Safe in His Arms (25 page)

against the wall.

Fingers scrabbled with buttons and zippers as they reached for each other‘s hard

cock. Their mouths remained locked in a deep kiss as each stroked the other‘s shaft with

eager hands.

With his free hand, Russell gripped Hank hard by the hair, forcing his head back as

he kissed him. Hank moaned against him, his body shuddering, his cock twitching in

Russell‘s grip. He felt the hot spurt of Hank‘s climax seconds later, and Hank‘s sexy cry,

along with his insistent fingers, sent Russell over the edge along with him.

Russell let Hank go, watching as he slid down the wall, his hair wild in his face, his

lips shiny from their protracted kiss. His shirt was open, his muscular smooth chest

slick with sweat, rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath.

―You thirsty?‖ Russell asked. Hank nodded, and Russell moved toward the sink to

get Hank some water. He watched Hank drink, admiring the way his Adam‘s apple

moved as he drained the glass.

When Hank set the glass on the counter, Russell lunged for him, catching Hank off

guard as he swung him up over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

―Hey! Put me down!‖ Hank cried, but he was laughing as he playfully pummeled

Russell‘s back.

―Sorry, dude, but you‘re filthy. I don‘t want oil stains on my sheets. A bar of soap

would go a long way about now.‖ Holding Hank in place over his shoulder, Russell

walked through the loft toward the bathroom, where he set Hank on his feet and gave

his ass a playful swat.

Stripping quickly, Russell turned on the shower and stepped into the stall. Turning

toward Hank, he held out his arms in invitation. ―Get naked and get your sexy ass in

here.‖ He was pleased to see that Hank wasted no time obeying.

~*~

Hank stared at Russell‘s strong, burly frame as he stood naked beneath the shower

spray, beckoning Hank to enter. Greedily he drank in the details of the body and face

he‘d missed so much these past weeks apart.

As Hank stepped into the shower, Russell pulled him closer, wrapping him in

strong arms. Aware he was filthy, Hank reached for the soap, but Russell shook his

head. ―I‘ll do it.‖

The hot water felt good sluicing over his skin. Russell‘s hands felt even better,

moving in slow, sensual circles over Hank‘s naked body, lathering away the oil and

sweat. Though he‘d only just come a few minutes before, Russell‘s touch sent spirals of

heat directly to Hank‘s groin.

Russell soaped Hank‘s cock and balls with a wet washcloth until he nearly came

from the friction. Each time Hank reached hungrily for Russell‘s body, Russell gently

but firmly pushed his hands away. Hank gave up, closing his eyes as he surrendered to

Russell‘s sensual touch. He groaned with lust when the washcloth was again replaced

by Russell‘s hands.

The small bathroom was filled with steam swirling in the air when Russell turned

off the water. Hank thought they would step out and get dry, but Russell apparently

had other ideas.

―Give me your wrists,‖ he said in a voice that brooked no refusal.

Hank opened his eyes, watching as Russell leaned out of the stall to reach for his T-

shirt, which he tore lengthwise and then twisted like rope in his large hands. Hank‘s

pulse quickened, his cock jutting hard as Russell wrapped the thin cotton binding

securely around his wrists. As it always did, something about the feel of restraints sent

shivers of erotic anticipation through Hank‘s body.

Jesus, I’ve missed this
, he thought, only in that moment realizing just how much.

―Face the wall, wrists over your head,‖ he instructed. Hank lifted his arms, resting

them high against the tiled wall of the shower. He sighed contentedly, savoring the feel

of erotic surrender that was settling over him like a warm, heavy cloak.

Russell ran his hands down Hank‘s extended arms and along his sides. ―Give me

your ass,‖ Russell ordered. Eagerly Hank arched his back, thrusting out his ass, which,

as he‘d hoped, received a sound smack. Russell‘s hard palm stung smartly against wet

skin. Hank welcomed the pain. He needed it; he craved it in a way he didn‘t

understand, but no longer fought.

