On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel] Page 2

  "Pretty ... Blue ... Oh, fuck. So close.” The words were sweet, fucking sweet and wild and thrown into the air as Rig shook. He reached over and wrapped his hand around Rig's prick, thumb sliding across the tip. He wasn't sure whether Rig's cry or the splash of spunk on his fingers came first. Somehow he figured it really didn't matter.

  He kissed Rig's palm, smiling as Rock's roar sounded, heralding the big guy's orgasm. Rig's fingers stroked his face, his jaw—just loving on him, touching him.

  "You needing, kid?” Rock asked. He shook his head, hand working his prick, letting the sight of the, the smell of them, Rig's soft touches, push him over.

  Rig's hand cupped his jaw, drawing him up onto the bed and into their kiss, into their arms. This is what he'd been waiting for. Lying out on the beach had nothing on lying here with Rig and Rock.

  Chapter Three

  Rock walked into the kitchen, grumbling as he grabbed a beer, slamming the fridge door closed. “Is that stew?"

  Dick nodded, biting back his grin.

  "There better not be any fancy vegetables in it."

  "Just beef and potatoes and carrots—just like you like it."

  Rock harrumphed and started grumbling again as he left the kitchen. Dick shook his head, let out his grin, though it faded into a sigh. He checked the clock again and went back to scrubbing the counter. Rig was due home any second after a week at a conference on health care in L.A.

  Rock took out his frustration at having to wait a moment longer by growling and grumping. He was trying to make time pass faster by scrubbing everything in sight. Besides, the first thing he wanted Rig to do when the man walked through the front door was him and Rock, not the cleaning.

  He could hear Rock cursing out the TV as he dumped the dirty water and stored his bucket. Damn, but Rig better show up soon. He washed his hands and grabbed himself a beer of his own, going quietly to the front room to see if it was safe to sit and pretend to watch the television with Rock. Rock was finally settled, pouting at a game of beach volleyball. Dick settled on the other end of the couch without a word, knowing that the only thing that was going to improve Rock's mood was Rig. A week was just too dammed long and next time he was going to insist the gym could do without them and they could go along.

  The pups heard Rig's truck pull into the drive before he did, the happy barks one of the most welcome sounds he'd heard all week.

  "Well, aren't y'all a sight? Are my men in there? Huh?” Rig's lazy, easy drawl floated in, warm and familiar and sexy and theirs.

  He and Rock were up and out of their chairs, no attempts at casual or letting the man in. If Rig didn't have splinters before the next ten minutes were over, it would only be because they weren't going to let him get his clothes off. Rock grabbed Rig and hauled him up against the big, muscled body, mouth diving for a kiss as Dick closed the front door. Then he was pushing in for a share.

  Hands wrapped around his head, Rig open and panting for it, just sort of melting between them and rubbing against them with that long skinny body. That whimper came from Rock, but there was a matching one in his own throat.

  Rock's arms wrapped around him and Rig, shifting them so that he was behind Rig, all three of them writhing together. He was harder than stone himself, and he figured Rock and Rig had to be, too. It had just been too long since their bodies had been pressed together, too long since their kisses tasted just right. Rig's hips were moving, ratcheting the heat between them higher and hotter. The little gasps and happy moans made him hard as hell; and the smell? Stetson and laundry soap and coffee and something sweet and hot and pure Rig...

  "Oh fuck.” He whimpered, Rock's hands hot on his ass keeping him moving against Rig's ass. He cried out, shooting hard, filling his jeans like he was eighteen all over again.

  Rig pushed a groan into Rock's mouth that was harsh and hungry, pure raw need. He fell to his knees, pushing between them. As soon as Rock realized what he was doing, he was given a bit more room, a very little bit. He got Rock's jeans undone and Rig's pants and grabbed both of their pricks in his hand, bringing the heads to his mouth.

  The flavor was pure bliss.

  "Pretty! Blue! Oh, please...” Rig's body rippled against him, hips jerking.

  He hummed, happy and feeling good and just opened his mouth wide, taking both cocks in and sucking hard. Rig prick slid along Rock's only a few times, before hot, salty spunk sprayed over his tongue, Rig's cry echoing through the house. Fuck, it felt good, that sound, the taste, the way Rock's hips jerked a few more times before he was swallowing again, the way Rock's spunk tasted different when it followed Rig's. He moaned, taking his time to lick them both clean.

