Safe in His Arms (10 page)

What a feeling, to wake up with someone beside him again. Even before Reese had

walked out for good, he‘d pretty much stopped sleeping over. Hank could have kept

the twinks he liked to pick up from the clubs overnight, but he rarely did. Once he was

done using them, he liked to send them on their way.

Why had he been so insistent with Russell? It must have been the dope he‘d

smoked, he told himself, though even as he formed this thought he knew there was

more to it than that.

He shook the water from his face as he surfaced and took a breath, leaning hard

into the butterfly stroke. He still didn‘t understand what had possessed him to suck

Russell‘s cock, yet it had felt so right. Hank Seeley, always the one in control, had felt

this urge, this compulsion, to worship the cock of another man. He hadn‘t just wanted

to make the guy come, he‘d wanted to taste him, to savor him, to please him, to show

his gratitude.

Gratitude! What the fuck? Hank tried to laugh at himself. He must be losing it. He

focused instead on the sex. Now, that was hot. Scorching. Hank wasn‘t used to letting

someone else be the top, but it had been so intense—the way Russell had just taken

over, guiding his massive cock inside Hank, possessing him in a way Hank hadn‘t

experienced before.

Hank was used to rough play, but he was always the one in control. In fact, he‘d

engaged in some pretty intense bondage games from time to time with guys both

willing and not so willing, but he‘d never been on the receiving end. Something about

Russell was different from any man he‘d been with. He was…masterful. Again a word

Hank wasn‘t used to using in reference to someone else, and yet it fit.

Hank reached the side of the pool where Russell was sitting and lifted himself out,

―Watch it, you‘re getting me wet,‖ Russell said, but he was smiling.

Hank leaned closer and shook his wet hair like a dog, laughing as the droplets of

water sprayed the big man. He was caught unaware by Russell leaning suddenly

forward to grab Hank around the waist. Hank lost his footing and fell heavily against

Russell.

―Hey, let me up!‖ Hank cried indignantly.

―I will when you stop acting like a little brat,‖ Russell said, though his voice was

teasing. ―You know what happens to little brats, right?‖ Russell‘s grip was tight, one

massive arm wrapped around Hank‘s waist as he balanced him over his knees.

―Oh, I‘m so scared,‖ Hank teased back. He tried to twist out of Russell‘s grip, but

the man was incredibly strong and Hank couldn‘t quite manage to angle himself into a

better position.

He was shocked when Russell smacked his ass with surprising force, the sting

against wet flesh awakening all Hank‘s nerve endings. It was not a playful swat by any

stretch.

―Hey!‖ He struggled to get up but couldn‘t manage to wriggle out of Russell‘s

strong grip before a second smack landed with equal force. Though Hank knew he

should be outraged, he became aware of his cock, pulsing and growing, trapped against

Russell‘s thighs.

Though he probably could have twisted free, for some reason Hank stayed put,

caught in Russell‘s firm grip, his bare ass raised, his heart beating fast. Russell began a

steady, methodical spanking that covered every inch of Hank‘s ass.

No longer even pretending to try to get away, Hank gave in to the strange, heady

sensations blooming inside him. His cock was trapped between Russell‘s thighs,

growing harder and harder. Juxtaposed with the pleasure of his erection, the bare-

handed spanking rained fire over Hank‘s ass and the backs of his thighs. The

dichotomy of pleasure and pain created a delicious confusion.

Finally Russell flipped him over so his hot, stinging ass now rested in Russell‘s lap.

―I think you needed that, Hank,‖ he said softly. When Hank looked into his face, he saw

the fire in his eyes and felt a matching heat he couldn‘t deny.

Russell took Hank‘s stiff erection in one large hand and stroked him. ―Fuck, yeah,‖

Hank moaned, leaning back against Russell. His touch was rough, almost too rough,

but it was exactly what Hank wanted right then.

He was seconds away from coming when Russell said, ―Ask me for it.‖

Hank took a moment to process what Russell was saying. Ask him for what?