Russell struck him again, on the other cheek and Hank moaned his appreciation.

Again and again Russell spanked Hank‘s bare, wet ass until it felt like it was on fire, a

fire that kindled flames of lust deep in his gut. He was breathing hard and his cock and

balls ached.

Russell pressed his large, strong body against Hank‘s back, holding him flat against

the cold wall tiles. He could feel Russell‘s erect cock against his burning ass. Russell

ducked his head, lightly biting Hank‘s neck, the nudge of teeth sending a thrill through

Hank‘s frame.

―You need this,‖ Russell murmured into his ear, and Hank nodded.

He did need this. After sharing a life, however briefly, with Russell, the weeks

without him had really brought home the emptiness of Hank‘s existence. He

understood now on a gut level that money not only wasn‘t everything, it was nothing.

What mattered was love. He silently vowed to cherish every moment with his man.

Yet, despite the earlier bout of lovemaking, he was still wound tight as a steel trap

that desperately needed to be sprung. It was as if his skin and the muscle and bone

beneath required the hard, stinging touch of Russell‘s hand to release him from the

tension of the past weeks.

―Please,‖ he whispered, all of his need contained in the word.

Russell understood, and gave him more of what he craved, alternating between

hard, stinging blows and a gentler, almost caressing touch. When he gently turned

Hank to face him, Hank draped his tethered wrists around Russell‘s neck, pulling him

down for a long, deep kiss.

Russell untied the ruined T-shirt and they stepped together out of the shower onto

the thick bathmat. The room was steamy and warm. Hank sank to his knees, resting his

hot, stinging bottom against his heels as he reached for Russell‘s shaft. He half feared

Russell would rebuff him, but Russell only stroked his wet hair from his face as Hank

leaned eagerly over Russell‘s cock.

Hank inhaled Russell‘s clean, intoxicating scent. He was eager too to show his

gratitude for the spanking he‘d needed so badly. His own cock was aching for attention

but he ignored it, focused on Russell‘s pleasure. He sucked and licked along the long,

thick shaft, taking it as far back into his throat as he could. Gripping the base of the

shaft with one hand, Hank began to bob his head up and down along Russell‘s cock, the

heavy balls beneath cradled in his other hand.

―Slow down,‖ Russell murmured, putting his hands on either side of Hank‘s head.

―There‘s no hurry.‖ Holding Hank still, he began to guide himself in and out of Hank‘s

mouth. Hank closed his eyes, letting his hands fall away as he focused on opening his

throat to fully receive Russell‘s offering.

Russell moved slowly, pressing into Hank‘s open mouth until he nearly gagged

him, not stopping until the head of his cock was lodged at the back of Hank‘s throat.

Hank couldn‘t breathe, and for a panicked moment he lifted his hands, thinking to push

Russell away.

―Hands down,‖ he heard Russell say, and despite his pounding heart, Hank

obeyed. Only then did Russell pull back, allowing Hank to catch his breath before

slowly but surely moving forward until Hank‘s windpipe was again blocked. This time

he stayed there longer. Hank fought the rising panic, focusing instead on the heavy,

sweet weight of Russell‘s shaft filling his mouth and throat.

―Yes,‖ Russell said softly. ―That‘s it. You belong to me, Hank. Even your breath is

mine.‖ He began to move more rhythmically, pressing in, pulling out, his hands all the

while on either side of Hank‘s head, holding him in place. Hank held himself open,

embracing the onslaught of the large cock that impaled him.

All at once Russell began to shudder, his thrusts more insistent as he groaned with

pleasure. His hands fell away from Hank‘s head and Hank reached for Russell‘s cock,

gripping the base of the shaft again. He reached with his other hand between Russell‘s

legs, drawing his fingers along the sensitive skin of his perineum, all the while sucking

and licking Russell‘s bone-hard shaft.

