"Never have before," he admitted.
"Then you're a natural." Slayde rested against him, leaning hard.
"Huh." Drake had to admit, though, that he liked it. Liked enjoying the sated feeling and sharing it with his lover.
The word rang through his head. Fuck. A lover. Not a lay. Not a one-night stand. Not a quickie, but a bona fide lover. He wasn't sure that was going to work for him, long-term. Hell, he wasn't sure that the term long-term worked for him with anything. It made the next months until Mindy got home seem far more interesting and fun, though.
And he had nothing but time to figure out what the hell to do. He'd take it.
Chapter Eight
"He's gay." Slayde sat on the couch, the kids sleeping, Drake at the store, Joey and Trevor on Skype.
Joey laughed. "I knew it!" Then Joey leaned in. "The six million dollar question is -- how do you know?"
"I. We sorta did it. A lot. For like the last month."
He grinned, making sure no one could hear. "He's amazing, honey. Magical."
"Oh, my God! Travis! Slayde's been fucking the hot mean leather daddy cop!"
"I'm sitting right here, I heard." It was Travis' turn to lean in. "The question is why it took you a month to tell us."
"I just… He's not out and he's always here and…" He shrugged. "We get about an hour alone together a day if the kids are all healthy. We're busy."
Travis raised an eyebrow. "I bet you're busy."
Joey giggled at that.
"Stop it, butthead." He knew his cheeks were red, so he shifted out of range of the webcam.
"So, when do we get to meet him and can you make sure he's wearing the leather when we do?"
"Stop it."
Joey grinned. "You canceled our last date due to 'fire ants'. Saturday work for you? You can cook. We'll bring dessert."
Oh, man. "There really were fire ants."
"We'll be there at five, so I can see the kids and hand out presents." Joey looked unbearably excited. "And I'll trim your hair, because damn, honey."
Slayde rolled his eyes, but still his hands went to his head. Drake had held it just last night. Fisted a hand in his hair and fucked his mouth.
"It's not that long."
"You're shaggy."
"I am not shaggy!"
"No, you're more Scooby Doo." That was Drake's voice, the man standing in the hallway, weighed down by a bunch of recyclable grocery bags, grinning at him.
"Turd." He grinned over his shoulder. "The boys want to come have supper Saturday."
"Who are 'the boys'?" Drake put down the grocery bags and started in toward him.
"Oh, is that the mean leather daddy cop?" asked Joey. "Make him come closer."
Drake froze. "What?"
Fuck. "He's just being a jackass. Ignore him." He shut his laptop. "Joey's a butthead. You remember I told you about Joey and Travis, my best friends? They own a salon in Austin?"
"Uh-huh…"
"They want to stop over Saturday, see the kids and have supper."
"Sure. Then they can tell me what the hell they were talking about -- mean leather daddy cop?"
"Oh, that's just a joke. When you first came in, you were a little rumbly." And the whole leather daddy thing, well, they just wouldn't discuss that. Also, he was so fucking emailing Joey about not being a prick.
"Rumbly? I was rumbly? You were a sanctimonious prick!"
Oh. Okay. "You need help with the groceries, man?"
Drake blinked at him. "Okay. Sure"
"Good deal." He wasn't going to fight. Hell, he needed to think about the whole sanctimonious thing. Had he been? Had he been bitchy? He'd been shocked, sure. Unnerved, absolutely.
"So, your friends are coming on the weekend?" Drake started unloading the bags, letting him put the stuff away.
"Yeah. They were supposed to come the weekend that Jenny got the fire ant bites." The weekend they'd become lovers.
"Where are they going to stay?"
"They usually drive home or get a hotel room. If they drink too much, they can crash on the sofas."
"Okay. I guess I'll have to use Mindy's room, huh?"
"You don't have to." They'd been sharing a room for weeks.
"Maybe."
"Okay."
He started putting stuff away, keeping his head down as he moved from the table to the cupboards
Drake stepped in his way, hands on his hips. "What?"
"What what?"
"You have that look."
"What look?" He didn't have looks.
Drake snorted. "The one where I end up being the bad guy even though I have no idea what I've done."
