Midwinter Night's Dream (9 page)

Standing there in stocking feet, Joe faced Errol, who was biting his lip, uncertainty painted on his features. It would have been better if they had been indoors, could have stripped and gotten carried away on a wave of passion right after that blistering-hot kiss. As it was, coming indoors let a bit of common sense back in.

Let in memories that Joe had carefully tucked away, memories of another blond-haired, blue-eyed man with whom Joe had made love in this place. It seemed like both a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time.

Joe opened his arms, and Errol came to him, easily, naturally, and Joe cradled him against his chest. Errol smelled of pine and snow. Joe whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Errol looked up. His eyes were intense, a darker blue. He licked his lips and wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist.

To Joe’s surprise, Errol took the initiative and took Joe’s mouth in a hungry kiss, hard and masculine. Encouraging, Joe parted his lips, and Errol’s hot tongue pressed in, exploring, turning him on. He’d abandoned kissing for the past two years, not wanting the intimacy. Errol made it a pleasure with the sweet pressure, the soft lips. Joe savored the taste, deepening the kiss until they had to break for air. Blood pounded through him in an exhilarating rhythm.

In silent accord, they unbuttoned their shirts and pulled them off. Glancing at Errol’s chest, Joe savored the lean musculature. Having seen all of Errol previously, there weren’t any surprises, but he was sexy as hell. Joe coasted his palms along Errol’s sides, caressing him. The warmth was wonderful; Errol’s skin was alabaster smooth and pale and hairless. Perfect. It was so much better to be skin to skin, the heat and softness comfortable and somehow not at all awkward. Joe found Errol’s mouth and kissed him hard.

Errol stroked him, hands warm as they explored Joe’s back, and then those seeking fingers ran along Joe’s shoulders, down his arms, finally coming up to lightly pinch his nipples.
Ah, Christ
. Blood thundered in Joe’s head, and inside his jeans, he hardened further. He ached to feel Errol’s hips pressed to his, to test Errol’s desire. Joe backed Errol against the wall, watching that blue gaze darken and smolder. He pushed his knee between Errol’s. Beneath the constraining denim, Errol was hard too, his dick pushing on Joe’s hip.

God, Joe wanted this—wanted him. Their cocks slid together through the denim, and the kiss grew more urgent, almost aggressive with the nip of teeth and press of tongue. Errol whimpered and thrust his hips forward.

Slow it down, Blake. Not a get off and get out here. Take your time
. Joe closed his eyes and softened the attack, letting up until their lips hardly touched, teasing. Errol smiled against Joe’s mouth. Joe reached for the buttons on Errol’s Levi’s and popped them free, and Errol did the same, unfastening Joe’s pants.

They were really going to do this.

Joe slid his hands down the back of Errol’s jeans, savoring the smooth roundness of his ass, the skin cool from the snow. Pulling Errol in, Joe ground their hips together. Errol murmured his approval. It felt so good to touch Errol like this—to take the time to learn what turned him on. For the past two years, Joe hadn’t desired anything more than a quick release. Now he craved something real, an encounter with someone he could come together with in the light of day.

Joe moved his fingers to the front, slid inside Errol’s soft cotton briefs, and pulled them down. Errol’s dick sprang forward, hot, damp, and hard. Joe savored the low moan as he gently squeezed Errol’s cock and tested the weight of his balls.

“Jesus, Joe.” Errol shivered and pulled him down for a kiss.

Joe closed his eyes. Yes. This was what he needed. What he’d been missing. The taste of a man’s mouth, the desire that went deeper than lust, the connection with another human being more intimate than physical union. He broke the kiss and forced his eyes open, wanting to see everything. Every bit of excitement and anticipation, every response to his touch.

Errol was beautiful. His head was thrown back, exposing his neck, and his gaze burned hot. As Joe ran his lips over the stubble on Errol’s jaw and throat, the light abrasion was heaven, and Errol’s moan vibrated under Joe’s mouth, low and sexy.

With the lightest touch, Errol’s fingers freed Joe from his briefs and then stroked him once, down-up. Slowly Errol moved his hips side to side, brushing their hard-ons together. So delicate, but the touch lit Joe’s nerve endings like a Christmas tree.

God, I want you
. Joe slid one hand into Errol’s hair and the other down to the small of his back and pulled him close. In the crowded space, their dicks warred for position, hard and hot. Errol bit his lip, smiled, and the last of the protective wall around Joe’s heart disintegrated, uncovering the hole left two years ago.
Bryce…

Joe’s eyes stung. He’d never felt so vulnerable, so open to hurt, but the hollowness inside of him needed to be filled. Sex alone wouldn’t do it, but this wasn’t just sex, was it?

