On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel] Page 5

  "The beast...” Rig started chuckling, getting his fly open, his jeans pushed down.

  Grinning, he winked, letting one finger push into Rig—just the tip, a little tease for them both.

  "Mmm. My beast.” Rig got his prick freed, hands wrapping around his shaft.

  Groaning, he pushed up into Rig's hand. “You know it."

  He reached around under the cushions, sure there had to be some lube there somewhere.

  Rig's eyes lit up. “Mmm. Toward the corner. I didn't want it to squish."

  "No sit and splat, huh?” Laughing, he stretched and reached over, finding the relatively new tube. “Good man."

  "Squishy isn't good for upholstery, Blue Eyes.” Why were they talking about furniture? Not only that, but was leather upholstery?

  He slicked up two fingers and pushed them unceremoniously into Rig's ass. He'd get his rabbit's mind where it belonged. His, too.

  "Rock!” Rig clenched, squeezed around his fingers. “More."

  That was better.

  He pushed his fingers apart, and slid in a third as he handed over the tube. “I'm getting you ready—you do me."

  "My pleasure,” Rig said. It was, he could tell. Rig fucking loved his cock, loved jacking him, touching him. And it felt so fucking good, so fine. He spread his legs wider, and pushed his fingers deeper, hitting Rig's gland. “Rock. Rock, fuck.” Rig's head rolled on his shoulders, eyes wide.

  "Right there, huh?” He kept pegging it, working Rig until that sweet cock had no choice but to go hard again. He got a nod, a gasp, hands opening and closing on his shoulders. He nodded back and slowly eased his fingers out. “All right, Rig. Show me how you ride."

  "Mmm.” Rig moved right up—eager and hungry and wanton, sliding up along his thighs. “I'm pretty good at this kind."

  "I know. I count on it. Come on now.” He wrapped his hands around Rig's ass and helped, spreading those cheeks wide.

  "Now.” Rig got settled and just sank down, body pulling him in and holding him like they'd never been apart. Hell, yes. Fucking sweet.

  His head dropped forward, resting against Rig's as a low, happy moan dragged up out of him. “Ride,” he murmured, hands wrapping around Rig's waist and tugging him up.

  "Pushy old man.” Rig laughed, bouncing on him, that sweet belly tight as a board.

  Oh, he could handle being called pushy for that. He helped Rig do it again, and then again, groaning as Rig's body slid on his cock.

  "Mmm. You like that.” Rig grinned, squeezed and then did it again.

  "Fuck, yeah.” Rig knew what he liked, how he liked it.

  "Faster."

  "Uh-huh.” The fucking couch started creaking, both of them giving the old thing one hell of a workout.

  He rolled his hips, groaning as the amazing sensation of being buried inside Rig's body.

  The kiss he got took the top of his head right off, stealing his breath and making him feel like he was a Goddamn kid again. He ran a hand through those little blond curls, losing himself in that kiss, in the next one and the one after that. Then Rig started squeezing him, gripping his cock with every thrust of that tongue. He wrapped his other hand around Rig's prick, tugging, wanting them to go off at the same time.

  "Soon.” Rig jerked, lips clinging to his.

  "Uh-huh.” He pressed his thumb into Rig's slit and slammed into his Rabbit's gland at the same time. “Now."

  His own orgasm shot through him, and he filled Rig up. Heat poured over his fingers, Rig's muscles rippled around his prick. He shuddered as Rig's prick drew out his pleasure, made it repeat in slow waves. And then it was gone and there was just that relaxed, boneless feeling, Rig's body still holding him in.

  "Oh. Blue. Damn.” Rig cuddled in, lips on his shoulder, tongue tracing his skin.

  "Yeah. Damn.” He rubbed his cheek against Rig's head, and then relaxed back against the couch.

  He ran his hands up and down Rig's back in slow sweeps.

  It didn't take but a minute before Rig was sleeping again, holding onto him, dead to the world.

  "You're working too hard,” he growled softly.

  At the same time, this was an excellent spot for a nap and he had his very own human blanket. Settling a little further into the couch, he closed his eyes and joined Rig in dreamland.

  Chapter Nine

  Rig sat reading, chopsticks in hand, dipping his tuna roll into some soy, and ignoring Rock with everything he had in him.

  It was his night to come up with supper.

  And Mrs. Saito had made the sushi fresh.

