Make a Right (32 page)

It did not, on the other hand, mean
don’t tease
. Tuck planned to take advantage of that. He’d earned this, damn it, and fuck him if he hadn’t gotten addicted to this particular torment.

He mouthed Cade’s cock, good and gloriously hard, fancy slacks stretched as obscenely tight as they could go over the hard line of him. Got him good and wet, the fabric clinging to him and Cade breathing in quick bursts, shallow gasps that became a strangled shout when Tuck cupped, molded, and pressed his palm against Cade.

He rocked, giving Cade something to thrust into but not enough to make him come, even when Cade did moan and tug at his hair in wordless begging. The tug became a yank, the sting in Tuck’s scalp making him purr as he rose.

This
was his man, who liked a bit of rough. Who could top him like no-fucking-one else in the wideness of the world and knew what he liked. When he wanted to give it.

Looked like he was in luck. Cade’s nostrils flared, and his lips thinned tight, but there was no hiding that devil’s sparkle in his eye. Wasn’t something Tuck considered himself overfamiliar with, but something he planned to strike a match to every damn time he could.

“Get on the bed,” Cade ordered. “On your back.”

And just in case Tuck had been inclined to protest—which no way in hell he would have—Cade pushed him, sending him where Cade wanted him. Tuck landed with a bounce that rumpled up that Richie Rich duvet just
fine.

He propped himself on his elbows and took in the view, because it was a view well worth taking his time over.

Who’d blame him? Cade with his coat off, his shirt open, slacks outlining every inch of his gorgeous cock.

“You’ve got me here,” Tuck said. He propped himself on his elbows, disobeying a bit. Just a bit, to tease him. “What are you gonna do with me now?”

Cade drew his belt free of its loops and tossed it to the floor. “What do you think?”

“Fuck me.” Tuck shuddered, head to toe. His cock strained against his pants; thank fuck they weren’t jeans. He had to palm himself now to press down and calm, but oh, that brought sharper glints of light to Cade’s eyes.

“Soon,” Cade said. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall. Tuck thought he might tease over his slacks, groping the wet spot, but no. He took the two steps to the edge of the bed, his groin within reach of Tuck’s head, and took him by the nape. Held Tuck there as he did away with the barriers in their way and freed himself.

Tuck couldn’t look away and didn’t want to. Ever. “Yeah?”

Cade laughed, dark and smoky. A tiny bit shaky. His hands didn’t shake at all when he drew the tip of his cock over Tuck’s lips, leaving the taste of sticky salt behind that demanded to be licked off. “What do you think?”

“I think this.” Tuck rested his weight on one arm for the sake of capturing Cade by the hips and holding him there, tipping himself almost off balance to lap at the head of Cade’s cock.

One taste wasn’t anywhere near enough. Nor was two. He sucked at the crown, milking Cade for the flavor of him and the slippery drops that he cradled in the cup of his tongue that he spread down Cade’s length in noisy slides of lips over shaft, taking him deeper, deeper still—

Cade pushed him back, careful but rough. He shimmied his hips to free them of the slacks and let them fall, stepping out of them as fucking gorgeous as a man could be. He took himself in hand and pumped.

“No fair teasing,” Tuck protested.

“Then get yourself undressed, and I won’t.”

Tuck arched an eyebrow. “Kind of hard to do by myself when I’m flat on my back.”

“Is that you asking me for help?”

“Nope.” Tuck savored the pause as much as Cade’s cock stiffening darker, harder, jutting up toward his belly. “That’s me telling you.”

“Demon.” Cade would have crushed Tuck if he hadn’t taken his weight on one arm, so fast and rough did he bend to kiss him breathless and half-blind. “I guess I owe you one.”

“Don’t owe me anything.”

“God.” Cade kissed him, teeth bruising lips, both of them harsh on one another the only way harsh should be.

Cade wasn’t near as careful with the buttons as Tuck had been, but any complaints there? No way. Tuck stretched luxuriantly and arched his chest, loving the feel of air on his skin. Loving better Cade’s hurricane of kisses and bites, of hands that roamed everywhere, of teeth that caught Tuck’s nipple between them and bit, making him shout and lift his back off the bed.

