Chaser: Tabooo 3: Go Man Go Read online

  He fists his dick and strokes, needing friction, wanting to make Heath's eyes pop clean out of his head. He eyes Heath's dark erection, so stiff his cock has pointed up at his belly, and man, does Vanner like what he sees. "No striptease. Just a fuck. Gonna give me what I'm askin' for?"

  Heath hooks his foot around Vanner's ankle and pulls him. Vanner goes a' tumbling down. He lands on Heath, the bed bouncing, and right away he's lost in the tight, dry heat of Heath's skin, the wet warmth of Heath’s mouth, and the hard jut of his twin's cock sliding in the crease below his hip bone.

  Vanner groans and lets himself fly free. Better than he'd hoped, and it should only go up from here.

  ***

  Heath isn't any too sure he's not dreaming. If he is dreaming, it's a sweet night's sleep he doesn't ever want to wake up from.

  Lord have mercy. Back when he first started thinking about this and filling his head with "what if?" and "if I ever" and "if Vanner was to get drunk enough" he didn't have a clue that it could be this good.

  Maybe it's the way he can see hints of Vanner's nerves and fear underneath his bravado. Vanner's not been so vulnerable since they fell down in that valley a few states back, he shields himself too well, but Heath can read his twin. He knows Vanner's both terrified and too hungry to stop now.

  The power goes to Heath's head in one great big rush, making him feel as if he doesn't fuck his twin now, he'll explode.

  He's never broken in a virgin before. Seems right that they'll both be a first for one another; this is the way things should be. Which means that although he'd like nothing better than to flip Vanner over on his hands and knees and plunge right in, they're gonna have to work up to this.

  Vanner starts thrusting against him, then, hard dick slip-sliding on the tight skin of his belly and leaving tiny slick trails behind him from pure eagerness, and Heath has a damned hard time holding on to his plan to be a gentleman.

  "Slow down," he grunts, grabbing Vanner's ass -- not that that's any kind of a hardship. "You want to come and have this be over before it starts?"

  Vanner's hair flies out behind him as he shakes his head. "No. Nuh-uh." He sounds like he's gone and run a mile out in the burning sun, and feels right about as hot underneath his skin. Words, though, they don't agree with the way Vanner's moving his body. Desperate. Humping Heath's stomach as if he's trying to burrow through.

  Hurts a little, and that near about makes Heath crazy enough to abandon his forming plans in favor of rubbing off on his twin until they both burst in sticky puddles on his belly.

  That particular mental image draws him to a shuddering halt. Lord, no. He's not settling for anything else but what Vanner as good as promised him.

  If Vanner's still sure. "Say no now, if you want," Heath warns. "Stop me if you want, but do it now or there's no going back."

  A tremor runs under Vanner's skin. He doesn't say a word, but shakes his head and starts kissing a scorching path over Heath's collarbones. The man's fair wriggling with his eagerness.

  All the same, Heath's learned a few tests and tricks when it comes to assessing how much a man is really interested in. The mouth might lie; the body is incapable. Vanner's insistent hard-on not abating at all, that's a good sign.

  Just to make sure, Heath gently parts Vanner's naked ass cheeks and dips his fingers in to touch his twin's hole.

  Vanner shudders, but he doesn't say "no" or freeze up, just keeps kissing away, open-mouthed now, savaging kisses on Heath's collarbone that half-hurt and half drive him crazy with lust.

  That's good so far. Here's the real litmus test. Heath presses the tip of his forefinger to the tight wrinkles of skin. He's dry, so he doesn't try to penetrate. He's just giving Vanner a test run.

  Vanner stiffens. His back arches. For a second or three, he doesn't breathe.

  Heath watches his twin's tight-shut eyes, listens to his rapid breathing, and waits. He thinks he might explode if he doesn't get to fuck this snug, hot hole, but he's never been one to force himself and he won't stop now.

