Progressing with Storm [Granite County 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove)

by Bellann Summer

  Storm’s hand was warm when it settled on Corey’s leg. Corey looked at Storm.

  “And if he calls now?” Storm’s face and voice were solemn.

  “I told him that I have all the adventure I need with the two men I love with all my heart,” Corey answered.

  “When did he call?”

  “This morning.” The light turned green, and Corey proceeded down the road.

  Amid laughter, smiles, and squeals, the last of the deliveries was finished, and Corey turned the van in the direction of the shop. Hopefully by the time they got back, Kris would be ready, and they would all take the Ducks Unlimited centerpieces to the huge banquet hall behind the V.F.W.

  Driving down the two-lane back road, Corey relaxed. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to live in the country and have to travel the narrow roads every day with no centerlines and thick trees on each side.

  Up ahead, a car was coming toward them, so he guided the van closer to the ditch. He wanted to make sure the vehicle had enough room to get by his oversized van.

  As the car came closer, it stayed in the center of the road.

  “Corey,” Storm warned.

  “I see it,” Corey said.

  Corey’s heart started pumping hard. The car was closer and showed no sign of moving over. A trickle of sweat slid down the side of his face. Corey tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  The car continued to come straight at Corey. Jerking the van’s steering wheel, Corey headed for the ditch. At the last minute, the car swerved away from him.

  The van bumped down into the shallow ditch pitching side to side. Corey kept steady pressure on the gas pedal and guided the van back up onto the road. He narrowly missed a large metal culvert.

  With metal on metal screeching through the cab, as shocks protested, the van lurched back onto the asphalt road.

  Corey was too shaken up to talk and kept driving until they reached the edge of the city and he could pull into a gas station parking lot. He turned the vehicle off and threw himself into Storm’s waiting arms.

  “You were magnificent,” Storm said against his hair.

  “Defensive driving lessons.” Corey looked up at Storm. “Did you see what I saw?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sitting up, Storm pulled back the bed covers and slid his legs off the bed. Silent steps carried him to the padded chair next to the window. Once seated, he stared out at the backyard bathed in silver moonlight. Somewhere a firebug was planning his next move.

  Earlier he’d sat in the sheriff’s office with a shaking Corey and recounted the incident of almost being hit head-on by a dark blue sedan. The shock came when the sheriff revealed tapes showing the person they suspected of starting the fires. He or she was wearing a black cap with a white ghoul face made popular by a series of horror movies. Some of the tapes contained a partner wearing all black, including a ski mask.

  That was the figure he and Corey had seen driving the sedan that ran them off the road. Things were getting beyond dangerous. The sheriff had men working around the clock trying to find the person responsible.

  Storm glanced at the bed where his two lovers were curled up. His shift at the firehouse started in the morning. He had a bad feeling about leaving them.

  Troubled, Storm let his attention drift back to the window and the darkness beyond. A whisper of movement had him shifting his head to watch Kris’s pale, slim form approach him.

  Without a word, Kris sank to his knees between Storm’s legs. Cool hands glided up his thighs until they reached his cock where they encircled the now burning skin. “I like my balls and cock explored, sugar. Find my pleasure spots.” His whisper sounded loud in the darkened room.

  The glow of the moon highlighted the dark head at his groin. A warm, wet tongue touched the tip of his cockhead and Storm’s gut tightened. His semi-hard appendage responded by filling until it stood tall and proud.

  The arm of the chair creaked in protest under his squeezing hand. The attack on Storm’s senses of touch and sight almost blew his mind as he watched a glistening wet trail spread from Kris’s tongue lapping at and exploring the thick vein of his cock.

  Kris’s warm, knowledgeable mouth drew in the weeping head of his cock and sucked hard. Storm’s balls drew up tight. Disappointment, relief, and want clashed when Kris released his cock.

  Kris’s dark head shifted down, and Storm spread his legs wider. A shiver of anticipation trailed up Storm’s spine. The wetness of Kris’s mouth engulfed Storm’s balls. His breath came out in pants, and his toes curled as Kris’s talented mouth mastered him.

