Sexy Saturday 08/22/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, kits and kittens! Tonight I have a special treat from the Vault for you – a story I never quite finished. It’s the start of a sexy little tale starring a detective who’s looking for a serial killer and finds a monster instead…

This is one of those ideas I had that I might eventually flesh out into a full novel, but who knows! I’m still working on my Undertaker story, I have something new cooking about some very naughty gods, and I still have more Tentacles books to write. And witches. And well… And everything else! XD

I do hope you like it! Happy reading!

Warnings: NSFW/serial killer/mentions of murder/sexy times/self-fellatio/possible murder husband type shenanigans/strip club/brief gore

~*~

Detective Michael Zander took a seat at the bar, turning around just in time to watch as Superman flung his cape off into the cheering crowd. Green Lantern was twirling around a pole on the other side of the stage while Aquaman pranced over to entertain some guests in the champagne room.

Another titillating evening at Juicy Bruce’s, and tonight was Justice League night.

Michael had been coming here all week working a case, undercover as a patron and trying to pass as a normal civilian. There had been a recent series of unsolved murders, and all the victims were either male escorts or male exotic dancers from local clubs. Following the perp’s pattern, Juicy Bruce’s was his next target.

They had a vague physical description from one lucky young man who had managed to escape, and Michael was here now to watch and wait, hoping to catch a killer before he could strike again.

“Back again,” the bartender noted when he sat down, already pouring him a shot of cheap whiskey. “How’s it going tonight, Robert?”

“Good, good.” Michael was pleased that the bartender had remembered his drink of choice and his fake name, gulping the shot back with a quiet grunt. “Mmmm, just can’t get enough of all that lovely spandex.”

“Right,” the bartender chuckled, keeping his chin tilted away as he wiped down the counter.

Michael had already seen the scars he was trying to hide, a brutal twist of flesh that dominated the right side of his face and traveled down his neck beneath his collar. A house fire was the cause, he recalled, having run background checks on all the club’s employees.

The bartender’s legal name was William Staffe, but he went by his old stage name;

Vinnie Van Wham.

Vinnie to most, Van to a special few that worked here. No priors, squeaky clean, and he seemed quite shy about his injuries. They’d barely made eye contact since he’d started coming here, but Michael found Van incredibly attractive.

He had warm brown eyes, bronze skin and lush lips, and those long legs that must have looked spectacular wrapped around a pole. His dark hair had been bleached out and changed colors often, and tonight it was a deep forest green.

The scars didn’t bother Michael in the slightest. He had his own from a brush with fire that could rival Van’s, but he could cover his much more easily. Long sleeves in spite of warm weather raised some brows, but it fulfilled a simple function to prevent staring.

Van didn’t have that luxury.

Michael knew he was supposed to be canvassing the club, but he found himself watching Van instead tonight. It was easy to get caught up looking at him, but it wasn’t the terrible scars that held Michael’s attention so.

Van moved along the busy bar with incredible speed, filling multiple drink orders at a time and never once writing one down no matter how large. He was friendly, quick, and had a generous hand with the spirits if he was tipped well. He kept his head tilted away from the customers, only giving them the fair side of face when they spoke to him.

But if they got rowdy or if they were rude, Van would give them the full view of his horrid scars. It was then that Michael realized Van wasn’t ashamed of how he looked. He kept it at bay for the sake of others’ comfort, but he wielded his deformity like a weapon when he needed it.

It was impressive.

The night rolled on, the music a constant hum shaking inside his head. Every song sounded like the next with the bass cranked up to organ vibrating levels, and Michael refocused his attention to search for his suspect.

Tall, white, blond, missing a pinkie.

He had to be here somewhere.

Keeping with the pattern, he was due to take his next victim any day now, and Michael was not going to let that happen. He was tired of feeling so helpless, utterly exhausted with wave after wave of crime drowning his hopes to make the city safer.

Mayfield wasn’t the city Michael remembered from his childhood. It had always been rough around the edges, but now it was a cesspool of crime and violence. Citizens didn’t feel safe, the police were overwhelmed, and the mayor had been discussing putting a curfew into place.

Michael was struggling to do his part to make things better, but there never seemed to be any progress. Half the criminals he arrested ended up right back on the streets, and he wondered to himself what would happen if he was actually able to nab his nine-fingered suspect.

Post bail and go kill again? Flee the city and start killing somewhere else? Just claim he was nuts when he was cutting all those dancers up, end up in some asylum instead of death row?

Would just be easier to stick a bullet in him, Michael thought grumpily to himself.

Van brought Michael another shot as if sensing his distress, flying from one side of the bar to the other as he served up more drinks. There was a group of regulars who greeted him cheerfully, and Van mixed them a batch of margaritas without ever needing to be asked.

“You memorize everyone’s drink?” Michael asked when Van returned to take his empty glass.

“I’m very observant,” Van challenged, a smirk curling his lips as he turned his head to meet Michael’s piercing gaze. “Drinks, quirks, whatever. I’m a regular Sherlock Holmes. I can read people.”

“Oh?” Michael leaned across the bar. “So, you think you could read me?”

“Already read you and filed away from the first night you came in here,” Van scoffed.

“Do tell.”

Van pursed his lips, glancing down the length of the bar for a quick moment. All the customers seemed content, and he turned back to Michael as he replied, “You’re here on business. You never get any lap dances and although you tip the guys on stage occasionally, you’re not watching them. You’re always watching the crowd. Watching them watch the boys. Looking for someone. Definitely not someone you like, someone you hate… someone you’re trying to catch.”

“Not bad,” Michael said, genuinely impressed. “What else?”

“Most likely a cop,” Van said, now turning to face Michael head on. “I’ve seen you checking for a shoulder holster you’re not wearing. Old habit maybe. Plus, all the guys being killed lately and you’re here? Staking the place out?”

Michael raised his glass, knocking it back with a respectful nod.

“I can totally keep going,” Van said with a wink. “All night.”

“I bet you could,” Michael teased.

“Let’s see, hmmm. You’re wearing a Star of David, but I’m not sure if you’re actually Jewish.”

“And why not?”

“Didn’t think alcohol was kosher.”

“On the contrary,” Michael chuckled warmly, “Jews regard alcohol as a holy beverage. We drink wine to celebrate a mitzvah, we drink at weddings and births, and four cups for the first night of Passover. Wine itself has its own special blessing, in fact.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. There was a rabbi named Menachem Posner who once said that alcohol was special because it lowers the body’s resistances and allows the soul to shine through.”

“What if you get drunk and just turn into an asshole? Not really much of a shining soul, huh?”

“We’re talking about drinking in moderation, not getting wasted,” Michael laughed. He raised his glass, asking politely, “Will you drink with me?”

“Wanna see how shiny my soul is, eh?”

“I’d love to.”

Van snorted but poured himself a shot of vodka, raising his glass in a toast. “To shiny souls.”

“L’chaim.”

“Mmm, what does that mean?” Van asked, licking his lips after downing the booze.

“To life,” Michael replied, pushing his empty glass to the side. He didn’t need to drink any more tonight, his senses already buzzing.

“To life,” Van repeated. “I like it.” He had to slide back down the bar to tend to other customers, but he returned as soon as he could and nodded at Michael’s neglected glass. “Need another?”

“No, thanks. I need to think.”

“About your case?”

“Yes.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Van offered. “These guys here are like my family. If they’re in danger, I want to know about it.”

“And what makes you think they are?”

“You being here,” Van responded flatly. “You must have figured out the killer’s pattern and deduced that this place is where he’s gonna strike next.”

“Mmm, good theory, Sherlock.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Haven’t been wrong so far,” Michael said casually. “Hmm… Who knows.”

“So. Who’s your suspect?”

“I would be compromising the investigation if I told you I’m looking for a tall white man missing a pinkie.”

Van knew practically everyone in the club, and his powers of observation were on point. If there was a stranger among them with such a unique injury, he would certainly remember.

Michael couldn’t read Van’s expression, the bartender lost in thought before he finally said, “If I see him, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thanks,” Michael said, disappointed that Van didn’t know their suspect. He watched him dash to the other side of the bar to tend to his customers, and he returned to scanning the crowd to pass the time.

Definitely wasn’t going to be able to think about Batman the same way after watching him twerk on an eager patron’s face.

Van came back again to check on him, pouring him a glass of whiskey from underneath the bar. “Try it,” he insisted. “It’ll help you think.”

“Mm.” Michael took a small sip, pleasantly surprised to find it rich and smooth. “Tastes expensive.”

“It is,” Van chuckled, lightly touching Michael’s arm. “I know it’s almost time to close up, but… maybe you wanna stay?”

Michael stared at Van’s hand, looking back to his face trying to figure out exactly what he was playing at. He found no deceit in the young man’s eyes, only a hopeful desire that he realized he also felt.

Being a cop was hard, the job thankless and gut wrenching at times. And lonely – fuck, was it so very lonely.

He knew then exactly what Van was asking for and he didn’t hesitate to accept, saying, “Yes.”

Van smiled, bright and gorgeous, saying quickly, “Great! Wait for me after closing.”

“I’ll be right here.”

Last call came and went, the dancers taking their final turns around the pole as the club got ready to shut down. There had been no sign of the suspect. Michael was diluting the sense of failure clouding his mind with some more shots, angry that he hadn’t made any progress.

At least he had an evening with Van to look forward to.

The bouncers were clearing out the stragglers, and the music had cut off. The overhead lights flickered to life, the spell of exotic neons and thick fog finally broken. It looked like any other club now, barren and dirty.

Van left the bar to help tidy up and hug some of his coworkers farewell. One of the bouncers was eyeing Michael suspiciously, but Van patted his arm and said something that eased his concerns.

It wasn’t long before Michael realized the club was totally empty, no one else left in the building except the two of them. He hadn’t seen Van for a few moments, turning his head when he heard music beginning to play. It wasn’t the usual thumping bass, but something classical with a heavy stroke of violin.

Van was up on stage, pantsless and barefoot, standing on point beside the pole. He looked relaxed, lifting his arm above his head as his leg rose up beside it. For a beautiful moment, both of his limbs were parallel and pointed to the ceiling in an incredible display of dexterity.

His extended leg swept down to the floor, strong hands grabbing the pole and suddenly swinging himself into the air. He twirled as if propelled by some unseen force, spinning gracefully as his long legs spread wide.

Michael had never seen anyone dance like this, instantly mesmerized. Every single one of Van’s movements flowed seamlessly into the next, slow and perfectly executed.

Van hooked one of his legs around the pole, spinning by the crook of his knee and one hand. His free leg extended outward and up, his back arching as he effortlessly turned his whole body upside down.

Michael couldn’t tear his eyes away from those lovely legs dropping into a full split, much less the enticing way his boxers briefs clung to his round ass. He moved from the bar to keep watching, well aware his jaw was likely hanging open as he stood in front of the stage.

Van’s legs closed and curled around the pole, his body still twirling slowly as he slid his hands down. He righted himself, using only his arms to hang on as his legs again split wide in another devastating display of strength and flexibility.

He clung to the pole like a lover, gracefully winding his body down as his feet finally touched the stage again. He was barely out of breath, smiling sweetly at Michael just as the song ended.

“Wow,” Michael breathed, at a complete loss for words.

“Uh huh,” Van said smugly, slinking to the end of the stage to sit down. He leaned back on his hands and lazily swung his feet. “Fifteen years of ballet. Used to be quite the dancer, you know.”

“Still are,” Michael praised, pushing himself right into Van’s space and holding his hips. “You shouldn’t have ever stopped.”

“Meh, not many guys are into seeing Freddy Krueger prancing around,” Van snorted with a self deprecating laugh. “Scares off the customers. So, I just take a few spins after we close down every night, keep myself in shape.”

“It was… beautiful,” Michael said passionately. “You are beautiful.”

“I can tell you actually mean that,” Van whispered, his lashes fluttering in honest surprise. “My scars… you don’t look through them or away from them… you see me. You really see all of me.”

“Yes,” Michael said, tilting his head forward and nosing along Van’s twisted cheek. He laid a kiss there, murmuring, “And what I see is perfect.”

“Sweet talker,” Van chuckled coyly, though he looked very pleased by the compliment.

Michael slid his fingertips up to the edge of Van’s briefs and gave the band a playful tug. “I only speak the truth, thank you very much.”

“Mmm, that’s something a liar would say.”

“The only lying I’m interested in right now is my body next to yours. On top of yours, maybe beneath it. I’m not picky.”

Van wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck, his teeth nipping at his lip as he purred, “Can’t even wait to get me home, can you?”

“Right again. You really would make one hell of a detective,” Michael drawled, arching up to take Van’s pretty mouth in a searing kiss.