  Vanner finally exhales. "God almighty," he says, shaky. "That's weird as hell."

  Heath laughs, surprising himself. "At first, yeah." He starts drawing careful circles around the knotted muscle. "It gets better."

  "So show me." Vanner, bless him, bucks his hips and tries to push against Heath's finger. "Show me what you've got."

  And who can say no to an offer like that, made by a lusty man up to the challenge? God, Heath loves eager partners.

  He never, ever plans on taking another after Vanner, so it pleases him deep down to know he's made this as good as it can get so far.

  "You asked for it." Heath slaps Vanner's ass lightly. "Reach under the bed, on the side away from the door. I have some stuff."

  Vanner raises up enough to give Heath a funny look. "You're sure of yourself, huh?"

  "I just know you're easy." Heath laughs and squeezes Vanner's ass cheek. "Go on. It's a tube about the size of a lotion bottle."

  Vanner frowns as he rolls, reluctantly, far enough off Heath to hang over the edge of the bed and search. Heath, not one to miss out on an opportunity when it presents itself, follows him move for move. "Quit ogling my ass."

  "Not on your life." The devil seizes Heath by the scruff of the neck, which is the only explanation he has for the terrible urge he gets that he doesn't stop to think twice about. "Hold it right there, Vanner."

  "What the hell?" Vanner cranes to look back over his shoulder, giving Heath a brief glimpse of his twin's face right before he spreads Vanner's cheeks wide and puts his face between them.

  He's always loved this, giving and taking, the kinkier the better. The taste of a man is strongest here, rich and heavy. And the way neophytes react? Lord have mercy, it'll make a man feel like he's king of the world.

  Heath drags his tongue over Vanner's hole and damn near cackles at the way Vanner jackknifes near about in half.

  "What the hell?" Vanner demands, breathless. "My God… fuck! Fucking hell, Heath."

  Heath doesn't answer in words. He lets his tongue explain for him, smoothing round and round Vanner's pucker of muscle. He coaxes the tension out of Vanner, patient as he needs to be. When he thinks Vanner's ready, he pokes the pointed tip of his tongue inside.

  Vanner's hoarse yell is so, so damn sweet.

  He's got Vanner jerking out these desperate little grunts and looking like a debauched angel by the time he's got to stop. Has to. Otherwise, the sight of Vanner, his head burrowed between his clenching fists and the quavering in his contracting leg muscles, coupled with the sound of his strangled curses would be too much. Heath's trying his hardest not to give in to the urge to fist his own cock and ease the white-hot pressure.

  Won't do it. He's saving this.

  "God damn it, Heath," Vanner wheezes. "Sick bastard."

  Heath snickers. "You love this." He smacks Vanner's hip, kind of getting into this perfect opportunity to manhandle his twin some, and raises up to sit on his knees for the better angle.

  When he presses his forefinger to Vanner's hole this time, the knot twitches and lets him slide on in. Vanner goes still and cusses a blue streak, but Heath knows the difference between pain and startled shock.

  "Hush now, hush," Heath croons, soothing away the words Vanner hasn't yet been able to string together. "Know it feels strange."

  "Yeah." Vanner's voice is hoarse. He shifts his hips experimentally. "You get used to this, right?"

  "Me, I love it." Heath's finding it hard to take as much time as he wants. "Find that tube and give it here right now."

  "You in a hurry or something?" Vanner stretches forward to rummage under the motel bed. Lord have mercy, he looks hot that way, his ass clenching from the strain of this new position of his body. "This what you want?"

  Heath has to admire the way Vanner slaps the tube backward without a hint of hesitation. No man who's naked and reads the KY logo can fail to know what's in store.

  More than showing no fear, Vanner wiggles
back until his hands and knees are braced. "All right," he challenges. "Do me."

  "Lord, you're romantic."

  "What's romance got to do with anything?"

  Vanner's never going to let him live this down, but be damned if Heath won't say what he wants to say. He'll not let this go unremarked upon. "A lot. I want you to love this as much as I love you."

