Friday Fireworks: Cussing, A Whole Lot of Teasing...and more. NSFW

 

“While I appreciate the effort, I’m afraid you’re way too late keeping the cuss words out of the conversation, he’s already picked up most of them from me. Said his first one when he was three. ‘Son of bitch.’ I swear, I nearly drove the car into a fire hydrant when I heard it, and the subsequent ‘bitch, bitch, bitch,’ he laughingly chanted in a little sing-song voice that was so damned cute it had me laughing along. Or at least, it did until I remembered that I was supposed to be the adult and gently corrected him, which lasted about a long as it took him to overhear me cuss out the next person who cut me off.”

“So, twenty minutes?” Jude quipped.

“Pretty much.”

Chuckling Justice shook his head as he cut a large wedge of garlic bread and added it to his plate. “I’m responsible for more than a few of Jude’s bad words too.”

“I’ll bet. Exactly how long did it take him to discover exactly what ‘fudgin’’ was supposed to stand for?”

“Not long,” Jude remarked. “But in his defense, he gave some real impressive effort into coming up with substitutes. ‘Son of a beeswax’ was one I’ll never forget.”

That got everyone cracking up, even Justice, who couldn’t even remember how the hell he’d come up with that one.

“I learned my first one from my Gram,” Nash remarked from across the room. “She called someone a ‘frightfully blithering bastard’ on the phone and I about tripped over myself trying to repeat it until I could just about manage the words.”

“Just about?” Justice asked as he poured himself a glass of peach sweet tea.

“Yeah, for the life of me, I couldn’t manage blitherin’ until I was almost ten.”

“From the sound of it, you’re still missing at least one letter,” Justice remarked as he carried his meal across the room to sit it down on the coffee table where Nash and Anson were hard at work on the model engine.

Nash waved a hand through the air between them. “A completely unnecessary letter if you ask me.”

“I’m pretty sure English teachers everywhere wouldn’t agree.”

“Never was my best subject.”

“Mine either,” Justice remarked before digging in. Even as he ate, he tried to keep one eye on Nash and that dangling lock of hair that never quite stayed back, even when he tried using an elastic. Hell, it was quickly becoming one of his favorite things; sliding up beside Nash, bushing that soft strand back before moving in for a kiss that rocked both their worlds. Nash locked eyes with him at almost the exact moment the thought entered his mind and he felt his face slowly heating up as he imagined what Nash glimpsed there. As if to throw a little gasoline on the fire, Nash made it a point to poke just the tip of his tongue out to lick his lower lip, a move that reminded Justice of exactly what he could do with that wicked little appendage when he put his mind to it. Turning away, Justice hoped draining half his glass would help to cool him off, otherwise, he was going to have to think up an excuse to get a few minutes alone with Nash outside.

“So, what do you think?” Nash asked. Justice nearly choked himself holding back the first words that popped into his head, which were, “That I need you naked and moaning on that coffee table the first chance I get.”

Sputtering, Justice struggled to find an answer suitable for polite company, before something slightly out of place caught his eye. “Looking good, but I think you two got that piece flipped backwards.”

Nash’s blonde hair gleamed a little brighter pressed up against Anson’s dark brunette strands as they studied what he meant. With Nash holding pieces steady, Anson got it unscrewed and flipped around correctly, before firmly screwing everything back in place. He watched them struggle with the next few pieces while he chowed down, grateful that the food gave him something to do with his mouth so he wouldn’t be tempted to take over. It would have been way too easy to offer insight and corrections, which, in the end, wouldn’t have helped them to learn one bit. It was a concept he’d struggled to grasp when Jude was younger, and while the thought of guiding Nash’s hands did have a certain appeal, depending on where he determined to guide those hands to, it would have to wait until Anson and his mom departed. Judging from the kid’s yawns, it shouldn’t be too long now, though, with Jude and Carla steadily engaged in a discussion about the do’s and don’ts of making watermelon sherbet, he couldn’t be certain. Meal finished, Justice watched a little longer, noted the way Nash sucked on his bottom lip when he was thinking about something while Anson would reach for pieces, fingers hovering, touch them, draw back, hover more, then reach for something else, second guessing himself right out of the correct decision more often than not.

He wondered if Anson even realized what he was doing or if it was engraved in him by this point. Making a mental note to keep a watch on it, Justice headed to the kitchen to get started on the dishes, barely suppressing a grin when Jude and Carla came in a few minutes later, bringing their plates. Carla thanked them for supper and declared it time to go, prompting Anson to finish up on the piece he’d been placing and tuck the model engine away on a shelf until the next time he had the opportunity to work on it. From there it was elementary, he, Nash, and Jude played a couple hands of cards, then Jude went up to get a shower, telling them both goodnight.

Nash shook out the blankets, getting ready to make up the couch into his bed when Justice caught him around the waist.

“Play a few more hands with me,” he growled, the clean scent of Nash’s body wash making him half-hard as he nuzzled the other man’s neck, nipping enough to draw a shiver and low gasp from Nash.

“I want you, soon as he goes to bed, I wanna take you out to the shop, lay you out on a table, and have my way with you.”

“The shop, huh? Should I be worried about all the chains and cables out there?”

Justice nearly choked. Sputtering, he tried to decide if he wanted Nash worried or eager, or a bit of both. Nash’s low laugh carried a hint of mockery in it, as did his voice when he spoke.

“Relax Justice, I wouldn’t ask you to tie me up or chain me down, let alone do something truly kinky.”

