Manhandled (32 page)

Nick sits up and pouts. “But I was supposed to save you. I wanted you to see me in action.”

Devin’s hand slides around the back of Nick’s neck and he pulls him in for a kiss. “I don’t know about you, but I saw plenty
of action. I think my little plan was quite a success.”

I blink at Devin as his words sink in. “This was all
your
plan?”

Devin laughs. “You think Nicky could’ve come up with something like this all by himself?” He ruffles Nick’s hair, and Nick
shoves his hand away.

“I could too.”

Devin presses a kiss to Nick’s forehead. “Of course you could, baby.”

I sit up. “So what the fuck was the point of me dressing up like a psycho and trying to rape you?”

Devin lifts his hands. “How else were we gonna get a piece of your nice little ass?”

“Um… you could’ve just asked?”

“Oh, but this was
so
much more fun.” Nick giggles.

Devin’s eyes twinkle. They fucking twinkle. “Yeah, the look on your face when I handcuffed you was priceless.”

I climb off the couch, grab my mangled shirt, and wipe the cum off my stomach. Then I begin searching through my discarded
clothes, trying to hide my burning face. I find the key to the handcuffs and unlock them, tossing them to the ground. “Hey,
Nick?”

His arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me up against his warm, soft body. “Hmm?”

“I’ll expect you early tomorrow.”

He lets go of me. “For what?”

“We made a deal, remember? It’s gonna take you all day and probably half the night to get my house clean.”

Nick’s eyes widen. “But…I…It was just to get you to agree to the plan!”

I grin and pat his ass. “See you around eight then?”

“But… Devin!” he whines. “Help!”

Devin laughs from the sofa. “Don’t worry, Nick.”

Nick tosses me a cheeky grin and Devin continues.

“I’ll be sure to wake you up early.”

T. Hitman

T
he warm, wet tickle of a tongue against the sensitive flesh of his asshole woke Adam Valico from sleep. Drew was back from
his morning jog.

He’d had a sense of the other man’s presence in the room: the sound of footsteps, a burp, the rough fumble of a hand spreading
his butt cheeks open enough to bare the prize. The scrape of an unshaved chin along the inside of his crack and several more
hungry laps along his most private spot snapped Adam fully awake. It also toughened the half-hard cock he’d been pumping into
the mattress up to all of its hooded seven inches.

“You awake?” growled a deep voice that was muffled by his ass.

Adam answered, “I am now.” He moaned out a yawn and spread his legs to allow the invader easier access.

A probing finger joined Drew’s tongue. Adam’s guts caught fire.
“Sweet,”
he sighed between gasps for breath. He pounded his uncut cock into the mattress and knew from the slippery feel of the sheets
beneath him that Drew’s attention was already making him leak.

“Speaking of which, I bumped into that new guy this morning,” Drew said.

Adam raised his head off the pillow and whipped around. Drew’s finger slipped free of his hole with a muted popping sound.
“Huh?”

“That young stud who moved in a few houses down,” Drew answered. Adam focused his gaze on the other man’s handsome, unshaved
face. Drew’s short, dark brown hair and his old gray T-shirt were wet from his morning jog. His pale blue eyes and glistening
mouth had a predatory quality in the early light. Drew shuffled off the bed and stood to remove his clothes. As he stood,
the tent in Drew’s jogging shorts showed his stiffness.

“I invited him to our football game,” Drew said. He squeezed his chubby before kicking off his sneakers. Drew’s T-shirt and
track pants followed, leaving him only in sweat socks and compression shorts.

Adam pushed a pillow behind his head and watched his buddy strip. “You think the other dudes will mind?”

“Shit,” huffed Drew, “every one of them’s been stroking their dicks over that walking wet dream since he moved in. I met up
with him jogging through the Common. Said he’d love to play some touch football with the guys, make some friends in the neighborhood.”
He peeled down his socks and freed his decent-sized cock and beefy sac of nuts from their prison before crawling back into
bed. The pungent, raw smell of his fresh sweat reignited Adam’s hunger. “His name’s Brady. Brady Thompson. Said he’ll be here
Sunday morning.”

“Hot fuck,” Adam sighed. He reached between Drew’s solid, hairy legs and fondled his cock. The other man’s size-13 feet rubbed
against Adam’s size 12s. Their legs rubbed together as Adam moved on top of Drew’s toned body. Their lips met briefly. Adam
tasted himself on his buddy’s tongue.

“Seems like a cool dude,” Drew said as he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes locking on some peripheral target in the room.
“He’s gotta be six-four or five. I’m six-three and the fucker’s a hair taller than me. And the hot little fuck’s only twenty-four.”

Adam took a whiff off the moist, clean bush of Drew’s nearest pit. “Just a pup,” he said. “Why does he want to hang out and
play football with a bunch of old bucks?”

“Fuck that,” Drew chuckled. “I’m thirty, you’re twenty-eight. He ain’t that much younger than us!”

“Yeah, but dude—did you tell him about us and the rest of the guys?” Adam countered.

Drew’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck no. Not yet. I don’t know about him. Can’t tell yet if he’s cool enough to let him know that all
of our neighborhood buddies like sucking dick. But he sure as fuck is hot, and we could use another guy to play.”

Adam sighed his agreement while running a hand over Drew’s hairy, muscled chest. He looked into his housemate’s eyes to find
them distant and trained elsewhere.

“Suck my dick,” Drew eventually said.

He cupped the back of Adam’s jet black buzz cut and forced him down toward his straining seven-incher. Adam slid down the
other man’s flat, furry belly toward the musty-smelling patch of hair that lined Drew’s abdomen. Drew’s nuts were wet with
a sheen of sweaty slime—too hot to resist getting a taste of. Adam lapped at the loose, hairy skin before giving each stone
a gentle suck. From there, it was up to former New Jersey quarterback Drew Harridge’s rock-solid cock.