  For them.

  Damn it.

  And if Rock didn't want to eat it, he didn't have to, but Rig would be damned if he fixed anything else.

  The sound of the front door opening and closing was loud and Dick's “Hey honey I'm home” broke the silence.

  "Ooo, is that sushi?"

  God, he loved that boy.

  "Yeah, Pretty. Made fresh. Come eat.” He stuck his tongue out at Rock and went back to reading.

  "Are there any shellfish ones? Those are my favorite.” Dick grabbed his book and gave him a kiss and then gave Rock one before sitting down, all smiles.

  "Yep. Crab and lobster.” Rig pushed the tray over. “Tuna, too. How was your day?"

  "Good. Better now.” Dick grinned at him and grabbed a half dozen of the seafood rolls. His Pretty peeled off the outsides and spread the rolls out so that instead of sushi there was a pile of crab and lobster flesh. Without a word, Dick took Rock's clean plate and replaced it with the crab and lobster one and then helped himself to a variety for himself. “How ‘bout you, Rig?"

  He arched an eyebrow at Dick, but didn't bitch. “Not bad. Busy. Glad it's the weekend."

  "Cool.” Dick leaned over and opened the utensil drawer, grabbing a fork and passing it to Rock. His Blue looked put out, but took the fork and started eating. “Mrs. Saito's grandson still doing well?"

  "He is, yeah.” Rig put his book down, nodded. “She says he's starting up a band, can you believe it?"

  "Yeah? Cool. I bet she made dessert too, then."

  Rock looked a little more interested all of a sudden.

  Rig nodded, grinned. “Almond cookies. They're good. She also invited us down to the restaurant, says she put in a karaoke bar."

  Dick chuckled and gave him a wink. “Oh, I bet Rock would love that."

  Rock grunted and Dick just looked at Blue. “What was that, Rock?"

  Rock put another forkful of lobster in his mouth and didn't say a word.

  He reached out with his foot, rubbing Dick's calf. “I got the stuff to make cinnamon rolls one morning this week, too."

  No reason to not cheer his Blue a little.

  "The ones with the icing?” Dick gave him a happy smile.

  "Yep. And the pecans."

  "Yum."

  "Sounds good,” grunted Rock.

  He nodded and stood, old bones creaking and cracking as he stretched. One day he was going to have to start working out. “Y'all got plans tonight?"

  "Yes, we do,” said Dick, voice sure. Rock gave him a look. Dick nodded. “We do. Every single one of us is going into that bedroom and fucking our brains out."

  His grin was slow, absolutely unstoppable. Yes, loved his men—the grouchy one, the pretty one, the kid, the rock. Loved them. “We are?"

  "We are.” Dick nodded firmly.

  Rock chuckled, hand going to stroke Dick's cheek. “You're a good kid, Dick. Let's go fuck."

  Rig took off down the hall. “Last one in sleeps in the wet spot!"

  He knew exactly what was going to happen and sure enough, there came his marines, wrestling like crazy. He was undressed and bouncing in the middle of the bed by the time they hit the door. They landed up breathless and half dressed, tumbling onto the bed.

  The wrestling turned to kissing, hard bodies rubbing together. He leaned back against the headboard, pumping his cock slowly and watching, encouraging his prick to fill. Sexy bastards.

  Dic
k pushed Rock over onto his back, kissing him hard, just taking Blue's mouth.

  "Mmm...” Yeah. Fucking gorgeous. He moaned, arching into his hand.

  The kiss ended and his marines did that silent agreement thing they did and as one turned and pounced him, Dick's mouth covering his, Rock's taking his nipple. He moaned into Dick's mouth, hands holding them both. Oh. Oh, shit. Yeah. Fuck.

  Two hot pricks pressed against his legs, four warm hands slid over his skin, two mouths driving him wild. Shit, they were good at that. He shuddered hard, thighs parting.

  Rock growled around his titty.

  Dick laughed and licked at his lips. “That meant slut."

  "Mm-hmm. Yours. His. More.” He grinned, lips parting for his Pretty. “Fuck, you taste good."

  "Mmm, sushi.” Dick chuckled, feeding him that sweet tongue. He snorted and took Dick's mouth, wrapping his lips around the hot tongue and sucking hard. Dick moaned into his mouth, hips humping against him.