  The man took his time exploring and claiming every inch of skin he could find and goose bumps broke out across Storm’s skin.

  Storm shifted his hips gently wanting to ride that tongue. Kris’s nimble fingers stroked his cock while his tantalizing tongue licked his ball sac. Storm’s excitement skyrocketed until his cock wanted more of that warm mouth. “Suck me,” he ordered.

  Kris refused to be hurried as he retraced his path to the tip of Storm’s cock, creating another sensation as the air cooled the wetness left behind. Fingers wrapped around the base of Storm’s cock and tipped it until Kris’s lips slid over the head.

  A low growl escaped Storm. The steady rhythm Kris set up had Storm’s hips bucking up and his cock straining to get deeper. His grip tightened on the arms of the chair, and it creaked again. And then Kris swallowed.

  “Shit,” Storm bit out.

  Storm’s body froze and pleasure-pain grabbed a hold of his entire being. Cum spewed from his cock incited by Kris’s repeated swallowing. The moment lengthened until Storm’s muscles started cramping.

  Slowly the gushes of cum eased. When he finished, Kris gently used his talented tongue to clean Storm. Storm didn’t move, not wanting to miss one second of pleasure Kris’s actions were giving him.

  Storm collapsed back into the chair and pulled Kris up. Kris’s bare, smooth skin slid against Storm’s as he cuddled his sweet lover close. Reaching down, Storm encircled Kris’s straining prick with his fingers.

  Pre-cum dribbling from the tip slicked up the way for Storm’s firm strokes. He kissed Kris’s temple and murmured, “Come.”

  “Storm,” Kris breathed out before he arched back and cum flowed over Storm’s hand. Nails dug into Storm’s chest as Kris continued to shake and shiver his way through his orgasm.

  Kris’s body melted into Storm. Holding his hand up to Kris’s lips, Storm whispered, “Lick it clean, sugar.”

  Storm tried to control his unruly cock when Kris’s sweet tongue lapped up every drop of cum coating his hand. After it was clean, Kris continued to explore the sensitive creases between Storm’s fingers.

  “Enough. Kiss me,” Storm said.

  Wet lips met Storm’s. Tongues collided and wrapped around each other. Long minutes passed, and slowly the kiss eased until their lips separated.

  Kris stood, his body a graceful motion picture in the moonlight. He held out his hand and Storm took it and let Kris lead him back to bed.

  * * * *

  Storm held on to the back of the big rig as it bumped over the pothole-littered street. They might be only three blocks off of the main street, but this part of town had seen better days. Thick black smoke billowed into the air at the end of the block. Finally, the rig pulled up in front of a square Colonial two-story house. Flames were eating their way through one side of the wall.

  Blaring horns and sirens drowned out the shouts. Hand signals had Storm donning the face shield, oxygen mask, and other protective gear.

  The captain’s voice crackled through a speaker in the protective shield. “We have a report that someone called 911 and said they’re trapped in the basement.”

  Storm nodded and gestured his acknowledgement before following two of his coworkers toward the house. A man never got used to the intense heat or smell of a house fire. It was nothing like a pleasant campfire where people sat around and enjoyed the flames. The toxic pollutants of c
hemicals and plastics that filled modern homes burned hotter and poisoned the air so fast record amounts of firefighters never made it out the buildings alive.

  They reached the outside entrance to the basement, where a firefighter was using a metal cutter to pop the padlock off the doors. They pulled the wide wooden doors until they swung open and lay flat on the ground.

  Already sweating under the weight of the protective coat and pants, Storm descended the stairs into the dark, smoke-filled basement. Hitting a switch on his helmet lit up the area in front of him.

  On the far wall, sparks started raining down from the first floor. Scanning the room, Storm’s gaze was drawn to a large hot water heater taking up one corner. The hair on the back of his neck stood up when he saw it ran on liquid propane. They had to find the victim and get out of the basement before that heater blew them all to kingdom come.

