeful of his burgeoning cock. As predicted, the top of her little ash-blonde head was almost a silhouette at the top of the cliff. She was the spitting image of Kilroy Was Here, clutching the edge of the sandstone and peering tentatively over. As the sun was behind her, he could only just make out her wide eyes. It was a toss-up as to whether she’d run screaming in horror or stay, an appreciative audience.
As for what he’d do if Sasha enjoyed the sight of Perry’s body more than his, Rowan hadn’t calculated that far yet.
Rowan gripped Perry’s jaw in his free hand. “Watch and learn, nature boy. Having gone around the block a few times gives me all sorts of advantages.” And he kissed the officer full on his sweet, sultry mouth.
He knew Perry wouldn’t protest. Not after Rowan’s assurances it was turning Sasha on. In a way, he actually was snowing the poor man, convincing him if he just turned up the heat with him, they’d have Sasha in the palm of their hand. Rowan was using it to manipulate Perry into doing what he wanted. Rowan did want to slide his tongue down Perry’s throat, to lap at the roof of his mouth, to work his jaw against Perry’s. The fronts of their thighs plastered together, each man jacking the other furiously now. Rowan slapped Perry’s buoyant, naked ass, knowing the spanking was sending a thrill through Perry’s loins. He smacked him again, the crack resounding in the watery grotto.
Perry gasped and pulled back his torso just as Rowan’s hand massaged his stiff corona, the ridge of his cockhead. His thumb rubbed the few drops of semen that dripped there to give a smooth ride to his jacking fist, and he knew his friend was close.
“Bastard!” Perry gasped, his eyes full of fire.
Rowan spanked him again. He knew the shocking sensation, a mixt
ure of pleasure and pain, would send the officer over the edge. Perry’s eyes rolled up in his skull now and he’d all but given up jacking Rowan.
“You fucking bastard. She sees me coming like a fucking teenager and—ah!”
His head thrown back, Perry gulped silently, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his dick squirted semen over Rowan’s abdomen.
“There, that’s right. Come,” Rowan urged. “Come for me, nature boy. Show Sasha how much jism you’ve got in that sac. Show her how much you like being jacked by an old black ops merc like me. All you want to do is shoot your load all over my stiff dick. That’s right. Keep pumping. Let me jerk every last seed from your big shaft.” His other hand gently squeezed the balls, urging every drop from the prick.
Perry still choked, as though in the throes of the most massive orgasm of his life. Rowan’s prick twitched, too, eager to come. When he sensed he’d choked the last drop from the poor boy, it only took one light shove against his shoulder and the lifeless fellow was on his back in the sand.
Gripping his cock at the base, Rowan straddled Perry at the hips. Kneeling, he loomed over him with dominance, knowing Perry had no more energy to protest as he stroked his own cock. “Leave it up to Sasha to decide who’s more impressive,” Rowan suggested. With his arms flung up over his head and his mouth open stupidly, Perry seemed perfectly content to remain passive, as though he just wanted to see what Rowan did next. “The little nature boy who shoots his wad the second another man jacks him—”
“Hey, you bastard,” Perry protested, a glimmer of understanding entering his eyes.
“—or the big, muscular stud who washes the other one’s face with his giant load.”
Rowan gasped out the last few words, as his orgasm was upon him. Watching the ranger sprawled beneath him naked like that was incredibly arousing—but knowing Sasha watched them with wide eyes sent him over the edge. Almost with no preparation, Rowan’s cock exploded with jism, splashing Perry’s chest, neck, and now face. One burst hit him squarely on the chin, and Rowan was surprised that Perry parted his lips and licked a bit of the semen. His eyes were open and round, unaccustomed to having another man frig himself onto him. Rowan posed, jerked and twitched, in what he knew was the most attractive manner, to give the peeping Sasha the best possible view of his toned body.
The Grass Is Greener [McQueen Was My Valley 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6