  Mercy God, even Vanner's back goes red, he's so embarrassed. Heath hoots with laughter and bends to kiss Vanner's ass cheek. "It's all right. You don't have to say it back. I know how you feel."

  Vanner mumbles something, turning darker still.

  Heath snorts, deciding to show some mercy, and starts to give directions. He coaxes Vanner into a new position, lying flat on his stomach with his face pillowed on his hands. "Spread your legs," he coaxes, helping Vanner move just right. "That's right. God, you're hot like this. Bend your knees apart. Yeah, you got it."

  Vanner snarls at Heath. He can't say he's too surprised that Vanner's not a talker when it comes down to the fucking.

  Heath doesn't mind, either. Makes it a lot more fun to tease him.

  "All right, now, I'm opening the tube." Heath's seen men near as tough as Vanner flinch like spooked deer when the KY clicks open. Lord bless him, Vanner doesn't move at all. If anything, his already-fast breathing quickens a tad.

  God, it's heady stuff to know Vanner wants it this much. Heath can barely hold it together as he anoints his fingers with the cold gel. "Chilly," he warns, teasing around Vanner's hole. "Tell me if it's too much."

  Two fingers in. A lot for a guy who'd just had the one fingertip before now. Vanner, he takes it like a champ. Not a pro, not by any means, but he doesn't wince or stifle any cries of pain. Just goes hard in the back and breathes carefully for a count of ten.

  "Okay?" Heath asks, rubbing Vanner's back. He starts working his fingers in and out, scissoring them open ever so gently. He doesn't think Vanner will spook, but better safe than sorry, right?

  "Weird," Vanner says after a pause. He's already opening up sweet as a dream. Might be taking some strong force of will. Vanner's good that way. "Really fuckin' weird."

  "Was for me, too. Tell me what you think of this." Heath crooks his fingers, searching.

  Vanner squeaks and damn near jumps off the bed, but in a good way. Heath hangs on to his twin, laughing fit to kill.

  "What the hell?" Vanner demands, rough with shocked lustiness.

  "This," Heath says, stroking that glorious little bundle of nerves, "is why men get off on ass fucking."

  "Damn." Vanner trembles. He arches his neck, shaking hair out of his face. Heath can see cords standing out tight. "More."

  "Greedy son of a bitch."

  Heath's more than happy to do as he's told, though. He takes his time, he keeps it together, and he's reduced Vanner to a twitching, groaning collection of shaking limbs by the time he's got three in there.

  Finally, he can't take anymore, he’s too close to popping. The sight of Vanner's asshole stretched tight and thin around his probing fingers is enough to give him jerk-off fantasies for the rest of his life. And it only gets better from here, doesn't it?

  "Okay." Heath's as gentle as he can be while he gets into position. He pushes a pillow under Vanner's groin, giving him something to rock against while he pushes up.

  Slicking his cock up good and wet, Heath aligns the head at the loosened muscle tempting him like a devil. He pushes just hard enough to give Vanner his final warning. "You ready for me?"

  Vanner snarls. "Swear to God! Fuck me already."

  "Damn right I will. Hang on."

  God almighty. Nothing in this world has ever been so scorching-hot or knotted-fist snug. Vanner's hole stretches around his cock as he sinks home, the skin going white from pressure. Vanner fists his hands tight in the cheap motel sheets, knuckles standing out. He shudders through the shoulders and grits out sharp, short yelps.

  Heath gets to where he can stand to stop, his balls flush with Vanner's ass. "You okay?"

  Vanner growls at him, which Heath figures is answer enough. Good damn, to see his twin this way... well, Heath can't stand against it. He's not that strong.

  "You holler at me if I hurt you," he warns, and he's off. Trying to take it slow, that purely doesn't work out. Vanner's too good, too warm and close, too much for Heath to keep his head with. Steady strokes transform fast into deep, hard thrusts.