While Van’s dancing had been endlessly graceful, his kiss was anything but. It was savage and rough, tearing into Michael’s lips like he was starving for a taste of him. Teeth clicked, tongues fought, and Michael absolutely loved every fierce second.

Their shirts were removed with equal frenzy, Van pausing his fervor only to caress Michael’s scarred torso and arms with reverence, both of them sharing a deep understanding without speaking a word.

Michael dragged Van’s briefs out of his way, eagerly mapping out the length of his fantastic legs with his hands. The ferocious kiss continued, Van wrapping his legs around him and Michael praying to God he had a condom in his wallet.

Van was impatient, hungry, already opening himself up with spit and urging Michael to get on with it. Michael forced himself to wait the precious few seconds to get the condom on and slick himself up with a small packet of lubricant.

Wrapped and slick, Michael pushed forward, folding Van’s gorgeous body right in half. He loved how flexible he was, supple and literally bending to his every whim. He couldn’t wait to be fully inside of him, grabbing his thighs and watching his cock slowly slip inside Van’s tight asshole.

Van groaned, stretching his legs back until his arms were holding them in place by the bend of his knees. He was folded in a tight little knot, his own hard cock bouncing right in front of his face as Michael began to slam into him.

Michael held him firmly, his hips bucking roughly and setting a thunderous pace that made them both grunt and moan as their bodies smacked together. It had been way too damn long for both of them, their involuntary celibacy evidenced by the eager desperation for every drop of sweaty passion. It was awesome to have such an enthusiastic partner, and Michael was already certain that this was going to happen again if he had anything to say about it.

Van was licking his lips greedily, staring down at his dripping cock and starting to bow his head. There was an odd moment of hesitation, and he stopped halfway to ask in a hushed voice, “Yeah?”

Michael’s eyes widened as he realized what Van was about to do. He had only seen it in videos online and in his own overactive imagination, feeling a renewed lurch of heat in his loins. He groaned, breathlessly urging, “Go on, fuck, Van. Yes.”

Van grinned and immediately wrapped his lips around the slick head of his own dick, his eyes fluttering as he savored his taste. He greedily sucked up the leaking fluids, beginning to bob in time with Michael’s thrusts.

The wet sounds of Van’s tongue and mouth working over his own dick were maddening, and Michael slowed down to encourage him to take his time. He didn’t want this to be over too soon, and he wanted to enjoy the show.

Van’s hands ran over his ass, teasing around Michael’s shaft inside of him before reaching up to squeeze his balls. This was definitely something he had done before, and Michael was totally mesmerized. Van was making an absolute spectacle of himself, sucking himself from root to tip and twirling his tongue around the head.

“Fuck,” Michael hissed.

Van’s eyes flicked up to Michael’s, pulling off of himself with a wicked smile. “Better hurry… I’m getting close.”

Michael growled in reply, resuming his brutal pace and gasping as Van began to suck himself again. Listening to him scream, his cries of pleasure muffled by a mouthful of his own cock, was so fucking hot.

He could feel Van clenching down on him, and he knew there wasn’t much time. He gritted his teeth, the heat in between his legs demanding relief. His thrusting became wild, erratic, every muscle of his body working towards his end.

One of Van’s hands clamped down on MIchael’s hip, his nails digging in as he growled demandingly. He pulled at Michael, rolling his body down to meet each slam and wordlessly commanding a flow of motion that suddenly became an out of body experience. They moved together as if they had done this for decades, their hips slotting together flawlessly and each collision delivering a wave of bliss that made Michael’s entire body ache.

Van’s cries were getting louder, tears and drool running down his face as his head frantically bobbed. He suddenly pulled off, moaning deep as he started jerking his cock, his fingers a feverish blur as he moaned, “Yes, yes, fuck!”

There was no power in the universe that could have made Michael look away from the beautiful debauchery of Van coming on his own tongue.

Van eagerly swallowed it all down and Michael was coming immediately, hissing pleasurably as his body finally released.

Van sighed, satisfied and content, his head falling back against the stage as Michael finished inside of him. He began to unwind from the tight knot he had folded himself into, his legs flopping by Michael’s sides.

Michael held him close, savoring the shudders in his thighs as he leaned down for a kiss. The residue of salty come was a welcome taste. “You are fucking incredible.”

“I know,” Van said with a cheeky grin, bumping their noses together. “You weren’t half bad either, you know.”

Michael snickered, kissing Van once more before pulling away to get them both cleaned up. Cocktail napkins and seltzer water did the trick, and he tossed it all away along with the condom in the trash by the bar. He sat down in a nearby booth and pulled Van in his lap.

“I suppose you’ve already figured out my name isn’t actually Robert,” Michael began, his arms curled firmly around Van’s waist. They were both still naked, and he was in any hurry to get dressed again.

“I suspected as much. But you don’t have to tell me.” Van was grinning from ear to ear. “I already figured out who you are.”

“Oh?”

“You’re the one who took down that drug lord,” Van said confidently. “You are Detective Michael Zander of the MPD. Probably not a good idea to attempt undercover work when you’ve been in the papers so much.”

“Guilty,” Michael chuckled. “Know everything about me, do you?”

“Quite a bit. You’ve also hunted Nemesis,” Van said with a wink. “The state’s most notorious serial killer named after the Greek goddess of divine retribution?”

“I did not give him that name,” Michael snorted, not directly answering the question.

“Ah, confident that it’s a man?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations,” Michael teased, leaning in to snag a kiss.

“How close are you to catching him?”

“Not very,” Michael said with a shrug. “Nemesis is more of a hobby. A hobby for a lot of cops.”

“A hobby?” Van snorted.

“He’s like Hannibal Lecter,” Michael explained. “Bigger than life, too fantastic to be real, and definitely too smart to ever get caught. Everyone wants to be the guy who catches him. Some cops think it’s multiple perps, all copying each other.”

“What do you think?”

“One guy,” Michael said firmly. “Someone with a deeply seated need for justice. Either he was wronged by the system or someone he cared about was. All of his victims have been criminals that have slipped through the courts, whether by mistrial or some other bullshit.”

“Hasn’t he killed innocent people?”

“None of his kills have been innocent,” Michael said, scowling faintly. “Don’t listen to the news. They’re full of shit.”

“What about that teacher he killed? No record, no priors, and a beloved educator.”

“Yeah, and he was a child molester with a stash of fuckin’ kiddy porn we found after he was killed,” Michael drawled. “Several former victims came forward after his death to tell us what he did. Trust me. Nemesis doesn’t kill innocent people.”

“You sound like you admire him,” Van mused, his fingertips dancing up Michael’s bare chest.

“There’s something attractive about being able to take justice in your own hands,” Michael replied honestly. “Especially when you know your perp is guilty? It would be nice to take care of ‘em, make the city a little bit safer without worrying about the courts fucking it up.”

“Like with your nine-fingered fiend?”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “We have DNA, prints, and a witness description. Should be a solid conviction, but all he has to do is try and claim insanity, and he’ll never see death row. That’s not justice for those men that died, not at all.”

“Eye for an eye and all that.”

“Exactly,” Michael said passionately. “Life for a life.” He huffed, a small laugh leaving his throat. “You know, I already know what I’d do if I ever caught Nemesis.”

“Oh?” Van’s brow rose.

“I’d thank him,” Michael laughed. “Probably buy him a damn drink.”

Van was studying him carefully, a bashful grin suddenly curling his lips as he swooped in for a sweet kiss. It was warm and passionate, oozing with emotion and leaving them both breathless.

“What was that for?” Michael blinked in surprise.

“Nothing,” Van said cheerfully. “Just saying thanks for a wonderful evening. I’ve got to get home and crash for a bit before my next shift.” He hopped up, stretching his lean body. “Mm, see you again tonight?”

“I’ll be here,” Michael promised.

They got dressed and parted ways with another kiss, Michael heading home to his apartment and collapsing right into bed. He could still smell Van on his clothes, drifting off to sleep with the sound of violins singing in his ears.

He awoke to his phone ringing incessantly, grumbling as he answered, “Hello?”

“Michael?” It was his captain. “Get your ass down to the warehouse on Fulton Street.”

“What is it?”

“You’re never gonna believe it unless you see it for yourself.”

When Michael arrived to the scene, he realized his captain was right. If he had actually told him what was waiting here, he would have called him a liar.

A tall man was hanging upside down from a chain attached to the warehouse ceiling, his skin flayed down to the bone from his toes to his throat. There was a silver tray with a large pitcher filled with blood, an empty chalice, and all of the man’s fingers lined up in a neat row.

Nine of them.

Michael couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horrific sight, whispering, “It’s the guy. It’s the guy who’s been killing all the dancers. It has to be… but…”

“Elaborate and sick setup?” his captain snorted. “No physical evidence, no witnesses? We both know who did this.”

“Nemesis,” Michael said knowingly, gritting his teeth. “But how? We haven’t released anything to the press! How could he possibly know?”

“I don’t know, but he left you a little love note.”

“Me?” Michael frowned and looked back to the tray.

There was a small card with his name written on it, throwing on a pair of gloves to examine it. As soon as he read what was inside, his heart dropped down into his gut like a stone.

L’chaim

No.

It couldn’t be.

Van was…

“Mean anything to you?” his captain asked gruffly.

“Nothing,” Michael lied smoothly, setting the card back down. “Pretty common Jewish saying for a toast. I must have a fan out there.”

“Or Nemesis thinks you’re a fan of his.”

“Huh.”

Michael refused to give any other response, excusing himself from the scene. His captain allowed it, perhaps thinking he was too shaken up from a monstrous serial killer reaching out to him.

On the contrary, Michael was quite flattered.

He was also very confused.

Nemesis had always been so careful. It was sloppy to reveal himself like this.

Why did Nemesis leave him such an obvious clue?

Was this a test? A threat? Was his body going to end up in its own display?

Or was it something else…

Nemesis was a monster, ruthless and sadistic, a shadowy fiend that parents threatened their children with if they didn’t behave. He had always been this intangible creature and after years of hunting him, Michael finally knew exactly who he was.

William Staffe.

Van.

Van, handsome and sweet Van who had totally and completely rocked his world last night. He recalled Van’s face when he smiled beneath him, how he had managed to look both vulnerable and yet so powerful when he danced…

This wasn’t a threat, Michael realized. It was an invitation.

Michael had told Van he would probably thank Nemesis if he ever figured out who he was. He sat in his car for a long time before he decided he was going to do much more than offer his gratitude.

He stopped by the station to pick up some files on his way home, feeling a noose drop around his neck. The finality of this decision was not lost on him, but he felt absolutely no hesitation.

Michael sat down at his computer in his tiny apartment to do some additional digging, the hour growing late as he searched for more information. He had checked out Van before, but he decided to look deeper.

His theory was that Nemesis had experienced great injustice somewhere in his life, and Michael wanted to find out what it was. William Staffe was squeaky clean, but John, his father, had a much darker past.

John had been arrested for fatally stabbing William’s mother, but he was amazingly never convicted. That same year, Van’s childhood home burned down. This was the fire that left him so disfigured.

It was ruled an accident, some sort of wiring defect, but…

“But, ah, the judge who had thrown out poor Kimberlee Staffe’s case for lack of evidence died the same night,” Van’s voice purred from behind Michael, reading the report over his shoulder. “Brakes were cut, and he had a terribly nasty accident. My second kill.”

Michael heard the click of a gun and froze in his seat. He didn’t even bother questioning how Van got in here, saying calmly, “Your father being the first, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You cut the judge’s brakes and set the house fire to give yourself an alibi? Hmm, a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a bit, but it was also an easy way to cover up my father’s murder-“

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Michael asked suddenly.

“You already have a fascination with Nemesis. Seeing your nine-fingered friend butchered so righteously mere hours after you were so kind as to give me his description? You would be suspicious. You would check the time of death and see that I have no alibi. I couldn’t let that happen.” Van chuckled, tilting his head coyly. “Besides, you said if you met me, you’d want to thank me.”

“Even better than that,” Michael said, gesturing towards the stack of files on his desk. “I want to help you.”

“Help me?” Van quirked his brows. He cautiously thumbed through the files, reading over the reports and keeping the gun pointed at Michael. “Rapist who got off because the prosecutor was drunk, murderer who got out on bail and is already suspected in a new death…”

“All wicked men who haven’t properly been served justice,” Michael said. “Yet.”

“Yet,” Van echoed with a sly smile. “Mm, what makes you think I’d let you assist me?”

“I think there’s another reason you revealed yourself to me,” Michael said, offering his hand to Van. “We see the world the same way. We want to protect the city and keep good people safe, we want justice served… no matter what.”

“There’s no going back after this,” Van warned quietly, a sadness in his smile as he accepted Michael’s hand. “You know there’s only a few ways this path can end. I accepted it long ago, but can you?”