More. He needed more. More contact, more friction. More Errol. Joe licked and kissed his way down Errol’s throat, across his collarbone, and bit lightly on his shoulder, tasting salt and skin. So…real. The fresh smell of soap and shampoo, the scent of arousal, the little moans and grunts as they worked against each other. It was the most honest encounter Joe had had in years.

He could feel Errol’s need shuddering through his taut body, responding to the arousal in his own. They rocked against each other, Joe’s heart banging away, their cocks rubbing, progressing to vigorous thrusting and grinding. A frisson of pleasure rolled down Joe’s spine and spread through nerve endings, spiraling around his balls and cock. He reached between them and wrapped his hand around their shafts, hot and slippery with precum, and pumped them together. Sweet, sweet friction, building pleasure, stroke by stroke.

“God.” Errol made a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh, picked up the rhythm, and thrust into Joe’s fist. Errol trembled as he clutched Joe’s shoulders, and somehow that made Joe tremble too.

“You…are…beautiful,” Joe murmured. Tension wound higher with every stroke, and his balls grew heavy. He gasped, trying to rein himself in.
Not yet. Not yet
. Slowing the slide helped him get control, but the electricity still crackled just below the surface.

Errol whimpered and shoved his dick into the ring of Joe’s fist, breath cool on Joe’s neck. “Don’t stop. Please.”

The plea went straight to Joe’s cock; he was back on the edge, body screaming for release. A sharp pinch stung below Joe’s ear and startled him. He shivered. A love bite, and right where it always sent impulses down his spine. Errol gave a breathy chuckle, and his warm tongue soothed the spot, soft and wet. Joe tightened his grip and stroked them faster; the tension cranked up, winding higher, surging up his spine in hot waves.

With a yell, Errol threw his head back and came, hot and slippery pulses spilling between them. Joe’s release teetered on the edge, and he groaned in frustration, pumping once, twice. Tingling spread from the back of his head down his spine and into his balls, sparkling along nerve endings until he erupted in liquid heat. The room disappeared, his knees weakened, and he leaned into Errol as an aftershock rippled through him.

“Lord almighty,” Joe whispered. He hadn’t come that hard in years.

Errol panted against his ear, breath hot and moist, leaning against the wall and holding them both up. Errol trembled and murmured, “That was…intense.”

That was not a bad description, actually. “Yeah. Nap?”

“Nap.”

“And…less clothes?”

In Joe’s arms, Errol stilled.

Shit. Way to push it, Blake.

Errol pulled back and met his gaze. “Yeah.”

LESS CLOTHES. YIKES
. Errol swallowed. “Um, I’m going to make a quick pit stop.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

Errol closed the door and stared at himself in the mirror. He had two spots of high color on his cheeks, and his eyes practically glowed. Something was taking root between him and Joe, tender and new and exhilarating. And all because of car trouble and a blizzard.

Watch out, or you’re going to get hurt.

At present it seemed worth the risk. Why was he hiding? He had a lover waiting for him, probably on the bed and possibly naked. Errol opened the door. Joe had shed his briefs, jeans, and socks and reclined on the bed.

The glimpse Errol had gotten of Joe by firelight that first time had only been the beginning. The frontal view of the man on the bed blew him away. It was so easy to see why Escalade had grabbed Joe after seeing him in turn-out gear and soot on the charity calendar.

The former fireman was all muscle, the kind forged in the gym with iron, hammering out reps to the point of fatigue. Joe’s broad shoulders gave way to well-developed pecs, defined abs, and a cock the likes of which Errol had only dreamed about. The bulge in Joe’s Escalade briefs had looked substantial, but add arousal, and wow. Errol was no size queen, but this would be…filling. Blood pulsed through his pelvis, hot and heavy, filling his flaccid cock. Arousal shimmied down his spine. Holding Joe’s gaze, Errol pulled off his socks, then stripped his Levi’s off. He stuck his thumbs in the waist of his briefs.

“Wait,” Joe said, voice low and rough. “Let me do that. Come up here.”

Errol’s mouth went dry as he crawled onto the bed. Joe watched his approach with dark eyes, hands at his sides, legs slightly apart and revealing heavy balls. He was so…proportionate.

“C’mere.” Joe opened his arms, and Errol rolled into that muscular embrace, resting his head on Joe’s shoulder. God, he loved cuddling: the closeness, the warmth. Carson had hated it—straight to the shower, clean up right away as if Errol had gotten him dirty. Joe kissed the top of his head and stroked his back.

