Cole McGinnis 05 - Down and Dirty (25 page)

“Ichi? You guys okay?” More concern, heavy and without censure. “I didn’t fuck things up between you, did I? ’Cause if I did, I’ll fix it. Promise.”

“He and I are good. Ichi—your brother’s a lot like you, you know that? Talks the shit out of things.” He laughed, recalling Jamie’s accusing eyes when his son flung a supposed unrequited lusting for Cole at his face. “Ichi’s good. I think he went up to the roof to catch lung cancer. I’m going to see if I can break him of that habit.”

“Good luck,” Cole grunted. “I got Jae to cut back a lot, but sometimes… I think it’s ’cause everyone over there in Korea smokes. Or it seems like they do. Maybe it’s that way for Japan too.”

“Maybe.” Bobby’s words were caught in his throat, and he tried to clear away the lump lodged behind his tongue with a hard swallow. “So you know that key I gave Jamie?”

“The one you weren’t sure he was going to use?” Cole laughed. “Let me guess, he used it… and caught you and my brother doing things he’s going to have to bleach his eyeballs out to get the image out of his brain.”

“Fuck, got a crystal ball over there, McGinnis?” Bobby chuckled as he stood up. He headed into the kitchen, then pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“How did it go?”

“Not… good,” Bobby admitted, tucking the phone against his shoulder so he could open the bottle. “This is where I tell you about how right you are and you can gloat.”

“No gloating,” Cole murmured. “Can’t be any worse than me telling Mike.
He
punched me so hard I almost lost my front tooth. Wait, he didn’t punch you, did he? I mean, dude, that’d be twice in one day.”

“No punching… at least not with fists. It got kind of scary there. And shit, he about called me a pedophile for a second, then—”

“Bobby… no way. No
fucking
way.”

“Yeah, but he was pissed off, and I think his head took him someplace he didn’t really intend to go. Imagine that, saying shit without thinking. You’d think I was his old man or something.”

“Fair enough. You’ve definitely said some shit without your brain being connected to your tongue. Today for instance. Good example there.”

“Yep, that’s at least one time I was thinking about.”

“But you guys are okay? Ichi? He okay?”

“Jamie and I are. Your brother?” Bobby took a long gulp of water. “I don’t know yet. I think so. He was okay when I left, but he’s had time to think about this. Might be too much—”

The front door creaked open, and Ichiro walked in, his mouth turning into an O when he spotted the phone against Bobby’s ear. Ducking his head in a quick bow of apology, he mimed brushing his teeth, then headed to the bathroom, walking a few steps backward so he could make elaborately campy fish lips at Bobby.

“Or he could be just fine. He snuck in smelling like a chai latte.” He listened as Ichi splashed about in the bathroom, the sound of running water coming through the open door. “I’m going to go see how he’s doing.”

“Sure.” Cole’s yawn was loud enough to be heard over the phone. “Shit, sorry. I’d just gotten to sleep when you called. It’s been a long fucking week.”

“Tell me about it. Hey.” Bobby caught Cole before he hung up. “
We
okay?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t we be? Okay, so you’re screwing my younger brother, and if you guys fuck it up, I’ve got to decide who I’m going to kill, but other than that, it’s all good,” Cole teased. “No, we’re good. I thought you knew that.”

“Just making sure, Princess,” he murmured quietly. “I don’t want to lose you, man. You mean a lot to me.”

“Wow, must have hit you harder than I thought.” He laughed at Bobby’s soft invitation to go fuck himself. “Well, you mean a lot to me too, dude. I’ll talk to you later. I’d say tomorrow, but it’s already that.”

“Hey, one last thing.” He shook his head, still unable to believe the drop-and-run bomb Jamie’d laid on him. “Apparently, while you’re going to be an uncle, I’m going to be a grandfather.”

“What the fuck?” Cole choked. “Jamie?”

“You know any other kid I’ve got? Because, dude, if you do, that’ll be even worse, because I got Marsha knocked up when I was a damned kid myself. Yeah, Jamie. His ex-girlfriend, Sara.”

“Oh, man, I liked her. She’s his ex now? How long? What happened?”

“Yeah, a couple of months now. Apparently they wanted different things. He wanted to move in, and she wanted to move on. Didn’t see spending her life with him.” Ichiro padded out of the bathroom, and Bobby smiled at his lover, mouthing he’d be right off the phone. Ichi gave him a quick nod, then headed into the bedroom, disappearing behind the wall of bookshelves. “I think he’s actually okay with it. She had it right. They were more friends than lovers. He was just… comfortable with her.”