“I know,” Michael assured him, lacing their fingers together. It was another pull on the noose tightening around his neck, his fate now sealed with this beautiful fiend. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“To help the city?”

“Yes…” Michael replied honestly, his gaze dark as he added, “and to be with you.”

“Well,” Van purred triumphantly, lowering the gun at last and bowing his head down to claim a fierce kiss, “I’d say we have plenty of work ahead of us then, don’t we?”

<333

Sexy Saturday 08/15/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, my darlings! Woo! Today is gonna be AWESOME! It’s not only CHC’s one year anniversary, but my one year publiversary since it was my debut novel! I’m so very freakin’ happy, and I can’t wait for the big party next weekend! Woo-woo!

Be sure to stay tuned later this evening for the start of the Cold Hard Cash trivia contest! It’s gonna run all week long because it’s gonna be a toughie!

Now, today’s treat is another steamy look at my current WIP, Last One To Let You Down, my florist and undertaker BDSM romance. I’m at 52k, just hit the halfway point! Yay! I’m hoping this will be out by the end of the year, but in the meantime – enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW/plugs/prostate play/spankings/cock spanking/smut, so much smut XD

~*~

“Tonight is going to be about patience and self-love. I’m going to show you a lot of things that you’ve probably never done before. At any time if you’re not comfortable, do not hesitate to use your safe word.” Cypress held Tom’s chin firmly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom loved Cypress’ strong grip, the fog of his submission already easing his already intoxicated mind. It happened so naturally that he should have been concerned, but he was only excited.

“Come on.” Cypress took him over to bed, patting the comforter. “Bend over here for me.”

Tom obeyed, draping himself over the bed and arching his hips up. He wanted to be spanked, taken hard, and he eagerly awaited for Cypress’ next move.

Cypress spread Tom’s cheeks, pushing his thumbs inward to massage around Tom’s hole. “I’m going to get your little ass ready for my cock. I’m gonna get you good and wet, stretch you out, might even let you come just to help take the edge off…”

“Yeah?” Tom asked urgently. “And then you’ll fuck me, sir?”

“Patience,” Cypress reminded him. He continued to tease and rub Tom’s hole, slipping a hand away to reach into the bedside table drawer.

Tom looked back to see a tube of lubricant and the biggest butt plug he’d ever seen. “Is that… is that for me?”

“Mmhm. Bought it just for you,” Cypress said. “Once I’ve got you good and open, we don’t wanna lose all that hard work, do we?”

“No… no, sir.” Tom was nervous, but Cypress’ firm hands were soothing as they massaged his hips, and he began to relax. “Will it hurt?”

“No,” Cypress promised. “You should only feel pressure. If you feel pain, you tell me. Yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom sighed softly when he felt Cypress’ slick fingers sliding around his hole. Only the tip of one breached him, stretching, teasing, and he felt Cypress’ other hand push his cheek aside.

“Good?”

“Mm, good,” Ted breathed, letting the bed take his full weight now. He was sinking down into the soft fabric and although his cock was hard, it wasn’t an immediate concern. Being touched felt good, and he let out a small sound as Cypress’ finger smoothly pushed inside of him.

Cypress thrusted a few times before easing a second finger in beside the first, pushing in slower to give Tom time to adjust to added girth.

It was all so gentle and slow, and Tom could feel himself opening up. The wet sounds of Cypress’ skilled fingers seemed to sync with Tom’s pants, and he moaned quietly, his toes curling into the rug beneath his feet.

Cypress pushed right against his prostate and rocked his hand in small circles, creating the most delicious pressure as it stretched the full circumference of Tom’s hole.

“Oh!” Tom cried out without meaning to, his hips jerking in surprise.

There was a smile in Cypress’ voice as he crooned, “Do you like that?” He removed the direct pressure for a moment, teasing around Tom’s prostate for a few seconds before pushing back down.

“Ah! Yes!” Tom moaned. “Yes, yes, yes… oh, Cypress… mmmm…”

“Have you ever come like this, Tom?” Cypress asked, shifting back to direct pressure.

“No…”

“Oh, lucky me.”

“Mmph…” Tom could feel that he was leaving a wet spot on the bed despite his cock only being half hard, but he could feel a distant pressure building.

“Patience is key,” Cypress said. “Relax. Take deep breaths. Let it wash over you. Focus on that good feeling and breathe for me…”

Cypress kept saying soothing little things, but Tom didn’t really hear him now. Time had slowed down to a tantalizing crawl, each breath took an eternity, and Cypress’ fingers never slowed. The pressure was growing stronger, and the alternating strokes and direct palpations of Cypress’ touch was doing something to him.

Even though he couldn’t understand Cypress in this strange haze, Tom used the distant sound of his voice as anchor. He stayed relaxed, remained calm, and breathed through the cascading sensations that made him want to sob.

He could feel himself twitching around Cypress’ fingers and deep inside of his loins. The tension was growing more rapidly now, and he was warm. He couldn’t tell if his dick was hard or soft but he could feel so much, and the trembling was now radiating down his legs and up his spine.

“Cypress,” he croaked, his voice cracking.

“Come on, Tom,” Cypress urged. “I can feel you… you’re almost there. You’re such a good boy. My very good boy.”

Tom heard him clear as a bell and that praise created a shiver that snuck down his body to where Cypress was stroking inside of him so relentlessly. The pressure came over him like a tsunami and then suddenly released, and Tom felt the most intense waves of pleasure shaking him to his very marrow as he came.

He howled, he cried, he laughed deliriously – the feeling didn’t stop. It was too much and perfect, and Tom thought he was going to pass out. He’d never come like this, never for this long, and all he could do was blissfully sob, “Yes, Cypress, yes, fuck, yes!”

Cypress’ fingers finally began to slow and released Tom from his orgasmic prison, pulling out gently. “Mmm, there. How was that?”

Tom was pretty sure if his body slid back even so much as an inch, he would melt right down onto the floor in a puddle. He gave a thumb’s up and Cypress draped himself over his back to kiss his shoulder.

“Good boy,” he whispered.

“Thank you, sir,” Tom said when he was able, still feeling little twitches and shudders. “Thank you so much.”

“Toys are much more effective,” Cypress said, “but mmm, I wanted your first one to be all mine.” He picked up the plug and slicked it up generously. “Breathe for me.”

Tom took a deep breath, preparing himself for an intense stretch, but the plug slid in easily. He could feel his hole involuntarily clench around it and bit his lip. It was a little strange, and he had the urge to push down, but the plug didn’t move.

“Spread your cheeks for me,” Cypress ordered. “Let me see.”

“Yes, sir.” Tom reached back to spread his cheeks, burying his face in the bed. He could feel Cypress tracing the base of the plug and arched up into his touch.

“Beautiful.” Cypress was smiling. “Come on. Now that we’ve worked on your patience, it’s time to work on your self-love.”

With Cypress’ help, Tom moved to the center of the bed and rested his head down in the pillows. His muscles still felt fuzzy and strange, and any change in position made the presence of the plug inescapable. It created constant pressure, but it was tolerable when he was still.

Cypress kneeled between Tom’s spread legs, running his hands over his thighs up to his ass. “I am going to give you some affirmations to recite for me. Do you understand?”

“And if I don’t sound sincere, you’ll spank me?”

“Oh, no.” Cypress chuckled. “I won’t spank you unless you do.”

“But… sir…?” Tom’s mind reeled.

“Pain isn’t always a punishment,” Cypress explained. “It can be a reward because the rush of adrenaline that it creates is quite enjoyable. The pain itself can be cathartic, a physical release for any emotional distress that you’re experiencing.” He rubbed his hands over Tom’s ass. “So, do you know what you have to do?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom’s mind had cleared somewhat, the drag of the alcohol cleansed by that intense orgasm. He had to be convincing if he wanted to be spanked – and God, finally admitting to himself that’s what he really was its own victory.

“Now,” Cypress began, “repeat after me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am beautiful.”

“I am… beautiful.” Tom actually smiled. He was sweaty and flushed, his ass stuffed full with a thick silicone plug, and he could not stop smiling because he did feel beautiful. He could feel the ravenous way Cypress was looking at him and-

Cypress cracked his hand across Tom’s cheek, a stinging flash of pain that made him gasp.

“Good boy. Say it again.”

“I am beautiful. I am so fucking beautiful-ah, fuck!” Tom cried out when the next slap made his back arch, and he clenched around the plug.

“I am worthy.”

“I am… I am worthy.” Tom closed his eyes, knowing that no spanking would be coming. He savored the lingering throb from the earlier hits, and tried again. “I am worthy.”

“Why?”

Oh, Tom didn’t have the brain power to do this right now. He whined, writhing against the bed as he panted, “I don’t know… because, because I’m beautiful?”

“Come on.”

“Because…”

“Come on, my good boy,” Cypress urged.

Another pain invaded Tom’s thoughts, but this wasn’t the pleasant burn of freshly spanked skin. It was an echo of the conversation they’d had before dinner, but now Tom knew exactly what to say.

“Because I’m talented. Because I’m smart. Because no one else can do what I fucking do. No one is as good as me, and they never will be because they’ll never care like I do. I’m worthy because there’s no one else fuckin’ like me.”

“What a very good boy,” Cypress purred, rearing his hand back and bringing it down like a hammer.

Tom moaned excitedly, the sting bringing tears to his ears as the warmth spread through his body. Another sharp spank made him whimper, dragging his hands over the pillows and holding on tight. He was getting hard again, his hips restlessly grinding against the bed as Cypress gave him another fierce slap.

Cypress was quick to rub Tom’s burning cheeks, giving him a little squeeze as he said, “You’ve been so very good for me, Tom. Such a very good boy.”

“Thank you, sir.” Tom was positively beaming. He could almost taste the wicked heat coming off his scarlet cheeks.

“Roll over for me. We have one final affirmation to recite.”

Lazily twisting his hips and willing the rest of his body to follow, Tom managed to flip onto his back. He groaned breathlessly from the plug moving as he did so, his cock standing right at attention as he gazed up at Cypress. “I’m ready, sir.”

“This last one is going to be the hardest, so I’m going to alter your motivations.” Cypress took off his underwear and straddled Tom’s hips. “If you are unable to say ‘I am worth loving’, you will be spanked as a punishment.”

Even in this lusty haze, Tom was able to put two things together: one, that was going to be almost impossible for him to say in any manner that would convince Cypress, and two, Cypress was not going to spank his ass in this position.

Cypress used the heel of one hand to pin Tom’s cock against his stomach and confirmed his suspicion. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Repeat after me. I am worth loving.”

Tom inhaled slowly, licked his lips, and said firmly, “I am worth loving.”

Cypress immediately brought his other hand down, popping the underside of his fingers across the shaft of Tom’s hard cock.

Tom yelped, stunned by how unforgiving the sting was, and he moaned as the tender skin there throbbed.

“Well?” Cypress raised his hand.

“I am worth loving,” Tom weakly replied, cringing as he prepared himself to be struck.

Cypress spanked Tom’s cock twice in rapid succession, keeping his heel firmly at the base.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck!” Tom groaned, his back curling off the bed and bucking up against Cypress’ hand, desperate for any friction to counter the pounding in his cock. He clenched around the plug and moaned again. “Fuck…”

“I am worth loving,” Cypress repeated.

Tom closed his eyes, hot with tears, and tried to focus. Beyond his physical appearance and skills, he had so much to give. He was tired of one-sided affairs where he invested everything he had and barely got pocket change in return.

He deserved a relationship with someone where they would take care of each other and lift one another up, challenge and encourage each other and build something to last a lifetime.

He deserved someone to love him back as much as he would love them, and all of his previous partners’ inability to provide that was merely a reflection of their insufficient value…

Not Tom’s.

“Tom?” Cypress pushed again.

“Yes!” Tom cried passionately. “I am worth it! I’ve always been worth it! Always!”

“Yes,” Cypress hissed triumphantly, surging forward to kiss him. “My good boy, yes. That was perfect. So fucking perfect!”

Tom kissed back fiercely, groaning loudly as Cypress removed the plug. He was empty and wet, but Cypress’ cock was right there, gliding inside silky smooth, and Tom sobbed in relief to be filled once more.

He needed movement, something, anything, and he begged, “Please fuck me! Cypress! Fuck me, God, please!”

Cypress took him fast, hard, a brutal pace that ended with Tom’s legs up on his shoulders and him screaming Cypress’ name until he came inside him and finished Tom off with a few quick pumps of his hand.

As they both drifted back down from the heights of bliss, they held each other close and traded breathless kisses.

“So,” Tom panted. “Cock spanking. That’s a thing.”

“Did you like it?” Cypress smiled happily.

“Very much.”

