Switch Hitter

by Cheyenne Meadows

  Dixon adjusted his position while maintaining the lip-lock, took the weight of his upper body onto his hands, braced on either side of Tucker’s head, then nudged forward.

  Pressure and resistance captured Tucker’s attention. He pressed his heels into the mattress, angled his hips, and felt Dixon’s cock enter. A sharp sting accompanied the invasion.

  Tucker drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and held on to Dixon’s back with a strong grip.

  “Nice and easy, Tucker. We’re not in any rush.”

  Tucker opened one eye to peer up at Dixon. “That’s what you think.” He used his leverage to surge upward, taking more of Dixon’s erection inside.

  Fullness and a spark of pleasure began to replace the discomfort. Tucker lifted again, opening himself to another gentle thrust by Dixon.

  Dixon stopped his momentum and showered Tucker with light caresses with his lips and eager licks over Tucker’s chest and shoulders. He nuzzled Tucker’s cheek and teased his earlobe. “Okay?”

  Tucker growled at the halt in the main action, lifted his head, and nipped at Dixon’s biceps. He wanted more. Needed everything. The sweetness he’d appreciate later, but right now he was going up in flames.

  Dixon chuckled and stared down at Tucker. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.” Tucker grabbed Dixon’s hips and pulled.

  Dixon thrust, burying himself completely.

  The pain disappeared just as fast as it had appeared, leaving Tucker with nothing but rippling heat and an unbelievable sensation of being filled. Something inside clicked, setting his restraint free in a zealous quest for the pinnacle.

  With Dixon covering his body, he could do little more than explore with his hands, nibble, and kiss. He gyrated his lower body as much as possible, but found himself limited with Dixon’s presence on top of him.

  “Damn, Tucker.” Dixon dropped down to settle his weight on top of Tucker, their skin brushing with every breath. With Dixon bracing himself on his forearms, closeness became the precedent.

  Tucker soaked it up for a minute, then squirmed in encouragement for Dixon to get busy. “Fuck me.” He punctuated the order with a quick nip to Dixon’s chin.

  Dixon chuckled. “Topping from the bottom. I had no doubt.”

  Tucker wasn’t sure what Dixon meant and his brain didn’t have enough blood left to think past his present needs. All he knew was that he needed to be taken and Dixon wasn’t moving. Frustrated, he tried to sit up only for Dixon to press him right back down.

  “Where are you going?” Dixon’s eyebrows furrowed.

  Tucker clamped down with his muscles on Dixon’s cock, growled, and sharply nibbled on the thick muscle of Dixon’s shoulder right in front of him. “If you’re not going to fuck me, then roll over and I’ll fuck myself on your cock.”

  Dixon’s mouth fell open. His eyes narrowed, then flashed with intense desire. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

  Tucker flashed his fangs. “Yeah. Now fuck me already.”

  Dixon started to move. Fast. Hard. No more tentative motions. Nope. Dixon meant business as he pounded into Tucker, sinking deep on every stroke.

  Wanton wildness took over. Tucker yipped. He writhed. He countered every thrust. It wasn’t enough. Needing more, he bracketed Dixon’s hips with his legs, opening himself up to anything Dixon had to give.

  In return, Dixon found a new gear. He stroked powerfully in and out, then edged his body a little higher. The new angle caused him to hit a hot spot with each down stroke.

  Immense pleasure shot through Tucker. He cried out, wrapped his arms around Dixon, and arched his back to get closer to the fiery edge. He’d never felt anything this intense and knew the imminent climax would be one for the record books.

  Dixon raked his fangs over Tucker’s pec. “Come for me.”

  The slight sting notched Tucker ever closer. The mumbled command didn’t hurt either.

  Dixon plowed inside, hitting his gland. Once. Twice. A third time.

  Tucker growled, then gasped as suddenly he launched into rapture. The tingling started in his groin, but quickly zipped through the rest of his body. One acutely sharp tightening was quickly followed by an explosion. Tucker hit the first crest with a howl of ecstasy. Over and over he peaked, each one punctuated with a cry of some sort, a plea for more and a celebration of sexual bliss. Panting, he locked his gaze with Dixon’s, admired the scrunching up of Dixon’s face, and the way his lips pulled back in an odd smile. The expression of coming. Hard.