Russell dropped his hand, taking away the exquisite pleasure of his touch. Hank

opened his eyes. ―Don‘t stop,‖ he found himself begging.

Russell recaptured Hank‘s cock in his fist, but said again, ―You have to ask for

permission. Before you come.‖

Hank tried to laugh, but it came out as a groan instead, wrenched from his lips by

Russell‘s perfect grip. Okay, so he‘d ask, if that‘s the game Russell wanted to play. He

nodded and then shuddered as Russell cradled his balls with his other hand and gently

squeezed.

―Fuck,‖ Hank breathed. ―I‘m going to—‖

―Ask first.‖

―Oh…can I come…please…‖

―Yes.‖

Hank‘s orgasm ripped through him and he would have fallen from Russell‘s lap if

Russell hadn‘t kept his arms around him while he milked him dry. As he recovered,

Hank closed his eyes, an unfamiliar feeling of deep contentment stealing over him.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway in front, its door slamming, roused

Hank from his sexual lethargy. Russell‘s arms fell away and he gave Hank a little push.

―Better put something on. Delivery boy‘s here.‖

Hank jumped up and wrapped a towel around his waist. He glanced at Russell,

who was watching him with a small, sardonic smile on his face. Russell‘s face, while not

classically handsome, had power and character, and more importantly, Hank realized,

there was kindness there. A strange sort of yearning tugged at the edges of his

consciousness and some long-sleeping thing inside him opened one eye.

Hank pulled open the door, feeling a little ridiculous in only a jockstrap, which was

how Russell had said he wanted to find him when he came by. But Russell‘s burning

gaze and sensual smile as he looked him over made it worth it.

Russell was wearing a denim work shirt and jeans, scuffed steel-toed work boots on

his feet. His nose and cheeks were sunburned, making the blue of his eyes all the

brighter, but he looked dusty and tired.

―Turn around. Slowly,‖ Russell ordered, embarrassing Hank still further, though he

couldn‘t deny the surge that moved through his cock and balls. He obeyed and Russell

moved close behind him, wrapping him in a strong embrace.

Hank‘s initial thought when Russell said he was coming by and to be ready for him

was how Russell would make love to him. He wondered what hot new ways Russell

would come up with to tease and arouse him. But standing there in Russell‘s arms, a

new thought entered his head.

Maybe it was about time he stood up to the plate and took care of his man for once.

He twisted out of Russell‘s arms and turned to face him. ―How about a hot shower?

Then I have a surprise for you in the bedroom.‖

―Oh, you do, huh?‖ Russell grinned.

―Not what you think,‖ Hank said hastily. ―This is for you. One hundred percent.‖

Russell raised his eyebrows, a skeptical look on his face. ―Oh, really? Let‘s see what

you‘ve got.‖

When he came out of the shower, a small towel wrapped around his hips, Hank

was waiting on the bed. He‘d pulled down the covers and had his supplies ready. He

patted the mattress. ―Lie down here, on your stomach. I want you to relax. I‘m going to

give you a massage.‖

―I could use one about now. Work was brutal today.‖ Russell dropped the towel

and Hank forced himself to ignore the naked man‘s gorgeous cock, or his own rising

response. Russell draped himself over the bed with a contented sigh. Hank straddled

his hips, noticing the sunburn on the back of Russell‘s neck.

It was new, this doing things for others, for Russell. Each time Hank did it, he felt

lighter, as if he were shucking off, link by link, the shackles of a life he‘d created for

himself that had left him weighted down with anger and regret.

He squirted some massage oil onto his fingers and went to work, kneading and

rubbing Russell‘s back, neck and shoulders. Russell was quiet for a while, except for the

occasional grunt and contented sigh.

