Whiskey Dreams (11 page)

John kissed back with equal passion, and arched, thrusting his hips against Brom’s.

“Christ, John.” Brom ended their kiss as his head began to swim, his thoughts muddling as John’s cock ground against his. Even through their clothing, it felt unbelievably good. Feeling every bit of the tension that had been mounting inside him since he’d pleasured John the night before, Brom thrust back, pressing John deep into the mattress. “Are you sure you’re ready for this—” he flexed his hips once more, unable to resist “—again?” He hated how he’d ended things the first time, but God, he was eager to try again.

“Yes.” John’s cock slid slow and hard up the length of Brom’s as he twisted beneath him, placing his hands in Brom’s hair and burying his fingers in his locks. With surprising force, he pulled Brom close and their mouths collided.

John must have truly forgiven him, for he held nothing back as he slid his tongue into the deep hollow of Brom’s mouth. When it had gone on for a while, and Brom felt so hard he couldn’t stand it, he pulled away, putting a deliberate end to the kiss.

With as much speed as he could muster, Brom began to divest John of his clothing. Even the first flash of the man’s collarbone was a thrill, and the more layers he removed, the deeper Brom’s need grew. Tracing the faint stripe of hair that ran down John’s chest and disappeared beneath the waist of his breeches, he slipped a hand inside, unable to resist letting his fingers brush the head of John’s cock, even if only for a moment. The breeches came off quickly, along with shoes and stockings, and at last, Brom had John right where he wanted him – naked, in his bed.

John rose to his knees and pressed his hands to Brom’s chest, his fingers flying over the buttons of Brom’s waistcoat and skimming beneath the layers below, stripping him until they were both completely bare. Kneeling opposite of John on the bed, Brom shivered with desire at the sight of the man across from him. John was all lean muscle, glossy hair and incredible grey eyes. Brom pulled the ribbon from John’s hair, letting it spill over his shoulders. Perfect.

John leaned forward, and his erection brushed Brom’s, skimming down the length of it. Brom groaned and seized John around the waist, pulling him close. With their bodies tight against one another’s and their cocks trapped together, he sighed, letting his breath stream over John’s jaw. Pressing his lips against it, he kissed a trail from near John’s throat to his lips, one of which he took between his teeth, biting lightly.

John moaned, digging his fingers into Brom’s shoulders and leaning against him. His breath was hot, and his lip trembled in response to Brom’s bite. An incoherent sound rose from the depths of his throat – a curse, or perhaps a plea, it was impossible to tell. But Brom could feel John’s enjoyment radiating from him, causing him to grip Brom’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. He let go of John’s lip and licked where he had bitten, smoothing his tongue over John’s slick mouth and past his teeth, invading the wet recess beyond.

John kissed back, bit back and moaned, flexing his hips against Brom’s, causing their cocks to press together with unbearable pressure. Brom was left feeling bereft when John pulled away, panting, his lips inflamed. He had a wild look in his grey eyes, and for a moment they locked with Brom’s. Then he dropped onto all fours, facing away from Brom, who was still on his knees. In one quick motion, John thrust back, pressing his ass against Brom’s groin in demand.

“Christ,” Brom breathed, his balls drawing up tight against his body as he looked down at John’s bowed head, perfect back and tightly-curved ass, which was as snug against his groin as it could possibly be. His cock rested on top, thick and deep-pink and aching, and it would only take a moment to put it inside John. “Christ.” He ran a hand wistfully over one of John’s hips, letting his fingertips skim over one half of his ass and dip into the cleft between to touch him, teasing his entrance and groaning when John thrust back against him, nearly causing Brom’s fingers to breach him, to delve inside. “No, not like this.” He wasn’t about to risk making the same mistake he had last time. “On your back.”

After a moment’s pause, John sank onto the mattress, rolling over to face Brom.

Brom lowered himself on top of John, settling between his thighs. “I want to see your face when I take you – I want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s you.” He reached over the edge of the bed with one hand, retrieving the small glass bottle he’d set on top of the bedside table in preparation for what was about to happen.

John was breathing hard beneath Brom, his eyes still wide, alight with a feral gleam that Brom recognized as the burning, undeniable need for release. He wasted no time in pulling the stopper out of the bottle and pouring a little oil into his palm before rising onto his knees again and smoothing it over his cock, making it gleam. This wet, he’d slide inside John’s tight channel in an instant. His cock throbbed at the thought, and his balls ached at the sight of John sprawled before him, open and ready. With his oil-slicked hand, he fondled John’s balls before reaching below, slipping a finger into him.

John arched against the mattress and thrust down with his hips, burying Brom to the knuckle inside him. With a feeling of relief, Brom added another finger – clearly, their first time hadn’t made John reluctant to let Brom enter him again. In fact, John’s channel tightened around Brom’s fingers, gripping them tight and making him wish he’d thrust his cock inside instead. Withdrawing, he lowered himself between John’s legs again.

Brom took his cock in his hand and guided it inside John’s body, locking gazes with the man as he slid inside him in one long, slow thrust.

John squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, wrapping his arms tightly around Brom’s neck. The embrace increased the heat burning inside Brom, and he leaned into it, pressing a brief kiss against John’s lips as he rocked his hips. “How is it?” His voice came out rougher than he’d expected, as if John’s hold was choking him from the inside. Maybe it was.

