On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel]

Home > Contemporary > On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel] > Page 29
On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel] Page 29

by Sean Michael


  Deuce gave them a shit eating grin. “How come I don't believe you want me to chop onions, Uncle Alex?"

  Rock cuffed Deuce's back. “Brat. Go."

  Deuce saluted sharply. “Yes, Gunny. Whatever you say, Gunny."

  Rig started laughing, eyes just dancing. “He's going to kick your young ass, boy."

  Rock's eyes narrowed. “I'm giving it some serious thought."

  "Ah, but I'm young and quick, Gunny."

  "But I've got experience and cunning on my side.” Rock just growled, he even looked like he was getting ready to go for it.

  "You've also got Uncle Alex and Richard there to distract you."

  "Oh, now, you're begging for it.” Rock could move when he wanted to and Deuce never had a chance. Rock pounced, grabbing Deuce around the shoulders and giving him one hell of a noogie.

  "Don't injure him! I need him!” Gary was leaning against the doorframe, grinning and shaking his head.

  "He started it.” Rock was grinning to beat the band, trying hard to keep his hold on Deuce.

  "Of course he did. He's a marine.” Gary winked and Deuce wrenched out of Rock's grip, pouncing Gary.

  "Was that a crack?” Rock asked, looming.

  Rig reached out, fingers sliding down the seam of Rock's jeans. “No, Rock. That's a crack."

  Dick started laughing as Rock's face showed his battle over whether to be ticked or turned on. Rig touched again, stroking just a little. Turned on won, just like that and Dick's laughter changed, because husky. Rock looked right at Rig. “I dare you to do that again."

  "I like dares.” Rig hummed, stroked Rock's ass again, even as Gary and Deuce scooted away

  Rock groaned, pushing back into touch.

  "I dare you to do it to me, too.” Dick grinned, unrepentant.

  "Mmhmm.” Damn, Rig had fine hands.

  Rock wrapped an arm around each of them, tugging them both up against that amazing body.

  "Mmm. I was supposed to make a cheese ball...” Rig rubbed against them both.

  "There's cheese,” Dick pointed out. It wasn't in cheese ball form, but still...

  "And there's bacon."

  "Uh-huh...” Rig was staring at Rock, watching those lips. “We're cooking supper..."

  "Cooking...” Rock licked his lips and leaned in.

  "Uh...” Rig moaned, stretching up for the kiss.

  "I'll show you cooking.” Rock closed the last inches, bringing their mouths together in a kiss that was probably as hot to feel as it was to watch.

  Dick watched Rig arch and moan, entire body responding to Rock's kiss. He bit his bottom lip. They had too many people in the house to do all the things he suddenly wanted to do. He settled for grabbing both asses. Squeezed them tight. Rig flushed a little, moaned into Rock's lips, focused and happy.

  "We got guests,” he whispered, chin resting on Rock's shoulder as he watched them kiss.

  "Yeah. We have time.” Rig licked at Rock's lips, humming soft. “You still rock my fucking world, Blue."

  And Deuce and Gary knew enough to stay away. Hell, maybe they were having a little time out of their own. Rock rumbled, arms going around Rig and tugging him in close. “Of course I do. How do you want me to rock it right now?"

  "Another kiss, Blue. We don't have to get creative."

  "The chandelier's broken anyway.” Rock winked and took Rig's mouth.

  Fuck, he loved the way they loved each other. The way they needed. It almost took his knees out, and he locked them in place, bit his lip as his breath caught in his throat.

  "More,” Dick whispered.

  Rig nodded, pushing into the kisses, one after another, eyes holding Rock's. They put on a show for him, tongue sliding together, licking at each other's mouths, teeth clashing at one point as Rock suddenly deepened their kisses. Dick groaned and rubbed against them. Rig's hand slid down his back, rubbing lazy circles against his spine. It made him moan and rub harder, finding Rock's thigh with his cock. Rig was humping Rock, moving slow and easy, just like they were fucking. A part of him wanted to reach in there and get them all naked at least from the waist down, but there was something sexy about doing this fully dressed, so he didn't.

  "We should...” Rig moaned, tongue pushing into Rock's lips.

  Rock's mouth closed over it, Rock sucking on it, making Dick groan and rub harder. Rock could set Rig on fire. Hell, so could he. They had their own personal cockhound back—healthier and happy, wanting them.