“Well, now she’s not going to be able to get rid of him.” Cole chuckled. “Dude, you’re a grandpa. That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, let’s see if your brother thinks so. He might not want to be around now that there’s probably going to be diapers and vomit in his near future.”

“Dude, at your age, he’d be dealing with that shit in a couple of years anyway.”

“Say good night, Princess.”

“Good night, Princess,” Cole rasped. “But really, I love you, man, and congrats on the kid. You’re going to be great for it to have around. Kiss my brother for me… but no tongue. ’Cause, you know, that would be weird.”

T
HE
SHEETS
were still cool when Bobby came in from the front of the loft. Ichiro lay staring up at the open ductwork and listened as his lover checked the locks on the doors, then turned off the lights, plunging the loft into semidarkness with only the sleepily murmuring city outside to illuminate the cordoned-off spaces. Ichi found himself regretting drawing closed the curtains in the bedroom as Bobby shucked off his clothes, then stretched, working the kinks out of his muscles before climbing into bed.

If there was one thing Ichiro loved to do, it was watch a naked Bobby Dawson move.

His eyes adjusted in time to see Bobby slide his cutoffs down. The fabric rippled down Bobby’s tight ass, shadows pooling in the recessed dimples as he bent over to pull his legs free. Washed in faint blue-and-gold light, Bobby’s muscles bulged and stretched as he moved about the area picking up his cast-off clothes, then tossing them into an open hamper near the wall.

He turned and caught Ichiro studying him, smiling when Ichi rumbled an appreciative purr. Bobby climbed onto the broad bed, then slid up the length of Ichi’s body, his hands leaving behind warm trails where he’d run them over Ichi’s skin.

Bobby was about to kiss Ichiro’s mouth when Ichi pulled back and grinned up at him. “So, you’re a grandfather now? I feel a bit dirty seducing you. Like you might not survive the sex.”

“Oh, I’ll show you how well I can survive anything you dish out, Sunshine,” Bobby growled, then bit Ichiro’s neck, making him gasp. “See if you can keep up with the old man, baby. I’m going to teach you things you never even dreamed of.”

“I grew up on manga,” Ichi teased. “I can imagine quite a lot.”

“No octopuses, okay?” Bobby pulled back. “That shit’s just weird.”

“
Tako
is for eating, not fucking,” he agreed. He was naked under the sheet, and Bobby let loose a low whistle as he unwrapped Ichiro’s body.

“Damn, you are pretty.” Working his fingers through Ichi’s, Bobby pulled their hands up over Ichiro’s head, pinning him to the bed. “Oh, I told your brother I’d give you a kiss for him, but—”

“We’ve already had your son in here. Let’s not bring Cole into it too.” Ichiro groaned as Bobby’s teeth caught on the ridge of his neck. “Uh, Bobby….”

“You know, I like hearing you call out my name. Silly, huh?” He bit down again, this time hard enough to leave a mark, and Ichi writhed under him, squirming to get free. “Nope. Stay there.”

“Active participation.” The protest sounded weak, even to Ichi’s ears, and Bobby chuckled.

“I want to just look at you for a bit, Sunshine.” He sat up on his knees, straddling Ichiro’s hips.

There couldn’t have been enough illumination for Bobby to see much, maybe skin washed with blue from the lights outside and tinted tangerine where the streetlamps bled through, but Bobby still took his time staring down at Ichiro. After a long minute, he shifted, uncomfortable at the scrutiny, and Bobby’s smile cut through the shadows on his rugged face.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ichi,” Bobby whispered, running his hands up over Ichi’s belly. His fingers prowled over Ichi’s stomach, then tickled at the ridges of his ribs before flicking over Ichi’s nipples. “Sometimes I wonder… fuck, not even sometimes…
all
the time, I wonder what you’re doing here with me—”

“Because you piss me off,” Ichi replied softly. “And I love you for it.”

No one’d ever gotten under his skin like Bobby had. For too long Ichi’d held himself above the fray of wanting or needing someone else. He’d sought out his own little rock to stand on once Megumi’d become his father’s wife, and nothing—no one—came close to his heart.

Not until a gruff, silvering handsome man eye-fucked him while he’d been meeting his favorite brother.

And even then, Ichi half hoped he would never see that man again—because the light in his eyes burned right through Ichiro’s defenses and into his soul.

