Isle of Waves (12 page)

“You’re very lucky,” Wig said. “You’ve picked a good one. Both you and Sam have picked great guys.”

“It’s hysterical that you couldn’t find a single man—or woman,” Nibs said, with an acknowledgement to Paul’s bisexuality, “in England, but Liam is a doll, and boy, look at the muscles on Skandik. Them Yanks build ’em big.”

“Will you shut up,” Skandik muttered.

“But he’s right, love,” Paul cooed. “These muscles are gorgeous.” He squeezed Skandik’s biceps.

Skandik tried to brush him off, but Paul wouldn’t let go.

“Do you remember when we were like that?” Nibs asked Wig.

“I’ve never stopped admiring your muscles.”

“Really?” Wig poked him in the ribs.

“Ouch, stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Attacking my ribs. Paul is groping Skandik, and you poke me.”

“I don’t mind groping you if you like, lover.”

“They’re newly in love.”

Wig looked over at Paul and Skandik. They were otherwise occupied and not paying attention to their hosts. “I love you, you know.”

Nibs looked puzzled. “I know that.”

“Then it’s about time you fucking remembered it, baby.” Wig climbed onto his lap. “You’re pushing me away, and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not pushing you away.” Nibs’s hands settled on his arse, his favorite place to stow his hands.

Wig stroked his stubbled cheek. “You are, Nibs, even if you don’t realize it. I love you, and it hurts me to see you not trust me like you used to.” He kept his voice low, not wanting to intrude on the intimacy of the other two men.

Nibs kissed him gently, then rested his forehead on Wig’s. “I guess I’ve been trying to protect you.”

“You stupid idiot. I’m a big boy. I’m older than you. Just because I’m the size of a pocket handkerchief doesn’t mean I’m stupid or need to be treated like a child. If you’re sick, I need to know.”

“You’re sick?”

Nibs sighed against Wig’s lips and looked over to Paul, who’d suddenly taken an interest in their conversation. “I’ve been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.”

“You didn’t tell Wig?”

Nibs hung his head.

“Fucking idiot.”

“That’s what I told him. We’re partners, we need to share these things.” Wig frowned. “I thought type 2 diabetes was for older people.”

“So did I, but apparently some younger people are getting it as well. Lucky me.”

“Do you think the stress of the past year has been a factor?”

“I don’t think it helped, babe, but it’s not that serious. I haven’t even been to the clinic yet. I just can’t afford to ignore it.”

“I’m going with you. I don’t trust you to tell me what the doctors say.”

“Good call,” Paul said, pulling Skandik to his feet. “Now we’re off to see the family, and you two can argue, fuck, or whatever.”

Skandik sighed. “Paul, don’t you ever filter what you say?”

“You have met this man, haven’t you?” Wig said. “Paul’s never filtered anything. You should have met him when he was a teenager. Christ, he was a nightmare. I thought Sam was bad, but Paul….”

“Yes, yes, thanks, Wig. He doesn’t need to know all my secrets.”

Skandik looked at him incredulously. “Paul, I’ve been talking to your parents and brothers for the last four days. They
love
telling me all your ‘secrets.’”

Paul huffed and led Skandik out of the room.

Wig turned his attention on Nibs. He was still straddled across his thighs, pressed close enough against Nibs’s groin that his attention was diverted from scolding to something a lot more fun.

“Hmmm, you have something in mind, boy?”

“Why don’t you stick your large, fat cock up my arse?”

Nibs thrust his hips upward, and Wig groaned at the delicious pressure behind his balls.

“Make me hard, boy.”

Wig shivered at the commanding note in Nibs’s voice. They only played at the fringes of D/s, but when Nibs was in the mood, he could press all of Wig’s sub buttons. He wriggled off Nibs’s lap and went to kneel between his legs, but Nibs held out his hand.

“Strip first.”

Clothes flew everywhere as Wig stripped as quickly as he could and then sank, naked, between Nibs’s meaty thighs. Nibs didn’t seem to need much of a hand in getting hard, his cock resting thick on his stomach. Wig licked his lips at the anticipation of getting it in his mouth. He waited for permission.