Cade pressed him down and held him there. “Don’t move,” he murmured, making fast work of getting those damn pants out of the way. Hell if Tuck wasn’t half as soaked as Cade, his balls aching-full and his cockhead wet.

“
Fuck
,” Tuck swore, making a chant of it. Cade’s mouth drawing him in, hell, it couldn’t be more different than his go at a blow this morning than if they were two different men.

Tuck guessed they might be, actually. He scratched at the sides of Cade’s head in lieu of hair, bitten-short nails scuffing, not scratching his scalp. He strained against Cade’s arm holding him firm at the waist, keeping him from thrusting up into that warm wet tunnel of a mouth, going too far and too fast to make this last.

He shoved Cade’s shoulder. “Get up here,” he said, voice rough from desire and resonant with his hunger for more, for anything, whatever Cade would give him and what he sure as hell hoped Cade would. “We’re both naked. I say we do something more about it.”

“God, you are unbelievable.” Didn’t sound like a bad thing, the way Cade said it now. “Unbelievable…”

Tuck was pleased to be right when Cade climbed atop him, stretching out full length, swollen cocks sliding hard and fast in the smooth skin between groins and hips, fucking against skin made slick with musky sweat.

Not enough, though. He shoved up, lifting Cade off him. “Follow my lead.”

Tuck could tell Cade knew what he wanted. Cade jostled Tuck half in teasing and half to get Tuck right where Tuck was sure they both wanted him, straddling Cade’s lap.

Cade didn’t let him fall while he bent and twisted to dig the lube out of the bedside table drawer. A condom came with it, static cling molding it to the side of the bottle.

Tuck scowled at the thing and held the foil square in front of Cade’s face before flicking it to the floor. “No one but you. You get that?”

Cade’s kiss told Tuck that he did and that it wouldn’t need repeating either.

Still kissing him, Cade took the slick from Tuck and put it to damn good use. Too hard, too rough, too eager, but good. So good.

Cade lifted Tuck and eased him down. He butted his head beneath Tuck’s chin, straining to wait, to let Tuck get used to it.

Hell with that. Tuck took the reins, and he ran with them, rising. “Whatever you can give, I can take.”

“You always could,” Cade said, his own jaw clenched tight. He lifted Tuck and eased him halfway down—lifted and thrust and slammed their bodies together, ass to thigh, again and again. Never the same twice, no rhythm from the beginning, but be damned if they needed that now. All that mattered was
more.

Tuck bit Cade when he came with no time to warn the man, but that was okay. Cade’s nails dug into his back, sharp stings that’d leave half-moon marks to enjoy every day until they healed, and flooded Tuck, filling him with everything he’d held back for far too long.

They stayed as they were, gasping uselessly for deeper breaths of the humid air that tasted of sex and each other. “Here,” Tuck said, sucking up one last love mark on Cade’s neck. “And there. Just so you don’t forget.”

“As if I could.” Cade’s cum slicked his cock, making it easier and the most impossible thing ever to lift Tuck off. His arms wouldn’t take Tuck’s weight and dropped him on the bed, but that was okay, because Cade himself came tumbling after, his head at rest over Tuck’s heart.

And that too was as it should be.

He smoothed Tuck’s hair where he’d pulled too hard, not easing away the sting but reminding him of it. There was no pleasure without a little bit of pain.

After the past few months—years—Tuck thought maybe he ought to get that tattooed somewhere. Probably on his ass. He’d make Cade do it too. Thinking about what he’d have to do to convince Cade? Not a bad thing.

Tuck settled with a sigh. “Some kind of wedding.”

“Some kind,” Cade agreed, slow and sleepy.

Then there was nothing but the sound of the bed settling, sheets falling into folds, and breath slowing in time with the beat of noisy hearts. Tuck thought maybe that was it. That they’d fall asleep now, together; that’d suit him fine.

But Cade moved beneath him, shifting up. He turned his head on the pillow and nudged Tuck’s chin up to get a better look at him. “A house?” he asked. “Is that still what you want?”

Tuck propped his chin between Cade’s nipples, to the right of his heart. “Damn right. Only I’d do it different this time, that I promise. We’ll be in debt for the rest of our lives. I’m up for it. You?”

Cade nudged him down and lay still, stroking idly through Tuck’s hair, sifting the strands that dried into curls.