"You're being a butt. You're the grumpy one." You said I was sanctimonious.
"I thought I was rumbly?"
"A little." He couldn't help but smile. "It's hot, though."
Drake's stiffness relaxed slightly "It is?"
"Uh-huh." Sort of wildly, a little bit.
"Huh." Drake growled at him.
He blushed and went to put the canned goods up.
Drake chuckled. "I might have to do it a lot more now that I know it makes you blush."
"Blush? Me?"
Drake rumbled at him again.
"Stop it, butthead." He put the sodas in the bottom of the pantry.
"It's a good look on you." Drake looked like that cat that got the canary.
"In the pantry?" He could flirt, too.
Drake chuckled. "Yeah, baby. In the pantry."
"Dork." He stood up, leaned back against the pantry door, ready to tease. "Are you cooking supper?"
"Sure. You want Chinese or pizza?"
He wrinkled his nose. "I'm tired of pizza, man."
"I'm not much of a cook, man. Especially with that gluten-free stuff."
"Yeah. You…do you grill?" It was something he totally sucked at.
"Fuck, yeah. I can burn meat."
"Steaks? Burgers? The kids would love burgers and hot dogs."
"I can do that." Drake moved in. "How long before they're up from their nap?"
"Nowhere near long enough. Kiss me hello."
Drake's hands cupped his cheeks, tilted his face, then the man brought their mouths together, lips hot, firm, and just what he wanted. For someone that wasn't big on kissing, Drake was damned good at it. The hands on his cheeks pushed back into his hair, cupping his head. Slayde leaned back, opened up, wanting more. Drake followed, stepping closer and deepening the kiss.
God, he was in trouble with this man. Deep trouble.
"Unca Drake, you're kissing Slayde!" Christian stared at them.
Drake froze and jerked away. "Oh fu--" Drake slammed his hand over his mouth, stopping the expletive.
"He was. Would you like a snack?"
Christian shook his head. "Can I watch SpongeBob?"
"Sure. I'll get it turned on for you." Calm. Cool. Collected. No one was doing anything wrong. Everything was okay.
"I'll finish putting away the groceries." Drake's voice sounded a bit strangled, but he moved, grabbing a can and shoving it in the pantry.
"Okay." He got Christian set up, the little boy settling on the sofa.
The show took up Christian's attention and there weren't any questions about why Drake had been kissing him. Slayde went back toward the kitchen, but Jenny started crying, and he ended back upstairs to change her. When he went back downstairs with her, Drake was nowhere to be seen.
He did find a note on the counter when he got out Jenny's sippy cup.
"Gone to get propane for the grill."
Huh.
Slayde grabbed his phone, dialed Joey. "You are so fucking fired."
"Hello to you, too!"
"I can't believe you two. Jesus, are you trying to get me in trouble?" He filled Jenny's sippy cup.
"You're the one fucking the sexy man. And he is sexy. God, Slayde, a stud."
"Still, he's not out. Don't be a jackass, okay? I like him." Like a lot. More than that, Slayde had to live with h
im.
"Oh, God, Slayde…you're falling for him."
"Shut up."
"You are!" Joey crowed at him, but his next words were sober. "Him not being out is trouble, honey."
"It's not like he's staying here, Joey. He's a cop. He lives in California. He's a passing for straight cop who's just here for his sister." There wasn't a long-term here, no matter how stupid he was about the guy.
"He's not leaving anytime soon, though, is he? And the more you're involved with him, the more your heart is going to hurt when this is over."
"Just stop. The kids are up. I'll see you two Saturday?"
"You will. You need us." Joey blew him noisy kisses. "Be careful, honey."
"I'm fine. I'll talk to you this weekend." He hung up, then dropped Jenny off with her brother so he could go get Maggie.
Maggie blinked at him, her hair mussed from sleeping. "Want Unca Dake."
"He went to the store. He'll be right back."
"'kay." She leaned into him, letting him pick her up and carry her downstairs. "Juice?"
"Yes, love. Juice."
It was all so normal; no reason for Drake to run off, to startle and swear. It sucked, hiding who you were. Who you loved.