“It’s hard to say that, you know? I love you.” Bobby nodded, ducking his face back down into the shadows. “I mean, I love my kid—I might not have liked him a couple of hours ago, but I love him. Your brother too. And yeah, I’m bringing them in here just for a second. Just so I can tell you—fuck, Sunshine, I just want you with me. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He pulled his hands off the pillows and raked his fingernails through the trail of hair running down Bobby’s stomach. Ichi stroked at the thick root of Bobby’s cock, then followed the length of his lover’s dick until he got to its damp slit. Smearing the wetness he found there onto his thumb, Ichi circled Bobby’s head, working it up to a sturdy girth. “Anything else you want to get off your chest? How much you hate traffic? Or crunchy peanut butter?”

“You’re driving me crazy there, baby,” Bobby growled. “Here I am trying to be romantic, and you’re—”

“I’m thinking this part of you is too far away from my mouth or my ass.” Ichi cocked his head, quirking a grin at the frustrated man. “Or did I ride you too hard earlier?” Frowning, he studied Bobby’s face. “Are you okay? I didn’t—”

“I can handle anything you dish out there,” he teased, lowering himself down to stretch out over Ichi’s body. “Anything at all.”

Bobby’s heat chased everything away, including Ichiro’s worries. Their hands tangled as their mouths met, tongues sliding against open lips, and Ichiro slid his knees apart to wrap his legs over Bobby’s hips. He couldn’t get enough of Bobby in his mouth or on his skin. One inch would be satiated, then left aching when Bobby’s lips or fingers moved on to somewhere else. A tug at his nipple cascaded down to his taint, and his ass clenched at the shock riding his nerves.

They went at each other hard and fast. He fumbled to get his fingers around Bobby’s thick cock, its shaft already slippery from Bobby’s leaking slit. His own dick wasn’t any better. Its skin was painfully tight, and if his balls roiled up into his groin any more, he’d have to yank them back down just to walk. And when Bobby’s hand slid up between his asscheeks, Ichiro heard himself groan and beg for more.

His delirious, aching cry was in Japanese, his English lost under the press of Bobby’s spit-slick fingers to the edge of his hole, but his lover caught the intent behind his words.

And pushed in.

Nothing in the world—
nothing
—came close to the feel of Bobby’s flesh sliding into his body. The man seemed to know exactly what to do—how to twist his fingers or drive his cock in—and Ichiro’s body sang in anticipation of Bobby taking him over the edge again.

“Need me here?” Bobby’s husky whisper gilded Ichiro’s want.

He couldn’t speak. Hell, Ichi couldn’t even find his tongue in the dry confines of his desire-slackened mouth. He could only ride down Bobby’s fingers, trying to feel as much as he could of the man sliding between his legs.

Sex was… different. Larger, fuller… more than what it’d been before. Ichi wished he could slow down time so he could feel every bit of it before it whispered away into the past. He wanted to revel in the catch of Bobby’s nails on the crinkled velvet of his sac, and even the pinch of the man’s fingers sliding around his rim was a sensation Ichi could relive forever.

But the night slipped off around them, and with each passing stroke of the clock’s minute hand, Bobby ratcheted up Ichiro’s burgeoning want. Two fingers became three in a slide of flesh and the cold addition of lubricant. The slush of oil hit Ichi’s ring, and his ass clenched at the sudden chill before Bobby stoked up the heat again.

He was fuller than he’d ever been. For a wild second Ichiro wondered if Bobby’d slipped his entire fist into him—then oddly, a passing regret of emptiness as Bobby pulled free.

“Need to be there, Ichi,” Bobby warned him.

He didn’t need it—the warning. Instead, he needed an eternity of the man sliding deep into him, hitting spots of pleasure until Ichiro could no longer see the difference between light and dark.

And with a single plunge of his sheathed cock against Ichiro’s hole, Bobby was in, and Ichiro felt himself falling.

Bobby folded his arms around Ichi’s shoulders, pulling him up close. His cock was trapped between them, rolled through the sweat and spent seed they’d caught on their bellies. The tickle of hair around his cock head nearly made Ichiro laugh, but the press of hard, velvety steel through his hole kept his body too overwhelmed with sensations for him to do anything more than ride the smashing waves cresting over him.

“Hold on to me, Sunshine,” Bobby ordered.

He rode Ichi. There was no other word for the hard, rocketing plunge of Bobby’s cock into his heat. Ichi clenched in, trying to milk Bobby along, but soon all he could do—all he wanted to do—was lift his hips to slam his ass on Bobby’s shaft. The bed creaked, swaying with their movements, and someone—one of them—cried out with the ache of tightened balls.