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Authors: Katie Allen

BOOK: Hide Out
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With a laugh, Wash held up his hammer, pretending as if he were about to bash in Pete’s head.

83

Katie Allen

“Wait!” Trevor dove between them. “Don’t brain him ’til after dinner—he actually knows how to cook!”

“Really?” Wash asked, lowering his hammer. “Praise the food gods—I’m starving.”

Shaking his head, Pete demurred. “I’m not that good. Trevor just thinks I’m great because he can’t cook a Pop-Tart.”

Trevor jabbed his elbow into Pete’s ribs. “Last time I save you from Wash’s hammering arm.”

If they’d been alone, Pete would’ve hooked an arm around Trevor’s neck and pulled the other man against him for a hard kiss, but they weren’t alone. That was the bad part of having Rhodes and Wash around.

“This town have any restaurants?” Rhodes asked, appearing in the bedroom doorway.

“Yeah but we don’t need one,” Trevor told him. “Pete’s cooking.”

“Chicken?” Pete suggested. “I could do stir-fry.”

“Perfect.” Trevor leaned toward him and, for a second, Pete thought he was going to kiss him. Pete shot a wary glance at the other men and Trevor turned away. “Let’s get going then,” he said, heading toward the hallway.

Pete followed but not before catching a look between Wash and Rhodes.
Do they know Trevor’s gay?
he wondered.
Do they know
I
am?
Telling himself it didn’t matter either way, he squashed down the nervous butterflies that had fluttered to life at the thought. If they didn’t know, they would soon enough. Pete couldn’t keep his hands off Trevor for many more
minutes
, much less days. 84

Hide Out

Chapter Eight

“Now that we have more porch floor that won’t collapse, we should get a couple more camp chairs,” Trevor suggested. “For guests.” He shifted on the porch step he was sitting on next to Pete. Rhodes and Wash reclined in the two existing camp chairs, drinking beer as they watched the neighborhood settle in for the night. Wash snorted. “Or I have an idea. You could get actual furniture.”

“We’ll paint out here,” Pete said, “then we’ll get a porch swing and real chairs. I want to get those bedrooms done first though. I’m dying for a real bed.” Feeling his cheeks flush, he looked down at his beer bottle. It was probably obvious to everyone what he was really dying for—Trevor beneath him in a real bed.

“Can’t believe we’re actually in sleeping bags tonight,” Wash said, laughter in his voice. “Here’s that sleepover we’ve always dreamed of, Rhodie.”

Rhodes grunted. “Yay.”

Climbing to his feet, Pete told them, “I’m grabbing another beer. Anyone want anything?”

“I want to use the bathroom,” Trevor told him, standing up as well. “But you don’t have to get that for me. Think I can handle that on my own.”

“Good thing,” Pete said. “Or you’d have been out of luck.” He held the door open for Trevor to catch and made his way to the kitchen.

Placing his empty bottle by the sink, Pete turned around to find Trevor leaning against the wall, just inside the kitchen. “Thought you had to take a piss,” Pete said, stalking toward him.

“Lied,” Trevor told him, a catch in his voice that heated Pete’s blood. Bracing both hands against the wall on either side of Trevor’s shoulders, Pete leaned in close enough to feel the quick pants of Trevor’s breath against his lips. “You shouldn’t tell lies.”

“Guess you’ll have to punish me for that then,” Trevor suggested breathlessly. Pete sucked in air as all his blood flowed to his cock. Putting his mouth next to Trevor’s ear, he rasped, “You’re just dying to feel my hand smacking your ass, aren’t you?”

Tilting his head to the side and exposing his neck to Pete, Trevor groaned, the sound thick with want. Eagerly taking what was offered, Pete kissed and licked down Trevor’s neck, lightly biting the hard muscle where his shoulder joined. With another low moan, Trevor squirmed, pushing into his touch.

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Using his body to flatten Trevor against the wall, Pete held him still. He hissed a breath between his teeth as he pressed against the stiff bulge at Trevor’s crotch. Pete barely had to touch the man and he was as hard as a rock. This knowledge almost blew off the top of Pete’s skull.

Lifting his head, Pete stared into Trevor’s lust-drunk eyes before his gaze dropped to the luscious mouth below. Trevor’s teeth worried his bottom lip and Pete couldn’t look away. Something about seeing the edge of the other man’s teeth pressing against the red flesh of his lip drove him wild.

