Carnal Christmas-epub (7 page)

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” Brent told him with a wry look. Then he got serious. “Hake…thank you. It’s always meant a lot to me that I could look to you for help or advice or whatever.”

“And you and Joe returned the favor when I needed you most,” Hake reminded him, “which is how we all ended up in this together. So thank you, too.”

After an uncomfortable moment, during which Brent thought about hugging his cousin and then discarded the idea as too maudlin, he nodded. “Well, then.”

“Yup.” Hake nodded too. “So….let’s go take a look at that workshop.”

* * * * *

Joe wasn’t caught off guard when the workshop door opened and Brent and Hake walked in—he’d heard the shed door slam a few minutes earlier and mopped his face with his shirt sleeve before quickly repacking the box and stuffing it under his workbench.

But that didn’t mean he was ready to face the two men who saw through all his bullshit and weren’t afraid to call him on it. After breaking down the way he had, he felt raw and exposed. Alone. And afraid, as if something was coming for him. Soon. He didn’t need them seeing that and using it to keep him here.

Picking up the rack he’d clamped a few minutes ago, he examined it as though it could possibly be ready for finishing. “Showing Hake around?”

Right. Because everyone dragged their guests outside after dark, during a raging snowstorm, to show them the machine shed and workshop.

“Since we were here,” Brent drawled.

Joe winced but didn’t quit inspecting his clamps to make sure they were tight and perfectly placed. He was such a fuckwit.

“You’re going to have to face us sooner or later, Joe,” Hake said. “We’ll just be right here whenever you’re ready.”

He heard the rustle of coats being shed, the sounds of snaps and zippers landing on wood, and then the creak of metal as one of them had settled on the high stool at Brent’s workbench. The subsequent creak of wood told him the other had probably sat on the workbench itself.

Fuck. They were going to wait him out. Which meant he had three choices. He could take up their challenge and start another project, make them sit there until they were too tired to do anything but go back to the house. He could go on the offensive and try to bluster it out. Or he could just go back to the house and barricade himself in his room.

The last one was his best bet—he was too tired for either of the others.

Hake met him at the door and tried to stare him down. “You’re not going anywhere, Josiah.”

The part of Joe that was aware he would have made it if he hadn’t stopped at the coat rack heaved a sigh of relief, because it wanted this confrontation. It wanted something it could actually fight. Actually
beat
.

He stared back. “Get out of my way, Hake.”

“Make me.”

“I could take you down as easy as I can Brent,” Joe sneered.

“But you’re not going to. Your safe word is
red
.”

A tremor ran through him and his heart began to pound. Hake wanted to
fuck
him?

Hake’s mouth curved into a little smile. “I told you you were next.”

Hardly able to drag his gaze away from that smile, Joe looked at Brent, who still sat on the workbench.

He was grinning too. “Go on and take him down, Joe,” he said with a shooing motion. “I got five bucks that says you can’t.”

“That’s it.” Joe tossed his jacket aside. “Get the
fuck
out of my way. Now.”

“You better have that lube handy, Brent,” Hake said without taking his smirking eyes off Joe. “I’m gonna need it here in a minute.”

Practically cross-eyed with fury, Joe reached for him. Hake ducked, but instead of trying to avoid Joe, he grabbed Joe’s knee and yanked his leg out from under him.

Joe barely had time to break his fall with his hands before he found himself on his back in a cradle hold, one knee pulled up to his chest. “The fuck!” he gasped.

“I’ll bet you didn’t know I was the 160-pound wrestling champion at State my senior year, did you?”

“You fuck, you used a ringer?” Joe snarled at Brent.

Brent shrugged. “When you’re in the fight of your life, you use all the dirty ammo you can get your hands on.”

Joe tried to buck free and Hake pulled his knee in even tighter. Fucker wasn’t even breaking a sweat to keep him pinned like this.

“God dammit!” Tears pricked at his already grainy eyes and he closed them, breathing hard as he slumped into Hake’s hold.

“That’s it,” Hake murmured. “Just relax, Joe. We’ve got you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Joe couldn’t even smile. “This is bullshit.”

