Safe in His Arms (5 page)

detected, which had been absent in Jesse. Russell had grown since that relationship. He

was ready for something more, but until now no one had caught his interest or sparked

his desire.

What would it be like to harness the power he sensed in Hank? To claim it? He

sensed Hank needed bringing down a peg or three, and Russell knew he was the man

who could do it.

But was he ready, after all this time, to risk getting involved again with a man who

needed so much?

He had tumbled headlong for Jesse, bewitched by his handsome charm and his

seeming adoration. But, as much as it hurt Russell to admit it, Jesse had never loved

him. It had taken Russell a long time to understand that Jesse‘s brand of love wasn‘t

really love at all, but need. Jesse had looked outward instead of inward for happiness

and this, coupled with his inability to give, tore the relationship apart.

Russell hadn‘t been blameless—he‘d fed into the need and the lust, confusing them

for love. He‘d ignored the signs, hoping his love would be enough for them both.

Was this man to whom he found himself so attracted cut of the same sassy, arrogant

cloth? Was Russell forgetting the hard won lessons he‘d learned and letting his little

head instead of his big head do his thinking?

Russell liked to think he was older and wiser now, and wouldn‘t fall into the traps

that had snared him in the past. Lust did not equal love, no matter how powerful its

allure or how sweet its promise. Yet as he stared into Hank‘s dark, glittering eyes, he

felt the pull.

~*~

―What can I get you to drink?‖

Russell shrugged. ―I‘m easy.‖

―Obviously.‖ Hank smirked.

Russell fixed him with a gaze that for some reason left Hank feeling like a ten-year-

old. Hank looked away, focusing on his wine collection until he felt the heat drain from

his face. ―I have an excellent cabernet—Far Niente label. Or if you prefer white, how

about a pinot blanc? I have several bottles of Vintners Reserve left.‖

Hank realized he was probably wasting good wine. Russell probably drank Pabst

Blue Ribbon or some equally nauseating swill. ―Anything‘s fine,‖ Russell said,

confirming Hank‘s suspicions. ―I don‘t usually drink on the job. Whatever you‘re

having is fine.‖

Hank pulled out the bottle of pinot blanc he‘d opened the night before from the

fridge. Taking two crystal goblets from the cabinet, he poured them each a glass. He

watched as Russell sipped his and was oddly gratified when he smiled his approval.

But Russell‘s reference to being on the job reminded Hank sharply that Russell was

only there to make a buck. Hank was annoyed to realize this bothered him and he

pushed the feeling away. Of course the guy was on the job. Hank would never have

brought home a big hulking bear like him from a club. He wouldn‘t have looked twice

at the guy in a social setting. This was a pure business transaction, he reminded himself.

Hank drained his glass and poured himself another, rapidly downing that one as

well. He set his glass down rather too hard on the granite countertop. ―Let‘s go upstairs.

I‘ll let you put your mouth where my money is.‖ He moved quickly, not waiting to see

if Russell was amused or insulted by his little joke, telling himself he didn‘t care.

He could hear the heavy tread of Russell‘s boots behind him. He led him past the

master bedroom to the guest room. He was feeling better now—back in control. The

wine was coursing nicely through his bloodstream and he could feel the power of his

position moving through his balls and making his cock hard. He pointed imperiously to

the floor.

―Unbuckle my pants and take out my cock,‖ he ordered. ―Make it worth my while

and maybe you‘ll get a good tip out of it.‖

Russell shook his head, a small smile appearing on his generous lips. ―I think you‘re

a little confused, Hank. I‘m not one of your boy toys. I don‘t respond well to orders.‖

He walked instead toward the wing-backed leather chair in a corner of the room and sat

down.

Putting his large hands on his knees, he leaned back as if he owned the place.

―Come over here, Hank.‖ The voice was gentle but the tone was compelling and, oddly,

Hank did as he was told. He stood uncertainly in front of the sitting man.

