Page 33

“I want video of a cleansing as was agreed upon. Keep this cryptid nonsense for your dim-witted followers. You have five days to send me proof of the agreed upon completion of your side of the project, or this will go to my legal counsel, as I have, in good faith, sent you your retainer. Do not make me get litigious, Mr. Kee, for you will find yourself, my dismally disappointing son, and your aged grandfather sleeping on the street with the rest of the immigrants that filter into this country like fleas on the back of a mongrel.”

The line went dead.

I sat there staring down at the phone in my hand as if I’d been hit with a bolt of lightning. Stunned. Totally and wholly stunned.

“Kind of leaves you amazed but not in a good way, huh?” Phil asked from the doorway. My sight flew from his phone to him. He looked resigned and sad, so very fucking sad. “I came back for my phone for some tunes and…” He shrugged. “Just caught the end. It was enough anyway.”

“I just…” I had no words. He stepped further in, closed the door, and came to sit beside me, melancholy oozing off him in choking waves. “Phil, what we faced at the camp pales in comparison to the monster that your father is.”

“What did he say?” Phil prompted. I shook my head. “Tell me. What did he say?”

“Not much. He was mad that we didn’t send him film of us cleaning the campgrounds in a manner he felt it should be cleansed. Then he claimed we were trying to fuck him around by rolling around with a sick bear or some guy in a suit. He said we have five days to send him proper video or he’s suing us.”

“Sounds like him. He’s got more lawyers than most people have socks. I hate them all. And him.” His head fell forward. “What did he say when you told him I got hurt?” Shit. Shit. Shit. Here was the tiny boy that was Phil looking, even now with everything that had taken place, seeking some sort of kindness from his father. How did I tell him his sire hadn’t expressed any concern over Phil or—“You taking so long to answer tells me what I need to know.”

“Come here.” I shoved aside his phone to offer him my arms. He moved over the bed slowly, straddling me, his not insubstantial form settling on my thighs. Staring into his eyes, I saw the pain he was in, as well as the need for a deeper sort of consolation. His mouth slanted over mine as he grabbed my head, licking deeply into my mouth. I let him take the lead. Sometimes a person needed to have all the control when they felt as if they had lost it. Sometimes a person needed someone they trusted to take control so they could place that pressure onto a loved one’s shoulders. Phil needed something strong, tender, and powerful from me. I could sense that. Taste it in the way he kissed me with such wanton passion. His cock was hard against my belly. His hips began to rock up and then back as our tongues tangled. When breathing got dicey, we broke apart. I cradled that tempting ass of his through his joggers. “What do you want from me, babe?” I asked as he removed my glasses from my face.

“I need you to love me,” he replied softly, his hands cupping my face then tilting it so he could ravage my mouth once more. His passion was white-hot, his need to be shown he was adored above all else large, so I rolled my ass up from the mattress. He moaned into my mouth as my stiff dick pressed on his balls and taint. “So good. Archie, will you fuck me? Will you show me how much you care?”

“Phil, honey, I love you so damn much.”

“Show me,” he whispered plaintively.

“If that’s what you want,” I panted, spreading his cheeks then kneading the hard, muscled orbs roughly.

“I want it so bad…” He shuddered with want. I kissed him this time, easing him into the role he preferred most times. Phil fell sweetly into the place where he felt the most cherished. He tumbled to his back. We stripped rapidly, throwing clothes and phones and wet paint brushes to the floor.

Hopefully tossing the brush to the ragged carpet wasn’t an offense. If so, I’d ask for forgiveness later. My man needed me to soothe him, and that took precedence. Sorry not sorry, ancestors. Well, sort of sorry, but not sorry enough to stop to find a ceramic cup to place the brush in, so yeah. Kee Huang would flick my nose with a god-like finger the next time he came to see me in a dream.

“Lie back and let me show you just how precious you are,” I whispered as I slid over him, skin rubbing skin, his cock gliding over my belly, leaving a stripe of dampness as I moved over him to capture his mouth. His body hummed with pleasure and heat as his heels came to rest on my ass. Eager. Always so damn eager to have me inside him. I loved it. And I loved him. “Mm, you taste so good. Delicious. I need more.”