  The oven timer beeped and he groaned, breaking away to go check the ham.

  Rock lifted Rig up onto the counter, pushing right in between those long thighs, Rig wrapping close. He copped a feel of Rock's ass as he went by, giving it a squeeze. Rock flexed his gluts. Sexy fucking man.

  Opening the oven, he checked the ham, basting it and checking the sweet potatoes before he shut the oven door.

  "All he needs is a flowery apron and he'd be Mr. Domesticity."

  Dick stuck his tongue out at Rock.

  "He's amazing. I'd fuck him—in an apron or out.” Rig's look made him feel ten fucking feet tall.

  "If it's a kink I'd bet he'll put the apron on just for you."

  Dick punched Rock in the arm, but he was laughing, too. Rock had his number—he'd do just about anything for the two of them. He leaned against Rock, hand reaching out to run through Rig's curls. “I would, but Rig wouldn't ask me to."

  "Nope. I'll take y'all however I can get you."

  "Yeah, feeling's mutual."

  "You know it.” Rock nodded, wrapping an arm around his neck and turning his head for a kiss that scorched him right through.

  Rig moaned, lips tickling his ear. “So fucking good, Pretty."

  He nodded, breathless and horny, cock trying to push right out of his jeans.

  "The baby-marine and his man are going to be good and wait out there until we give them the all clear,” muttered Rock, hands poking under his t-shirt and stroking over his belly.

  "Mmm. I could suck y'all. Real quick. No mess."

  "And I could do you after.” It wouldn't be fair if Rig didn't get off, too.

  "I love it when a plan comes together. Do the kid first."

  "Why, when I can have both of you at the same time?” Rig slid off the counter, kneeling on the floor.

  "Oh. Oh, fuck.” He loved it when Rig sucked them together.

  Rock chuckled, working his own jeans off for Rig, and Dick was quick to do the same. Their pricks popped out at the same time, hard and eager for Rig's mouth.

  "Mine.” Rig moaned, drew them together with a moan, tongue sliding over both their cockheads. The heat of Rock's cock was amazing pressed up against his own; Rig's tongue felt even better. He slid his arm around Rock's waist, Rock holding his shoulders. Their free hands slid through Rig's curls as that tongue worked them like only Rig could.

  Their cocks were licked and laved, Rig looking about as blissful as could be. Rock's mouth found his and they kissed. He sucked on Rock's tongue, hips jerking as Rig pushed against his slit. Rig's fingers found his balls, and by Rock's groan, was doing the same with the big guy's. He bit down on Rock's lower lip, earning himself a rumble and a bite of his own. Then Rock slid up under his t-shirt and twisted his nipple ring. He gasped, hips jerking.

  "Bet you'll go off first,” muttered Rock.

  "You're on."

  Rig's chuckle vibrated his cock. Goddamn. Rock twisted his ring again and he reacted just like he had before, gasping and jerking and if he wasn't careful, he'd be giving it up without even fighting back. Moaning, he slid his own hand beneath Rock's t-shirt, going for the nipple without the ring first. He was going to build up to the other one. Rig wasn't helping—fortunately he wasn't helping either of them.

  Asshole.

  Beautiful, hungry asshole.

  He tugged Rock's T-shirt right off, mouth moving over Rock's shoulder as his fingers danced their way to the ringed nipple, taking his time. Rock knew it was coming, but not when, and the anticipation was going to make the
tug more intense once it happened. Of course before he had a chance to get there, Rock's hand was down the back of his jeans, one finger pushing into him, making lose his train of thought...

  Then Rig's finger starting petting his balls, stroking him over and over.

  Oh, fuck, he was going to lose it any minute.

  He grabbed hold of Rock's nipple ring and tugged, and then twisted, his mouth coming off Rock's skin with a pop. He licked at Rock's earlobe. “You want to fuck me, Rock? You want to fuck Rig? Sink into that sweet cowboy ass?"

  Rig and Rock both moaned, the suction getting harder, sweeter. Shit, he was going to come any second. He was going down fighting, though. He slid his hand over Rock's belly, stroking that beautiful six-pack, and then sliding his hand around to find the buddle of nerves just above that rock-hard ass.

  "He's so tight and he knows just how to work your cock.” His voice was soft and husky, betraying how close he was.