Unable to resist, Errol slid a hand down to Joe’s half-erect cock and gave it a squeeze.

Joe chuckled. “Not quite yet, sweetheart. I’m not as young as you.”

Errol looked into Joe’s dark eyes. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

Carson had been forty-eight. Pulling back a bit, Errol rolled his eyes. “Ancient.” Errol kept up the stimulation, and Joe grew hard and thick. Keeping Joe’s gaze locked on his, Errol slid down the bed.

“Hold up,” Joe said. “I’m clean. All tests negative last month. You?”

“Yeah. Tested. Haven’t been with anyone for months.” It had been a year, truth be told. Errol licked his lips.

“Condom?”

“Not for this. That okay?”
Please say okay
. He wanted badly to taste Joe. Craved it, really.

Joe nodded.

Using thumb and forefinger to encircle the base of Joe’s erection, Errol dipped his head. He licked the underside of Joe’s cock, enjoying the subtle change in the texture of the skin between base and crown. Another taste, this time of the precum collecting at the slit. The salty musk rolled over his tongue. When Errol engulfed the head, Joe bucked and gave a deep-throated growl. The silky skin slid between Errol’s lips, slippery with the salty-sweet flavor of semen. He sucked hard, taking in more of the swollen shaft.

“God.” Joe moaned, and his hand came down and petted Errol’s head.

Smiling, Errol pulled back, sucking hard, then soft, a touch of teeth. Joe groaned, and Errol glanced up. Joe’s eyes were at half-mast, and his fingers yanked at Errol’s hair, sending a hot wave of pleasure down his spine. Beneath Errol’s hand, tiny shudders went through Joe as he arched up, pushing but not forcing.

Hard suction. Tongue on the cleft.

The grip on Errol’s hair disappeared. Joe hissed, reached behind his head, and gripped the headboard. A dark red flush covered his upper chest. “Going…to…come.” With a muffled yell, Joe went rigid.

Hot pulses spilled on Errol’s tongue, sweet and a bit spicy. The flavor was unique, and Errol wanted it all, every drop. God, it was delectable, and there wasn’t enough. He mouthed Joe’s cock until it softened, licking the sensitive skin until Joe pulled away.

“Too sensitive now.” Panting, Joe tossed one arm over his eyes.

Errol wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and moved up the bed. After he’d seen, tasted, and heard Joe come, Errol’s cock ached.

“Good?” Errol asked.

Joe lifted his arm off his face. “Are you kidding?” He pulled Errol down for a kiss. “It’s like a new world order.”

Success
. Errol grinned, shook his head, and curled into Joe’s side.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep.”

Errol looked up. “No?”

“We’re not done.”

Chapter Nine

Joe almost laughed at the stunned expression on Errol’s face. Did he think Joe couldn’t feel the hard cock against his hip? Gently he rolled Errol to his back and then settled beside him.

Errol’s cock pressed forward, filling the pouch of the briefs, and the tip pushed against the waistband. It would make for a very naughty version of an Escalade print ad. Joe trailed his fingers along Errol’s fly. “This okay?”

Nodding, Errol watched him. Joe stroked Errol’s cock through the cotton and gave it a squeeze.
Very nice
. Joe leaned in, kissed the hardness in front of him, and mouthed the shaft through the cotton.

Errol gasped. “Joe…”

“Hmm?”

“More,” Errol whispered.

Oh, yes.

Grinning, Joe worked the briefs down an inch at a time, freeing Errol’s dick. It bobbed up, hard and leaking. The sight sent shivers through him, a sparking awareness like flipping a switch. Joe hadn’t tasted another man in two years. He craved that unique taste on his tongue, craved the pleasure of hot mouth closing on hard flesh. Craved the sound of Errol coming undone.

Errol lay still and watched him, biting his lip as if holding back words. Joe trailed his fingers along the underside of the shaft, gauging Errol’s response. A lovely cock, a beautiful man. Joe bent over and kissed the head of Errol’s dick. Errol gave a little bump of his hips.

Locking his gaze on Errol’s, Joe licked up the shaft and around the head. “Gonna make you feel good.”

Joe sucked him down. The flesh was hot and firm. Using one hand on the base, he tightened his lips and pulled up, softened his hold on the way down. The silky skin tasted of soap and salt and sweet man. Different than anyone else. Better. One of Errol’s hands ran over Joe’s jaw to his shoulder and clung there. Not a refusal, more like encouragement as Joe teased him.