The Brotherhood 11: Nothing Like Experience Page 6

  The Dalmatian lifted his head and yipped, as if he were just as anxious to get inside. Allen chuckled and patted the dog’s elegantly shaped head. “Yeah, you know you’re home, don’t you?”

  “Mmm.” Chance licked his lips. “Follow me. Watch your step, though; it’s a little tricky.”

  Allen resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Chance moved lightly ahead and left him walking alone, unable to see more than a few steps ahead in the foggy night. Allen was starting to dread -- and anticipate -- the word “tricky” when it came from the other man. All the same he obeyed, watching the path in front of him instead of trying to make out the details of the small house he hoped wasn’t far away. What was this, a maze? If so, it wasn’t much of one. Didn’t look that complicated to him. Sort of rough, sure, but each step was marked with pebbled stepping stones set in the grass.

  Spot ran around his legs, yapping, until Chance whistled the dog back to his own side. Allen kind of wished he could get back up beside Chance himself and went so far as to suggest it out loud.

  “Sorry,” Chance said somewhere ahead of him, too far ahead for Allen to see him, sounding genuinely apologetic. “You sort of have to figure this out for yourself, but it’ll be easy if you just follow me. If you can.” He gave a little gasp. “If anyone asks, I didn’t tell you that, okay? I could get in trouble for bringing an outsider here.”

  Allen’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to puzzle that one out. In the end he shrugged. “Will do.” Then he paid closer attention to his feet. The path, which had started out as the plain old pebbled stepping stones was changing. The stones stopped abruptly, and a rougher path of dirt and pine needles began. It looked to be well-traveled, though, and wasn’t hard to follow. That was, until he came to a fork in the road.

  “Uh, Chance? I think we may have a problem here.”

  “Aww.” Allen heard Chance’s voice, but couldn’t figure out which direction it was coming from, right or left. When he looked up, the fog was too thick to discern any shapes. “I wish I could tell you.”

  Allen scowled. “Is this some kind of a game?”

  “It’s not. Really not. But I’ve got to abide by the... you just have to find your own way. I can’t help.” Chance sounded truly regretful. “I want you with me. Please find the right way.”

  Oh, yeah. This’ll be easy. What the hell is going on here? Maybe I should head back to my car -- if I can find my way there, that is. Is being with Chance worth all this cloak-and-dagger stuff? Very weird, all of it. Damn me for not being able to turn this guy down. Oh, well. In for that penny... Allen let out a deep breath, pondering which way to choose.

  An idea occurred to him.

  “Spot! C’mon, boy! Got a treat for you!”

  He heard a delighted yip, definitely from his left, and laughed as a Dalmatian-shaped blur came zooming through the fog. “Left. I should have known.” Allen squatted down to pat the excited dog, rubbing his ears and running his hand down Spot’s back until the animal’s entire hindquarters were wagging. A treat from Allen’s pocket proved to be quite possibly the best thing Spot had ever eaten. “Good boy,” Allen crooned. “Okay, now go to Chance. Go to Chance!”

  Spot yipped again and scooted on ahead, this time walking at a sedate pace with a trot back every now and then to make sure the man with the T-R-E-A-T-S was following. He heard Chance’s delighted laughter and mentally patted himself on the back. Way to go with the animal skills, he exulted. This’ll make great material for a column. Well, if Chance agrees, that is. He’s acting bizarre. More so than usual. What’s the big mystery about this place, anyway?

  Allen resigned himself to the fact that he’d probably never know, given Chance’s general peculiarity. Instead of fretting, he kept following the dog, even when they entered a row of hedges. He did roll his eyes. “Left,” he mumbled, struggling to hold Spot in sight as the animal ran back and forth between Allen and Chance. “Just keep on with those good old lefts, and you’ll be there in three ticks.”

  Spot barked. “I know you don’t have ticks, boy,” Allen said kindly. “Go ahead, now.” He hoped like hell that Chance kept some more doggie snacks up at his house. Spot definitely deserved a reward for playing the role of St. Bernard but minus the brandy cask.