Growling, Justice crowded into his space until Nash was leaning back over the arm of the couch. “And what if I said I wanted to tie you down, drag ice cubes and my fingernails over your body until you were so sensitive you can’t decide if you want me to fuck you or you want me to stop?”

Nash’s eyes widened, a breathless little pant escaping him as his cock grew hard against the thigh Justice had wedged between his legs. With his pupils blown wide, Nash looked like he was eager and ready to be debauched, so Justice moved his leg, slowly, deliberately, drawing it against Nash’s growing erection, knowing that the soft insides of his fleece sweatpants only added to the appeal.

“What if I said I wanted to turn you over and spank that ass until there were imprints of my hand all over it, then fuck you until we both came so hard we saw the universe melt?”

The whine was high and desperate, those words wrenched from Nash went straight to his cock.

“Please,” Nash moaned

“Oh yeah, baby, I won’t make you beg. I’ll give you everything we both want as soon as Jude goes to bed,” Justice assured him before brushing a kiss across Nash’s lips.

Apparently it wasn’t enough because Nash latched onto him and pulled Justice down onto the couch on top of him, his kisses wild, needy, and desperate. All grabby hands and tiny groans. Nash ratcheted things up to a whole other level, sweeping Justice along with him until the rattling of the upstairs pipes reminded him they weren’t alone yet.

“We gotta wait,” he insisted, panting as he managed to contain Nash’s wandering hands and slow things down to the occasional shift of their lower bodies against one another. Nash was panting too, and Justice could feel the jackhammer pace of his heart.

“Yeah … yeah … okay,” he replied, but Justice didn’t miss the reluctance in his voice as he held still and waited for Justice to get off of him. Instead of moving, however, Justice slid his fingers up to the chain around Nash’s neck and gave it a gentle tub.

“Did someone else who liked to spank you put this here?” Justice asked, wanting to know the answer, and yet not certain he did, because if it meant what he thought it did, then did the fact that Nash still wore it mean that chapter of his life wasn’t through?

Those golden eyes, that had been so focused on him, shifted, so his gaze was somewhere off to the left, at the wall, or the television, Justice couldn’t be sure.

“Yeah,” Nash murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Did you like it?”

“Oh yeah.”

Just two words but delivered with the same breathiness Justice had heard from him when he’d been balls deep inside of Nash and clutching him close.

“Are you still … his?”

Nash’s whole body stilled, Justice could feel his heartbeat pick up even as he seemed to be holding his breath. Cupping Nash’s face in his hands, he tried to draw the other man’s gaze back towards him, but Nash wouldn’t be budged.

“It’s a long story.”

“Okay.”

“Complicated.”

“Kinda figured that too, but I’d still like to hear it.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Just, not tonight, okay?” Nash interrupted firmly, and this time, he did meet Justice’s gaze, a pleading look having replaced the one glazed over with pleasure.

“Yeah … okay. Not tonight, but soon, yeah?”

Nash nodded, shoving at him a little. Justice got the hint and moved. “Soon,” Nash commented as he sat up. “It’s just hard to talk about.”

“Okay,” Justice remarked, kissing him gently before he stood and moved over to the recliner, putting the whole coffee table between them. He wanted to press, hell, it wasn’t in his nature to let shit go, but every tense line in Nash’s body screamed it was a bad idea, and for once, he decided to listen to the vibes someone else was putting off, rather than forging ahead. Besides, he didn’t want Nash tense tonight, but relaxed and very, very willing. “Jude’ll be out cold in under an hour and then they’ll be no one to care what we do if you do want to slip outside with me.”

 Justice began to shuffle the cards, his eyes never leaving Nash who squirmed and looked away, refusing to meet his gaze again. “Yeah, couldn’t think of a better way to end the night.”

Somehow, Justice didn’t quite believe him, but as the hands wore on, and he didn’t bring up the subject of the collar again, Nash relaxed, let his tongue poke from between his lips, stripped off his shirt, tossed it to the side, and spent almost as much time preening as he did thoroughly kicking Justice’s ass at Phase-10. Seven phases in, well, technically, it was only seven for Justice, Nash was on the tenth phase already, it started to dawn on Justice how long an hour was when he had a case of blue balls from hell and a tempting as fuck creative genius taunting the hell outta him. 

The last place Nash wanted to break down was south Mississippi. With his extreme heat sensitivity and one scorching Mississippi summer, he had every intention of passing through the state as quickly as possible. Too bad his bike had other ideas, leaving him stranded on the side of the road in a rather desperate predicament until a tow truck driver happened by and offered him a hand.

Jude knew his brother would be pissed at him for being late, but there was no way he could pass by the sun-sick rider and not offer a helping hand. When it turned out fixing the bike wasn’t going to be cheap or quick, he and his reluctant brother, Justice found themselves with a houseguest full of sarcastic wit and a bunch of surprises.

The last thing Justice thought they needed was to be lending a helping hand to a stranger when it seemed like their entire world was crashing down, thanks to their uncle Les and a lien Justice hadn’t found out about until it was almost too late. But he can’t deny that Nash is pleasant to look at, and when the sparks start to fly between them, it’s too stunning to turn down. Besides, soon as the bike is fixed, Nash will be riding out of his life forever, so what harm would giving in be?

But sweltering beneath the heat of that Mississippi summer sun is a secret just itching to get out, and when it does, it just might change all their lives forever.

Dust Trail Blues Can be found as part of a special May ebook Deal Here!