  Rig groaned, pulling hard, taking them both to the root. He cried out, hips snapping as he lost it and fucked Rig's mouth. Rock was right there with him, moving counter to him, their cocks sliding against each other as well as in and out of Rig's mouth. Rig, like the horndog that he was, just took them in and demanded more.

  By the end, he was just holding onto Rock, not even trying to hold back anymore, his hips flying. His cry came just before Rock's, the two of them going off almost at the same time. Heat flooded around his cock, even as his own spilled down Rig's throat. Rig took them both, cleaning their cocks with his tongue.

  "Fucking love that mouth.” Rock stroked Rig's head, petted him. “Who won?"

  Dick started giggling.

  "Me.” Rig grinned and reached up, letting them help him up, the bulge in Rig's jeans obvious.

  "That's not an answer,” grumbled Rock.

  Dick whapped him in the shoulder. “Of course it is. Now come on, let's return the favor. He dropped to his knees, mouth Rig through his jeans. Rock joined him a moment later, fingers working on the button and zipper.

  "Oh. Oh, Marines. I need, huh? I do."

  "We've got your back."

  Dick grinned and shook his head. “No, we've got his front, Rock."

  Rock rolled his eyes and Dick crowed as Rig's prick pushed out of his jeans and right into his mouth.

  "So long as y'all got me. I'm real easy, now."

  "Mmm...” He hummed around the prick in his mouth, sucking gently, wanting to build Rig up slowly. Rock's fingers dug into Rig's underwear, tugging out the man's sacs, playing with them.

  Rig spread, whimpering just a little. “Fuck, I'm a lucky son of a bitch."

  Dick nodded, moving Rig's prick up and down—they all were.

  "Merry fucking Christmas.” Rock licked at one ball, and then other.

  "Yeah. Yeah, Blue."

  "Share,” Rock growled and Dick grinned, pulling of Rig's cock. He'd wondered how long it would be before the big guy demanded a taste.

  "Please...” Rig was staring down, grey eyes just shining.

  Dick licked the tip, and then mouthed his way down the side of the shaft, giving Rock room to play with the head. As little as Rock gave blowjobs, the man knew exactly—exactly—what Rig needed, working the tip hard, making their cowboy cry out.

  Keeping to the base, Dick hummed and licked, stimulating the flesh there. They reached around Rig at the same time, squeezing that cowboy ass. Rig shot hard, going up on tiptoe and bucking, pouring himself into Rock's mouth.

  He pushed his tongue into Rock's mouth, teasing the tip of Rig's prick and getting a taste at the same time.

  Rig's knees almost buckled, a soft moan leaving him. “Oh, damn. Y'all."

  Dick leaned against one thigh, Rock against the other.

  "Merry Christmas, y'all. Merry fucking Christmas."

  Yeah. It truly was.

  Chapter Fifty Nine

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Rig had to be the most stubborn, annoying, stubborn, impossible, stubborn man in the entire world.

  Rock stood at the deck rail, looking out over the ocean, watching the waves come in, his fingers curled around the railing.

  Dick came out and handed him a beer. “You two were at it again."

  "He's being a stubborn ass."

  Dick snorted, like he was the pot calling the kettle black.

  "There's a difference. I'm being stubborn to keep him alive—he's the one who wants to work himself back into the hospital."

  "He needs to go back to work, Rock. He's bored, he doesn't feel like he's pulling his weight, he likes helping people."

  "I've heard it all, Dick. Over and over again. He is not going back to work full time, even if it means I have to go down to the office and drag his sorry ass home every afternoon."

  "Shit, the two of you are as stubborn as each other. It's damn near January and you've been at it since Christmas. Give it a rest already."

  Dick headed back inside, still grumbling away.

  He refused to feel guilty. He just didn't want Rig to get sick again—it was as simple as that.

  It wasn't long before Rig came out—beer in one hand, glass of something clear and bubbly in the other. “Beer?"

  "Kid brought me one.” He raised the bottle for Rig to see. “You warm enough in that sweater?"

  "I'm fine, yeah.” Rig set the glass down, grabbed the beer and headed down to the water, gimme cap pulled down low. Rock stood there for another couple minutes. Just on principle. Then he sighed and went after Rig, legs eating up the space between them.

  Rig wasn't hurrying, the man was just wandering, head down, beer swinging. It meant something that his redneck hadn't opened it yet. He grunted as he fell into step next to Rig, hands shoved into his pockets.