“I know. Now I’m going to let your leg down, Joe,” Hake said as he eased his hold on Joe’s knee. “Don’t move. I mean it. Just lie here with your eyes closed and relax.”

Then he released Joe from the headlock and let his head and shoulders down on the carpet. Joe thought about rolling over and jumping up, but Hake pressed a hand against his breastbone. “Don’t make me come after you again, Josiah.”

Joe took a shuddering breath and obeyed while the feeling of impending doom hovered at the edge of his consciousness like the darkness just beyond the halo of light from the sodium-vapor lamp. Maybe fucking would keep the darkness at bay a little longer.

Firm hands unbuttoned the cuffs of his cotton work shirt and the buttons down the front, and then urged him up to pull the shirt off his arms. Next came his boots and socks, his belt, and finally his jeans and boxer briefs, leaving him fully naked on the workshop floor. He didn’t have to look to know he didn’t have a hard-on.

“I want you on your knees.”

Hake’s abrupt command did wonders for the hard-on situation, sending a flash flood of hot blood between Joe’s legs as he rolled to his side and then pushed up to kneel. The first thing he saw was Hake’s boots, still mottled from the melted snow.

“Look at me. And open your knees wider.”

His heartbeat accelerating, Joe spread his legs, feeling vulnerable enough already without looking up. But Hake didn’t wait patiently—he grasped Joe’s chin and pulled his face up to bore into him with his eyes.

“You will learn this, Josiah, one way or another,” he said in an implacable tone as he tore open his jeans with his free hand. “You are
ours
. It doesn’t matter how far or how fast you run, or how long you hide—you have bonds with all of us that you
cannot
escape. They’re real and they’re permanent, and running away will only serve to hurt you and us, so I
will
come after you. I don’t care if we’re both ninety—I will bring you back, put you on your knees and stuff my limp, elderly dick into your mouth until you learn this lesson. Now open up—and leave your hands on your thighs or I’ll have Brent hold them behind you.”

Every word out of Hake’s mouth made Joe feel as though he were being both pummeled and skewered by shafts of light. He became weightless, and the darkness stalking him seemed too far away to touch him.

Taking a shaky breath, he opened his mouth eagerly.

Had he ever really known Hake at all?

Brent watched with awe and a zipper-busting surge of arousal as his cousin held his lover’s head and fucked his face ruthlessly. Hake had said he was going to top Joe, but he’d left out the part where he was going to dominate the ever-loving fuck out of him—for the rest of their lives.

When he’d said those words, in that tone—and Jesus, who knew Hake could talk so much?—Brent felt the fear that had been dogging him for so long finally fall away. He really
wasn’t
solely responsible for keeping the man he loved where he belonged. Hake would be there to back him up.

It was an incredible rush, and suddenly Brent fervently hoped Hake would pull him into the scene. 

He got his wish when Joe choked and tried to push Hake away for the third time.

“Since you can’t seem to control yourself, Brent’s going to do it for you,” Hake snapped, holding Joe in place. Then he looked at Brent, who’d already hopped down from the table in his eagerness. “He’ll hold your hands behind you while he fucks you.”

Yes!

Suppressing the urge to fist-pump, Brent mirrored Hake’s no-nonsense attitude as he nudged Joe’s ankles further apart with his boot and knelt between his muscular calves. He was reaching for his buckle when Hake raised a sardonic brow. “Lube?”

Damn.

He fetched the little bottle from Hake’s jacket and was back in place in seconds. He’d just unbuckled his belt and was unbuttoning his jeans when Hake cleared his throat.

He was giving Brent the hairy eyeball. “Hands?”

“Now how the hell am I supposed fuck him if I’m holding his hands before I even get my damn jeans open?”

“Did I say you had to hold his hands with yours?”

Brent narrowed his eyes at him as he pulled his belt out of its loops without comment and wound it around Joe’s thick wrists twice before buckling it. “Are we good now?”

Hake’s expression
almost
managed to not look like a smirk. “We’re golden.”

“Good.”