  Tight pressure inside snared his focus. He drew in air as Dixon lodged deep inside, his knot buried and swollen, locking them together. Warmth where they were connected entered into the equation, adding to the amazing pleasure, kicking it up another notch. Time flew by, leaving Tucker unable to say how long it lasted, just that he never wanted it to end.

  All too soon minor quakes racked Tucker’s body, leaving him spent, sated, and damn content.

  Dixon’s shoulder loomed right in front of Tucker’s mouth. He heard the ragged breathing in his ear and felt the hard tremble that went through Dixon. Sweat coated Dixon’s skin and the addition of Dixon’s weight felt good. Addictive good.

  Tucker found himself placing kisses on Dixon’s neck, needing to ease his partner down with quiet affection, a shower of appreciation as well as a precursor to what might happen. Later. After they had time to catch their breath.

  As if reading his mind, Dixon sat up, peered down at Tucker, and grinned wryly. “That was one hell of a ride.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tucker found himself smiling back. Dixon’s knot had started to ease considerably.

  Dixon tilted his head and sobered for a moment. “You okay?”

  “Splendid.” Tucker wanted to wipe away the concern he read on Dixon’s face. The sentiment touched him, but there was no reason for it. Not when he felt better than he had in days. He lifted his hand and cupped Dixon’s cheek. “I’m perfect.”

  Relief replaced worry in Dixon’s eyes. “Good.” He turned his head and kissed Tucker’s palm.

  The light brushing of lips jolted Tucker back into the realm of sexual need. With something more personal. More emotional.

  Except for one thing. “I have to pee.”

  Dixon chuckled, pulled out, and rolled to the side.

  The movement of Dixon’s cock in his ass stirred up desire even more.

  “Then you should go.” Dixon moved to the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll use the spare bathroom. You take this one.”

  “Deal.” Tucker remained still, watching the snap and flex of Dixon’s muscles as he walked out of the room.

  A warning tingle from his bladder put Tucker into motion. He slid off the bed and made a straight line for the bathroom, his steps sure and stable, testament to the fact that the alcohol had largely worked its way out of his system.

  As he washed his hands afterward, he absently checked himself out in the mirror at the same time. “Damn.” He had a goofy expression on his face along with a grin. That made sense considering how he felt—happy and outrageously horny.

  An oddity. Normally after a robust round of hot sex, he was sated. Occasionally, he’d drag things out longer, if the girl really revved his motor. He couldn’t recall feeling this good right afterward, though. As if it was different. More exciting. Better.

  Finished with cleaning up, he stepped back into the bedroom and paused at the sight before him. Dixon, in all his naked glory, stretched out on his side across the center of the oversized bed. The gorgeous display of firm muscles, a handsome face, and a large hard-on didn’t go unnoticed by Tucker or his suddenly rampant desires.

  He licked his lips and simply stared. An urge to flirt blossomed right along with his quickly rising erection. “Well, well. What do we have here?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb.

  Dixon grinned and propped his head up with his palm, his elbow braced against the mattress. “Like what you see?”

  Oh, yeah. Tucker bit back
a smile, preferring to drag out the verbal fun. A version of foreplay. One he enjoyed.

  His inner beast barked in excitement, encouraging Tucker to join Dixon on the bed and get busy on the next round. We’ll get there. In a minute or three. “What big eyes you have.”

  Dixon blinked. “Eyes? Not cock?” He reached down to take his dick in hand and slowly stroked.

  Tucker couldn’t hold back the smile. “And what big teeth you have.”

  “I’m a fox, not the big bad wolf.” Dixon smirked. “Or am I?” He rose to hands and knees, then growled low in his throat.

  The sound carried through the room and straight to Tucker’s aching balls. He answered with a low cry of his own, a promise of submission, if only Dixon would cover him once again.

  A bead of moisture emerged from the tip of Dixon’s already full cock.

