uniform while Jim tugged off his, and they’d done it half-dressed. It had been living the cop-fireman fantasy.
A growling sound from the remains of the studio made Jim take a step back. Wylde stood there, grimy, his hands blistered from pulling out as much as he could salvage. Some of Ken’s finer tools were gripped in one big fist, which he curled as he glared at Jim.
“Jim, I, uh….” How to explain Wylde? Ken felt a little spacey, as if life were moving past him at warp speed and he were standing still.
“Oh.” Jim watched as Wylde dropped the rescued items and pulled Ken against him, his back to Wylde’s front.
“Wylde, it’s okay,” Ken began, covering one of Wylde’s blackened hands, stroking it, seeing that he had cut himself trying to rescue Ken’s work.
In response, Wylde ran a palm over Ken’s T-shirt, straying deliberately over his nipples. Ken’s eyes widened. He felt gutted, but his body responded to the dance of sexual magic against his skin. He was too emotionally played out to fight it, even when Wylde reached down and cupped his burgeoning erection through his jeans, holding Jim’s gaze in a clear message. Mine.
Jim licked his lips, looking more turned on than dismayed. “Um, be seeing you.” He hesitated. “Say, Ken, if you ever want to—”
Knowing what Jim was about to suggest, Ken shook his head vehemently. Wylde would never go for a threesome. He probably wouldn’t even understand it.
Wylde pulled Ken closer, breathing against his neck, his hair covering his face, touching Ken’s exposed skin and sending a hot shivery sensation down his spine, warming him from the chill he felt deep inside.
Panting now, Ken scolded, “You shouldn’t have done that in front of Jim!”
But Wylde only turned Ken to face him, and Ken gripped his head and brought his mouth down, lifting up, kissing….
When they broke apart, Ken rubbed himself wantonly against Wylde’s thigh. He needed, God, he needed. “Take me,” he whispered.
As the fire truck disappeared over the ridge, Wylde hefted Ken in his arms. Ken wound his arms tightly around his neck. He wanted what they’d had in the cave. He’d felt safe there, and he wanted Wylde’s nude body covering him, owning him.
But when Wylde lowered him gently onto the picnic bench outside his cabin, Ken blinked up at his lover, confused by the delay. “Soon, Ken,” Wylde said before disappearing into the cottage.
Ken avoided looking at his studio. He would deal with it tomorrow, along with finding the man who was targeting him. Now….
Wylde reappeared with a bundle made of one of Ken’s dish towels. Without speaking, he handed it to Ken and then lifted Ken back into his arms.
Ken leaned his head against Wylde’s chest, hearing his heartbeat, content to go wherever Wylde would take him.
But he thought he knew just where that would be.
H E WAS kissing Wylde’s neck, unable to stop himself from touching, tasting. He had felt so desolated, and now his body and soul were thirsty for touch.
When he bit Wylde, the bigger man paused. They were in sight now of the meadow below Wylde’s cave. “Now, Ken?”
“Yes, now!” Ken cupped Wylde’s sex when he was lowered to the ground, appreciating the length. He didn’t care if it was rough again, like the night before. He needed that cock inside him.
Wylde opened Ken’s jeans and shoved them down before turning Ken to face a cedar tree. Ass in the air, legs apart, Ken looked over his shoulder with heavy eyes as Wylde pulled out lube and a condom from the sack he’d brought from the cabin.
Wylde hesitated. “I don’t….”
“I’ll put it on you, sugar,” Ken said, turning around to take the plastic disc. He leaned down and licked Wylde’s cock, and Wylde’s hands tightened around Ken’s skull.
He rolled the condom on expertly and then turned around to face the tree again. He was going to be taken, fucked in the wild. Frankly, the idea turned him on, and he was through resisting it.
“Two fingers
A growling sound from the remains of the studio made Jim take a step back. Wylde stood there, grimy, his hands blistered from pulling out as much as he could salvage. Some of Ken’s finer tools were gripped in one big fist, which he curled as he glared at Jim.
“Jim, I, uh….” How to explain Wylde? Ken felt a little spacey, as if life were moving past him at warp speed and he were standing still.
“Oh.” Jim watched as Wylde dropped the rescued items and pulled Ken against him, his back to Wylde’s front.
“Wylde, it’s okay,” Ken began, covering one of Wylde’s blackened hands, stroking it, seeing that he had cut himself trying to rescue Ken’s work.
In response, Wylde ran a palm over Ken’s T-shirt, straying deliberately over his nipples. Ken’s eyes widened. He felt gutted, but his body responded to the dance of sexual magic against his skin. He was too emotionally played out to fight it, even when Wylde reached down and cupped his burgeoning erection through his jeans, holding Jim’s gaze in a clear message. Mine.
Jim licked his lips, looking more turned on than dismayed. “Um, be seeing you.” He hesitated. “Say, Ken, if you ever want to—”
Knowing what Jim was about to suggest, Ken shook his head vehemently. Wylde would never go for a threesome. He probably wouldn’t even understand it.
Wylde pulled Ken closer, breathing against his neck, his hair covering his face, touching Ken’s exposed skin and sending a hot shivery sensation down his spine, warming him from the chill he felt deep inside.
Panting now, Ken scolded, “You shouldn’t have done that in front of Jim!”
But Wylde only turned Ken to face him, and Ken gripped his head and brought his mouth down, lifting up, kissing….
When they broke apart, Ken rubbed himself wantonly against Wylde’s thigh. He needed, God, he needed. “Take me,” he whispered.
As the fire truck disappeared over the ridge, Wylde hefted Ken in his arms. Ken wound his arms tightly around his neck. He wanted what they’d had in the cave. He’d felt safe there, and he wanted Wylde’s nude body covering him, owning him.
But when Wylde lowered him gently onto the picnic bench outside his cabin, Ken blinked up at his lover, confused by the delay. “Soon, Ken,” Wylde said before disappearing into the cottage.
Ken avoided looking at his studio. He would deal with it tomorrow, along with finding the man who was targeting him. Now….
Wylde reappeared with a bundle made of one of Ken’s dish towels. Without speaking, he handed it to Ken and then lifted Ken back into his arms.
Ken leaned his head against Wylde’s chest, hearing his heartbeat, content to go wherever Wylde would take him.
But he thought he knew just where that would be.
H E WAS kissing Wylde’s neck, unable to stop himself from touching, tasting. He had felt so desolated, and now his body and soul were thirsty for touch.
When he bit Wylde, the bigger man paused. They were in sight now of the meadow below Wylde’s cave. “Now, Ken?”
“Yes, now!” Ken cupped Wylde’s sex when he was lowered to the ground, appreciating the length. He didn’t care if it was rough again, like the night before. He needed that cock inside him.
Wylde opened Ken’s jeans and shoved them down before turning Ken to face a cedar tree. Ass in the air, legs apart, Ken looked over his shoulder with heavy eyes as Wylde pulled out lube and a condom from the sack he’d brought from the cabin.
Wylde hesitated. “I don’t….”
“I’ll put it on you, sugar,” Ken said, turning around to take the plastic disc. He leaned down and licked Wylde’s cock, and Wylde’s hands tightened around Ken’s skull.
He rolled the condom on expertly and then turned around to face the tree again. He was going to be taken, fucked in the wild. Frankly, the idea turned him on, and he was through resisting it.
“Two fingers
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