  "Hey Blue-Eyes. I missed y'all something fierce.” The words were husky, whispered and then Rock's mouth was taken in a long, deep kiss.

  Rock made another sound that was suspiciously whimper-like and just took the kiss, hand tilting Rig's head. Fuck, they were beautiful together. Always had been. Rock's fingers tangled in Rig's white curls, the look on Rig's face simple and honest and happy.

  He nuzzled their groins, the smells as familiar as anything in his life.

  The kiss showed no signs of stopping so he started stripping them, working off their pants and underwear and then worked t-shirt and dress shirt open and up and off, hands running over all that glorious skin.

  One of Rig's hands slid around his waist, fingers playing the bundle of nerves at his lower back, drawing little patterns and keeping him close. Shivers went up and down his spine and he got himself as naked as they were. “Bed. While we can still all walk and before we're too desperate for more than humping against the wall."

  "He's a sharp one, our Dick.” The words were whispered against Rock's lips, Rig grinning and happy.

  "Except for the having to stop kissing you while we move thing, yeah, he's got it all figured out."

  Dick laughed, grabbed their arms and started tugging. “I'm just thinking of your back, Rock."

  They made it down the hall in slow stages, leaving time for a long kiss here, a grope there, accentuated with rubbing and snuggling and moaning. By the time they reached the bedroom, they were all hard again.

  "Want you to fuck me,” Dick told Rig. “While Rock does you."

  "Fuck, yes.” Rig turned, took his face in those warm, long-fingers hands. “Missed you."

  Then he got one of those kisses, Rig leading him to the bed, wanting him. The kiss never broke as they lay down together, him on his back, Rig long and hard against him. There was the sound of the lube snapping open, but it wasn't fingers that pushed against his hole, just the slick, wet tip of Rig's cock sliding in, letting him feel every inch. He moaned and whimpered, spreading his legs, offering himself to his lover.

  Rock's hands were hot, sliding slickly over his skin, grabbing his prick and pumping, tweaking his and then Rig's nipples. Rig's head was thrown back, kiss-swollen lips parted. “So fucking sweet..."

  He nodded, groaning as Rig's prick settled in deep.

  "You're fucking Dick,” Rock growled. “And I'm fucking you."

  He could see Rock settling behind Rig, knew that fat cock was filling Rig up.

  "Oh Pretty ... Oh, my Blue...” Hungry and happy—that cry echoed, gelling between his own moans and Rock's rumble.

  "Fuck ... oh fuck, move, please.” He was begging, hands sliding over Rig's skin, moving back to touch Rock, to wrap around his back and tug.

  Rock rumbled again and then moved, setting the rhythm for Rig's movements as well. Rigger leaned forward, kissing hard enough their teeth clicked, want overtaking skill, even after so many years. He lifted his legs up, hooking his heels around Rock's hips. One hand played with Rig's nipple, the other found the ring in Rock's.

  Rigger's hand wrapped around his cock, tugging in time with their thrusts, thumb sliding over the slit again and again. “Oh fuck ... fuck. Good."

  He was practically incoherent, body moving, sensation just flooding him.

  Rig's head rested on his shoulder, mo
uth open and gasping against his skin. “Needed you. So bad. Needed you both."

  "Never letting you go without us again,” growled Rock, moving faster and harder, making the three of them slam together noisily. He just nodded and came, pleasure sweet and sharp, overwhelming.

  Teeth fastened on his shoulder—not enough to hurt, but enough to mark, enough that he felt it—as Rigger keened, skinny body convulsing as he was filled with heat. It was more than enough to tip him over and he could see Rock's eyes go dark with pleasure as the big guy roared.

  Dick hadn't come so hard in at least a week.

  Rig collapsed against him, humming softly, snuggling, arms wrapped around him. “Oh, God. So good.” “Mmmhmm. Missed you,” he murmured, stroking Rig's back.

  Rock shifted, lying half on half next to Rig.

  "Uh-huh.” Rig blinked up, eyes dark and shadowed, tired. “'s good to be home."

  He nodded and gave Rig a soft kiss as Rock settled a quilt over the three of them, pushing up close behind Rig. “Nap time."