―Closer,‖ Russell said, reaching out. Hank allowed himself to be pulled closer until

he was standing between Russell‘s legs. In spite himself and despite the guy‘s

presumption, Hank had to admit he liked the feeling of those strong hands on his hips.

―Open your belt buckle and unzip your jeans,‖ Russell instructed. It was on the tip

of Hank‘s tongue to tell Russell to do it for him, but again, for a reason he couldn‘t

explain, he found himself obeying. He could feel his cock nudging against his briefs.

Russell smiled. Leaning down, he pressed his cheek against Hank‘s groin. He

rubbed his jaw against Hank‘s growing erection, while running caressing hands lightly

over Hank‘s ass. An involuntary shudder of pleasure passed through Hank‘s frame.

Pulling back, Russell said, ―Take down your pants, Hank. Underwear too.‖

Aroused, Hank pulled his jeans and underwear down his thighs and let his cock spring

out, watching Russell for his reaction.

Russell eyed Hank‘s cock and then looked up into his eyes. He licked his lips. ―I‘m

going to make you come using my hands and mouth, but there are a few rules. First one

is you will put your hands behind your head and keep them there, no matter what I do.

Do you think you can do that?‖

―What the hell?‖ Hank began, indignation for a moment overriding lust.

―Shh,‖ Russell said, still smiling. ―Maybe you‘re right. We‘re moving a little too

fast. Here, I‘ll help you.‖ Before Hank realized what Russell was doing, he took each of

Hank‘s wrists in his hands, leaned in and drawn them behind his back, crossing them

one over the other.

Hank was strong, but Russell was stronger. Hank thought of struggling, but was

distracted by Russell‘s lips moving with butterfly softness over Hank‘s abs. The

combination of his firm grip behind Hank‘s back and the sensual touch of his warm lips

somehow short-circuited Hank‘s rising protest.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Russell‘s mouth moving over his skin,

sliding slowly downward toward his straining, eager cock. Russell continued to hold

Hank‘s wrists behind his back, using only one hand. The other hand trailed down,

stroking Hank‘s bare ass and teasing along the crack.

At the same time, he touched the tip of Hank‘s cock with his tongue, licking the bit

of pre-cum that had formed there. His free hand came around to cup Hank‘s balls.

Hank shuddered and thrust forward, eager to fuck the guy‘s face.

Russell pulled back. ―Don‘t do that, Hank. That‘s rule number two. You will let me

set the pace.‖

―Hey, I call the shots—‖ Hank began.

Russell squeezed Hank‘s captured balls just enough to get his attention and looked

up into his eyes. ―Trust me for just a little while, okay? For once,
don’t
call the shots. Let

me guide you. Experience what I offer. Let yourself feel something new.‖

―There is nothing new. The bottom line is just getting off, one way or the other.‖

Hank had intended to make his words drip with disdain, but it hadn‘t quite come out

that way, as Russell moved his hand along Hank‘s shaft, drawing the thumb almost

roughly over the sensitive head. Hank grunted.

―Let me teach you a different way,‖ Russell replied. ―Sometimes letting go is the

key to getting what you need, even if it doesn‘t feel like it at first.‖As he spoke, Russell

lifted Hank‘s wrists, still held tightly behind him, forcing them up along Hank‘s back

until he winced with pain. At the same time, he closed warm lips over the head of

Hank‘s cock, his tongue dancing across the slit.

―Cut the psychobabble and do…ah…Jesus…‖ Hank‘s mind began to empty, as if

someone had tipped it, letting the thoughts slide out. Whoever the hell this guy was,

what he was doing felt good, so damn good that Hank found he didn‘t even mind the

tight, nearly painful grip on his wrists. In fact, it somehow heightened the pleasure

Russell was pulling from him.

―You ready, Hank? I‘m going to give you what you need, but you have to obey the

rules.‖ Russell smiled, but there was fire in his gaze. He released his viselike grip on

Hank‘s wrists. ―Keep your hands behind your back and don‘t move,‖ he ordered.