He got the kids settled together in front of the TV. They were all quiet and dozy, the hot day keeping all of them from being too rambunctious despite their naps. One day, it would be fall. Right? Right.
He'd dozed off when the front door opening and closing woke him, Christian jumping up and calling out, "Unca Drake! Where'd you go?"
"Unca Drake!" Maggie barreled off the couch. Drake had certainly made inroads there, Maggie having moved him to the top of her favorite adults list.
Drake grinned and picked her up. "How's my girl?"
Maggie started yammering, babbling happily at Drake, patting him. Drake chuckled, coming in to sit down on the big chair next to the couch, nodding at her as if he could understand every word she said. Christian sat close and Jenny came to Slayde, settling in his lap. It felt great, like they were a family.
He looked over, smiled at Drake. God, he was going to have to be careful. Drake smiled back.
Oh yeah, very careful. Because Joey was right. He was falling for Drake. Hard.
***
Drake grilled burgers and hot dogs, eating two burgers and three hot dogs all on his own. He was not thinking. He was not thinking about kissing Slayde. He was not thinking about having two strangers in the house on the weekend. He was not thinking about having to go back to Mindy's bedroom until they'd gone. He was definitely not thinking about Christian having caught him and Slayde in a clinch.
Nope. Not thinking about any of it.
After supper there was Dora and bedtime stories, teeth brushing and lots of tucking in. Slayde was going to come down any minute now and the man was probably going to want to talk about the things Drake was definitely not thinking about. Drake figured his best plan of action was jumping the man's bones as soon as he came downstairs. It wasn't like they needed to order grown-up food tonight.
"Hey. Everyone's sleeping." Slayde headed down, rubbing his neck.
"Good." He grabbed Slayde's shirt in his hands and tugged, pulling him up for a kiss. No talking.
Those sweet lips opened right up, parted for him. Groaning, he pushed Slayde up against the hallway wall, pressing against the lean body. They had hours now. Hours where this body could keep him from thinking.
He pushed a hand between Slayde and the wall, grabbing one ass cheek that fit perfectly in his hand. God, sweet motherfucking man. He wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees and suck Slayde's cock. Or to push Slayde to his knees and have the man suck him…
Not here, though. They couldn't do that without a lock on the door, this afternoon had taught them that. Moaning, he shook his head. No thinking. He broke the kiss and grabbed Slayde's hand, dragging the man up the stairs.
"Drake?" Slayde followed, stumbling a little.
"Bedroom," he growled softly, trying to be quiet so they wouldn't wake anyone.
"Horndog."
He let go of Slayde's hand and grabbed the man's hard-on through his shorts. "Takes one to know one."
Fuck, he loved that wide, goofy grin. Loved. Whoa. Jesus, what was wrong with him?
He grabbed Slayde's hand again and dragged the man into Slayde's room, closing and locking the door behind him. Locked doors were good.
"You're in a mood. I need to have you grill more often!"
"I'll do it every night if I get this after." He pushed Slayde back up against the door, rubbing against the man again as he leaned in to devour that mouth again.
"Uh-huh…" Slayde sucked on his tongue, hands on his waist.
"Fucking amazing mouth." He slid his hands through Slayde's shaggy hair and tilted his head slightly.
He pushed one leg between Slayde's, rubbing them together. Groaning, he began humping hard, the kisses growing teeth, the heat flaring between them. He wanted nothing but his body, but his cock to be on his mind. He shoved at Slayde's T-shirt one handed, trying to get to skin.
Slayde grunted into his lips, and the belly rippling. His fingers dragged over the fine abs, his nails lightly scoring Slayde's skin on the third or fourth pass.
"Fuck. Fuck, Drake. You make me stupid."
He loved that. "Make me need." Like nothing ever.
"Oh, fuck." Slayde shook for him, hips rolling against him.
He grabbed hold of Slayde's prick, stroking it roughly.
Slayde arched, eyes wide. "Gonna."
"Oh, yeah. Go for it." It made him feel good, knowing Slayde was as hot for it as he was.
"Drake." Heat spread over his hand, Slayde's eyes huge.
He grinned and gave Slayde a hard kiss, his hand still dragging over Slayde's flesh, making the man shiver hard. "I did that."