  Rig didn't say anything, but he kept right up with him, the tension in the skinny shoulders easing.

  "Nice night,” he finally murmured, breaking the silence.

  "Yeah. I love it here, you know. I really do."

  Rock nodded. “It was a good call. It's a good place. Ours."

  "Yeah.” Rig sighed, then reached out one hand to him.

  He took it with his own, twining their fingers together. Squeezed.

  Rig squeezed back, shoulder bumping his. “How can I make this right between us, Blue?"

  "Stop being so stubborn about going back full time.” He held up his free hand—he wasn't done yet. “I'm not saying don't go back. Just ... you know, ease in."

  "The problem with that, Jim, is that you and I both know I'll promise it, but then I'll get in there and have patients and I'll be there full time."

  "Then only go in a couple of days a week. I'm not losing you, Rig. I lived with you going off coffee and I didn't put up with that for nothing."

  Rig stopped short, staring at him and he braced for the screaming meanies. What he got was a laugh—loud and happy and long.

  He stared, a little stunned, one eyebrow going up. Then he shrugged and grinned. He'd take that.

  "You know, you drive me crazy sometimes, you big asshole.” Rig's arm slid around his and they started walking again.

  "Me? What did I do?"

  "Same thing I do, when I fuss about you taking your vitamins and your blood pressure meds."

  "That's different."

  "No, it's not."

  "It is. You were in the hospital, Rig.” The man had nearly died.

  "I didn't have a choice, Jim. This wasn't something I could prevent."

  "But you can prevent it from happening again. You can be careful."

  Rig needed to learn how to fucking relax and take it easy.

  "If it happens again—and it can—I'll just go get the surgery again.” Uh-huh. Right. Twenty percent of stomach gone now. Then a little more and a little more and...

  And all of whatever savings they'd managed to build back up by then. He stopped walked and turned Rig to face him. “There's already risk with surgery. You need to make sure it doesn't get to that. Kid and I'll help."

  "Help what?”
Rig looked a little grey. “Hell, I've mortgaged our house, your business. Taken your savings."

  "That's not what I was talking about. I was talking about keeping you healthy by helping you keep to the diet, encouraging you to fucking stay home a couple days a week so you don't work yourself into exhaustion!” His Rig was the most stubborn man on the fucking planet.

  "I'm so fucking TIRED of this shit!” The beer bottle went flying, smashing against the rocks.

  "Well excuse the fuck me for giving a shit whether you live or fucking die."

  Rig spun around, eyes flashing. “Don't be a shithead, Goddamn it. I know you give a shit. I know. I'm fucking allowed to hate being sick! I'm fucking allowed to miss chili! Coffee! Having Goddamn motherfucking ENERGY!” He hadn't seen Rig this furious in years.

  "I'm not the fucking bad guy here!"

  Rig opened his mouth, staring a second, then just shut it with a snap, deflating. “No. No, you're not. Go on home, Blue. I'm going to take a walk, clean up my mess."

  "No, I will not. You pushed me away when you were sick, tried to pretend like everything was fucking normal, and I'm done pretending. You might fucking hate it, but you are not going back to work full time, and you are not staying out here freezing your ass off all by yourself."

  "Are you telling me what to do?” He couldn't tell whether Rig was pissed or fucking relieved.

  So he just went with the truth. “Yes. I am.” He stood there, feet slightly apart in the sand, bracing himself.

  "I.” Rig swallowed hard, cheeks flushed pink, just vibrating.

  "You aren't alone; you don't get to act like you are.” He grabbed Rig's shirt and tugged him close.

  Rig stepped closer, heart pounding against him. “I'm all fucking stressed out."

  "You've been thinking too fucking much.” He closed his lips over Rig's, taking that mouth like he always did.

  Rig fed him this hollow little noise, skinny body shaking hard. Stubborn fucking cowboy. He spread Rig's lips wider, tongue sweeping through Rig's mouth. The kiss took a second to catch fire, but when it did—Jesus Christ, yeah. Yeah.

  He grabbed Rig's ass with one hand, pulling Rig's long, lean body in close. Rig shook against him, cuddling in close, clinging to him. He wrapped his arms around Rig's waist and lifted him up off the sand, heading back toward the house.

 

‹ Prev