  The erotic scene made Tucker’s stomach flip, his dick jump, and his inner wild dog pant with exceptional need. His heart sped and his breath caught. In amazement, Tucker realized what he wanted. For Dixon to top him as an alpha forces a submissive to his bidding. He’d gladly roll over and beg, if it earned him Dixon’s shaft thrusting into his ass again.

  Casually, Tucker walked over to the bed, his eyes never leaving Dixon. “Gonna fuck me again?”

  Dixon’s eyes turned molten. “Oh, yeah. There’s no doubt about it.” Sitting back on his haunches, Dixon gestured to the mattress. “Ass in the air this time.”

  The words sent a tidal wave of heat through Tucker’s veins and into his cock, which began to throb in anticipation.

  He didn’t waste time in climbing onto the mattress, halting near Dixon, then looking back when Dixon didn’t immediately move to cover him. “Change your mind?”

  “Hell, no.” Dixon found the previously discarded tube of gel, squirted some out, and rubbed the lube over Tucker’s rear.

  The coolness made Tucker draw in a breath before the exquisite sensation of Dixon pressing a couple of fingers into his hole warmed him right back up. He angled back in anticipation of something bigger and harder.

  “Enough teasing. Fuck me already.” The words gritted out between his teeth.

  Dixon lightly slapped him on the right cheek. “Patience. I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.”

  The lippy comment only jacked Tucker up higher. He’d never considered how men screwed, the way of things, the details in the bedroom. Yet, he had not a single complaint. Well, one. Dixon wasn’t moving fast enough to get his cock inside Tucker’s eager ass.

  Staying the course, Dixon didn’t do more than prepare Tucker, tormenting him with anticipation in the process.

  “Damn, Dixon. Please.” A whimper followed.

  Tucker never recalled begging before, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed this more than he needed his next meal. His next breath. His next… anything.

  Dixon rained kisses down Tucker’s spine while he reached around and took Tucker’s cock in hand. He stroked lightly, paying extra attention to the mushroom head.

  Sparks of pleasure rushed over Tucker. He moaned in response.

  “Like that?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  Dixon continued to play with Tucker’s shaft for a few moments longer before dipping farther back and cupping the low hanging sac. He rolled the balls gently, then raked his fangs carefully over Tucker’s lower back.

  The aggressive nature of the near biting shot Tucker’s libido through the roof. “Now.”

  Dixon pressed his erection against Tucker’s hole, then shoved.

  “Shit.” The biting pain stole Tucker’s breath. He jerked, then shoved back when the hurt dissipated as quickly as it arrived.

  “Okay?” Dixon remained still.

  The lack of motion frustrated Tucker. He needed action. Hard thrusting. To be taken like the animal he was. “Yeah. Just….” He grunted, then yipped as Dixon surged in and out with power.

  “Yes. Oh, hell, yes.” Tucker met him in counterpoint.

  The primal coupling tore away what remained of Tucker’s inhibitions and let loose his wild side. He lowered to his forearms for a couple of strokes, moaned, then went back up to all fours to shove back and meet Dixon’s every thrust. He writhed, wiggled, and rocked with the motions, needing every inch Dixon could give him and more.

  His inner beast howled with excitement.

  Tucker followed suit as he slammed into climax with the force of a runaway train.

  Chapter 4

  TUCKER WOKE languidly, finding himself on his side in a large bed, facing the window. Bright sunlight streamed through and onto his face, announcing the day had begun. All well and good, except Tucker was not motivated to rouse. Not when a warm body nestled against his back, the soft skin providing a soothing quality that he wasn’t ready to abandon. In addition, the sheet rested across his lower stomach, already tented with his morning wood, a precursor to a beautiful day in bed. If he had his way.

  He grinned wickedly to himself. Obviously all the sex last night hasn’t put a dent in my rampant horniness.

  That caught his attention. Big time.

  Sex last night.

  The thought jarred something in his brain, bringing reality back in a rush.

