Dalton, Tymber - Stoneface (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“Long and low as always, baby sis. What’s up?”

“Dad’s freaking out. I figured I’d better call you and get the accurate story.”

He sounded aggravated. “I told Mom I had the information about my scripts. She insisted on calling Amy anyway because she hadn’t called home in a couple of days. They keep tabs on her like freaking prison wardens. I’m not worried about her.”

“Ah. I thought that might be it. Maybe she just wanted extra downtime.”

He laughed. “Probably more like up and down time.”

“What?”

“Hold on.” It sounded like he put his phone down, and a moment later he returned, his voice lower. “I wanted to shut my door so Mom doesn’t overhear. I think Amy was meeting a guy out there. Which would explain why her name didn’t show on the hotel register.”

Suspicion confirmed.
“We think alike, bro.”

“I couldn’t say that for fear of blowing her cover, you know? What am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey, don’t worry about her, I think she’s just getting her freak on.’ I think not.”

Gwen burst out laughing. “Yeah. Dad would threaten her with the convent again.”

“I haven’t managed to convince him that one, we’re not Catholic, and two, she’s an adult.” He sighed. “Can you come spring me tonight? Please?”

Another guilty pang. Except for the fact that she’d want to kill her father, she would have volunteered to live there to help take care of Liam instead of Amy. “Will they let you out tonight? Are you feeling okay?” He’d almost been hospitalized over a kidney infection a few weeks earlier. She’d got him to the book signing only because he snuck out while their mother was out making her regular grocery store trip and their father was out playing golf. Liam waited to call their mom until after Gwen had safely spirited him away for the day.

“Just, please, come take me to your place for a couple of nights. I’m having a good week. I can move around okay. You saw me on Saturday, I feel fine. Two or three nights, please? You can order me a hooker. Or at the very least a damn pizza.”

Gwen laughed. No way in hell could she tell him no. “Be ready to run at three. Toss your bags out the window.”

“You are such a good baby sister. I’m willing my
Star Trek
collection to you, you know that, right?”

“Even Malibu Worf?”

The old joke never failed to make him laugh. “Malibu Worf, Malibu Data, anatomically correct Q, the whole damn crew.”

“Okay. You break it to them, and I’ll slow down on my way past so you can jump in.”

“See you at three.”

She looked around. Nothing needed cleaning, but she’d have to rearrange the living room a little so he could easily navigate in his wheelchair if he needed to use it. He’d sleep in the downstairs office she rarely used. The comfortable queen-sized Murphy bed folded down from the wall and was easy for him to get in and out of. She’d had the downstairs guest bath modified a couple of years earlier, after his diagnosis and before her divorce from Dickweed, so it opened into the office with a door wide enough for a wheelchair and configured so Liam could use it without assistance. She fingered her phone and decided to send Amy a text message instead of calling.

Pls call or txt me or Li. M&D going batshit. We won’t rat u out, promise.

Hopefully that would get some sort of response.

If not, she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace.

Chapter Three

“Ow! What the hell are you doing?” Jackson Kelly couldn’t move because his boyfriend, Timothy Ellis, sat straddling his chest, pinning him to their bed.

“Lie still. I told you it hurts more if you move.”

“You’re a fucking sadist—
ow
!”

“Hold. Still.” Tim pressed his palm against Jack’s forehead to keep him in place.

“I can’t—
ow
!—hold fucking still, Tim! You’re ripping my goddamned face off!”

“I’m almost done.”

“
Ow
!”

When Jack tried to push Tim off, Tim slapped his hand away. “Stop. Hold the fuck still.”

Jack thrashed and yelled and protested. Tim wouldn’t stop. Finally, Tim moved, letting Jack up. He put the tweezers on the bedside table. “There. You don’t look like a damn caveman anymore.” He climbed off the bed.

Jack glared at him before he went to go look at his face in their bathroom mirror, examining where Tim had yanked nose and eyebrow hairs.

“You jerk! You shaped them! I said you could get rid of my unibrow, not shape my fucking eyebrows!”

“You couldn’t tell what I was doing?”

“When it feels like someone’s ripping your nostrils out, no, you can’t!” He shot him another nasty look. “You’re a fucking sadist.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not like I held you down and gave you a Brazilian, you know.”

Jack shook his head. “Oh, fuck no. No way in hell.”

“But you’d look so cute.”

“Stop it.”

Tim ran his hand down Jack’s firm abs. “Just think, you could be smooth as a baby’s ass.”

“No. Absolutely not. I shave my face, and I let you trim my bush. That’s as far as I go. You want to skin yourself, be my guest. It’s not like I look like a damn Wookiee.”

“Thank god. I’m not into bears, you know that.” He let his hand drift lower, to Jack’s cock, as he gave Jack his infamous, cock-hardening, soul-melting puppy dog eyes. “This is Jack’s flaccid shaft.”

Jack burst out laughing. “That’s the last time I let you watch
Fight Club
right before bed.” As Tim wrapped his fingers around Jack’s flaccid shaft, it grew in his hand. “You don’t stop,” he warned, “you’re going to have to finish something.”

Tim tugged on him, leading him back to their bed. “Maybe that was my intention, did you think about that? You don’t have to be in court this morning. You said so last night. You can be a few minutes late to the station.”