With a growl, Pete took that mouth with his own, hard and deep and showing no mercy. Although Trevor whimpered beneath the assault, both of his hands were twisted in Pete’s shirt, as if to prevent him from backing away. He needn’t have bothered. Pete had no intention of leaving. He kissed Trevor again and again, wishing he could kiss him so deeply it would show the world these lips were his, this body was his…
Trevor
was his.

Dropping one hand, he worked it between their bodies so he could grasp Trevor’s erection. The denim barrier of the other man’s jeans just added to the anticipation and Pete squeezed him through the fabric, loving the way Trevor moaned and grew beneath his hand.

A movement in his peripheral vision made Pete jerk away. Rhodes was in the doorway, watching them with narrow, smoldering eyes.

“What?” Trevor asked in a rough voice, before following Pete’s gaze to the kitchen doorway. “Rhodie, you mind?”

Rhodes blinked and a smile twitched at his mouth. “Right. Just came in to tell you we’re going for a run.”

“Good,” Trevor said, tugging at Pete’s shirt to bring him back into a kiss, but Pete frowned.

“A run?” he repeated. “Now?”

“Seems like a good time,” Rhodes answered, his eyes sliding down to where Pete’s hand still rested over Trevor’s crotch. “Carry on.” Turning around, he walked away. Pete and Trevor stood quietly, listening to the indistinguishable rumble of words from Rhodes on the porch.

“A run?” Wash’s voice was clear and appalled. “With you? You know I don’t run with you, Rhodie. You go too fast and yell at me if I have to stop and tie my shoe…” His voice trailed off as Rhodes said something else. “Fine, so maybe it
was
just an excuse to take a break but did I mention you run fucking
fast
? Do I look like the motherfucking Roadrunner? Besides, you go for miles and I want another beer and we’re both wearing
jeans
, for Christ’s sake and…”

Rhodes’ low voice interrupted again.

“Oh.” Whatever he’d said had calmed Wash right down. “Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place? Fine, I’ll go with you but I’m walking. You can run fucking 86

Hide Out

circles around me if you have to but I’m not going to run.” There was a pause and then Wash’s voice sounded much louder, as if he were yelling through the screen. “Have fun, you two. Use protection. We’ll be gone for a while. Why do I feel like I’m in a fucking college dorm? Fine, I’m coming.” His voice grew muffled, as if he were walking away. “I’m glad Trev’s finally getting some, after the way…” He’d moved far enough away that his words faded completely.

“Shit,” Trevor groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall behind him. “How long are they staying? It’s like having a set of gay, permissive grandparents in the house.”

Pete laughed. “Out of the house now,” he reminded Trevor. “We should take advantage of that.” His hips pressed against Trevor’s again.

“Right,” Trevor agreed, his fingers grabbing the hem of Pete’s shirt and tugging it up his torso. Pete lifted his arms so Trevor could slide the shirt off and toss it away. Pete yanked Trevor’s t-shirt off over his head and let it drop to the floor. Seizing Trevor’s head in both hands, he kissed him, sucking at his tongue and tugging at his lower lip with his teeth, thinking of the way Trevor nibbled on it when he was uncertain. He definitely wasn’t uncertain now. Pete felt the other man’s hands unbuttoning his jeans and he dropped his hands to lock them around Trevor’s wrists. Jerking back, Pete demanded, “Did I say you could do that?”

Trevor’s hands stilled in his grip and his eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. “No sir.”

Fuck, he loved this game.
“No I did not.” Pulling Trevor away from the wall a step, Pete pushed his lover’s hands behind his back. “Keep these here until I say you can use them.”

“Yes sir.” Judging by the way his chest heaved in and out, Trevor enjoyed this as much as he did. Popping open the button on Trevor’s jeans, Pete slowly lowered the zipper, watching the other man melt as each tooth of the fastener released its mate.

“What should your punishment be for not asking permission?” Pete growled, tucking both his thumbs beneath the waistbands of Trevor’s jeans and underwear.

“I don’t know, sir.” Trevor was vibrating with need. “Whatever you want.”

“What I want,” Pete said slowly, yanking Trevor’s jeans and underwear to midthigh, “is for you to bend over that counter.” He jerked his head toward the kitchen counter between the fridge and the sink. Trevor obeyed, walking awkwardly in his lowered jeans and lowering his chest against the smooth surface. The position left his ass exposed, displayed for Pete’s pleasure. Moving behind Trevor, he just looked for a moment at the hard globes that made his mouth water. It was too beautiful a sight to keep his hands off for long though. He used his foot to bump Trevor’s feet apart, until he was standing as widely as the jeans around his thighs would allow.