  He froze and frantically searched his memory. The images rushed through his mind in a whirlwind of erotic pictures. The intent to get drunk to forget his problems for a while, Dixon’s intervention, the overwhelming horniness and desire for Dixon. The visuals, scents, and sounds. Even the feelings bombarded him with delightful memories. Each stirred up his sexual desire to greater levels. Then the screwing. Oh, yeah. That he couldn’t forget.

  He hadn’t gotten it out of his system last night—he’d only just awakened it.

  He clenched his rear, finding a decided soreness that he’d never experienced before. His back door had always been off-limits. His other lovers didn’t seem to mind. The ladies wanted his cock buried in their greedy holes instead of delving into some kinky reversal of roles.

  But he’d never been with a man before. Until last night. When Dixon climbed on board and took them both on a trip to an amazing ecstasy. The level of rapture he couldn’t remember experiencing nor had he thought possible.

  Something clicked between him and Dixon. Clicked so well that he was more than primed for another round or three.

  Except one tiny fact didn’t make the least bit of sense—he was straight. Never looked twice at another man other than as a friend, acquaintance, or a teammate. Certainly not a potential lover.

  Now, he rested in another man’s arms as naked as the day he was born. Comfortably. Happily. Lazily.

  Hell, he’d never cuddled with the women he’d slept with. Didn’t want to. Today, he found sliding out of bed and away from his male lover more than difficult.

  Holy shit. I rolled over and let Dixon fuck me like a bitch in heat. Let, hell. I begged for it.

  The outrageous thought spurred him into action. He slid off the side of the bed, scoured the room, found his clothes, and quickly slid them on. Only when he buttoned up his pants did he spare a glance to the bed.

  The sight stole his breath.

  Dixon stared at him, with his head propped up with his elbow, his short light brown hair tousled from sleep. If that wasn’t sexy enough, his muscular shoulders, chest, and abs were on display, framed and contrasted by the white linens against his tanned skin. The tip of his cock peeked out from under the rumpled sheet, full and ready for action. The expression on Dixon’s face could only be called hungry. Tucker’s wayward dick hardened to granite.

  Damn.

  He immediately felt the loss of body heat and something more. Something he didn’t bother trying to name at this moment in time. His head was too busy trying to wrap itself around the obvious evidence of what he’d done.

  Reality sank in with sharp clarity. “What did I do?”

  Dixon’s face clouded. “You don’t remember?”

  If only it were that simple. For a second Tucker grappled with the impulse to p
retend amnesia, to forget what happened and walk away for good. His inner wild dog growled angrily at the thought.

  Lying wasn’t his thing and now would be a lousy time to start. As tempting and convenient as it might happen to be.

  Pulling on his last ounce of decency, he faced Dixon with serious resolve. “I remember everything. Yeah, I was drunk, well, partway, but it’s all there. Every moment.” With the words came flashes of the erotic bliss from the night before. Stoically, he ignored them along with his aching cock.

  This happened every time he broke up with a girl. Got drunk. Slept around. Woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Though never with a man before. A teammate at that.

  “So… what’s the problem?” Dixon sat up. The action allowed the sheet to dip lower, showing off Dixon’s impressive hard-on.

  Unable to take his eyes off the other man’s shaft, Tucker drew in a deep breath and forced his lust-filled and confused mind back to work. “I’m not gay.” The statement sounded weak to his own ears.

  Dixon rubbed his five o’clock shadow, drawing attention to his scruffy face, which only added to his overall rugged and handsome appearance.

  Stop it, already. Enough ogling.

  His self-chastising only made his inner beast bark in disagreement.

  “You don’t have to be gay, Tucker. Considering you’ve been dating women, I wouldn’t remotely consider labeling you as gay.”

  Tucker gave a brief nod, still reeling from the stark realization.

  “You’re bisexual.”

  He jerked his head up. “What? Oh, no. No. I’m straight. Always have been. Just drank too much and….” He swept his arm in a half circle in front of him.

  “And we fucked,” Dixon finished for him.

  “Yeah.” Tucker ran his hand through his hair and slipped his shirt back on. The still-damp material clung to his chest, adding a bit of a chill. “It just happened. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.” He caught the momentary flinch in Dixon’s face. Guilt landed hard on his shoulders.