  Vanner's fists flex and curl. His stifled cries change from slightly worrying to cat-house desperate. "Heath," he growls, over and over again. "God. Damn. Keep goin'."

  Though he can barely focus on anything else, Heath tries changing the angle to see if he can...

  "Fuck!"

  Oh, yeah, there it is. Heath lets go, then, pounding in as hard as he pleases. Vanner's gonna be sore as hell later. He doesn't think either of them care enough to worry right now.

  The things Vanner is shouting don't make a lick of sense. Heath gabbles words of his own back. Specifics don't matter. He catches Vanner's tone, and tries to give his twin the same.

  What he hears, as Vanner draws up in a huge bow-shape beneath him, bellowing and bucking, is trust and love. Heath's balls spasm and let loose with their heavy load at the sound of Vanner coming from getting fucked.

  He loses all his senses for a moment, flying away somewhere white and empty.

  When he comes back to the real world, Vanner's sprawled flat on the no-doubt-wet spot beneath him, shoulders shaking with laughter at Heath's expense.

  Too tired to bitch, Heath slaps him lightly on the back of the head and collapses. He breathes in the scent of sex and sweat and Vanner, and he thinks if it was like this for always, he'd live the rest of his life right here and be a happy man.

  Which is, of course, why it doesn't last more than a minute.

  "Heath? Heath, Vanner, are you in there?" The high-pitched woman's cry, mixed between panic and anger, echoes over a sudden and frantic pounding at their door. "Heath Gitane, you open the door this instant or I'm coming in through this window."

  "Lucy?" Heath mutters. "What the hell?"

  "Don't you dare," Vanner warns in a low, pissed-off growl. "She'll go away."

  "You don't know Lucy."

  "Fuck off!" Vanner roars, presumably at the red-headed lady rider.

  The glass breaks, knocking the shoddy cheap curtains open.

  "Shit!" Vanner bucks up underneath Heath, near about unseating him, and you just don't do that to a man's cock or your own ass.

  It's instinct to watch out for Vanner's safety that motivates Heath to push him back down. "God almighty! Give me a second before you try to tear it off!"

  Vanner's not having any of it, and frankly, Heath can't blame him. His own heart is hammering so hard in his throat he almost tastes the blood. "Get off," Vanner spits, humping and thrashing. "Get off, asshole!"

  "Vanner, you're gonna hurt yourself!" Heath draws out as carefully as he can without lingering. He winces at how sore and raw Vanner looks; damn it, he knew he was riding too hard. "Shit, Vanner."

  Vanner drags himself to his knees. He's moving clumsy and slow, which is only to be expected. "Get her out of here!"

  "Lucy, hold it right there," Heath gets it together enough to bark. "I'll come on out, just hold your horses, would you?"

  "I don't think you have time, and I know I don't," Lucy snipes, already starting to insinuate her way between the panes. "Something just happened that I don't like the looks of, and--"

  She's got one leg through the window before she looks up. Lucy's not stupid, but it wouldn't take a genius to put together two naked, sweating men, the smell of sex, and probably the swelling hickeys on Heath's chest.

  Her jaw drops and her cheeks go white as cream. "Oh."

  ***

  Heath's working hard at trying to explain almost before the startled gasp escapes Lucy. "Calm down, all right? Whatever you do, please, God, don't start a fuss."

  That seems to be the furthest thing from Lucy's mind. Her eyes ar
e as wide as saucers, just like in a fairy tale. She's got her hand pressed to her heart, fingertips digging into the fabric of her blouse.

  "Oh," she says a second time.

  Behind Heath, Vanner groans and buries his face in the rucked-up pillow.

  "Lucy, it's not what it looks like."

  To his shock, a hint of a grin quirks at the corner of Lucy's lips. "It isn't?"

  "Lord, Lucy, honest--"

  "'Cause to me, it looks like you just screwed your twin."