  Rock's hand slid around his cock, down to his balls and beyond. He shifted, searching for that touch, those fingers, refusing to let Dick's tongue go. Rock's thumb slid along his cock, pinkie finger tickling at his hole.

  Whimpering, he grinned against Dick's lips. “Son of a bitch is going to drive me to drinking with his teasing."

  Dick chuckled. “You love it."

  "You know it.” He met those round, bright riverstone eyes, smiling. “I know what I need."

  "Sexy and smart."

  Rock growled. “Are you two chitter chattering or fucking?"

  "Sweet nothings, Rocketman. Counts as foreplay.” He winked, grinning up at Dick.

  "Foreplay.” Rock sounded unimpressed.

  "How's this for foreplay.” That pinky slipped into him, smooth and deep.

  "Oh ... More.” He nodded, head falling back into the pillows.

  Rock chuckled. “Fucking foreplay."

  Dick laughed, mouth taking his again, feeding him the happy noises. He reached down for Dick's prick, hand stroking slow and easy, matching those sweet noises that were pouring over him.

  "Oh fuck, Rig.” Dick pushed into his hand, moaning sweetly.

  A second of Rock's fingers slid into him.

  "Oh, yeah. Blue, listen to Dick. Fuck Rig.” He dove back into the kiss, working that amazing, long fucking cock for all it was worth, hips bucking on Rock's fingers.

  "I thought you wanted foreplay,” growled Rock, a third fucking thick finger pushing into him.

  He spread wide, moaning, taking Rock in, fucking loving it. God, yes. More. It wasn't long before those fingers were leaving him, Rock sliding between his legs. “Enough fucking foreplay."

  Slick, warm and hard, Rock's prick filled him up.

  "Fucking heaven."

  Dick's eyes caught his and they bought smiled, the whispered, “No, fucking Rig,” tickling between them.

  His Pretty picked up Rock's rhythm, prick sliding through his hand as Rock fucked him. They moved together, groaning and fucking and rocking and, oh, fuck, it was good. So sweet. So fucking right. Dick's hand slid around his cock, completing the circle.

  Oh...

  He whimpered into Dick's mouth, turning them a little so his Blue could push into the kiss.

  Nothing like a little a three way kiss, their tongues, their flavors, their lips all tangled together. Easy and familiar and hot and sexy and good—Rig didn't know what he'd done to deserve this, but he hoped he'd be doing it forever. Without a word they sped, pushed harder, faster, sending each other soaring.

  He didn't know whether he came first, or Dick did, but Rock was right behind them, filling him with heat. The kiss kept going, went from hot and hungry to sated and lazy.

  Rig hummed into their mouths, happy and warm. “Could stay here forever, just like this."

  "I can live with that,” murmured Dick.

  "Good,” growled Rock, settling next to him.

  "We'll break for cinnamon rolls on Sunday."

  Rig nodded. “Yeah, Blue. With icing and pecans, just like you like them."

  "Good.” Rock was soon snoring, arm solid around him, hand on Dick's hip.

  His Pretty's hand slid into his, lips nibbling along his skin.

  He squeezed Dick's hand, smiling into those eyes. “Yeah. Right here. Forever. Just like this."

  "You bet. Forever.” Dick kissed him softly and settled, warm and solid.

  His marine bookends.

  God, but he loved them.

  Chapter Ten

  Jesus, look at the rain.

  Rig stood in the doorframe, washing the storm pound, the waves crashing on the ground. He'd gotten the dogs in and settled, got candles ready. Blankets all on the sofa. He was ready to spend a weekend in the terrible weather with his men. Now he needed said men to get home.

  The boys had called when they left the gym, but the weather and the traffic were terrible and it had been over an hour and the temptation to go get them was huge.

  He wouldn't do it, but he wanted to.

  The dogs suddenly started barking, running to the front door. He followed, watching Rock's truck come crawling slowly down the road.

  "Oh, thank God.” He grabbed two umbrellas and headed for the porch. The truck finally pulled in, his marines climbing out, Rock swearing a blue streak. He hurried out, tossing Dick one of the umbrellas as he got closer. “Shit, I was worrying on y'all."

  His Pretty caught the umbrella and opened it, leaning in to grab their bags. “Yeah, you weren't the only one."

  "It's fucking evil out there,” growled Rock, crowding under his umbrella with him.

  "I have a roast done. Candles lit. Blankets. Two days off and nothing but storms."