  Storm swiftly turned left through a doorway and stepped into a room that looked as if it was set up as an exercise gym. Storm never stopped moving as he turned his head and swept the spotlight over the room, making sure the light reached every corner.

  The light caught a pale hand lying on a pile of blankets. Storm struggled through the equipment and weights to get to the unconscious male teenager. The house shuddered, and a roar filled the air. In his ear, he heard, “Get out, get out, get out.”

  Storm picked up the teen and ran.

  Once Storm managed to fight his way through the thick smoke and burst out of the house, he was greeted by a pair of EMS techs. He laid the victim on the waiting gurney and stepped out of the way. His heart sank when he saw the victim was Jerry Norway. He took off his mask and was about to resume his duties when Jerry opened his eyes and saw Storm. The kid went crazy.

  Storm rushed over, and Jerry grabbed the front of his coat. “It’s George.”

  “What are you talking about?” Storm demanded.

  “George is the one starting the fires. He’s in love with Mr. Winters. He called the shop and arranged a plant to be delivered here. He planned to kill Mr. Casey. When I told him he was crazy and I was going to call the cops, he hit me and locked me in the basement. He kept screaming that if I wouldn’t help him then I was the one going to die in the fire. He said he could take care of Mr. Casey later. The last thing he yelled before he left was that he was going to go get Mr. Winters and take him away where they could live together forever.” Jerry pulled Storm closer. “He has a gun and he can’t wait to use it on someone.”

  Storm was horrified. The EMS techs pushed past him and began attending to Jerry. Storm looked around, searching for the captain, only to find him standing behind him.

  “I heard everything,” the captain said. “The police have Corey stopped at the end of the street. He told them he had a delivery here. Give me a second.”

  The captain turned away and ducked his head before pressing a microphone device near his shoulder. After a few moments, he turned back. “Stow your gear in the rig. Corey is waiting for you. I’ve notified the police of the events.”

  Storm tore off his gear and threw it at the rig. He never stopped running until he was jumping into the passenger door of the flower van.

  “Get to the shop. Kris is in danger,” he yelled.

  Corey never hesitated and shoved the van into gear. They maneuvered around cars and over a few yards until Corey had them racing down Main Street.

  “What’s going on?” Corey asked. They were almost at the shop.

  “George is the firebug and thinks he’s in love with Kris. He has a gun and plans on kidnapping him.”

  That was all Storm managed to get out before the shop came into view. His heart jumped in his chest when he saw the dark blue sedan that had run them off the road sitting in front of the store. Corey slowed the van down and sat idling across the street from the shop. Sirens were becoming louder, and Storm breathed a little easier with the police almost here.

  Through the window, Storm saw George grab Kris by the hair and put a gun to his head.

  Storm’s body jerked back against the van’s seat when Corey put it into gear and slammed his foot on the gas. The engine roared, and beneath his feet, the floor of the van vibrated. All Storm could do was hold on tight when Corey cranked the van to the left and veered straight at the picture window.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shocked, Kris picked up the clear plastic bottle thinking a drink of water might calm him down. In the background, the police scanner chattered away like white noise.

  Three blocks away, a house was on fire. Kris and Heidi had listened to the radio as firefighters and police voices talked back and forth nonstop. Both of them were horrified to learn there was someone trapped in the burning house. When they said the victim was Heidi’s son Jerry, Heidi had raced out the door as fast as she could.

  With shaking fingers, Kris raised the water bottle and took a long drink. The third swallow went down wrong. Kris choked, sputtered, and coughed until he thought his lungs were going to land on the floor in front of him.

  Blindly, Kris fumbled around under the counter for the tissue box. His hands encountered the soft paper, and he pulled out a few. Kris blew his dripping nose and wiped his weeping eyes, desperate to gain back some control. Kris calmed his racing heart by taking a few deep breaths before coughing a few more times to clear his throat.

  “Hello, Mr. Winters.”

  Kris’s head whipped around. He couldn’t scream in terror. He couldn’t move. Icy horror at the sight before him froze him in place.