“Arch, I need you in me,” he moaned in vexation as I slithered down to begin the joyous process of kissing and tonguing every inch of his magnificent body. It still boggled my mind that this perfect specimen of man yearned for me as much as I did him. I’d spent years being ridiculed for being a weirdo, an Asian, a gay weirdo Asian. Then Phil came into my life to shower me with acceptance and adoration.

“Soon, I promise,” I assured him before delving into his navel with the tip of my tongue. My big, burly jock tittered like a giggly girl. Smiling softly, I kissed paths over his body. Road mapping my way to his tight nipples, then along his side to his pelvis, then down the inside of his thighs, my cheek brushing his weeping cock. That made him grunt softly as he rolled his hips to try to get his dick close to my lips. Which would happen just after I got his heavy balls sucked. When I took one orb into my mouth, his groan filled the room. I moved back and forth, sucking softly as my fingers began to delve into his crack to find paradise. He grabbed one thigh, tucking it to his chest to open himself wider for me, all the while whispering things that went right to my aching prick.

“Arch, that’s so good. I love what you do to me. Need you now. Arch, love me.”

I let his ball slip from my mouth to ask a very pertinent question. “Phil, did you bring anything?”

“I always bring anything,” he purred as I laved a sloppy line from his nuts to his tiny hole. He gasped as I speared it once before pressing my tongue flat to his furl. “I mean something. Fuck, fuck, Arch, my brain is pudding. Lube. Bag. Floor. Fuck!”

I tongued him furiously, easing a spittle-soaked finger into him. That sparked off a cascade of deep rolling shudders. Knowing him well, I eased off, his orgasm too close now. I wanted him to come when I was inside him. My cock kicked at that thought, so I sat back on my heels, dragged the back of my hand over my face, and gave him a long, hot look that spurred him to take his fat dick in hand.

“Don’t come yet,” I gruffly said and fumbled off the bed, stubbing my toe on a library book as I rushed to our bags. Inside his I found the treasure I sought. Tube of lube in hand, I leaped back on the bed. The headboard slapped the wall as the frame creaked ominously. Seeing him stretched out under me, his eyes soft and glowing, his cock rigid, and his sweet hole now soft and open for me, the slight worry over an old bedframe flew from my head. I slathered my dick with slick and rubbed some around his hole then up into him before pushing our pillows under his backside. He raised up to help, settling back down on the pillow that was wet with cinnabar paint. Oops. Damn. Housekeeping would think someone had been stabbed in here when they changed the bedding. We’d have to cough up some cash to cover—

“Arch, you still with me?” Phil asked.

“Yep, I’m with you. About to be deep inside you,” I replied, knee-walking closer, my cock leading the way as if it knew the way home. Which it did. Climbing up over him, I lined up my dick with his opening and eased in, inch by inch, my gaze flickering between enjoying that sensual O his mouth always formed when I entered him and the sight of my cock gliding into his ass. His heels came to rest on my lower back after I dropped over him, locking my arms. “You’re so pretty,” I whispered and got a shy, lovely smile.

“No, you are,” he replied and clenched around me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I growled, lowering my head as I began to slowly give in to the rhythm our bodies wanted. Slow at first, to let him adjust, and then ramping that up quickly. His legs tightened around me, squeezing as I rocked in and out of his heat. Then, without warning, I shifted a little higher. His lazy eyes flew open. There it was. That was the spot.

“Arch!” he yelped, grabbed my arms, and arched up as high as he could. Pegging his prostate got him to the summit in no time. Over he went, his cock spewing ropes of cum over the gold curls on his chest. Without even a hand on his dick. I took great pride in that, then let myself follow along. The white-hot spark detonated at the base of my spine, my balls tightened up, and I came with such force my arms buckled. I dropped down on him, cock pulsing, and let my brow drop to his shoulder and right in a puddle of spunk. I couldn’t have cared less. Spunk was good for your skin, ask any guy. I rode out my orgasm with Phil wrapped around me like the Boston Ivy plants covered several of the buildings on the LU campus.

Winded, and apparently boneless, I lay on my boyfriend like a squid, huffing in air as he kissed my hair, his hands gliding up and down my sweaty back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, tightening his ass around my dick to milk more cum from me. I moaned into his shoulder then slowly managed to lift my head. I looked at him and kissed him, on the mouth, and then at the corner of each watery eye.