  "Pie?” Rock asked hopefully.

  Dick chuckled and slipped a kiss on his cheek before bending to greet the dogs at the door.

  "Brownies. They keep better if we lose the lights.” He had towel waiting, tossing them over. “Y'all want beer or Irish coffee?"

  Rock's “Beer,” and Dick's “Irish coffee,” came together and Dick snapped his towel at Rock. “Come on, live a little."

  Rig chuckled, shook his head. “There's both. I want whiskey."

  Dick finished toweling off first, coming up and wrapping around him from behind. “Hey."

  "Hey.” He leaned a second. “Glad y'all are home."

  Real glad. The storm could rage and rage now.

  "Yeah. We know how to beat a storm.” Dick's lips slid over his neck, tongue wet and hot on his skin.

  The lightning crashed outside, the lights flickering. “God damn."

  "We got wood in?” Rock asked.

  "Not enough. Let me go grab a few more handfuls.” He headed out toward the shed, grabbing his hat on the way.

  "Go sit down, the kid and I'll do it,” growled Rock, his marines following him, the dogs traling along behind.

  "I got it.” Fuck, it was raining hard.

  "We'll all do it.” Dick had to shout to be heard over the noise of the surf and rain and wind.

  It didn't take them long with all three working, but by the time they were done, they were all completely soaked through, and there was a trail of water through the house.

  "Goddamn.” He shook the water off his hat, stripped his soaked t-shirt off.

  "Keep going,” growled Rock. “You've just gotten over that cold—you don't need to be in soaking clothes.” Rock gave him a sharp look and then turned his attention to the fireplace, building it up.

  "Shit, it's nasty out there.” Dick came over, fingers on the top button of his jeans, playing with it.

  "Yeah.” He was shaking like a leaf. Shit. He seemed to have lost any extra padding he had, being sick, and the cold just ate at him.

  Dick had him stripped down in short order and grabbed a blanket off the couch, wrapping it around his shoulders. “You want that whiskey?” Dick asked against his lips.

  "Mmm. I'll get it, Pretty.” Oh, better. Honest. Better.

  "I'll get it. You sit and admire Rock's fire-bu
ilding skills.” A warm kiss was placed on his lips, and then Dick pushed him down onto the couch. He curled into the blankets, hands sliding on his thighs and sides, trying to warm himself up.

  Dick came back before Rock had finished building the fire, clothes gone, three glasses in his hands. “Got one for each of us."

  "Good deal.” He opened the blanket, welcoming Dick in.

  His Pretty sat and curled right into him, body far warmer than his own, for all Dick had been just as soaked through.

  "Shit, you're like an icicle!” Dick wrapped both arms around him, hands rubbing over his skin.

  "Chilly out there.” Dick was like a little furnace. “Hurry up, Rock. You'll freeze."

  "Almost done."

  Dick's head rested on his shoulder, and his Pretty whistled loudly when Rock finally stood and started stripping down.

  "Mmm. Look at that man.” The firelight made their marine glow, muscles clearly outlined. Rig went through on after another, mentally touching each one.

  "Prime stud,” murmured Dick, cock rising in his lap. Rock grinned over, flexed for them.

  "Mmm. Rock. ‘mere.” He leaned back against Dick, held his arms open.

  "Come get warm,” added Dick.

  Rock grinned. “The two of you think you're hot, do you?” He winked and came over, joining them, hot and solid.

  "Not me. The kid is, though. Hot as hell."

  His pretty was hot as hell against him.

  "You're hot, too, Rig. Sex on legs.” Dick's mouth slid over his shoulder, the words sliding on his skin.

  "Kid's right. Sex on fucking legs."

  "It's a talent. Come here, Rocketman. Need you too.” The lightning flashed again, the whole house seeming to shake.

  "Jesus fuck, that's a nasty storm.” Rock pressed close, cock pushing hard against his belly, an answering heat and hardness against his thigh, his Pretty's need just as strong.

  "'sposed to be that way for a couple days.” He lifted his chin, begging a kiss, looking into those blue, blue eyes.

  "Good thing we're all home then.” Rock smiled and brought their mouths together, tongue sliding on his lips as Dick's mouth continued to nibble the skin of his shoulder. Home. Home, hell yes. Rig melted—finally relaxed and warm and settled, things back to rights, like they ought to be.