“Just wait ‘til I bust out my riding crop.”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny.” Tom rolled his eyes, but then he realized Cypress didn’t appear to be joking. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

<333

Sexy Saturday 08/08/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, kits and kittens! I’m so excited for August! So many fun things happening this month! My new release, Acsquidentally In Love, comes out on the 25th! Woo woo tentacles and mystery shenanigans! And starting on the 21st, we’re going to celebrate something very special all weekend long – my one year publiversary! Yup, that’s right! Cold Hard Cash turns one this year!

I can hardly believe it’s been a year already. It’s amazing. There’s going to be fun trivia, exclusive contests, and a bunch of amazing authors are all coming by on the 22nd to party with us! Also, no spoilers… but maybe brush up on your Beauty and the Beast knowledge if you wanna score some of those awesome Cold Hard Balls. <333

Now – for today’s treat, we’re checking in with Tom and Cypress again. Tom has come to visit Cypress at the flower shop, and things are taking a very sexy turn! Happy reading, my darlings!

Warnings: NSFW/spankings/handjobs/blowjobs/semi-public sex? XD

~*~

“Have you ever been spanked, Tom?”

“What?” Tom squirmed at the question, and he could feel heat stirring between his legs. “I mean, sure, I guess? Yeah. Can we focus?”

“That sounds like a ‘no’.”

“But I just said yes.”

“I’m not talking about someone giving you a little love tap while you’re doing it doggy,” Cypress said, flashing a big grin. “I’m talking about you getting bent over someone’s knee and fuckin’ spanked.”

Tom could feel his face prickling with a vivid blush, finding it all too easy to imagine Cypress doing exactly what he’d just described. “Then no… I… I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Tom’s guts lurched like he’d just taken a big dip on a roller coaster, and he tried to think clearly. He was supposed to be getting the money and going right back to the funeral home, maybe getting Cypress’ phone number.

The only thing consuming his thoughts now was Cypress getting his hands on him, and he could not explain why that was so exciting. He should say no. This was too fast, too crazy, and yet…

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

It wasn’t a refusal or acceptance, but at least it was honest. His traitorous cock was getting hard and had absolutely nowhere to hide in his thin scrubs, and Tom groaned when Cypress grinded their hips together.

“All you have to do is tell me to stop,” Cypress said, his voice a rolling purr. “If you don’t like it or if it hurts-“

“Wait, you’re going to… right here?” Tom gasped.

“That’s the plan.”

This was almost as bad as screwing around in the hallway. The risk of someone walking in on them was somewhat minimized with the closed sign up, and Tom couldn’t fathom why that seemed disappointing.

“What about the money?” Tom demanded, trying to keep himself from sinking down too quickly.

“Let’s see how you take your punishment first,” Cypress said. “Then we’ll talk about the money.” He tilted his head, kissing down Tom’s cheek to his neck. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Tom…”

“Yes,” Tom hissed, the sensation of Cypress’ hot breath making him shiver and his hips buck. “I know… I know I am.”

“You wanna stop, don’t you? You wanna be a good boy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Tom replied urgently.

“Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, it’s not worth ruining the rest of your life over.” Cypress began to slide a hand down the front of Tom’s stomach, the tips of his fingers teasing along the stiff shaft of his cock.

“I know. I know,” Tom pleaded. “I wanna stop. I don’t… I don’t wanna do it anymore.”

“Then stop,” Cypress said, boldly squeezing Tom’s cock. “Be a good boy for me and make today the very last time.”

“Yes…” Tom moaned quietly, rocking up into Cypress’ hand. Yes, a good boy. That’s all he wanted. He didn’t want to lie or steal anymore, he just wanted to be good.

“Yes, what?” Cypress prompted.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” Cypress said, pressing a light kiss to Tom’s lips. “Now, turn around and drop your pants. Let me see that cute little ass.”

Tom’s hands were weirdly numb as he reached down to untie the drawstring of his scrubs. He waited until he’d turned around to drop them, the light fabric pooling down around his ankles. He started to pull his underwear down, but Cypress gently nudged his hand.

“Not yet,” Cypress said, palming Tom’s round ass through his boxers. “We’re gonna start nice and slow with these still on. Okay?”

“Okay…” Tom braced himself against the counter, hands clamped down, and every muscle was wound up tight enough to snap.

“Mmm, relax.” Cypress draped himself over Tom’s back, his beard tickling Tom’s neck as he whispered in his ear, “Come on. Take a deep breath for me. If you’re tense, it’ll hurt.”

“Isn’t it supposed to?” Tom asked, inhaling shakily.

“Not like that. Not yet.”

Tom took a deep breath, his skin buzzing faintly. He took another as he tried to will the tension in his body to ease. He focused on Cypress’ hand on his ass, warm and firm, rubbing in lazy circles.

There, one more breath, and he was starting to finally-

Cypress’ hand jerked back and slapped Tom’s ass.

The force was enough to make Tom jump in surprise, and the quick tingle of pain tore a gasp from his lips. Cypress’ hand quickly returned to start rubbing where it had just struck, and Tom melted into his soothing touch.

The exchange of pain and pleasure happened so quickly that it made Tom’s head spin. His cock was painfully hard and the lick of shame crawling up his back wasn’t enough to dissuade it. This was okay, he could enjoy it, it was gonna help him be good.

“Good?” Cypress asked quietly.

“Yes, sir… I want… please do it again.”

Cypress’ hand came down with more force, and God, Tom *moaned*. This one was hard enough to leave his skin stinging even as Cypress tried to rub it away, and he was overcome with a sweet rush of endorphins.

Again, Cypress spanked him.

Tom let out another loud moan, his hips unconsciously grinding into the counter to work off some of the building tension. “Oh, my God… fuck… Cypress.”

Cypress slid his hand inside Tom’s underwear, squeezing his bare cheek. “You’re doing so well, Tom. Such a very good boy. I think you’re ready for some more, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom replied eagerly, smiling as Cypress pulled his boxers down. He’d always been shy about his body, secretly wishing he could lose the youthful pudge from around his hips and his stomach.

He didn’t even like undressing with the lights on at home, and here he was, ass right out in the middle of Cypress’ flower shop. Maybe it was the way Cypress was groping him so greedily or the hungry gaze that was currently fixed on Tom’s backside, but Tom actually felt sexy.

He had never experienced a rush like this, an intense cloud of euphoria that was better than any lay he’d ever had. It was like coming except he hadn’t popped off yet, and what he could feel building had the potential to be mind shattering.

Cypress grabbed Tom’s hip and swung back, his hand snapping across his ass with a loud and satisfying smack.

Just the sound of bare skin colliding was fantastic, and the first sharp lick of pain made Tom’s knees buckle. He bowed his head down on the counter, breathing through the following throb. He could feel his pulse thudding away in his sore cheek and his dick, begging, “Yes, that, please, spank me again!”

Cypress growled, digging his fingers into Tom’s cheek before slapping his ass again. “There you go. Just like that. Good boy, such a very good boy.”

Tom’s hips hit the edge of the counter, his hands scrambling over the smooth surface for something to hold onto. He managed to grab the far edge, arching himself up. “I’m good,” he whispered, chanting it over and over again. “I’m good, I’m so good.”

Alternating between brutal spankings and gentle rubs, Cypress’ hands never quit moving for more than a few seconds. Just when Tom didn’t think he could handle another spanking, Cypress switched cheeks and began anew.

“You take it so well, Tom,” Cypress praised after a particularly hard smack made Tom cry out. “I bet you’d like it if I spanked your cock, too.”

“Mmmphhh.” Tom couldn’t exactly identify the sound he’d just made, but thinking about this delicious burning pain right there on his dick was ridiculously stimulating. “Yes, that, please. I wanna do that.”

“Easy,” Cypress cautioned, positioning himself behind Tom and reaching around to touch his dripping cock. “Gonna learn to walk before you can run.”

As Cypress’ fingers curled around the base of his dick, Tom moaned excitedly. He couldn’t believe how wet he was, and Cypress’ strong grip felt amazing. His orgasm was dangerously close, his balls tight and begging for release.

His cheeks felt raw rubbing against Cypress’ crotch, and the new level of sensitivity he was experiencing was addicting. He was there, right about to come. He could taste it, waiting for the rush to overtake him, and he hissed as Cypress suddenly stopped.

“Now,” Cypress whispered, his lips brushing over Tom’s ear, “you wanna be a good boy, don’t you?”

“I wanna come!” Tom begged, slapping his hand down on the counter. “Fuck! Please!”

“Only good boys get to come,” Cypress warned. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? Hmm?”

“I… what…?” All Tom could think about coming, and he had no idea what Cypress wanted him to say.

“From now on, I expect you to let me know when you’re stopping by.” Cypress squeezed Tom’s balls, giving them a sharp tug. “Do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!”

“And I expect you to keep standing up for yourself,” Cypress went on, his fingers curling back around Tom’s cock and stroking him again. “You need to stop selling that formaldehyde shit, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom groaned, his breath coming in and out in short gasps as he felt his orgasm starting to build again.

“I don’t know how you got yourself into that shit, but it ends now,” Cypress ordered, jerking Tom off faster and faster. “I don’t date criminals, okay?”

Date – wait, Cypress wanted to date him?

That thought came and went as Tom got lost in his sudden climax, crying out as he came. His hips rocked erratically, his cheeks still burning, and the flood of pleasure made his vision blur.

“Good boy,” Cypress growled, withdrawing his hand and licking away Tom’s come. “Mmm…”

Tom nearly broke his neck trying to turn around to watch, captivated by every luxurious swipe of Cypress’ tongue. “Holy shit.”

“Good?” Cypress asked, dragging Tom up into a warm hug and kissing him deeply.

“So good!” Tom gushed, hugging Cypress’ neck. He went back in for another juicy kiss. “Definitely got me all come-stupid again.”

“It’s a good look for you.”

“Yeah?” Tom couldn’t stop smiling.

“Mmhm.” Cypress rubbed Tom’s back, his hands sliding down to gingerly palm his ass. “Feel okay? Wasn’t too much?”

“No.” Tom huffed out a short laugh. “It was… it was great. I’ve never…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. “You know, this. I’ve never done any of this, before.”

“I know,” Cypress soothed. “You’ll learn.”

“Don’t you wanna…?” Tom’s eyes flicked down to the obvious bulge hiding beneath Cypress’ apron.

“Is that you offering?” Cypress reached to palm himself. “Because I’m definitely not gonna turn down another taste of that hot little mouth of yours.”

“Fuck. Yes.” Tom dropped down so quickly that he thought his knees were going to pop out of place. He pushed Cypress’ apron out his way, watching him unbutton his jeans to free his thick cock.

As soon as Cypress presented it to him, Tom swallowed every inch right down without hesitation. Cypress tasted just as good as before, and Tom loved how he ran his fingers through his hair as he sucked him hard.

“Good boy, go on,” Cypress urged. “There you go… suck that cock.

Tom got his lips good and wet to ease each thrust into his mouth, moaning when Cypress pulled his hair a little tighter. The pace was picking up fast, faster than before, and Tom closed his eyes as the head of Cypress’ cock began to slam into the back of his throat.

“Uh-uh,” Cypress grunted. “Look at me.”

Instinctively, Tom squeezed his eyes even tighter. He could feel that he was flushed, drooling, and tears were about to fall at any second from getting face fucked so hard. He probably looked ridiculous, and a coil of shame twisted up in his belly.

“Look at me,” Cypress repeated, thrusting harder and giving Tom’s hair an impatient tug. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you make me come. Come on… be a good boy.”

Good boy, yes. Tom wanted to be so good. He finally opened his eyes, blinking through the years to look up at Cypress and was immediately glad that he did.

Cypress’ brow was wrinkled ever so slightly in concentration, his lips parted and baring his teeth as he panted, and his eyes – God, those gorgeous eyes – were staring down at Tom with such affection and desire that he almost choked.

So distracted by the intense gaze, Tom did end up gagging a little when Cypress came. He swallowed quickly, greedily bobbing his head as he took it all while listening to a sweet litany of praise.

“Such a good boy, such a very good boy. You suck cock so fuckin’ good, fuck, I can’t believe you made me come so fuckin’ fast.” Cypress pulled out slowly, grabbing his dick and rubbing it over Tom’s lower lip.

Tom let his mouth hang open as he caught his breath, shuddering as Cypress’ cock played over the little cut Mrs. Keenan had given him. The pain was so far away, and he smiled from ear to ear. “Mmm… was I really good, sir?”

“You were amazing,” Cypress said, petting Tom’s hair and getting all zipped up again. He offered his hand to help Tom up, soothing the sting with a soft kiss. “Mmm, absolutely amazing.”

<333

Sexy Saturday 08/01/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, kits and kittens! Still trying to sort out a new name for the group (Mindless Shelf Indulgence is making me crack up so hard – though it might only be because it’s a play on Mindless Self Indulgence, one of my favorite bands!). If you have any suggestions, feel free to drop them in the comments! I’m hoping to pick a new name by August 19th!