Hank‘s mouth was dry, his heart tripping, his cock throbbing. He found himself

nodding as he stared into the big man‘s deep blue eyes. He told himself it was part of

the game—the guy was just creating an atmosphere. If he wanted to pretend he was in

charge for a few minutes, Hank would go along.

Russell reached around him with his left hand, cupping one ass cheek as he leaned

down and teased the head of Hank‘s cock, licking in a slow, sensual circle. He kept

Hank‘s balls cupped in his other hand while he used just the tip of his tongue, swirling

it over the sensitive spot just below the crown.

When Russell licked up the length of the shaft, it was all Hank could do to keep

still. Russell lowered his head to take Hank‘s balls into his mouth, while at the same

time moving his fingers with a feathery touch over his shaft. Aching for more, Hank

forgot the rules. He jerked forward, intent on thrusting his cock deep into Russell‘s

throat and working it good.

Russell stopped what he was doing, withdrawing the sweet heat of his mouth and

the perfect stroke of his fingers. Hank moaned in frustration but refused to give the guy

the satisfaction of begging. Russell sat back, his eyebrows knitting, his mouth pulling

down into a frown.

For a horrible moment Hank thought he was going to stop altogether, but Russell

surprised him instead by wrapping his arms around Hank‘s waist. Russell rested his

cheek a moment on Hank‘s hip. Hank could feel the soft scruff of his goatee as Russell

turned his head, nuzzling lower toward his groin.

Hank ached for the return of Russell‘s hot mouth on his cock, but at the same time,

he couldn‘t deny he enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation of being held and stroked. He

always thought he liked his sex rough and fast, with his lover or purchased boy toy on

his knees. Maybe it was just because of this lousy month, without Reese to center him.

He was off his game, was all.

He still had his wrists clasped behind his back. Russell kissed and licked his skin.

Hank let out a soft moan and someone, maybe him, said please. He reached for the

sitting man, tentatively touching Russell‘s strong back. He slid his fingers over the

supple flesh, moving hands beneath the thin black fabric of Russell‘s shirt.

Hank sighed his pleasure as Russell‘s mouth again closed over the head of his cock.

Russell took his time, teasing, suckling, stroking, licking. He took Hank deep into his

throat for minutes at a time, milking the rising semen from Hank‘s balls and then

stopping just before he came, over and over again.

―Not yet, not yet,‖ Russell murmured. ―Not till I say so.‖

It felt so good, but Hank still had it somewhere in his mind to order Russell to the

floor so he could fuck him. Somehow he needed to reassert his control over this man

who was being paid to service him.

―Let go,‖ Russell whispered between kisses, giving Hank the disconcerting feeling

that he‘d somehow just read his mind. Russell moved his hands over Hank‘s skin,

stroking along his hips and ass. He circled the puckered entrance and played down the

sensitive skin between his ass and balls, his mouth still locked tight over Hank‘s

throbbing cock.

Russell moved his fingers back to Hank‘s entrance, again teasing and circling,

finally pressing the tip of his finger just inside. Hank opened his mouth with a thought

to protest the invasion, but found he couldn‘t form any coherent words. ―Ah,‖ he

managed, and ―mmmph…‖

As Russell held, stroked, sucked and teased him, speech continued to elude Hank,

and finally thought did as well. He surrendered himself to the white hot pleasure

eddying through his body. He was sweating and felt dizzy and his heart was beating

far too fast. He realized he was trembling and he couldn‘t seem to catch his breath.

His balls were tight and he knew Russell couldn‘t pull him back from the brink this

time. Seconds before he came, the wet, perfect suction was withdrawn, replaced by

insistent fingers that literally pulled the come from him.

―That‘s right,‖ he heard Russell say over the blood pounding in his ears. ―Come for

me, Hank. You‘ve earned it.‖ Hank‘s body was wracked with spasms and he cried out,

nearly doubling over as the most powerful orgasm he‘d ever had ripped through his