Nibs’s eyes were dark with arousal. “Suck my balls,” he ordered.

Wig placed his hands on Nibs’s thighs and leant forward to lap at the nice, heavy sac, taking a smug satisfaction in Nibs’s groan. He took his time, licking around the loose skin and concentrating on the thin skin behind his balls before taking each ball into his mouth, rolling them gently with his tongue, until Nibs gave his next order.

“Now my cock. Suck the head.”

Wig licked Nibs’s belly along his happy trail, to gather up the moisture caught in the hairs.

“That’s not my cock,” Nibs growled, pushing Wig’s head to where he wanted it to be.

Obediently, Wig tongued around the head, tasting the precome, which had been steadily leaking.

“More. Suck it.” Nibs’s hands became more demanding.

Wig took his cock into his mouth and tasted an explosion of flavor. He sucked hard, knowing Nibs wanted to feel the pressure down to his toes. Nibs thrust up, forcing more of his cock into Wig’s mouth. Wig almost gagged, but he’d had years of loving Nibs’s dick and relaxed his throat muscles, letting it slide in nice and gentle.

“Dammit, get on top of me.”

Wig pulled back, Nibs’s dick sliding out wet and messy. He grabbed the lube, quickly prepared himself, and positioned himself against the hard shaft, Nibs holding it as Wig sank down.

He grunted as Nibs’s cock filled and stretched him. He arched his back as he bottomed out, resting on Nibs’s thighs.

“Jesus, don’t move.” Nibs clamped his hands to Wig’s hips, trapping him there.

“Why not?”

“Because this is going to be the quickest fuck in history if you do, and do that again and I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.” Nibs slapped one arse cheek by way of demonstration.

Wig snickered and relaxed his muscles around Nibs’s member. “You know that’s not a threat, right?”

“Wicked boy,” Nibs grumbled.

“Your boy.” Wig leant forward and kissed him, both of them groaning at the change in angle.

“Always my boy.” Nibs clutched his hips so hard, Wig knew he’d be wearing bruises for a few days.

“Then remember that,” Wig whispered against his lips. “In sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, you are mine and I love you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Wig growled and clenched his body around Nibs so tight it had to have hurt. “Don’t talk fucking bollocks. I’ve been by your side every step of the way as we started this place, and yeah, if we sell up, it’ll be a wrench, but whatever we do, we do it together. How many times do I have to say this?”

“If you stop trying to squeeze my dick, I promise you never have to say it again.”

Wig paused, just to prove a point, then relaxed. Nibs took a cautious breath and then another.

“Do you think we could get over the sharing/caring moment and get on with the fucking?

Wig placed a hand over Nibs’s heart. “As long as you remember that this is mine.” He picked up Nibs’s hand and placed it over his heart. “And this is yours. Don’t move your hand whilst we fuck.”

“I thought I was the one in charge,” Nibs grumbled.

“In your dreams,” Wig said and started to move. He’d made his point, and now they could get on with the business at hand. He rolled his hips, gasping as Nibs groaned.

“Do that again.”

He did, and again, and again, until Nibs planted his feet firmly on the floor and took control of the pace, forcing Wig harder and harder onto his cock. All the time Wig kept his hand on Nibs’s heart, feeling it thump and race. It was awkward, the rhythm off without using both hands, but Wig didn’t care. He loved his partner, and this was what he could offer him: reassurance they were both alive and essential to each other.

Nibs’s grunts and groans grew louder, and he shoved up harder in Wig’s greedy channel. Wig felt him swell and push until Nibs came with hard pulses, filling Wig with his seed.

Nibs’s contorted face at his climax was enough to send Wig over the edge, and he spilled onto Nibs’s belly and chest, coating the hair with his come. He collapsed onto Nibs’s chest, his hand still over Nibs’s racing heart as though it was glued into position.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Nibs said eventually.