  "I need to unload the truck and...” Rig's eyes were closed and the words trailed off, turning to soft purrs and snores as Rock stroked and petting.

  "Later,” he whispered, placing another kiss on Rig's forehead.

  "Much later,” growled Rock softly.

  Yeah. Like maybe next week sometime.

  Chapter Four

  "Are you lonesome, tonight, do you miss me tonight.” Rock sang along with the radio, barely aware he was doing it until Dick chuckled.

  "What?” he asked, growling as he chopped cherry tomatoes into little pieces. And why the fuck they weren't small enough as they were he didn't know, except that Rig liked them all to help out with supper and this gave him something to do without being in the way. He had to admit, he liked it when they were together, even if they were cooking. Well, except when the kid got that shit eating grin of his.

  "I just didn't think you liked country music."

  "Elvis Presley is not country music."

  "We're listening to Y105 Country, so I'd say yes, he is."

  "Hey I was alive while the man was still performing—not fucking country."

  Dick just gave him a look and then turned to Rig. “Well?"

  Rig looked over at Dick, flour smeared over one cheek. “Elvis is just Elvis, kid, and I like hearing Rock sing, so let it be."

  "You hear that kid, he likes it when I sing?"

  Dick grinned at him again and came close, sliding up against his hip. He got a soft kiss. “I never said I didn't like it."

  Then Dick went back to what he was doing and he picked the song back up as he started in on the tomatoes again. They'd never done anything to him. Well, except he was expected to eat them. He chopped them a little finer.

  He stopped singing, knife poised over the cutting board.

  "Shit, this is a depressing song. Fucking kid was right—it's country."

  Rig gave him a look. “My kitchen, my radio station."

  He raised an eyebrow, hand going out to hit autosearch for the next station up.

  Rig reached out and popped his knuckles with the spatula. “Don't make me beat you, Rocketman."

  He snorted, attention turning to Rig. “You and what army?"

  "Don't need an army, you Neaderthal. I'll just make the kid hold you down."

  "Oh, it's like that is it?” He put down his knife, wiping his hands on his jeans. Fuck, he was hard and his skinny-assed Texan was asking for a piece of him.

  Rig nodded as he pulled the pork chops out of the skillet and onto a big plate, turning off the oven. “You don't fuck with a man's radio station, you know?"

  "And what exactly do you fuck with?” He stalked slowly toward Rig, ready to pounce, waiting for exactly the right moment. Fuck, it had been too long since they played like this.

  Rig moved away from the stove, steadfastly ignoring him as he dug some potatoes from the bin and headed toward the sink. “I'd think you'd have figured that out by now, Rock."

  Teasing and lazy, that drawl didn't have even a hint of edge.

  "Oh, I've got it figured out, Rig. I'm just trying to decide whether or not to show mercy to that sweet ass of yours. Bed or couch are a lot softer than the kitchen floor."

  He could see Dick out of the corner of his eye, fucking kid was already naked and just waiting for them to sort out exactly when and where.

  "I'm cooking, Rock.” Rig dropped the potatoes in the sink, muscles tensed, ready to bolt.

  One more step and he reached out, hand wrapping around Rig's arm, pulling that lean body around and up tight against his own, mouth covering Rig's before the sweet son of a bitch could even take a breath. Rig's hips were cradled in close and, oh, yeah, his favorite slut was hard for him, cock hot enough to feel through both layers of clothes. Dick moaned and he looked over. The kid was watching them, legs spread, back against the counter, hand sliding up and down that long cock. He nudged Rig to look.

  The grey eyes slid down the kid's body, hips jerking against him when Rig hit that long fucking prick. Rig's moan was sweet as all fuck.

  "Yeah,” he said softly, agreeing. He slid his hands under Rig's t-shirt, pulling it up and off, hands going immediately to the button and zipper of the tight jeans. “The kid wants you. I want you. All you gotta do is tell us what you want, aside from the fucking country music station blaring depressing as shit music at us while we fuck ourselves blind."

  "You're not changing the station, Rock.” Rig's hands were busy on his clothes, that mouth licking and sucking along his jawline.

  "No, I'm not. Dick is."