Now, I’m currently on chapter 5 and 16k into Last One To Let You Down (Undertaker/Florist), and I’ve finally gotten to the first round of good stuff… the smut! Enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW/oral sex/DS themesss

~*~

“Good boy,” Cypress said as he pulled Tom back in for another kiss. He let go of his hair, reaching for his hand and guiding it over his crotch.

Tom could feel how hard Cypress was through his jeans, and he squeezed. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on him, and his own excitement was building. He hadn’t been out on a date in months, and he barely had enough time to rub one out in the shower without it feeling like a chore.

His own rising arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn’t get enough of Cypress’ hot mouth. He moaned against Cypress’ lips as they traded tongue and quick nips, positively breathless as he asked, “Now?”

Cypress grunted, his big hands grabbing Tom’s hips to hold him in place. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“What? Blow you?” Tom was startled, and he suddenly felt insecurity prickling up his spine. “Look, if you don’t want me to or whatever, I get it. I’m not your type, fine, but you can’t call the cops-“

“Oh, no,” Cypress assured him. “I definitely want you. Though I can’t say I have a type per se, I’m absolutely down to have you right here, right now… but there need to be rules.”

“Rules?” Tom didn’t understand. “I suck your dick, you keep your mouth shut.”

“If at any time I get too rough or start to hurt you, tap my leg twice to stop me.” Cypress kissed him. “Do you understand me?”

“Why, why would I want you to stop?”

“You’ve never had anyone do this, have you?” Cypress asked bluntly. “You’ve never given yourself to someone before, hmm?”

“I mean, I’ve had… I’ve had sex before!” Tom hated how he started to blush. “I know what I’m doing!”

“Tell me then. What will you do if I get too rough?”

“Tap your leg.”

“How many times?”

“Twice!” Tom was getting frustrated, and he had the oddest feeling he was getting himself into something he wasn’t ready for. He didn’t care. He wanted Cypress.

He needed some kind of outlet for all of the frustrations, anger and resentment that had been building up inside of him al day. He was helpless to stop Junior from tormenting him, he couldn’t stop Mrs. Keenan from hitting him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not that dead kid had ever lived long enough to have his heart broken.

Cypress was studying Tom’s face and after a moment, he loosened his grip. “Go on then. Show me how much you want to be a good boy for me, Tom.”

Dropping to his knees, Tom’s hands pulled at Cypress’ jeans. It was like a switch had been flipped, and all of the brewing worries he’d had were being consumed by a passionate cloud. He didn’t have to think about anything else except getting Cypress’ cock in his mouth and showing him that he knew exactly what he was doing.

There was a part of him within the lusty fog currently invading his brain that couldn’t quite believe he was actually doing this, but there was no turning back now. He’d fantasized about having Cypress for weeks, and there was something so deliciously naughty about what they were about to do.

They were at his work. Anyone could walk in on them. They might get caught.

The forbidden element made it even hotter, and Tom groaned quietly in appreciation when he discovered that Cypress wasn’t wearing any underwear. A quick tug of his jeans and his cock was out, thick, uncut, the glossy head already damp with a dribble of precome.

He seized the base of it with one hand and immediately began to feed it into his mouth. He didn’t stop until it hit the back of his throat, pulling off to dive back in again with a loud slurp.

“Mmm, look at you,” Cypress murmured, dropping a hand down into Tom’s hair. His length flexed against Tom’s tongue, and he groaned loudly. “Who knew the shy little undertaker loved sucking cock so much, hmm?”

Cheeks burning from the accusation, Tom kept going. He kept up a heavy suction, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue up and down the shaft of Cypress’ fat cock. He did love this, and he couldn’t deny it. The heat, the girth, the easy way it slid in and out of his mouth, slick from so much spit.

Cypress’ fingers had tightened in his hair, but he wasn’t pulling or tugging. He seemed to be watching, waiting, gauging what Tom could do.

If this was his only chance to have Cypress Holmes, Tom was going to give it everything he had. He opened his jaw as wide as he could, keeping his lips tight as he started sucking faster, harder. The sharp gasp he heard in reply made him shiver, and it spurred him on.

Tom was hard, his own cock tenting the front of his pants. There was a flood of adrenaline making him feel tingly and hypersensitive, his pulse pounding relentlessly in his ears. He had to reach down and palm himself, grinding into his hand to get some relief.

“Pull it out,” Cypress commanded suddenly. “Let me see you.”

Tom couldn’t explain why that seemed so dirty, especially when he already had Cypress balls deep in his mouth. He whined, hesitating.

“Pull it out,” Cypress said again, his grip in Tom’s hair now teetering on painful, “or no deal.”

“Mmm…” Tom whimpered.

“You want to be a good boy, don’t you, Tom?” Cypress taunted. “Come on. Show me. Show me much your like this.”

Whimpering again, Tom obediently unbuttoned his pants and exposing his hard cock.

“Good boy,” Cypress praised. “See, wasn’t that easy? That’s all you have to do be good. You just have to listen to me.”

It was so simple, so easy, and the immense rush of satisfaction Tom felt coming over him rivaled the thrill of a family saying they wanted to keep the casket open after he’d worked his magic.

“Go on and touch yourself, hmm?” Cypress urged. “Jerk yourself off while you suck me.”

Tom’s hand slowly began to work over his dick, short pulls to make it last, grunting as Cypress began to boldly thrust into his mouth. He let himself be used, closing his eyes as he took it all.

This must have been what Cypress was worried about; hurting him, choking him up with his big dick.

The wet sounds of Cypress’ cock fucking his face were so loud, and the only other thing Tom could hear was the thumping of his own pulse inside his head. He liked this. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted Cypress to take what he wanted, and he found himself desperate to taste his load.

He could feel himself drooling now, spit running his chin, savoring the smooth texture of Cypress’ cock gliding so effortlessly over his tongue. He began to stroke himself faster, alarmed at how wet he was. Pumping into his hand created yet another filthy moist sound, and he was getting so close.

“You’re gonna come from sucking my cock,” Cypress growled, digging his fingers into Tom’s hair and pulling him down on his dick. “You’re gonna come like a pretty little slut, letting me fuck your tight little throat.”

“Mmm!” Tom moaned, lost to every nasty word – why did being called a slut make him so hot. Why did he like that kick of humiliation so much?

“Here it comes,” Cypress warned, bucking forward and holding himself as deeply as he could. “Ah, ah, coming, I’m fucking coming.”

Tom held on, tensing as the back of his mouth was flooded with a hot wave of come. He could feel it going down his throat, swallowing greedily, and he moaned as Cypress pulled out just enough to direct the next splash over his tongue.

Lazily fucking his mouth, Cypress continued to speak, his voice a breathless little whisper, “Such a good boy. Such a very good boy… swallow it all down, every drop… come on, make yourself come now. I wanna watch you bust all over yourself.”

The pressure inside of Tom’s body twisted up until it hurt, his hand a blur on his dick as he stuttered and twitched. There, he was coming, coming hard, splashing all over his fingers and his shirt, pulling off Cypress’ dick to gasp for breath.

He felt drunk, heavy, staring up at Cypress as if seeing him now for the first time.

Cypress looked so calm, so very handsome, and as the last echoes of pleasure left Tom’s body, they were both smiling from ear to ear.

Damn, that was good.

Tom couldn’t remember when he’d ever made himself come like that, and he was definitely adding this tryst to very top of his spank bank vault. His lip was positively throbbing, but to see that satisfied glow on Cypress’ face and know he was the cause of it?

Worth it.

“Come here,” Cypress commanded, reaching for Tom’s hands and helping him back up. He kissed him, gently, letting it linger.

Tom stroked Cypress’ chest and melted as his thick arms wrapped around him. It felt so good to be held, and he sighed contentedly. He was safe here, happy, and he didn’t want this to end.

Maybe Cypress would magically forget what he’d seen since Tom had given him such amazing head. Maybe they could just pretend that never happened, and he could just go on sucking his dick for the rest of his life.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” Cypress prompted suddenly.

Shit.

So much for that idea.

<333

Sexy Saturday 07/18/2020

Hey, kits and kittens! Writing has been a bit slow this week while I work on all the interviews and nifty guest posts for my upcoming blog tour for my new release, Acsquidentally In Love – comes out August 25th! Woo woo!

In the meantime, I’ve read all your comments and poll replies and messages and well… a certain embalmer named Thomas Hills and a florist named Cypress Holmes want to say hello. <333

Enjoy this tiny little teaser from my current WIP, a BDSM tale of a young embalmer surrounded by death and the man who will help him set him free!

Warnings: NSFW-ish

~*~

“It depends.”

“Well, uh, what do you think you saw?”

“I saw you giving a guy a big ol’ case of embalming fluid and taking some cash,” Cypress replied, casually leaning against a cot.

Tom’s heart began to pound.

“And I happen to know that embalming fluid can be used in some very nasty ways,” Cypress went on, toying with the cot cover and glancing over the embroidery.

“Oh?” Tom felt sick.

“Like dipping cigarettes in it and then sellin’ ‘em. Pretty illegal, I think.” Cypress tugged on the edge of the cover. “It can cause some pretty bad hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia-“

“Look! Okay, I get it!” Tom advanced, curling his hands into tight fists. “Just, just stop! I know it’s bad! Okay, I fuckin’ know!”

“Then why are you doing it?” Cypress asked plainly, unflinching.

“I can’t… I’m not telling you that.”

“Well, I guess you can explain it to the cops-“

“No! Wait! I’ll do anything, okay?” Tom pleaded. “Please, fuck! Don’t! I need this job. I can’t lose this fuckin’ job. Working here is my life!”

“Anything?” Cypress mused, tilting his head as he looked Tom over. “Well, that only works if you think you have something to offer up.”

“What do you want? Money?” Tom scoffed, huffing in frustration.

“Well, you did just take a very serious stack of cash. I am a pretty big fan of money.”

“I can’t give you that! It’s for-“ Tom stopped before he said too much, quickly correcting himself, “It’s not even mine, okay? I can’t do that. I don’t have any money to give you. There has to be something else.”

“Right. How about you just drop down on your pretty knees right now and suck my dick then?” Cypress rolled his eyes.

Tom felt a sudden surge of heat, and he stared at Cypress’ crotch as his mouth reflexively watered. He’d heard Cypress say that many times before, and Tom knew he was probably joking.

But if that’s really all it would take…

“Fine,” Tom muttered through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”

“Come on,” Cypress was still chiding him, apparently deaf to Tom’s offer. “You really don’t expect me to believe that you don’t get some kinda cut from that-“

Tom raised his voice, snapping, “Hey! I said, I’ll do it!”

“What?” Cypress blinked.

“Suck your dick,” Tom replied, already starting to kneel before he could change his mind. He’d had some pretty rough one night stands before. This wasn’t so different. He could do this, get Cypress off his back, and stay out of jail.

“Stop,” Cypress said, his thick hand grabbing Tom’s shoulder.

“What?” Tom was instantly embarrassed. Oh, this was such a stupid idea. He should have never even suggested it. As Cypress held him in place, the very air around them felt charged. He looked at Cypress’ lips, felt the heat of his grip, and he knew something had shifted between them.

Something was happening and fast.

Tom’s face was getting hot, and he gasped when Cypress pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

The brewing energy ignited instantly, and Tom was helpless in Cypress’ powerful embrace. He gave himself over completely, groaning loudly when Cypress’ tongue slid inside his mouth. The kiss was deep, hot, and it sent all the right signals to every inch of Tom’s body.

“You’re not sucking me without at least first fuckin’ kissing me,” Cypress murmured, his fingers raking through Tom’s hair and holding him firmly. “You got it?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, panting hard. The way Cypress was so boldly taking charge had no right to be this hot. He’d had some bossy lovers before, but not a one could compare to the dominance that Cypress was exuding right now.

His reserved attitude had been swallowed up by a hard gaze and an unrelenting aura. Impossibly, he even seemed taller than before, and no one had made Tom’s knees quake like this with just a kiss.

“Now,” Cypress said firmly, “you’re going to suck my cock and swallow down what I give you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Tom gasped sharply when Cypress’ grip tightened in his hair.

“Yes… what?” Cypress challenged expectantly.

Tom wasn’t sure how, but he knew immediately what to say, shivering as he replied:

“Yes, sir.”

<333

Sexy Saturday 07/11/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, my lovelies! I’ve finished my current WIP, and it’s almost time to start on my next naughty adventure! Hard Earned Cash is still doing AWESOME on the top 100 – thank you all so much for all the sweet reviews! Woo!!!