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Katie Allen

Kneeling behind Trevor, he pushed apart the ass cheeks in front of him and found the puckered hole with his tongue. Trevor jumped and swore at the touch, clearly not expecting the damp caress. Once the initial surprise wore off, however, he pressed back, silently asking for more.

Pete was happy to give him more. Trevor tasted amazing, just like he’d expected. Massaging the clenching muscles of his ass, Pete forced his tongue inside, working his way into the dark, hot hold of Trevor’s body. He withdrew and thrust again, deciding he’d be happy to stay on his knees forever, his tongue playing with the entrance to Trevor’s ass.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Trevor moaned and Pete redoubled his efforts, outlining the sweet spot with the tip of his tongue before darting in again. Reaching between Trevor’s spread thighs, Pete wrapped his fingers around his lover’s balls, squeezing with just enough force to draw another groan.

Releasing the sac, Pete slid his hand up to explore and discovered Trevor’s cock was caught between the counter’s edge and his body. There was a danger to that, a possibility of pain that excited him. With a final wet kiss against the opening to Trevor’s ass, Pete pulled away and stood up.

This time, Trevor’s moan was filled with disappointment and he squirmed in protest. Lifting his hand, Pete brought his palm down on Trevor’s ass and the sound of the smack reverberated through the kitchen. Trevor’s hips jerked in a way that made Pete suspect he’d pressed his erection against the counter. His own cock bobbed in reaction as he imagined the shot of pain that intensified the pleasure. He waited, stroking the reddening ass cheek, watching the man in front of him for a reaction. He was vibrating with such strong arousal Pete was afraid he’d take the whole house down like an earthquake—structurally sound or not.

“Please,” Trevor panted.

Pete’s fingers tightened on his flesh in a squeeze. “Please what?” His voice sounded like a stranger’s, rough and dirty and full of grit.

With a groan, Trevor pushed back into his grip. “More,” he begged. “Please.”

Gritting his teeth to keep from exploding, Pete raised his hand and brought it down sharply on the other cheek. Trevor’s cry trailed off into a whimper. His hips were still pushing back, asking for the fall of his hand, and Pete eagerly answered his unspoken plea, spanking his ass, hard and soft and hard again, until the skin burned hot beneath his hands.

Dropping back down to his knees, Pete rested his cheek against that heated ass, clutching Trevor’s hard thighs above his rumpled jeans. His heart was thundering, his breath panting against Trevor’s skin, and his erection pressed painfully against the front of his jeans. He had to take a moment to regain control, to fight back the wild beast that screamed at him to ram his cock deep into Trevor’s ass and fuck him mercilessly. With a groan, Pete turned his face so he could bite at the firm flesh, carefully keeping his teeth from pressing too deeply, barely scoring the surface of Trevor’s skin. 88

Hide Out

A shudder ran through Trevor. “Fuck me now,” he gritted out. “Please, Pete.”

Pete’s fingers dug into Trevor’s trembling thighs. He wanted to give Trevor what he needed, wanted more than anything to feel his bare cock squeezed by the tight grip of Trevor’s body, to fill his ass with cum until it ran down his thighs and marked him as Pete’s. With a snarl, he released his grip and pulled away. He knew he couldn’t do that to Trevor. “Condoms,” he managed to get out as he climbed to his feet. “Don’t move.”

Trevor choked out a laugh. “Not going anywhere. Hurry the fuck up.”

Although he desperately wanted to stroke a hand down that gorgeous, sore ass, Pete knew he would never be able to stop. Gritting his teeth so tightly a pain shot up to his temple, he ran for the bedroom.

He got back to the kitchen to find Trevor exactly as he’d left him, looking so irresistible and gorgeous and unbelievably fuckable, Pete skidded to a stunned halt and just stared.

“What are you waiting for, the grandparents to get back?” Trevor demanded. “Fuck me, for Christ’s sake!”

That snapped Pete out of motionlessness. “Giving orders again?” he asked, his voice silky with warning. Striding over to Trevor, he drew a line down Trevor’s spine with his finger, barely brushing his skin.

Trevor quivered. “Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so slow,” he snapped back, but Pete heard a shake in his voice, a crack in the bravado, and he smiled.

“So mouthy.” Pete tsked. “What will I do about that?” He tossed the condoms and lube on the counter next to Trevor. His gaze still fixed on the tempting sight in front of him, Pete unbuttoned his jeans and yanked the zipper down, shoving everything down far enough to free his desperate cock.

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