―Ah!‖ Russell cried, his body suddenly stiffening. Russell gripped Hank‘s shoulders

to steady himself as he came in a series of convulsive thrusts. Hank sucked him in deep,

milking the sweet, hot cum from Russell‘s cock until there was nothing left.

Russell pulled back and sank slowly to his knees in front of Hank. Hank brought

his arms around him and rested his head against Russell‘s shoulder. Though his own

cock still throbbed with need, he didn‘t care. All that mattered at that moment was

Russell. Hank‘s heart surged with happiness.

This, he thought with a sense of pure wonder, is what love feels like.

Russell‘s big hand circled Hank‘s aching shaft. ―Come for me,‖ he whispered. It

didn‘t take long for Hank to obey.

The September morning dawned crisp and clear, a perfect day for the beer festival.

Russell was down in the brewery attending to last minute details. Hank stood, leaning

his forehead against his arm, which he rested against the glass of the large windows of

Russell‘s loft. He stared out at the brick buildings framed by a bright blue summer sky.

It was a markedly different view from the acres of rolling lawn against a backdrop

of mountains he‘d enjoyed in his prior life, as he‘d come to think of the time before

Russell. While he still sometimes missed that spectacular view and all the creature

comforts of that former time, he‘d come to genuinely appreciate the view from Russell‘s

comfortable, airy loft. He enjoyed watching the pigeons and doves lined contentedly

along the telephone wires. He had become fond of the old sign painted directly on the

brick building across the street,
Blue Moon Diner – World’s Best Biscuits
in faded letters

with a large smiling man in the moon in yellows and blues beneath it.

Hank had never seen Russell so excited. Both he and his business partner Nolan

had been working nearly around the clock for the past week getting their beer bottled

and labeled. Hank had even been recruited to help, which he didn‘t mind at all. In fact,

it made him feel good to be a part of something productive, and their energy and

enthusiasm were infectious.

The six weeks since Hank had come back to Russell had been the most exhausting

and also the happiest of Hank‘s life. He‘d finally come to learn firsthand what it meant

to work for a living, and while he certainly didn‘t plan to spend his life at
Snappy Lube
,

he found he derived a real sense of satisfaction from a job well done. True, the money

he earned wasn‘t much in the scheme of things, but it was his—he had earned it and

that felt good.

His father‘s assets continued to be frozen, and both the company and his father

were embroiled in what promised to be a long, drawn out battle with the IRS. Hank no

longer relied on the potential return of his sizable monthly allowance, and, though the

realization shocked him some, he really no longer cared.

The company lawyers had managed to get Hank‘s house exempted from the

proceedings, and he‘d put the place up for sale, with the intention of using some of the

proceeds to pay off his debts. Whatever monies were left he planned to put in a joint

account with Russell. Though Russell said it didn‘t matter, it bothered Hank that he

wasn‘t yet contributing what he thought of as his fair share to their living arrangements.

He‘d been able to buy back the stolen coins from the pawn shop, and while he was

meeting with management at the country club to work out a pay down schedule for his

back fees owed, he‘d managed to slip the coins back into the glass cabinet from which

they‘d come.

Determined to fulfill all the requirements Russell had laid out for him back when

he‘d walked out, Hank had tracked down Julio Ramirez, the last in the string of hired

help he‘d fired in a fit of rage at being told the truth about himself. It was only a phone

call, and Julio was none too receptive at first, but Hank had apologized for how he‘d

treated Julio—he‘d done his best to make amends. Once Julio had thawed a bit, he let

Hank know he had landed on his feet, and had a job as a sous chef at one of Denver‘s

finer restaurants. The conversation was brief, and Julio made it pretty clear he wasn‘t

especially glad to hear from Hank, but Hank took comfort in the knowledge that at least

he had tried.

Russell had been encouraging him to return to college, and at first Hank had

dismissed the idea out of hand. He had probably two or three semesters‘ worth of

credits under his belt, before he‘d dropped out altogether in his early twenties. It had