If you haven’t left one yet, it’s never too late! Even just a few words is such a huge help for any author, and I would appreciate it so very much! <333

Now, here’s a sweet little teaser from the upcoming CHC Collection – fingers crossed that my publisher accepts it soon! I can’t wait for you guys to read all of Jimmy and Cold’s sexy little adventures!

Warnings: NSFW?/teasing/domestic bliss

~*~

“Some of the best aphrodisiacs contain a very high concentration of zinc,” Cold was explaining as he cooked. “The zinc boosts your testosterone levels, and…” He turned around to glare at Jimmy, raising his spatula with a scowl. “Jimmy, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Eh, sort of?” Jimmy replied honestly, beaming sweetly from his perch at the kitchen counter. “You in that cute little apron is a pretty powerful aphrodisiac, you know.”

“The apron?” Cold scoffed.

“It’s distracting me.”

“I don’t want to get my clothes dirty,” Cold snorted. “Eat your chocolate.”

Jimmy snickered, picking up one of the chocolate truffles Cold had bought for him and taking a big bite. He moaned loudly, instantly in love with the rich taste and smooth texture. He didn’t even want to know how much Cold had paid for these, but God, were they delicious.

Jimmy had requested a lesson in aphrodisiacs, and Cold was more than happy to oblige. He insisted on preparing the meal personally, and Jimmy was soon surprised to learn that the fearsome Boss Cold was quite the aspiring chef.

“Chocolate can stimulate a spike in dopamine, and it has citrulline that increases the nitric oxide in your body,” Cold went on, smirking as Jimmy continued to make happy little sounds while eating. “It improves your blood circulation and allows for a much faster rate of arousal.”

“Oh, it’s definitely arousing,” Jimmy giggled, his appetite threatening to finish the whole plate of truffles in moments. He took a sip of the wine Cold had selected to accompany the meal, asking brightly, “Mmm and this?”

“Pinot noir pairs well with salmon,” Cold replied, “and it’s alcohol, which triggers certain reactions in the hypothalamus. That’s the part of your brain that regulates many important bodily functions.”

“Right.” Jimmy nodded, taking a long sip. “Like body temperature, sleep patterns, hunger…”

“And libido,” Cold added with a wink.

“You really took this aphrodisiac lesson seriously, huh?” Jimmy laughed, snatching up the last truffle and swallowing it down with the rest of his wine.

“I take most things seriously, but especially cooking,” Cold said with a short chuckle, returning his full attention to the stove. He was focused now, his brow furrowed in concentration as he added a few more spices to one pan and stirred another.

Jimmy smiled as he watched his boyfriend laboring away to create the perfect meal for them. He couldn’t quite explain it, but observing Cold’s impressive prowess in the kitchen was incredibly sexy. He wondered if it was all the magical chemicals that he had imbibed thus far that were making him feel so suddenly amorous.

Perhaps it was simply the sight of his beloved gangster being positively domestic.

Maybe it was the apron.

Whatever the reason, he couldn’t sit still any longer. He grinned, leaving his spot at the counter and sliding up behind Cold, hugging his waist.

“I’m cooking,” Cold said grumpily, but he made no movement to stop him.

Jimmy’s hands slid under the apron, finding the zipper of Cold’s slacks and tugging. “Smells good,” he commented innocently. “This is the zinc filled goodness that’s gonna boost our testosterone levels?”

“It’s chili and garlic glazed salmon with lemon roasted asparagus,” Cold replied with a smirk. “Yes, the salmon is very rich in zinc. The peppers have capsaicin that stimulates your taste buds and is said to release adrenaline that will increase your pulse and release endorphins.”

“Mmmm, and the asparagus?” Jimmy went on, pulling the zipper down and sliding his hand over the front of his underwear, delighted to find him hard.

“It’s full of vitamin E that can increase the flow of blood to the genitals,” Cold calmly explained. “They’re also quite rich in potassium, which helps stimulate hormone production.”

“Fascinating,” Jimmy nodded, trailing his fingers along the length of Cold’s shaft, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Jimmy?”

“Yes, Rod?”

“If you think I’m going to have sex with you before we eat dinner,” Cold drawled, “you are very mistaken.”

“Rod,” Jimmy whined, rubbing his fingers over Cold’s cock and squeezing him through his underwear. “Come on. The aphrodisiacs did me in. They really work! I’m totally ready. Please?”

Cold grunted, his voice firmer as he said, “I gave Jerry the evening off to prepare this meal for you myself. You are going to sit down with me and eat every last bite. Then, and only then, will we move on to dessert.”

“Come on, Rod.” Jimmy pulled Cold’s cock out and began to stroke him, nuzzling against his neck. “I promise we’ll eat after. I’ll eat it all. But can we pretty please do dessert first?”

“No,” Cold replied flatly, though he still made no effort to push Jimmy away. He began plating the food as if there wasn’t an eager hand wrapped around him, and he calmly added a sprinkle of pepper and sauce to the dishes.

Jimmy clung to his back, pressing himself as close as he could. He mouthed along Cold’s ear and squeezed his cock harder. “Mmm, Rod… I want you now. Please.”

Cold put the last finishing touches on each plate before quickly whirling around to grab Jimmy by his hips. He pushed him up against the cabinets with a low growl. “So impatient, are we?”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy panted, emphasizing the ‘sir’ and grinning when he saw Cold shiver. He was already taking off his pants and hopped up on the nearby counter, spreading his legs invitingly. “Please.”

Cold growled, frustrated, but his willpower to resist was clearly dwindling. He pressed himself between Jimmy’s thighs, his hard cock bumping up against his groin.

Jimmy used his long legs to draw Cold in close, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. “Please, sir… I need you.”

Cold sighed audibly, and he rubbed his cock up against Jimmy’s hole. Completely dry, just a tease, his voice a breathy whisper as he asked, “You really can’t wait, can you?”

“No, sir,” Jimmy murmured urgently, trying to rock down onto Cold’s cock. “All my dopamine and nitric oxide levels are positively raging for you right now.”

“Are they?” Cold chuckled fondly.

“Yes,” Jimmy insisted. He licked over his fingers, reaching down to start rubbing his spit over his hole. It was just enough for the head of Cold’s cock to push in, and Jimmy moaned for more. “Fuck… please, sir.”

Cold sighed and held his hips completely still.

Jimmy tried to roll his body forward, tried to push down on Cold’s cock, but he couldn’t get another inch. He sucked at Cold’s throat, pleading again, “Come on. Can’t you feel how much I want you?”

“Oh, trust me,” Cold said, his long fingers curling around Jimmy’s cock and giving him a smooth stroke. “I feel it. You’re absolutely aching for me to take you and ruin your precious little body right here on this counter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” Jimmy groaned excitedly, gasping when he felt Cold’s cock trying to press in a little more.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth, Mr. Poe,” Cold commanded sweetly.

Jimmy obeyed immediately, expecting a finger or two, but he grunted when he tasted…

Fish?

He blinked his eyes open to see Cold holding a fork, smirking at him expectantly as he said, “Dinner first. Then dessert. No exceptions.”

Jimmy pouted as Cold pulled away, chewing up the mouthful that Cold had given him and swallowing. “It is really good,” he admitted, squirming still from being so turned on. “It tastes sooo very good. Like orgasmically good. You really know your aphrodisiacs. Thank you.”

“Flattery will not help you right now,” Cold chuckled with a quick roll of his eyes, tucking his cock back into his pants. He snorted, feeding him another bite and smugly repeating, “Dinner first, Jimmy.”

“Then dessert?” Jimmy asked eagerly.

“Absolutely,” Cold promised.

“One request.” Jimmy batted his eyes, chewing slowly and smiling hopefully.

“Yes, Jimmy?”

“When it’s time for dessert…”

“Uh huh?”

“Would you…?”

“Yes, Jimmy. I will keep the apron on.”

<333

Sexy Saturday 07/06/2020

Sorry for another late Sexy Saturday! Holiday weekend, work work work, blah, blah, blah! Here’s another short and sweet sneak peek at the CHC Collection that will hopefully be coming out soon! XD

Enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW/tickling?/adorable hijinx

~*~

Jimmy was exhausted from a long day of school, his head still swimming with case law and dozens of Latin terms that made his head ache. He was stretched out in bed, and he smiled when Cold joined him only wearing a pair of silken pajama pants.

In public, Cold wore his suits like armor, meticulously groomed down to the very last button. But in private with Jimmy, he was getting more comfortable. He allowed himself to be vulnerable and trusted his lover completely.

He didn’t say it, not exactly, but Jimmy knew. He knew from the way Cold had stopped wearing his plush robes and didn’t always wear full pajamas to bed. Jimmy was so grateful for the display of trust, even unspoken as it was.

The view was nice, too.

Jimmy had fallen in love with Cold’s body, adoring every scar and even the softness in his tummy. As they snuggled up in bed together, he felt Cold relax, and he eagerly ran his hand over his chest. He traced each scar he could find, sighing adoringly.

Cold tolerated the affection, smiling softly, his eyes already closed for sleep.

Jimmy’s fingers dipped down, brushing over Cold’s side, and he gasped as the gangster suddenly jerked away. “Oh! I’m sorry!”

“It’s all right,” Cold grumbled, getting settled back down.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, you’re fine. Go on.”

Jimmy continued, finding that same little spot on his ribs. He could feel a scar, something round and bumpy, and he halted when he felt Cold twitch again. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Cold made a face, muttering under his breath, “I might be…” The rest Jimmy couldn’t hear.

“Might be what?” Jimmy blinked.

“I might be a little ticklish,” Cold snapped impatiently, glaring at Jimmy. “All right?”

“Oh! I had no idea!” Jimmy smiled innocently, a devious plan already springing to mind.

Cold’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, warning, “Jimmy… don’t do it.”

“Don’t do what?” Jimmy said with a sweet smile. He suddenly jumped on top of Cold, tickling his ribs as he cackled, “This?!”

“Jimmy!” Cold struggled, growling angrily, but then the most beautiful thing happened. He began to laugh. He was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.

Jimmy kept on, scratching and wiggling his fingers as quickly as he could. He was amazed how laughter transformed his lover, the years melting right off his face. He looked like a completely different person, happy and free.

But he was still Cold, a powerful gangster, and he was not going to take this abuse without a fight. He managed to grab one of Jimmy’s hands and pushed him away, deftly sweeping him back onto his side.

Before he knew what was happening, Jimmy couldn’t breathe because Cold was tickling his armpits. “No, no, no!” Jimmy giggled frantically. “Ahhh, ah, stop!”

“You started this!” Cold snickered, continuing to roll them over until he had Jimmy pinned. “I intend to finish it!”

Jimmy wiggled and fought as hard as he could, but Cold definitely had the advantage. He was holding Jimmy’s wrists together against the sheets with one hand, and the other was assaulting his sensitive armpits.

“Had enough?” Cold taunted.

“N-never!” Jimmy grinned, pulling up his leg and using his foot to poke at Cold’s ribs. Using his big toe to tickle wasn’t very effective, but it was enough to make Cold laugh again.

They wrestled around until they were both out of breath, laughing like fools and trying to stop panting. Jimmy couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much, murmuring happily when Cold kissed him.

Cold held him close, gently pulling him on top of his chest and sliding his hands along his back. The kiss was slow, soft, punctuated by Jimmy’s giggling and Cold’s deep chuckle.

Jimmy squirmed when Cold’s fingers danced too lightly along his hips, laughing, “Hey, quit! That tickles! I’m all super sensitive right now!”

“Mmm, might have to tie you up if you can’t hold still,” Cold teased, nudging Jimmy’s cheek with his nose.

“No freakin’ way,” Jimmy gasped. “You are not tying me up and tickling me! That’s mean!”

“It’s sort of funny.”

“I’ll pee!”

“Still funny.”

Jimmy grumbled, kissing Cold’s lips again and getting caught up in the warm swipe of his tongue. “Meanie.”

“That is very hurtful.” Cold pinched Jimmy’s ass, grinning when he yelped. “At least I didn’t tickle you…”

“Ohhh, you’re toast!” Jimmy declared, his hand reaching back down to tickle that spot on Cold’s ribs. Back at it they went, wrestling and playing, the friction between their bodies sending all the right signals to Jimmy’s dick.

Halfway through a very frenzied tickle attack, he got stuck on Cold’s tongue, moaning as he felt that his lover was hard, too.

Cold peeled off Jimmy’s pants, kissing him adoringly as he skillfully retrieved the lube from the bedside table without having to break away. He got his cock slick, reaching down to rub his fingers against Jimmy’s hole.

“Come on,” Jimmy pleaded, grabbing Cold’s cock and pressing it against himself. “I don’t wanna wait… we’ll just go slow, okay?”

“All right,” Cold agreed, his hips moving in short thrusts to work Jimmy open with his cock.

Jimmy groaned, hungry and delighted, enjoying the sweet burn. As soon as Cold met resistance, he’d stop, they would kiss for several long moments, and then he’d get back to work.