  George stood a few feet away. The teen wore a smoke-smudged, ripped-to-shreds black cape. George’s blistered shoulders shown through large holes in the material. Smaller holes with charred edges littered the front. On the back of George’s neck, a hood lay bunched up at a weird angle because of a stiff white ghoul mask stamped on it. The whites of George’s blue eyes were completely exposed, making Kris think of a trapped wild animal. Streaks of sweat created greasy paths through George’s soot-covered face.

  The teen lifted his hand. Kris couldn’t take his eyes off the shreds of pale, shriveled skin hanging from the beet-red flesh. George’s nails were burnt black.

  Something was wrong. Kris should be calling 911 and administering first aid. But it was the insane look in George’s eyes that stopped him. Kris had seen that look in Oliver’s eyes when the maniac had held him down and started cutting him.

  “George, you’re hurt. I need to call someone to help you,” Kris said in a calm voice.

  “I confronted him and told him to leave you alone,” George said.

  “Who did you confront?”

  “Oliver.” George’s body swayed forward. Kris smelled burnt flesh. “I watched you bring him home day after day. I saw you two together from Jerry’s bedroom window. I know what he did to you. The day he cut you up was my failure. I should have stopped him instead of being in school. I’m glad he’s dead.”

  “George, he could have easily killed you.” Kris didn’t know what to do. George was lucky he wasn’t buried somewhere in little pieces. And yet Kris’s instincts were screaming the teen was dangerous.

  “He told me that I didn’t stand a chance unless I got rid of everyone else around you. So I decided nobody would know what happened if I burned them all up.” George took a step forward and almost fell to the floor. At the last minute, he righted himself. “I convinced Jerry that lighting fires was fun. But he wanted to stop and threatened to tell. I had to get rid of him.”

  “We have to call for help. It’s the right thing to do.” Kris tried to appeal to George’s sense of morality. By the look on the kid’s face, he had failed.

  Pain radiated from his head when George seized his hair. With a jerk, Kris’s neck was forced to the side, putting him off balance. Cold metal pressed into Kris’s temple.

  Kris struggled to push George’s arm away. Gun or no gun, he wasn’t going down this time without a fight. He couldn’t figure out where George was getting the strength or the stamina with the extent of his i
njuries. The cruel hand in his hair brought tears of pain to his eyes.

  “We have to go. I have a car. We can be together,” George said.

  “Fuck, George.” Kris continued to fight but wasn’t getting anywhere near free. “Don’t you hurt?”

  “My mom has great pills. I take them all the time. I don’t feel anything,” George said. “We have to go.”

  Kris heard the roar of an engine. The front glass window shattered, and wood exploded all around them as his delivery truck burst into the shop. Agony tore through him as George threw them both backward away from the advancing truck.

  Kris hit the floor hard, knocking his breath out of his body. r. Beside him, he heard the unmistakable pistol explosion of a major bone breaking. Kris tried to figure out why there wasn’t any pain and he wasn’t screaming in agony. Kris received his answer when he turned his head and met George’s empty stare. Kris shuddered at the twisted, unnatural position of George’s neck.

  “Kris,” Corey’s and Storm’s voices shouted above the roaring in his ears.

  Big, muscled arms lifted Kris. Storm and Corey surrounded him with the safety of their bodies and the love in their hearts. His men continued to whisper words of love and comfort until the ambulance came. They both disregarded the EMS techs and squeezed into the emergency vehicle with Kris.

  This time Kris managed to get away with only bumps and bruises. The sheriff showed up to take Kris’s account of what had happened in the shop. Kris had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that George was not only behind all the fires but was also obsessed with him. Even harder was thinking George was dead.

  They searched George’s bedroom and found hundreds of pictures of Kris at home and work. There was a notepad filled with love letters and poems George had written to Kris but never sent.

  Jerry’s involvement in the fires hurt most of all. Kris knew Heidi was going to be heartbroken.

  Storm’s ex-mercenary buddies went and boarded up the shop for them. Kris thought that was so nice he decided when he felt better and things had calmed down he was going to put on a big barbecue and invite them all.