The familiar, salty-sweet taste of Drew’s precum hit Adam’s tongue instantly. He swirled the goo along the underside of his
buddy’s dickhead and found the sensitive spot. Drew tensed beneath him.

“Keep sucking,” the other man huffed, begged.

Adam glanced up to see his housemate smiling widely, his eyes half-shut. Adam knew the score: in Drew’s mind, it was the new
guy going down on him, the twenty-four-year-old hot fuck who’d moved in two doors away. He also knew by the amount of fluid
leaking out of Drew’s pee-hole and the steely state of his tool that he was pretty close to blowing his load.

At the last minute, Adam spit out Drew’s cock. “Roll over,” he ordered.

Drew’s half-closed eyes shot open. “Huh?”

Adam licked his lips and shot Drew a mean look. “On your stomach—
now.
”

Slowly, reluctantly, Drew obeyed the order and turned over, revealing his hard, square beaut of an ass. Adam placed a hand
on each of the muscled cheeks and stroked them, spreading the halves apart to bare Drew’s tight, furry pucker. Before Drew
could argue, Adam slid his tongue into the crack. The steamy knot was moist from Drew’s jog. Adam moaned as he swabbed at
Drew’s hairy pucker. The sweaty taste drove his cock back up to its full girth. He lapped and sucked, loosening Drew for what
he planned next. Once he’d gotten him plenty wet, Adam scurried into position on top of Drew.

“Don’t get too comfortable up there,” Drew warned lightly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Adam said. He closed his eyes and pushed forward with his cock. The tight, moist knot of Drew’s asshole
denied him at first, but eventually, his fleshy cock knob found entrance. Adam eased in. The incredible tightness sucked on
his shaft like a man’s skilled mouth.

Adam fucked Drew in this position, with his eyes clamped shut. In his fantasy, it wasn’t Drew beneath him, but Brady Thompson.
Two could play at this game.

Drew set the cooler on the back porch and loaded it up with ice and beer, then went back inside. Adam stayed on the porch,
absently lacing up his sneakers, adjusting the length of his OTC whites, and fumbling with his package while waiting for the
guys to arrive. To his surprise, the first to show was Brady, the new guy.

Adam turned to the sound of the back gate swinging open, and there the handsome fucking jock stood, slightly taller than Drew,
with a neat crop of dark blond hair and a goofy smile that showed off the dimple in his chin. Their new neighbor had pale
blue eyes, a blue that was nearly gray. Adam quickly sized him up while extending a hand.

“Hey,” he growled.

Brady shook back. “ ’Sup, dude?”

“Nada—yet,” said Adam.

Brady was wearing a white T-shirt, a pair of loose-fitting navy-colored cotton shorts, and sneakers with no socks. His legs
were muscled and not overly hairy, just enough to match his arms. Adam squeezed down on the other man’s rough fingers. Brady
returned the gesture with a vicelike pump. Along with their hands, their eyes soon met. Adam realized how handsome the newcomer
was—and how resentful he was of his presence because of that. This was Adam’s game, Adam’s home, Adam’s territory, and somehow,
Brady threatened all of it.

Brady’s eyes deflected to the tall fence of box elders and arborvitae that divided the spacious backyard on two sides, running
to the garage on the third. “Decent setup you got, dude. Nice and private. My place is wide open.”

“That sucks,” Adam said coldly. He folded his arms and sucked in a breath of the warm September air.

Drew’s appearance at the sliding glass door saved Adam from having to make further small talk.

“Hey, dude,” Drew exclaimed, his face lighting up at seeing Brady. The two men high-fived, and as much as it secretly pissed
Adam off, it also excited him in ways he couldn’t deny. The thought of seeing Brady and Drew together sent an image flashing
through Adam’s mind. Their new neighbor exuded raw sexuality, a mix of his boyish good looks, his soft-spoken baritone, and
that goofy, dimpled smile. Adam felt his cock begin to stir and turned away.

Their forty-year-old buddy Russ opened the gate. Jackson, an ex-Marine, and Alex followed. After introducing them all to Brady,
Drew brought out the football.

“A game of shirts versus skins,” he said. Then he hooted, “You losers ready to get thrashed?”

Brady planted his feet and reached down, gripping the tails of his T-shirt.

Time seemed to slip out of focus for Adam as he lifted the shirt over his head, slowly baring his flat, tanned six-pack and
the treasure trail of hair that split it down the middle. Trying not to appear obvious, Adam couldn’t help but stare. He knew
the others were looking, too.

Brady’s belly button appeared, and then the sculpture of his chest, the tiny copper points of his nipples, and the crossbar
of thin fur that divided his pecs. Brady stood dressed from the waist up in nothing but a gold chain and a grin. Adam blinked
when Drew clapped a hand against Brady’s bare shoulder. Time came rushing sharply back into focus.

Drew yanked his T-shirt over his head. His chest matched Brady’s—muscled, with a dusting of hair. Not to be outdone, Adam
followed suit. His chest was naturally smooth except for the bristle of black hairs that cut in a line down his stomach.

“Why do you knobs get the new guy?” groused Russ.

Adam snapped his T-shirt like a towel at the other man. “Lose that beer gut and you can play with the skins,” he joked.

Russ flipped his middle finger. Alex, their handsome Latino friend, said, “What a bunch of studs.”

Drew clapped his hands together and both sides assumed position at the line of scrimmage. Adam huddled down beside Brady and
tipped his gaze toward the younger man to find that Brady’s blue-gray eyes were already on him. This close, he could smell
the clean, masculine scent of deodorant and soap on Brady’s naked skin.