He loved this; the slow grind, the deep ache, how lovingly Cold touched him and held him. Time itself had come to a halt, nothing else in the universe except the two of them. Cold was over halfway in now and not stopping, a little strength behind his thrusts that betrayed his eagerness.

Jimmy lifted up his legs to ease the remaining thickness inside of him, hugging Cold’s neck. He sucked on his tongue, moaning appreciatively at Cold’s deep slams. Their bodies moved together like waves crashing over each other in the ocean, a sweet rhythm quickly becoming feverishly rough.

Jimmy’s head was soon tossing back and forth on the pillows; he clinged to Cold’s shoulders when he lifted up his leg and made his vision blur. “Oh, Rod,” he cried. “Right there, right there! Ah, fuck!”

“I’ve got you,” Cold mumbled, smothering his mouth against Jimmy’s throat. “Come on, come for me! Come on!”

The climax was glorious, leaving them both shaking and holding each other close. When Jimmy caught his breath again, he kissed Cold firmly. “Mmm… Rod…”

Cold was smiling, relaxed and satisfied, quirking a brow when Jimmy’s hand drifted a little too close to his side. “If you try to tickle me again, I am definitely going to tie you up.”

“Is that a promise?” Jimmy teased, wiggling his hips playfully.

“Hmmph,” Cold snorted, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “Why don’t you go on and try, see what happens?”

Jimmy couldn’t resist…

And ultimately ended up spending the rest of the night twisted up in silk ropes, a willing victim of Cold’s lovely torture. When he came again, trembling and laughing from Cold’s merciless tickling fingers, he had never been happier.

<333

Sexy Saturday 06/29/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, kits and kittens! Wait – what do you mean it’s actually Monday? Pfffft. I have no idea what you mean! It’s not like I just had a new release come out this weekend and I got so busy that I forgot. Except, uh, that’s exactly what happened! Sorry! XD

I hope everyone has had a chance to check out Hard Earned Cash – currently sitting at #52 on Amazon’s Gay Romance Top 100 – and a HUGE thank you to everyone who’s left a review. Thank you sooo very much! <333

Now, today’s treat is from the upcoming CHC Anthology (release date still pending!). This is a collection of smutty stories that take place between the first book and Hard Earned Cash.

Here’s a look at the very first Christmas that Jimmy spent with Boss Cold! Enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW/Lingerie/Panties

~*~

Christmas Day was a very exciting day for Jimmy.

It wasn’t even a week ago that Cold had off-handedly mentioned he wasn’t a big fan of the holidays. Jimmy told him that some of his best memories were of Christmas mornings when he was young and his mother was still alive, and how he missed the smell of a real Christmas tree.

Growing up with the Duplin family, they’d always had an artificial tree, and it wasn’t the same.

It was certainly not a coincidence that a fresh Christmas tree magically appeared in the living room the next day.

Cold had spared no expense getting a lavish tree and plenty of decorations for the house, and the bounty Jimmy found when he woke up Christmas morning was astounding. He felt like a little kid again, stunned by Santa’s generosity.

Of course, he knew it was really Cold, but the sense of wonder was the same.

Jimmy noticed there were some presents wrapped in black paper tucked in the very back of the tree, and Cold told him slyly that those were for later. Jimmy couldn’t wait to see what they were, but first they had a whole day of Christmas festivities to get through that Cold had planned out for them.

David came by to join the holiday festivities so they could celebrate his first Christmas as a free man together as a family. There were presents for him under the tree as well, and they spent several hours swimming in wrapping paper and watching classic holiday films.

Cold spoiled them both with books, movies, clothes, and a receipt for a new television he was having delivered to David’s apartment. David tried to refuse such an extravagant gift, but Cold calmly told him that Santa could not be dissuaded.

Jerry kept them happy with snack trays and festive cookies while he prepared an epic Christmas feast for them all. Rowena popped in to share some holiday cheer, but declined the invitation for dinner. She had plans with Dario, and Cold announced that his Christmas gift to his sister was not whacking the young pianist.

Even though they all had a good laugh over it, Jimmy wasn’t sure how serious he was.

Dinner was roast duck with chestnut stuffing, garlic green beans, marsala stuffed mushrooms, roasted butternut squash, whipped mashed potatoes, and Jerry had baked three different desserts, including a mouthwatering sticky toffee pudding. They all ate themselves to the point of busting, retiring out to the living room to curl up in front of the fireplace to recuperate.

Jerry brought them spiced wine to sip on, and as The Man Who Came To Dinner was ending, Jimmy couldn’t recall having a happier Christmas in at least a decade.

David thanked Cold for his hospitality and all the wonderful presents, giving Jimmy a big hug and a kiss before Jerry helped him load up the car to drive him home. After about the third glass of wine, it was clear that David would not be driving himself.

Alone with Cold, Jimmy settled down on the floor in front of the tree. His attention was immediately drawn to the remaining gifts, asking eagerly, “So! Is it time to open up those black presents?”

“Yes,” Cold replied, smiling wickedly over the rim of his wine glass. “Go on. I’m very interested to see if your gifts… fit.”

“Fit?” Jimmy immediately began tearing at the paper, his mind racing excitedly. It could be some sort of new toy or perhaps some naughty clothing. He knew Cold had been peeking at his many wish lists for inspiration for their lessons, and the possibilities for what awaited himself inside the boxes were endless.

The first gift was a pair of sheer black panties that made Jimmy blush immediately. He ran his fingers over the smooth fabric and shuddered when he imagined what it would feel like against his skin. “Oh, Rod. They’re beautiful!”

“Keep going,” Cold said with a smirk. “There’s more.”

A pair of stockings was next, black nylon with thick seams that Jimmy couldn’t wait to slide up his legs. Just these with the panties alone was an amazing gift, and he knew Cold had spent a pretty penny getting them for him. Cold never cheaped out of anything, especially clothing.

Jimmy’s fingers were trembling when he opened the last box, gasping when he found a lush corset and a matching bralette waiting for him inside. They were black with nude trimmings, silky lace edges, and small bows accenting the seams.

“Do you like them?” Cold asked, licking his lips as he studied Jimmy’s face intently.

“Yes,” Jimmy breathed, looking up to Cold with wide eyes. “Everything is so beautiful. I can’t believe this is for me!”

“Believe it,” Cold chuckled. “What are you waiting for? Go on and put everything on.”

“Right here?” Jimmy’s cheeks flushed.

“I’ll close my eyes,” Cold said, sipping at his wine with a sly smirk. “You can tell me when you’re ready. How’s that?”

“O-Okay,” Jimmy said excitedly, waiting for Cold to close his eyes before he started wiggling out of his normal clothes. He slid the stockings on first, turning this way and that to make sure the seams were even. Next were the panties, and he inhaled quietly as the soft fabric hugged his ass and his cock.

He couldn’t resist palming himself through the satin, loving how it felt beneath his fingers. He grabbed the bralette and suddenly realized he had no idea how to put it on. He clipped it on backwards and spun it around, sliding his arms through the straps and adjusting it around his lean chest.

Last was the corset, and although it was quite beautiful, it was the most daunting piece of all.

Swaying from his Christmas wine and buzzing with excitement energy, his hands were trembling as he loosened the ribbon to wiggle it on. He went over his head with it and immediately regretted that decision, cursing softly as he tried to pull it over his bra.

“Do you need assistance?” Cold asked innocently.

“I’ve got this!” Jimmy protested, grunting as he finally pulled the corset down and sighing in relief.

Cold chuckled softly, offering, “I’m here if you need me.”

Grumbling to himself, Jimmy stubbornly pulled at the laces of the corset and fixed everything as best as he could. Tying the bow behind his back was awkward, but he felt so gorgeous all bundled up in silk and lace. Once he was certain he had adjusted all of his lingerie to near perfection, he cleared his throat.

“Are you ready?” Cold asked.

“Yes,” Jimmy exhaled softly, biting his lip eagerly as Cold rose up to his feet.

Eyes still closed, he set his wine expertly aside and reached for Jimmy’s hands.

“You can open your eyes now,” Jimmy teased, guiding Cold over to join him by the fireplace. He gasped when Cold turned him around, his strong hands sliding along the front of the corset as he pressed up against his back.

“Not yet.” Cold slipped a nimble finger inside Jimmy’s bra, sliding over a nipple and making him shudder. His other hand skirted down Jimmy’s stomach to the edge of his panties, skimming the hem before tracing the line of his hardening cock.

Jimmy was panting, curling his spine and pushing his ass back against Cold. “Don’t you want to see it? Why, why are your eyes still closed?”

“Because I am enjoying the anticipation,” Cold replied as he kept toying with Jimmy’s nipple, pressing as close as he could. He kissed Jimmy’s shoulder, light as a feather, his mouth gliding to his neck, his ear.

Jimmy was whimpering, grabbing Cold’s hand and trying to press it back down on his cock. “Oh, come on! Please! Touch me, look at me, something! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get all of this on for you?”

Cold chuckled heartily, squeezing Jimmy and petting him softly. “Oh, I can certainly imagine,” he said, slipping his fingers inside Jimmy’s panties to touch his bare skin, “This is my Christmas present to myself, and I don’t want to unwrap it too quickly.”

“Mmmph, Rod,” Jimmy groaned, pushing his ass back and grabbing Cold’s hip. “Please…”

Cold only smirked and rubbed his hard dick against Jimmy’s ass as he teasingly stroked him, not allowing enough pressure for any real friction to form. Jimmy was so hard from all the wicked torture, and the skimpy panties could barely contain his erection.

The tension was absolutely maddening, and Jimmy urged again, “Please, Rod. Look at me. Look at what you gave me. Look at what you’re freakin’ doing to me!”

Cold’s eyes finally opened, and he actually gasped, his hand clenching around Jimmy’s cock and kissing his ear urgently. “Oh, Jimmy… you look absolutely delicious.”

Jimmy whirled around in Cold’s arms, slamming their lips together in a fierce kiss. He tasted sweet, fruity and delicious, and Jimmy absolutely loved the greedy way Cold was feeling him up through the corset and bra. “Mmmph, Rod! God, you feel so good!”

Cold growled softly and picked Jimmy right off the floor. “I think I’m going to unwrap you in bed, Jimmy, if there are no objections.”

“None at all!” Jimmy squealed, wrapping his long legs around his waist and never letting their lips part for more than a second. It was difficult to breathe, and he didn’t know if it was from the rush of the sex they were about to have or the crushing hold the corset had on his ribs.

When Cold finally laid him out in bed, he gasped for sweet oxygen and laughed, “Oh, this is gonna be, mmm, interesting.”

“What’s wrong?” Cold asked worriedly, frowning down at Jimmy as he crawled over him. “Is the corset too tight?”

“Oh, it’s definitely tight,” Jimmy said, smoothing his hands down the firm boning, “but I don’t want to take it off yet. Please. I can wear it for a little longer, I promise! I’ll be fine!”

“As you wish,” Cold said, glancing down at Jimmy skeptically. He bowed his head for a kiss, mumbling against his lips, “But if I even suspect for a moment that there’s a problem, it’s all coming off.”

“Yes, sir!” Jimmy said with an excited grin, groaning into their kiss as the temperature began to rise. He soon felt Cold’s slick fingers pulling his panties aside and pressing into him, making him gasp urgently. “Oh, God! Oh, yes!”

“Mmm, you want to leave your panties on while I fuck you?” Cold asked in a deliciously husky whisper, nuzzling along Jimmy’s throat.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jimmy chanted. He wrapped his legs around Cold’s hips and squeezed, crossing his ankles as he took a deep breath. “Please, Rod. I can take it. Please, take me, right now!”

“Jimmy,” Cold murmured, dropping down to his elbows as he began to push his thick cock in. “Mmm, you feel fantastic.”

Moaning softly, Jimmy’s head dropped back against the bed, loving the tug of the panties against his inner groin as Cold slipped so deeply inside of him. Cold didn’t take long to get going and had soon started a passionate pace. Jimmy scrambled to keep up, rolling his hips to meet every thrust, bottoming out together and both of them marveling at the perfect fit.

Jimmy couldn’t keep his hands still, feeling over Cold’s shoulders and back, his nails digging in when Cold would push deep. He was gasping more often, his head starting to feel light, and he was whimpering, “Fuck, Rod… just like that, just like that… fuck!”

Cold focused in on the angle that had Jimmy writhing and lifted up one of his legs. The higher he went, the louder Jimmy got. Cold finally threw his leg up over his shoulder and smothered a low growl against Jimmy’s chest. “There… fuck, take it, just like that. Just like that!”

Jimmy snapped a hand up to the headboard to brace himself, staring at Cold in shock and amazement, groaning, “Fuck! Yes! That, that, there! Wait, no, no… yes, okay, yes, yes, yes!”