Jack pushed the shorter man onto the bed and straddled him. “Maybe I should pluck
your
damn eyebrows.”

Tim pointed to his brow. “I pluck mine. I’m civilized. I’m not a damn pussy about it, either.”

“That’s because I think you’re a masochist.”

Tim grinned. “I thought you said I was a sadist. Make up your mind.”

“Maybe you’re both. One of those…what do they call them? A switch. Versatile.”

“You want to talk or fuck, Detective Kelly?”

Jack shifted position, until he knelt over Tim’s head, his cock just over his mouth. “What do you think?”

Tim opened his mouth and lifted his head, but Jack shifted his hips, teasing him until he finally let him suck his cock into his eager mouth. Tim grabbed his ass, pulling him closer, his fingers digging in and holding him in place.

Not that Jack wanted to move or had any intention of moving.

Jack reached out and braced his arms on the bed. Tim took him deep, wanting more, sucking him clear to his balls with every stroke. “Fuck yeah, baby,” Jack softly encouraged. “That’s it.” After a few minutes he knew he was close to blowing and made Tim release him.

Tim whined in protest, enjoying the bottom time, but Jack reassured him. “Just hold on, you’ll be a happy boy in a minute.” Jack turned around, changing positions so he could sixty-nine with him. Tim wasted no time sucking him down to his sac again as Jack wrapped his own fingers around Tim’s cock and licked it.

He could do this all day with him. If he didn’t watch out, he’d be late to work. He worked his hips in time with Tim’s mouth, enjoying the hot, wet suction from the glans to the base, working to draw the cum from his very depths. Beneath him, Tim’s trim, firm body squirmed as Jack worked similar magic on him. He cupped Tim’s balls in his hand and gently squeezed, making Tim moan. When he wet a finger and pressed it against Tim’s rim, Tim let out a muffled cry around Jack’s cock before he exploded a load of hot spunk into Jack’s mouth.

Jack stayed with Tim, swallowing, sucking, easing up when he knew his lover had enough.

Then he focused on his own orgasm. With his cheek pressed against Tim’s thigh, Jack closed his eyes and enjoyed his lover’s talented mouth as Tim happily pulled him over the edge of climax.

Tim rolled him onto his back, staying with him, relentless even after Jack tried to make him stop. Tim placed a kiss on his balls. “Nope. I want another one out of you, mister. You fell asleep on me last night. Morning wood relief is not nearly enough to make up for that.”

He didn’t have the heart to force Tim to stop, especially after he started playing with his ass and coaxed renewed interest from his limp cock. “At least I got you off first,” Jack said. “Not like I fell asleep and left you hanging. If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to do more than just fuck you last night. I was looking forward to some bottom time.”

He reached down and stroked Tim’s head. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, buddy. I promise.” Tim’s blond curls bobbed between Jack’s legs. “I need to get to work.”

Tim already had Jack’s cock deep in his throat. He made a muffled
uh-uh
sound around his member and increased his efforts.

Tapping him on the head didn’t work. Jack finally lay back and enjoyed it, his fingers burrowing through his lover’s unruly curls. He bucked his hips in time with Tim’s ministrations until his balls tightened. His climax, not as hard as the last one, rolled out of him, filling Tim’s mouth with cum as his body tensed on the bed.

As he lay there recovering, Tim released him and rested his cheek against his abs. “There. We’re even.”

“I didn’t know you kept score.”

“I don’t, normally. I just didn’t feel right getting off last night without returning the favor.” He crawled up the bed to lie next to Jack, propped on one elbow. He stroked Jack’s chest. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into a full body waxing? You’d love it.”

Jack arched an eyebrow at him as Tim broke into laughter. He leaned in and kissed him. “You know I’m teasing. Why would I wait to complain until now? Damn, you’re fun to tease.”

Jack rolled away from him and climbed out of their bed. After casting a glance at the clock, he shot a glare at Tim. “Now I don’t have enough time to eat breakfast.”

Tim laced his fingers behind his head. “I’ll make you a to-go sandwich. Go hop in the shower.”

Jack’s harsh expression softened. He leaned in again and kissed him. “Thanks, babe.”

* * * *

Tim waited until he heard the shower start to leave their bed. Naked, he walked out to the kitchen and hummed a random tune as he poached an egg and toasted an English muffin. Jack was his stone-faced man. In their six years together, Tim hadn’t coaxed Jack to talk about his private pain. Not that he ever could force Jack to divulge his heart’s deepest secrets, but he wanted to help him, wanted to love his man’s pain away. It hurt him there was a rock-solid bubble of ache inside of Jack that no amount of tenderness seemed to ease.

He suspected it centered around a tragic event in Jack’s past, one Jack had briefly glossed over not long after they’d gotten together. Even that little bit of recollection caused Jack nights of broken sleep and so much obvious anguish that Tim felt loathe to ask him more about it. He knew Jack had loved the girl very much. Sometimes, when they still lived in California, Jack visited her grave there even though she’d died here, in Rapid City.

At least Jack smiled more now than he used to, which said a lot considering how little he smiled now, and how he never seemed to smile when they first met.