"Uh-huh. Uh-huh."
Yeah, he was a stud, rocking Slayde's world.
"I. We. Whoa."
Incoherency. That worked.
He took Slayde's mouth again, pushing Slayde's open shorts off the lean hips. Lean, needy naked man. Perfect.
He broke off the kiss in favor of wrapping his lips around Slayde's right nipple, his hips sawing happily at the air, he was so fucking turned on.
"Want to suck you, lover."
Lover. Jesus fuck. He pushed the word away, concentrating on what had come first.
"Yes." He ripped open his own shorts, tugging them, trying to get his underwear past his hard cock.
"Needy man." Slayde knelt for him, mouth right there by his cock.
"Yes." Of course he was the only one needy because he'd already gotten Slayde off. He shifted, rubbing his prick against Slayde's lips.
Slayde licked playfully, catching the drops slipping off his slit. He put his hands on the door behind Slayde, his legs spreading a little as he groaned. Fuck, he loved seeing Slayde on his knees, sucking cock. No. He loved seeing Slayde on his knees, sucking his cock.
Grunting, grinning, he began to rock, watching as his prick moved deeper, pulled out again, shiny with Slayde's spit. So fucking fine. He pushed in again, spreading Slayde's lips. His balls were up tight against his body, his orgasm already too damn close. Slayde made him hot like no other.
Slayde's hands ran up and down his body, caressing him, petting him. He curled his fingers against the wall, hips moving, pushing his cock into Slayde's mouth over and over. A wet dream. The best fantasy ever. Only it wasn't a fucking dream. Slayde was really sucking his cock like it was the best popsicle in the world. Groaning, he moved harder, so close now.
Slayde's fingers slid behind his balls, stroked his hole. He turned his head, biting his arm to keep from shouting out as his hips snapped and he came, pouring down Slayde's throat. He was still riding Slayde's gentle touch went he came down.
"Fuck. Your mouth…" He was smitten.
Slayde leaned back, kissed the tip of his cock. "Happy eight-thirty."
He chuckled and nodded. "I've never loved a time more.
"
"We have three hours before the night's done, too."
"Yeah? I don't seem to remember you turning in to a pumpkin at eleven-thirty." Of course, he was pretty sure they were usually sleeping the sleep of the well-fucked most nights by then.
Slayde chuckled, stood up. "Do you…play cards?"
He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Sure." He wasn't playing Crazy Eights with Slayde, though.
"Well, it's early. I'm not sleepy and there's nothing on TV."
"If you say Go Fish, I'm going out."
"I was thinking cribbage, actually."
He grinned, memories flooding him. "Minds and I played that all the fucking time."
"She taught me how. I love to play."
"She's a vicious player -- I learned to take no prisoners from her. What are we going to play for?"
Slayde's grin was slow and evil. "Blow jobs?"
"Oh, now the game just got more interesting." He rubbed his hands together. He was fucking good at cribbage.
"Look at you…" Slayde chuckled, shook his head. "You want to play up here or downstairs?"
"Blow jobs to be paid immediately upon winning -- better be up here." He wasn't risking getting walked in on.
"I'll go grab the board. You want anything from downstairs?"
"Drinks and munchies? I could go get that if you want."
"Sure." Slayde leaned over, gave him a quick, almost chaste kiss.
"Where do you hide the good snacks?" He followed Slayde's ass down the hall and back downstairs. He knew he'd bought plenty of chips that they hadn't eaten yet.
"In the laundry room."
"Ah, good one." The kids didn't really go in there unless it was to follow Slayde while he did the washing.
Drake headed downstairs and found pork rinds and Cheetos, grabbing both and a six-pack of Coke before going to the kitchen for glasses and ice. He went back upstairs, detouring via his own room for contraband he had stashed there -- Twinkies and Slim Jims. Loaded down, he knocked on Slayde's door with his foot.
"Coming." Slayde had the TV on, the noise soft, the bed arranged with a couple of trays, one with the cards on it.
Look at that, it was like a date. Or a stakeout. He chortled as he looked at what he'd brought. Definitely a stakeout.
"Share the joke?"
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