It occurred to Hank as he worked on loosening Russell‘s thick, knotted muscles that

so far in their relationship Hank had done an awful lot of talking, and Russell did a lot

of listening. He‘d mentioned something with a guy named Jesse, and shared a little

about his dreams for the future, but so often the conversation had segued into Hank‘s

relationships and Hank‘s issues.

―Tell me about your past, Russell. You‘ve mentioned that guy, Jesse. How long

were you together?‖ Hank held his breath, suddenly wishing he hadn‘t asked the

question. What if Russell wasn‘t really over the guy? What if all Russell and he ended

up being was friends with benefits?

―We were together for four years,‖ Russell said. ―But we weren‘t right for each

other, in the end.‖ He paused, adding with a laugh, ―Or the beginning or the middle for

that matter, but I was too thick to see it.‖

Hank didn‘t reply, wishing he could change the subject, relieved when Russell did

it for him. ―That‘s ancient history, Hank. I‘m with you now.‖

Hank beamed, unaware of the happy sigh that escaped his lips until it was already

out. ―Tell me,‖ he said, to distract them both, ―about the brewery thing. Why‘s it so

important to you?‖

―I‘ve always wanted something of my own, Hank. I never liked working for others.

I like to be my own boss and make my own way. I was kind of lost for a long time. I

pretty much fizzled away my twenties making bad decisions and refusing to take

responsibility for myself. When I got the job at the vineyard, Stuart and Vince really

gave me a chance. They trusted me. They took me under their wing and taught me a lot

about the wine business.

―But I came to realize I wasn‘t going to make it, not on my own, not without some

serious capital investment. Then the whole thing exploded with Jesse, and when I got

the chance to leave California and come back home, I jumped on it. The microbrewery

is my next big thing, I guess you‘d say. I really think it‘s going to work too. I‘m saving

to buy into the partnership, and meanwhile Nolan is teaching me the ins and outs of the

business.‖

―But you work so hard,‖ Hank said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. He

couldn‘t deny he resented the many hours Russell was away from him, working all his

jobs it seemed seven days a week. ―Why not let me give you the money for the

partnership? Then you wouldn‘t have to work your ass off all the time.‖

Russell rolled over, knocking Hank from his back in the process. ―Hank. We‘ve had

this discussion before. I am my own man and stand on my own two feet. This is

something I have to do for myself. Thanks, but I don‘t want your money.‖

Hank pressed his lips together. Damn it, he‘d promised himself tonight would be

for Russell, and here he was pressuring him. It was only three weeks into the

relationship, too soon for him to tell Russell what to do. He knew he needed to back off.

―Okay, you‘re right,‖ Hank offered. ―Please, let me finish the massage, okay? I

haven‘t worked on your lower back yet.‖

Russell‘s gaze softened and he rolled back to his stomach. ―Hank I appreciate the

offer.‖ He paused. ―Try to understand. I really want to make it on my own. This is my

dream.
My
dream. It would mean so much less if it was just handed to me on a platter.‖

Hank didn‘t answer.
What
, he asked himself,
is my dream?
He had no answer.

~*~

―Oh, come on. Stay the night. Can‘t you tell them you‘re busy. Better yet, how about

you move in with me and be
my
personal sex worker?‖ Hank laughed but Russell knew

he wasn‘t kidding.

He disengaged himself from the tangle of Hank‘s naked embrace. It was Friday

night and he had a client expecting him, one of his regulars. Though he‘d claimed to

understand and accept Russell‘s decision, Hank had continued to drop hints both subtle

and not so subtle that he thought Russell should get out of the business.

Each time Russell had nipped that idea in the bud. Once the brewery took off, he

might decide to quit, but it would be his decision, not Hank‘s.

This was a new wrinkle, suggesting that Russell move in with him. Though Russell

wasn‘t against the idea of them moving in together eventually, he knew in his bones his

moving into Hank‘s place would never work. And being a kept man? The idea made his

skin crawl.

―No, thank you,‖ he said firmly before heading for the bathroom to shower and

shave. ―You know how I feel about paying my own way and making my own choices.‖