  “Is it much farther?” Allen shouted, still unable to see Chance or anything of the place where they were heading. He took another left.

  “Nope,” Chance said, sounding excited. “One more turn, that’s all. But, uh, be careful.”

  Allen paused to consider that, then deliberately went right at the next fork. His shirt sleeves caught at the hedge, but that didn’t matter because he was suddenly bumping right into Chance, who was solid and warm and utterly delightful to have in his arms once more. Able to see the man again, Allen marveled once more at how absolutely gorgeous Chance was. This was still probably a very bad idea, but damned if it didn’t feel good.

  Kind of like the right thing to do.

  Chance bounced up and down on the balls of his feet before leaning in for a kiss. Allen breathed in through his nose, scenting the woodsy smell of Chance’s hair. When they broke off to get a touch more air, Chance sounded more breathless than he had a right to be -- unless, that was, Allen hadn’t lost his good old touch. “The fog’s still thick, but if you look right across the clearing, you should see my house.”

  Allen lifted his head to take a gander. He blinked at the utterly unremarkable small cabin, which was built low to the ground, a neat square of logs fitted closely together, and a light shining out of one window like a guiding star. It looked nice, sure, like... a home. Simple and welcoming, but nothing you needed to hide behind a fucking labyrinth.

  Chance twined their hands together and bumped hips with Allen. “Race you to the door? First one there gets to feed Spot his treat.”

  Allen couldn’t help laughing. He reached up to tweak Chance’s nose. “Incorrigible.”

  Chance stuck out his tongue. “Am not.” He bumped Allen again. “Come on! We’re scot-free now.” With that, he took off running. Allen hesitated for a moment, then grinned and started to sprint, hoping he could quickly close the distance between them. Up ahead, he saw Chance slow down, the wily little bugger, and took shameless advantage by zipping past the younger man.

  So it was with Allen’s own back pressed to a solid wood door that he welcomed Chance to the man’s house, Spot barking around their calves. Paws scratched at the entrance while Allen got himself a nice armful of wiggling, excited young man. They kissed long and slow, sweet and tender, lingering on one another’s lips.

  A sense of excitement rose within Allen. To hell with common sense. This is just plain fun. He felt giddy and free at the declaration of independence, and to celebrate, he walked his lover backward, grabbed Chance by the waist, and swung him around. Chance’s delighted giggles filled the air. He even squealed.

  When Allen set him back down on his feet, Chance surged in for still another kiss. “You’ll like it in here,” he whispered, running his fingers down Allen’s collar onto his skin, giving the chicken tie a tug. “Come inside. This is my den.”

  Allen mimicked Chance’s earlier growl. It was a little clumsy on the execution, but Chance’s eyes widened and he seemed to love it. “All the better to ravish you in, my dear.” Allen waggled his eyebrows.

  Chance laughed. Allen thought he’d never seen anything better than the young man’s broad grin. “You’re on,” he said, before nuzzling into Allen’s neck.

  Allen closed his eyes in contentment. Oh, yeah. Big trouble. But I love every second of this. I wouldn’t go back now if I could. Vive le vet, and Geronimo!

  He launched himself through the open door.

  Chapter Five

  When he walked into a new place, Allen usually liked to stop for a minute and look around. Gather a sense of where he was. Get his bearings. Figure out if there were large, bulky, and uncomfortable pieces of furniture to slam into.

  Until then, though, he hadn’t had a chance
, no pun intended. And, truth be told, beyond the second it took to clean his glasses of the fog that had clouded his vision when he walked into the warm room, Allen didn’t have an opportunity to pause, much less to glance about himself before Chance was in his arms again, almost whining in his eagerness to get at Allen with more of those hot, biting kisses.

  Allen surrendered to the assault with a laugh, having pretty much expected Chance to act that way. He stumbled backward a bit and, sure enough, ran into what felt vaguely like a couch arm. Wasn’t too hard to lean against for support, though, so he relaxed his muscles and found his balance, all while kissing back as much as he could.

  Damn, but Chance moved fast, in every sense of the word. He was never still for a moment -- licking here, nipping there, sucking in one spot, flicking in another. It felt like every square inch of Allen’s face got kissed, even down to Chance’s tongue dancing in his ear.