“You stopped Joe Michaels from hitting me,” Wig said sleepily. “I was yours from that moment. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for you.”

“
You
stopped me from killing him,” Nibs said.

“Only because I didn’t want to end up in prison just to follow you. Orange really isn’t my color.”

“That’s America, babe. We don’t have the orange jumpsuits over here.”

“Whatever. I prefer my own clothes.”

“You would have followed me to prison?”

“I would have followed you to the ends of the earth, babe.”

Nibs sighed underneath him. “You’re a sad sap, Toby.”

Wig scraped a nail across one of Nibs’s flat nipples. “Call me that again, Justin, and I’ll regret not squeezing off your dick.”

“Noted.” Nibs stroked down his back. “We ought to move.”

“Soon.” Wig wasn’t sure the muscles in his legs had any intention of working again.

“Do you want Paul and Skandik to get a show?”

“They’ve seen it before. At least one of them has.”

“True.” Nibs held him closer. “We’ll move in a moment.”

Wig hummed and snuffled against Nibs’s chest. He didn’t care if Paul and Skandik caught sight of his bare bum, because he wasn’t moving out of Wig’s arms anytime soon, and anyway, he had a fantastic arse.

“W
HEN
WAS
the last time we had some time off?” Nibs asked.

“Beginning of the year. We had that cruise and a month on Providence Island.”

Nibs knew that as well as Wig did. They’d only been able to do that because Nibs’s gran had passed away and left him a small legacy. Perhaps they’d have been better to save their money if they’d known what sort of year they were going to have.

“We could take six months off, travel the world, find us a cabana boy.”

“Touch another man, and your balls are mincemeat,” Wig said bluntly. They were monogamous. That didn’t mean they stopped looking at other guys. They’d watch if invited, and they didn’t particularly care if they had an audience when they fucked (fucked, not made love). But there was no sharing. It had kept them safe over the last decade, and that’s the way Wig intended to keep it.

Nibs’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “You wouldn’t like a young boy to cater to your every whim?”

“The only person who caters to my whims is you.” Wig had no interest in twinks. He preferred his man to be all delightfully hairy and male, but he knew Nibs liked twink-like guys. It worried him that one day Nibs would trade him in for a younger model.

They were sitting on the pier, eating ice creams, before they headed back to the Lagoon. All the boys had shoved them out this morning and told them not to come back until six.

They had stared at each other, and Wig could see the indecision in Nibs’s eyes because he wasn’t used to being pushed out of his own environment. In the end Wig held out his hand and led Nibs out of the restaurant. The storm was due the next evening, but the weather was hot and the sea calm. The forecast warned of stronger winds reaching the island the following morning.

Paul and Skandik were leaving first thing in the morning, but Liam and Sam were staying on, and Jim and Mattie were staying at Rose’s to look after her, despite her tart rejoinder that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself. She had confided in Liam that she wanted everyone to go home. She was finding it all too tiring. Wig knew just how she felt. He loved the guys and appreciated the support, but he could do with everyone going home and letting them deal with the issues at hand.

Wig looked at the murky water beneath the pier. “Do you think we ought to tell them that we’re thinking of selling up?”

Nibs huffed out a breath. “They won’t let us forget about it if we do. I think it’s something we need to keep between ourselves.”

“I wonder why there’s been no trouble since the second break-in. Even the Sawars have left us alone.”

“Maybe they’ve been scared off by the amount of people staying with us. Would you argue with a bloke Skandik’s size?”

“He is rather imposing isn’t he?”

Nibs gave a wry smile. “He makes
me
nervous.”

“Of course the trouble may resume when they go tomorrow.” Wig couldn’t help worrying about Paul and Skandik’s departure. Having two coppers on the premises had been a great deterrent.

“I hope the storm puts them off for a couple of days. They’ll find it hard to break in with all the sandbags against the door.”

“Should we invite Liam and Sam to stay with us? It will save their hotel bills.”

Nibs threw the last of his cone over the side, then watched the antics of the gulls squabbling over the treat. “I thought you wanted the place back to ourselves.”