  "He touches that fucking radio, I'll kick his ass, too.” Rig was nibbling on his ear now, breath hot and teasing.

  "Is that a promise or a threat, cowboy?"

  Not that Dick was in any fit shape to change anything—the kid was well on his way, eyes hot on them, hand working his prick like it was his last time ever.

  "'s a threat, Yankee. You forgot what they sounded like?” Rig's hand wrapped around his cock, fingers sliding and teasing, thumb working the nerves right below the head. Oh, Rig wasn't playing fair now—the only way he could cheat harder was if he dropped to his knees. Before Rig had a chance to do just that, he grabbed Rig's ring between his fingers and tugged.

  The good old boy gave a groaning squeak, teeth nipping his earlobe hard. Fuck, but the shudders that rocked that long body were sweet. “Cheating, Blue."

  "You started it."

  "Fuck!” Dick shouted out and the scent of sex filled the room.

  Groaning, he tugged at Rig's ring again.

  "Nope. You did. Singing—love hearing you.” Rig's voice was desperate, cock sliding against his hip. Those smart, long fingers were working him hard, just right, just where he liked it.

  Rock chuckled and sang low and soft into Rig's ear, whispering for his favorite slut. His Rabbit groaned, melted against him, so fucking easy. It didn't take but another tug to the ring, one hand cupping the tight, little ass before Rig's hand tightened, spunk spraying between them. He repeated the last line of the song, mouth fastening to Rig's as he came, shooting over Rig's hand and belly.

  Rig kissed him until his head was swimming, fingers and lips pulling out every fucking wave of pleasure, one after another. He wrapped his arms around Rig, holding him close, rubbing their come-slick bodies together. Another sound pushed into his mouth, one of Rig's arms wrapping around his neck, the other held out for the kid.

  Dick's joined them, grinning happily. “You sure you don't want me to finish those potatoes, Rig?"

  "Potatoes?” Rig's eyes were stoned, hand sliding down to cup Dick's ass.

  Rock chuckled and slid one arm around the kid, keeping the other one locked around Rig. “Forget the fucking potatoes, kid—we'll order a pizza. Later."

  "Mm ... much later.” Rig pulled Dick into their kiss, lips parted and hungry for something that had nothing to do with cooking or kitchens.

  He opened his mouth wide, taking the flavor of them both into h
im. Yeah, who needed food when you had this?

  Rig and Dick took his mouth, single-minded and fuck! Were there two better mouths anywhere? He started to walk backward, with the general idea that they'd be more comfortable in a room with a bed rather than one with knives and forks and other pointy objects.

  His lovers followed him without complaint, Rig plastered to his stomach, Dick rubbing against his side. He bumped into the side of the door, but not hard enough to make him break the kiss and kept going down the hall. The living room was closer but the bed was more comfortable. Rig's hand curled behind his head, kept it from hitting the picture on the wall. Dick maneuvered them around the little bookcase. All three of their hands reached for the knob on the bedroom door.

  He chuckled into their kiss. “My bedroom. My radio station,” he murmured, looking into Rig's eyes.

  Rig grinned and nodded, eyes twinkling. “I can handle that, Blue."

  Dick just laughed, opening the door and pushing them all through. “Fuck the radio; let's get naked!"

  Rock looked at Rig and laughed, landing a smack on the kid's ass. “We already are naked, genius."

  "This is why we don't give him a radio station of his own. Poor kid can't even remember if he's dressed or not.” Rig was laughing, leaning forward to nuzzle Dick's cheek.

  Dick tried to look annoyed, but it wasn't easy with Rig loving on him. “It was figurative."

  "Whoa, give the kid a college course or two and he thinks he's Einstein."

  "Nope. I'm betting Einstein wasn't hung so well.” Rig slid down to his knees, bringing his and the kid's hips closer together. “If he had been, he wouldn't have thought so Goddamned much."

  His and Dick's laughter faded as the tips of their cocks rubbed together.

  "Fuck, yeah.” Rig wrapped his hands around them, flat tongue sliding over both of them. Their Texan shuddered, moaned over their cocks. “Yeah."

  "Oh, you fucking slut.” Rock growled the words, hips jerking. He wrapped one arm around Dick and grabbed hold of Rig's shoulder with the other one. Fuck he loved Rig's mouth.