  When that happened, Allen chortled again and used both hands to push Chance away. His eyes, which had closed automatically when Chance had pounced on him, reopened. He got a good look at the faultless features along with those hazy blue orbs directed at him, blond hair tangled over them. Chance’s lips were still slightly swollen from his earlier cock-sucking and his current activities. He looked dazed but very, very happy.

  “Slow down,” Allen said, although his own anatomy was taking a definite interest and, in the way of genitalia everywhere, was demanding immediate attention. He lifted a hand to stroke Chance’s face, loving the soft feel of the man’s skin over the sharply cut bones beneath. “We have all night if you want. I don’t think I could drive out of here without help until that fog lifts anyway. Much less find my way out of your maze unless I borrow Spot again.” He frowned. “Where is Spot?”

  A cold, wet nose thrust itself up by Allen’s crotch. He let out a yelp as Spot barked, trying to push between Allen and Chance for the best possible petting opportunity. “Now how’d I know you would do that?” Allen rubbed the top of Spot’s head. “A fine dog like you wants to share the love. But, Chance, maybe...”

  “I’m on it.” Considering what they had been doing, Chance favored Allen with a surprisingly shy smile before backing off and whistling for his pet. “Come here, pal. Here! That’s good. Lie down on your bed. Stay, Spot, stay. Okay? Good boy. Good boy.”

  Allen took a deep breath while Chance settled down the curious Dalmatian onto a fluffy pillow that resembled the big poufy dog beds he’d seen in pet stores -- luxurious enough for humans to lust after them -- a big circle of well-stuffed black fabric with fake sheepskin on the flip side.

  Looked nice... if it weren’t dusted with white hairs on one side and currently occupied, it would have been a great place to drag Chance to and have his wicked, wicked way with the man.

  Whoo, doggie. Allen grinned at his mental choice of words. He rolled his shoulders, stretched, and felt something pop deep inside, a bit of tension releasing. Ohh, that feels good. Yes, baby, yes. Gotta love it. Didn’t realize I was wound up. Huh.

  Then again, could he wonder why? Not a bit of anxiety in him when it came to pleasuring a young stud like Chance, was there? What did he have to worry about? Except just about everything.

  Allen undid his tie with a single hand. Chance was a majorly hot potato, and Allen wasn’t sure he’d be up to juggling. After all, a practically forty-year-old starting to gray at the temples matched up against prime young male couldn’t help but compare and contrast to find himself... lacking.

  Well, sort of lacking.

  Allen glanced down at his groin, shaking his head at the swollen erection tenting his pants. “Where have you been hiding yourself?” he asked aloud. “You won’t come when I call you on those long and lonely nights, but you get all perked up now?”

  “Allen?” Chance was staring at him curiously. “Who are you talking to? Me?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Allen said frankly. He slid the tie off from around his neck and let the chicken-dancing silk slither to what appeared to be a very nice natural-grain wood floor. The floor looked polished and well kept, although here and there he saw the marks of Spot’s toenails.

  Glancing around himself, Allen finally took in the details. Battered old furniture, dusted with dog hairs -- although it was obvious from a few lint brushes placed on end tables that Chance tried to keep the place comfortable for his pet but still tidy. A couch, two chairs, all in various stages of raggedy with a few holes taped over. A bed, neatly made up with what looked like an old mountain crazy quilt and plumped pillows. There was a small kitchen to one side, although it didn’t have more than a few cabinets, and a microwave on a stand next to a tiny dorm refrigerator.

  Other than the kitchen, the place appeared to be a single room except for a couple of doors that could be a closet and a bathroom. Since one of them had raw boards nailed across it in an X and he saw clothes neatly hanging on nails in the wall, Allen suspected the other one to be the bathroom.

  He hoped.

  There was definitely something not to like about the blocked-off door, though. Allen scowled at the crossed boards. Out of the closet, huh? That’s... odd. Did Chance do this himself?

  Only one way to find out. “What’s with that?” Allen asked, pointing just in case Chance were confused. “And, yes, I’m talking to you now.”