Brent hurried and got his dick out of his pants before Hake could dream up another way to fuck with him, then set about getting Joe ready with his fingers. It took a few minutes because Joe was still pretty damn tight, but that was all right because Hake was still making a damn fine show of fucking his mouth. He no longer went after the back of Joe’s throat quite as aggressively, but he was talking dirty to him like a pro, telling him how good his mouth felt, how hot it was to see Joe’s moustache framing his dick, how much it turned him on to make Joe choke and see his eyes water, how he couldn’t wait to fuck that magnificent ass after Brent was done with it…

Brent drew a tortured breath. Fuck it. Joe was ready enough.

Tossing the bottle of lube aside, he wiped his hand on his jeans and kneeled up to grip Joe’s shoulder. “Arch your back and stick your ass out a little more, Joe.”

When he complied with a groan, Brent fitted the head of his iron-hard cock to Joe’s asshole and pushed in, provoking a louder groan.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Hake asked Joe, stroking his thick salt-and-pepper hair. “’Cause it sure looks good from here. I know how tight that ass is, and Brent’s a lucky man.”

Too fucking turned on to live much longer without coming, Brent hooked his hands over Joe’s shoulders and began moving in shallow thrusts to open him up more without hurting him. But it wasn’t long before he was pounding him with long, hard strokes that had both of them panting and groaning in chorus. When Brent felt his balls tighten and his thighs begin to shake, he slid his hand around Joe and down to finish him first, jerking him roughly until he lurched forward with a sob. Hake held his head steady with both hands, crooning about how beautiful he was when he came…

That was all she wrote for Brent. He grabbed Joe’s hips and slammed into him with a roar, grinding his teeth as orgasm wrung the come from his nuts in almost painful spurts. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead on Joe’s sweaty back, sucking in air in deep, hard breaths.

“On your back, Brent.”

Too blown away to do anything but obey blindly, Brent pulled out of Joe carefully and collapsed beside him, rolling to his back.

Hake maneuvered Joe around and eased him down by the shoulders until he lay on Brent’s heaving chest, their faces within kissing distance. Brent took immediate advantage, grabbing Joe’s face with both hands and kissing him desperately.

“Love you, Joe,” he whispered against his lips.

Joe lowered his forehead to Brent’s. “Love you, too.”

“Hold on to him, Brent.” Hake got on his knees behind Joe, hard-on in hand. “As I recall, Joe doesn’t much care for being fucked after he comes, but at the moment, I’ve got a pressing need for this ass.”

“Oh fuck,” Joe groaned, closing his eyes. Then he jerked and whimpered as Hake moved in.

Brent wrapped his arms around his lover and held him tight, wishing he could
will
the faith and hope and peace Joe needed into him. “Don’t worry, Joe,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

* * * * *

Finally getting to be the big spoon, AJ lay on the couch with her head propped on a throw pillow and stroked Mandy’s hair lightly enough to keep from waking her. Apart from the Christmas tree, there were no lights on in the living room, and as she watched the flames dance on the gas log and listened to the gritty snow blow against the windows, she got a sense of being very disconnected from the world—and very much alone. It certainly didn’t feel like Christmas, despite the stockings hanging from the mantel and the growing pile of presents under the tree.

When Brent and Hake left to hunt Joe down, she and Mandy had finished frosting the cookies and done the dishes in a much more companionable silence than the one they’d endured while they got supper ready. That had been mostly AJ’s fault and she knew it, but she’d just had too many emotional upheavals in a row and not enough information to be able to process any of them. There was so much she wanted to talk to Mandy about, so many questions she wanted to ask, and Hake’s caring and confidence had gone a long way toward making her believe things would work out happily for all of them, but she just couldn’t let her guard down too much yet. It would be all too easy to get her heart set on another baby—and then have to live with the heartbreak if Joe couldn’t bring himself to let it into his life.

So even though she’d recovered from the initial shock, there hadn’t been any of their usual heart-to-heart sharing while they worked—just occasional questions about where things went when they cleaned up, which AJ often didn’t know the answer to. It felt strange and sad to be in the same room with Mandy and still miss her, and judging by her expression most of the evening, Mandy felt the same way.

That was why AJ had brought her to the living room instead of her bedroom as Hake had suggested. She still wanted to be close to Mandy, snuggle with her and kiss her, but she’d have to be in a lot more secure place emotionally to jump into bed with her without Brent or Joe.