“Me?” he asked, taking in the comfort Tuck gave him and giving Tuck the strength he’d learned to lean on. “A home of our own, me and you,” Cade said, rolling the words on his tongue with what sounded like hope. Like happiness. “I think I’d like that.”

There was no answer for that but for Tuck to kiss him.

And when one kiss led to another and another still, well. Tuck wasn’t complaining.

Epilogue

Cade tapped the folded newspaper against his leg. He bit his lip and looked up, through trees long since overgrown and at ivy curtaining brick walls. Tuck sat behind him on the edge of an old fountain fallen into disuse ages ago but still good. All it needed was some TLC and, failing that, a jackhammer.

“I’m not going to ask what you think is funny now,” Cade said. He traced the bright red circle Tuck had drawn around the real estate ad that’d led them here. “You really think this is the one?”

Tuck propped his chin on his hand. Rosebushes prickled around them, plenty of thorns and still some late-autumn blooms showing. A fence bordered the property, old-fashioned pickets set sturdily enough in the ground to keep Suzie-Q safe. She sniffed at them, barking every now and then in approval in case her two men missed the point. Good thing dogs were color-blind, because the paint job? Well…interesting was the best that could be said of soft orange mixed with a few whites. Creamsicle.

Tuck was in love.

“This is it,” he said. “Speak now, or forever—”

Cade laughed. “Or forever wish I had? I know.” He treated the property to a good hard once-over. “Calling it a fixer-upper is casting shame on real fixer-uppers,” he teased.

“You see a disaster, I see a few weekends of DIY.” Tuck waved that aside. “It’s all in the eye of the beholder.”

“So say you?”

“So say I. The one who’s going to be doing all the work.”

“Not all of it.” Cade had his stubborn face on. “I taught you how to dance. You never got to finish teaching me how to hammer a nail without taking my thumb off.” His lips quirked up at one corner. “Oh wait. That was your thumb.”

“Barely a scratch, and everybody’s still making a fuss.” Tuck said. He rolled his eyes in pretended offense that he knew fooled absolutely no one, and why should it? He loved Cade in a jokey mood.

“Hey.” Cade held himself easier these days. Tuck loved that too. “It doesn’t mean you won’t do it right this time.”

Tuck eyed his lover. The devil, or maybe an angel with an odd sense of humor, made him ask a question unplanned. “You trust me?”

Cade’s return glance was sharp—before it softened. “Yes,” he said.

And Tuck believed him now. Again. Like before. Better.

“So we’re decided? This is the one?” Cade tucked the newspaper under his arm and held the other one out, an open space for Tuck to fill if he liked.

Bet your life Tuck did. He leaned his head on Cade’s shoulder. “This is it,” he said. “The end of the road.” Halfway between Albany and New York, with roses and ivy and neighbors just close enough to annoy, a backyard more than big enough for Suzie-Q, and an extra room for Hannah and Megan if they wanted to visit.

Cade jostled him gently. “That’s some kind of a thing for a driver to say.”

“Eh.” Tuck shrugged. “What’s the point in a road if you can’t find your way home?”

Cade wrinkled his nose. “Cheese.”

“You love it, and you know it.” Tuck craned his neck to look up at Cade. “So? Agreed, disagreed?”

“I think…” Cade took his time about it, tapping that paper, biting his lip. Making sure he was sure, thinking it through.

Tuck could wait. They were better, both of them. That didn’t mean perfect, but hey. They were imperfect together and making it work.

“Yes,” Cade said finally. “It’s home.”

“Damn right.”

Cade laughed quietly. “You would put it that way.” He kissed the top of Tuck’s head, then bent to pick up his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. “Grab that ‘for sale’ sign on your way to the car,” he called to Tuck. “No one else gets a chance at this one.”

That thing people always said? They had it backward and sideways. If a guy was lucky—lucky twice over—then two wrongs could make a right. Man, of anybody else out there, Tuck figured he’d be the one to know.

Tuck closed his eyes and breathed deeply, tasting the peace and the smell of good honest soil, roses and sun-warmed stone, and let the rustle of leaves fill his ears. He let his eyelids drift open and looked up at the sun.

You know, he thought, I didn’t even ask for one this time, but I think it’s going to be a good day today.