Once Cold had the perfect spot all lined up, he was totally relentless and started pounding into Jimmy’s tight ass. Jimmy’s body swallowed him up completely, clenching down so fucking tightly it almost hurt, and he knew they were both getting close.

The lace of the corset wrapped around him was so new, and the sensation was positively erotic. He could feel his cock trapped between them, pressed against cloth and silk, and Jimmy groaned when Cold purposefully pressed down to give him more friction.

He could see the head of his cock drooling all over the pricey fabric, a single line of clear fluid clinging as it connected skin and lace. He kissed Cold passionately, stretching his other leg over his shoulder and crying out as Cold fucked him frantically.

Cold steadied his weight with one arm, his other hand sliding up the boning of the corset and pulling Jimmy’s bra down. He squeezed his nipple until Jimmy squealed, fucking him in time with each cruel little twist.

Jimmy couldn’t stop moaning, his head snapping to the side as he moaned and clung to Cold’s shoulders, crying out, “Rod! I’m, I’m, I’m so fucking close!”

Cold snaked his hand back down to grab Jimmy’s dripping cock from underneath his panties, jerking him in the same merciless rhythm as his hips, grunting and sweating, growling, “Yes… Come on… come for me, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s voice went up some octaves in waves of moans, screaming sweetly as he came, thrusting up against Cold’s palm as he busted all over the soft lace of his corset. He could feel himself blushing a spectacular shade of red, gasping haggardly as his body shook from the intense ograsm.

“Oh, Rod…” Jimmy groaned, continuing to mewl and fuss as Cold kept fucking him. He was quickly approaching overstimulation, and it was hard to breathe, as he groaned weakly.

Cold growled as he came next, his hips slamming into Jimmy as he rode out his own shuddering climax. He panted against Jimmy’s neck, pressing a few breathless kisses there as he groaned, “Well… Merry Christmas to me.”

Jimmy laughed tiredly, dragging his fingers through Cold’s short hair. “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.” He wiggled his hips playfully, teasing, “Well, maybe help me get out of this stuff first and then good night?”

“That I can do,” Cold said with a wink.

Jimmy quickly decided that getting out of the corset was much more fun than getting into it. He had felt so awkward trying to wiggle into it, and he was ready to escape. He smiled as Cold began to work at the laces with expert dexterity and laser focus.

Cold pulled the ribbon out of each grommet, looping it around his long fingers as he went. He was exacting and careful, his icy gaze focused intently on his work.

Jimmy sighed in relief when the last pull freed his rib cage and he could inhale properly, but Cold still wasn’t done with him.

Cold bowed his head, tracing his fingertips delicately along the impressions in Jimmy’s skin left behind from the boning of the corset. He touched every single one, smiling softly as if somehow deeply pleased by the symmetry of each lovely vertical line.

Jimmy was melting from every attentive touch and let himself savor this intimacy. He drank in every pass of Cold’s hands like sweet nectar, sighing softly and blushing from such a passionate focus.

Cold peeled the corset away, his lips moving to take the place of his hands and caressing each line of pressure with a soft kiss. He lingered on the collection of tiny circles left behind from the grommets on the lacing, following them down the center of Jimmy’s stomach to his loins.

Jimmy lifted up his hips as Cold took off his underwear and the stockings, returning up his body to unfasten the bra. Cold paused at his chest to trace the lines left behind, admiring all the creases and marks. Jimmy smiled as he watched him, teasing, “I think you’re having more fun unwrapping me than you did playing with me.”

“Nonsense,” Cold chuckled, kissing Jimmy’s lips sweetly. “I’m simply enjoying my gift to the fullest.”

“Your gift?”

“Mmhmm,” Cold hummed. “The lingerie on you is a gift to me, one that I’ve been waiting so very patiently for.”

“You must have bribed Santa,” Jimmy teased. “Because I know you should be on the naughty list.”

“Certainly possible,” Cold mused, smirking down at Jimmy and petting his hair. “Tell me, did you have a good Christmas?”

“Yes,” Jimmy replied immediately. “I had an awesome Christmas. Thank you for everything.” He patted his stomach, asking slyly, “Hey, do you think there’s any of that toffee pudding left?”

“Only one way to find out,” Cold whispered heatedly. “Quick shower, raid the kitchen for toffee pudding, and watch another Christmas movie before I wrap you back up again?”

“Absolutely.”

<333

Sexy Saturday 06/20/2020

Happy Sexy Saturday, kits and kittens! Hope you all are doing wonderfully! Hard Earned Cash is less than a week away, and I can’t freakin’ WAIT for you all to read it.

To help hold you over, here’s a little sexy tease…

Warnings: SPOILERS/NSFW XD

~*~

“Get on top, Mr. Poe.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy whispered, sliding over Cold to straddle his hips. He greedily slid his hands down his stomach and sighed when he felt Cold’s thick cock pressed against his ass.

Cold untied Jimmy’s robe and jerked it down off his shoulders. He was gazing up at Jimmy with a hunger that made him shiver as he ordered firmly, “Open yourself up for me.”

Jimmy shrugged out of his robe and threw it aside, frantically scrambling for the lube in their bedside table drawer.

Cold grabbed his wrist and shook his head. “Slow down, Mr. Poe… take your time.”

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s about the journey, not the destination,” Cold said, moving his hand to tease his long fingers along Jimmy’s shaft. “There is no reason to rush.”

“I understand, sir.” Jimmy slicked up his fingers, and he reached down between his legs to start pushing inside his ass. “Mm… I just want you so badly, sir.”

“I know, Mr. Poe. Mm, I know you do.” Cold inhaled audibly, breathing out, “I want you, too.”

Jimmy slid two fingers in and groaned at the familiar stretch. He usually did this with the end in mind: Cold’s cock filling him up. He always hurried, rushed into it, but not now.

He concentrated on the twist of his hand, finding that spot that made him ache in the most spectacular way. He curled his fingers slowly and uttered little gasps as he felt the tight muscles of his body relax.

“You look so beautiful,” Cold said, his voice husky with desire. “So pretty opening up for me… do you like it, Mr. Poe?”

Jimmy looked into Cold’s eyes and he couldn’t break away. “Yes,” he whispered, his fingers pushing deeper and making him stammer. “Y-yes… I do, sir.”

Cold squeezed Jimmy’s cock, only a tease, smiling as he said, “What do you like about it, mmm?”

“Right now, I like, I like how you’re looking at me. Like I’m beautiful, like… like I’m special.”

“You are, Mr. Poe,” Cold promised sincerely. “You are all of those things and more.”

Jimmy moaned, his head tipping back as blinding pleasure lit up the length of his spine. It was Cold’s affirmation and the movement of his hand sending him into such bliss. He had to be careful or he was going to make himself come too soon.

Cold seemed to sense how close he was getting, now commanding, “Go ahead and sit down on my cock if you think you’re ready for it, Mr. Poe.”

“God, yes.” Jimmy reached for the lube again to wet Cold’s cock. “I’ll make it so good for you, sir. I will.”

Cold shifted his hips as Jimmy lined him up, grunting as he began to lower himself down. “There… nice and slow. Just like that, just like that.”

Jimmy loved the slide inside of his body, the hint of delicious friction and the need to take it all. Cold’s firm grip made sure he was patient, and Jimmy let his thick cock completely stretch out the tight ring of muscle of his asshole one tantalizing inch at a time.

He groaned when his cheeks were flush against Cold’s thighs, his tight ass completely full, and slowly starting to grind. His body protested, but he didn’t listen, working through it and focusing on Cold’s cock buried inside of him.

Cold was panting quietly, still holding Jimmy’s hips but trusting him to control the rhythm. No words were exchanged for several long moments, and their eyes were locked together as Jimmy moved, using his thighs to power his thrusts.

Jimmy knew he was blushing, and he was completely trapped by Cold’s gorgeous stare. He could feel his love and his passion, all of the lovely things he knew Cold felt and could never say. It was in the way he held him, the longing way he looked at him, and the tender smile ghosting over his lips.

The wet sound of their bodies was exciting, and Jimmy made sure to take every inch of Cold as deeply as he could. He loved how full he felt, his body nearly pushed to its limits in this position, and he adored every second of it.

The air was beginning to feel electric, and Jimmy was having trouble maintaining the current rhythm. Everything was heating up, and he wanted more. He wanted to move faster, he wanted to fuck, he wanted—

“Put your hands behind you,” Cold ordered suddenly. “Grab my legs and fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Fuck, yes! Yes, sir!” Jimmy moaned gratefully, eagerly leaning back and latching onto Cold’s thighs. He began to rock himself down in earnest, and he cried out at the intense new angle.

“Mmm… I love watching your cock bounce when you ride me.” Cold let out a primal growl, his fingers digging into Jimmy’s hips to encourage him to go faster, harder. He arched his body up and held Jimmy in place so he wouldn’t lose his balance.

“Fuck!” Jimmy moaned, tears in his eyes when Cold began to slam into him. He couldn’t keep up, and he had to throw his hands forward to catch himself on Cold’s chest.

Cold didn’t stop, and the pounding slams of his cock continued seamlessly as he wrapped his arms around Jimmy. He pulled him close and pressed a searing kiss to his lips.

Jimmy knew Cold was almost there by the way he was panting and jerking. He wanted him to come desperately, aching for Cold to fill him up. He slipped his tongue deep into his mouth before having to withdraw as a moan stole his breath away from a merciless thrust. “Fuck! Rod!”

Cold held Jimmy tightly, biting the top of his ear as he growled, “Jimmy… I’m coming… fuck…”

Jimmy cried softly as Cold came, and he was able to feel every last pulse of his cock as he flooded his hole. That bite at his ear made him positively ache and sent amazing shivers down his spine. He squeezed his body down, moaning when he made Cold grunt pleasurably.

Cold’s firm grip found Jimmy’s cock, and he stroked him quickly as he commanded, “Come for me, Mr. Poe… look in my eyes and come now!”

Jimmy hiccupped, the pressure between his legs screaming for release and finding himself right on the tipping point. Cold’s voice was impossible to resist, and Jimmy sobbed as he came all over his long fingers, gazing helplessly into Cold’s beautiful eyes. “Fuck! Oh, Rod… yes….!”

“Good boy,” Cold breathed, pulling Jimmy into a rough kiss.

Jimmy melted immediately. He petted Cold’s hair as they kissed while being mindful of his stitches. He groaned when Cold’s cock slipped out of him, well aware what a mess they both were. He could feel Cold’s warm cum seeping out of him, shifting his hips as he sighed, “Mmm… wow. That was amazing.”

“You were spectacular,” Cold praised, playfully popping Jimmy’s ass. He kissed him again and sighed with deep satisfaction. “Mmmm… absolutely spectacular.”

“Uh huh,” Jimmy agreed, not wanting to get up yet.

“How do you feel?”

“Warm and squishy and still very definitely sore,” Jimmy laughed breathlessly. He smiled when Cold rubbed his back. “I’ll be okay, but maybe let’s avoid anyone trying to kill us again?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Cold’s expression drew back in a grimace.

“For the next few days, we may be staying close to home,” Cold said, nudging Jimmy’s cheek. “No more galivanting around the city and getting into trouble, hmm?”

“We’re still doing dinner this weekend, right?” Jimmy frowned. “Dad, Rowena… Dario.”

Cold made another face at that last name. He tolerated Dario dating his sister, but that wasn’t saying much. Although he had never outright said it, Cold wouldn’t hesitate to make Dario disappear if he ever hurt Rowena, and Dario was very aware of that fact.

It made all of their interactions a bit awkward, to say the least.

“I suppose so,” Cold mused. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Martine as an apology for his impromptu arrest.”

“I’m not sure if he’ll come,” Jimmy said carefully, knowing how Maury felt about such swanky places.

“I insist,” Cold countered. “For the next few weeks, I’d like to keep our family close. That includes Maury the Mouth.”

“You’re worried about them,” Jimmy realized. “You think they might be in danger, too.”

“We’re all in danger, yes,” Cold said, his thumb moving along Jimmy’s jaw. “Until the Luchesis are destroyed and Stephen Blalock is taken care of, we will not be safe.”

“What about the trial?”

“Let me take care of that,” Cold soothed. “You worry too much, Jimmy. My plan is working out just fine. The trial is the key to everything. Trust me.”

“That’s what you always say,” Jimmy grumbled.

“Maybe you should try it instead of paying me lip service,” Cold fussed, raising his hand to smack Jimmy’s ass again.

“Ow!” Jimmy grinned and wiggled his hips. “Again, sir? Please? Maybe it’ll help me trust you.”

Cold licked his lips very purposely and smirked slyly. “Are you trying to get something started, Mr. Poe?”

“God, I freakin’ hope so.”

<333