  Chance giggled -- at least until he followed the direction of Allen’s finger. Then, his expression clouded. “Oh. I forgot.” A faint pink colored his cheeks. “I didn’t do it. It was... well, that doesn’t matter.”

  Allen didn’t like that answer. “You didn’t do it, huh?” He tapped one foot on the floor with a rat-a-tat sound. “Looks like whoever did was sending you a message.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” Chance shrugged, but his finger came up to tangle in his hair. “I think they meant it as kind of a joke.”

  “They?” Allen asked with remarkable calm. Thoughts of ass-kickings filled his mind again. “Who’s they?”

  The blush deepened. “I really shouldn’t say.”

  “Actually, you should.”

  “Promise you won’t tell? I could get in trouble.”

  Allen folded his hands over his stomach, trying to be patient. “Swear.”

  “My brothers,” Chance admitted. “They did it when they found out -- when I told them that I like men. And they’d get mad if I took it down. But it’s not a problem. I have plenty of places to hang my clothes, and it’s not that ugly.” He paused. “You’re not mad, are you?” That finger twined a little more rapidly. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

  “You should.” Allen’s voice was quiet and gentle. “I think it might be up to me to teach you why, though.” He held out his arms. “Come here, Chance.”

  Chance gave Spot one last pat. The Dalmatian seemed like he was ready for sleep. He gave a gusty woof as he settled down, then a few grumbles and gruffs. Chance smiled at his dog, making such a gorgeous picture that it almost took Allen’s breath away.

  Then Chance crossed the room, snuggled up to Allen and the breath was pretty much a goner. The earlier rush had disappeared, leaving Allen, and apparently Chance, with nothing more than a desire to just hold each other for a moment. Allen still had to continually wrap his mind around the fact that he was there in Chance’s house, that the other man actually did seem to want him. I could get used to this.

  “I think you need new brothers,” Allen said after a minute. He chuckled softly, thoughts of the Brotherhood crossing his mind. “Sometimes I think I do, too.” He pressed his hand to the back of Chance’s head, petting him softly, fingers slipping through and tangling in that marvelous golden hair.

  Chance made an apologetic noise. “You can’t help who you’re related to,” he whispered. “I kind of wish I could, though.”

  “You have no idea how much I wish the same.” And it was true, Allen did. He’d love to get all those bastards, however many of them there might be, all lined up in a neat row with their hindquarters raised and ready for
a good solid boot. Anyone who made this rare creature feel low enough to just accept a crude mockery of what he was needed to have some common decency kicked into them.

  “Honest, Allen, it’s fine.” Chance was trembling. “Don’t... don’t make a fuss. What they do doesn’t matter.” He pulled back a little to look at Allen, direct at first and then skittering away to stare at Allen’s mouth. “Just kiss me.”

  “Since you asked me so nicely.” Allen leaned in to place his lips over Chance’s. He felt that electrical connection again as their mouths touched. Chance must have, too, as he gave a quiet moan and buckled against Allen, surrendering completely and totally.

  Allen fought not to take control, wanting Chance to be a full participant. Damned if Chance didn’t just go where the wind blew, though, happily letting himself be tasted. “There’s that man who smooched me silly when we walked in here. The guy who sucked me off without a by-your-leave.” Allen teased, dropping both of his hands to Chance’s hips. “I kind of enjoyed all that, you know.” He pulled Chance flush against him from the waist down, pressing his own hardness against a matching bulge. “You took me by storm and made me not mind a bit.” Allen thrust carefully forward, loving the way Chance gasped and pushed back automatically. “I want to please you. What would it take to make you happy?” Allen found himself surprised at how much he meant the question.

  “Easy answer,” Chance replied instantly. “You. In charge.”

  “You want me to -- take control?” Allen guessed.

  Chance’s tremors started up again, but Allen could sense that they stemmed from a different source this time. Chance’s cock jerked against Allen’s even as Chance nodded with a definite eagerness but said nothing. Allen had a feeling that if he were to get a good look, Chance’s face would be aglow with anticipation. He took a moment to consider the notion.