“As good as the first time,” John breathed. “No, better.”

Brom thrust again, a shiver of delight running down his spine when John writhed beneath him, embracing him even more tightly. “I didn’t think the first time was good for you.” Brom lifted a hand and smoothed a thumb across John’s cheekbone, tracing the faint scrape that reddened it.

“It was. At the end I was confused, angry – but it felt good. And now I know the truth.” He bore down with his hips, sinking Brom to the root.

“Damn it,” Brom breathed. “You’ll make me spill myself too soon. Be still.” He tried not to sound as if John’s admission of pleasure had him glowing from the inside – which it did – as he unwrapped John’s arms from around his neck and pressed them against the mattress, pinning them down. He missed the feeling of John wrapped tightly around him, but liked looking down at him while he was unable to move much, other than a faint rocking of his hips that sent fresh heat surging through Brom’s entire being.

Brom thrust hard into him and groaned in satisfaction when John cried out. Taking the cue, he thrust harder, faster, his heartbeat escalating along with John’s gasps. As the intensity built, he kept his gaze on John’s face, refusing to give himself the chance to forget exactly which man he was making love to. The sight of John’s damp lips, parted in ecstasy, and the dark lashes fringing his closed eyes, kept Brom in the present, and the ghosts of the past at bay.

John’s cries were wordless, but the meaning was clear in their sheer rawness, in the way that his channel tightened around Brom’s cock, threatening to milk him dry. Liquid warmth hit Brom’s belly as John came, and the sensation sent his desire spiraling out of control. With a deep groan, he thrust hard, spilling himself deep inside John.

It had been so long since he’d known such absolute release that he’d forgotten what it felt like. He rode the sensation to its peak and beyond, stilling only when the pleasure faded and his motions became faintly painful. As he withdrew, the bliss remained. Hot, wet and feeling strangely light, he lowered himself onto the bed beside John.

A shimmer of heat seared his skin when John buried his hands in Brom’s hair, his fingers tight against his skull, and drew him close for a last, lingering kiss. Brom had thought his body incapable of experiencing more erotic sensation, at least for a while, but was proven wrong. Heat unfurled inside him and made his lips tingle as they melded with John’s, and the other man’s breath filled his mouth. Finally, he let his eyes drift shut, and knew he wasn’t in danger of forgetting it was John beside him.

****

Brom rode the gelding he’d worked with the day before, using the trip as an excuse to exercise the horse and to help it grow accustomed to the surprises it might encounter on the road. It had spooked once, when a fox had darted across their path, but otherwise, they’d passed the morning at a moderate pace, with no significant issues. Now, Brom slid from the saddle and put a rope halter on the animal before tying it to a tree by the edge of a small cemetery by an even smaller church. It had taken him nearly two hours to reach the place, which lay in a village about the size of Sleepy Hollow, but already, he felt that the journey had been well worth it.

Walking among the grave markers, he scanned the names as he pulled a small bouquet from his pocket. It was composed mostly of soft pink primroses, with the occasional wildflower mixed in – those, he’d plucked from an empty field, while he’d taken the primroses from the small flower garden his mother had left behind. The petite blossoms cascaded over his fist in a muted riot of pastel colors, the combination of soft shades reminding him of youth and innocence. A certain set of carved block letters caught his eye, and he halted before a modest stone.

Sarah Evers. He’d never met the girl, but had heard many a story about her from her brother. Though she’d died young, and only a couple years ago, grass had sprung up thick and green over her grave, as if the earth had never been disturbed.

Kneeling before the stone that bore her name, Brom set his bouquet at the foot of the marker. The green ribbon he’d tied the stems with gleamed faintly in the sunlight, a little lighter than the grass. He reached out and ran a thumb over one of its fraying ends one last time, feeling the evidence of several years’ hard wear, then rose, exiting the cemetery and leaving the ribbon where it belonged.

His horse stood by the tree he’d tied it to, eyeing the road impatiently. Brom unknotted the rope and climbed into the saddle, equally eager to be on his way. John had promised to accompany Brom on a hunt that afternoon, after he finished his first day of teaching at the schoolhouse. Brom doubted they’d actually accomplish much in the way of hunting, but that was all right. The thought of being alone with John again called to Brom, drawing him back to Sleepy Hollow.

About the Author

Ranae Rose lives on the US East Coast and is an avid reader and writer who can’t resist a good love story, and the hotter the better. You can learn more about Ranae and her books at:
www.ranaerose.com

Ranae loves to hear from readers! She can be reached at:
[email protected]

Connect with Ranae on Twitter: @Ranae_Rose

Read on for a preview of Haunted Passions, the sequel to Whiskey Dreams.

Haunted Passions

Losing one’s heart to another man is dangerous enough without the added threat of a supernatural terror. But that hasn’t stopped John Crane and Brom Bones from falling hard in love – with each other, and with the alluring Katrina Van Tassel. When Brom becomes engaged to Katrina, John is sure the wedding will tear him and Brom apart, and their love sparks a struggle between passion and loyalty. But Brom is determined to keep both of his lovers, and Katrina has some secret desires of her own – desires that haunt only the wildest of John’s dreams and blur the lines they’ve all been fighting not to cross. Is it possible for three people to be in love? Their passion won’t be enough to keep them together if something isn’t done about the evil that’s haunting Sleepy Hollow: a headless horseman who rides to kill.