Just Ask (13 page)

Jordan nodded, swallowing, taking that last mental step to be at Ryan’s ultimate mercy. Ryan rose on his knees and guided Jordan’s cock between his ass cheeks, slipping the head up and down, lubing his tight hole. He sank down, the tip inching in, past the ring of muscles. Blowing a breath out, Ryan sank again, the hammock swaying ever so gently under the exertion. The tightness, the heat, even through the condom…Jordan moaned, fighting the urge to buck his hips and sink root-deep.

“Be still, Jordan,” Ryan coaxed, his voice as tight as his hard-again cock. He dipped forward, the hardness of his shaft rubbing up Jordan’s stomach.

“I want to fuck you,” Jordan growled, his balls tight.

“I know you do, but that’s a treat you’ll have to wait for,” Ryan soothed. He sank that last inch so Jordan was lodged fully in his tight ass. “I want you to show me how much you want me.”

Jordan tried to buck, and the hammock swayed dangerously.

Ryan laughed and leaned in to nip Jordan’s tight nipple, drawing the tiny peak under his tongue. “Nope, not that way.”

“Fuck me,” Jordan whispered, panting, desperate. His cock needed movement.

“Still sounds like a command. Commands mean I inch off.” To prove his point, Ryan rose on his knees again, Jordan’s shaft leaving the sanctuary of his tight hole inch by inch.

Jordan licked his lips, terrified in a turned-on way. “Please? I would like you to move.”

“I was moving,” Ryan taunted, sliding off another inch.

“Please sink down on me. Please, Ryan. My fucking balls can’t take much more.”

“Well, if your fucking balls are begging…” Ryan laughed and sank down fully, his own balls nestled against Jordan’s groin. He pitched forward and laced his fingers in Jordan’s, pinning him down. “You ready? Because I’m going to fuck you hard.”

“God, yes, please.” Jordan’s cock pulsed in response, greedy to be ridden.

“Lay still,” Ryan warned and claimed Jordan’s lips in a hot, all tongue kiss. His hips began the ancient slide, his ass coursing up and down Jordan’s slick shaft. Up, down, the muscles squeezing, gripping Jordan’s cock like a hot iron fist that refused to let up.

Jordan tensed, the hammock swinging, his hands clutching Ryan’s in frank desperation. He felt as if a tidal wave was looming, just off the beach, ready to sweep in and claim them both, and only Ryan’s ass kept him anchored.

So helpless under Ryan’s hard body, his muscular thighs gripping his hips tight, his chest pressing down, trapping Jordan. Ryan’s mouth offered its own brand of sweet punishment, his tongue lashing, tangling, dueling, demanding he keep up the pace. Jordan’s tongue was the only thing he was allowed to move, to control.

Jordan willed the orgasm to surface, but Ryan’s talented hips knew when to hold off, so only the gentle sway of the hammock stimulated motion.

Ryan broke the kiss, panting. “Beg for release.”

“Fuck, no.” Jordan fought it, panicking for just a moment at the depth of control Ryan held over him. Too much. Way too much.

“Think how good it will feel to come, to fill my ass? I know you want to. Let loose, Jordan. Give me the power.” Ryan kissed his lips quickly. “Look at me.”

Jordan met his gaze, the moonlight offering just enough to see the lust and need in Ryan’s eyes. He needed this control as much as Jordan needed to release it. Jordan gripped Ryan’s fingers tighter, clenching as his cock begged silently for the release his mouth refused to ask for.

“You can do this,” Ryan breathed in his ear, sliding again, stirring his orgasm to new heights. “Give me the power. I promise not to abuse it. Only give you the sweetest pleasure. Give in, Jordan.”

Jordan could do this, too. He wanted to, so badly, to let Ryan in. It felt right. The pleasure would be fucking amazing. Every bone, muscle, tendon in Jordan’s body relaxed, and he closed his eyes. “Let me come, please,” Jordan managed. He trembled, his balls tightening until they felt blue and suffocated, wanting to explode. “Please. I’m yours. I’ll do anything. Please.”

Ryan kissed him, this time in a gentle press of hard lips, more of a reward than anything. “Come for me, Jordan.”

Jordan groaned and the tidal wave crashed. His ass clenched as the wave overtook him, the pleasure greater than any orgasm he’d ever experienced. He bucked just once, enough to seat Ryan deep as he shot into his quivering, spasming ass.

“Ryan,” he moaned, unable to help himself, needing to hear his lover’s name, to remind him who owned him at this split second in time.

“Fuck, yes.” Ryan came, too, his cum hot on Jordan’s stomach. Ryan grunted and leaned forward, their fingers still intertwined, kissing his lips with something that tasted like reverence.

Fucking amazing, all of it. Ryan kissed Jordan’s neck and then tucked his head there on Jordan’s shoulder. They lay like that for what seemed like forever, lulled by the gentle crashing of waves. Ryan’s breathing finally returned to normal in soft puffs across his chest.

“Thank you,” Jordan said when he wasn’t quite so overwhelmed by the emotions.

“See how good it can be when you meet the challenge?” Ryan asked, his tone smug as he kissed Jordan’s lips.

“It was fucking amazing.” Jordan didn’t want it to end but felt his cock softening, still lodged in Ryan’s ass. Maybe someday, they could do this without a condom, and Jordan could fall asleep, his cock still deep in Ryan’s ass, or vice versa. “Did we burn dinner?”

Ryan shifted and let Jordan’s cock fall free. “No, I took the food out when I went in for lube.” He kissed Jordan again, his lips lingering and gentle. “Let’s swim quickly to rinse off, and then eat.”

Though he had just had the most incredible orgasm, a part of Jordan wanted more. More of Ryan and his commanding tone, more submission. More…freedom. “You think it’s seven? I think my dick will spring up like Pavlov’s dog at seven, just because.”

Ryan laughed. “I’ll fuck you after dinner again, greedy man. Like I said, it’s seven somewhere.”

“Keep this up, and I may come around to your way of thinking.”

Ryan smiled and slid off the hammock, reaching for Jordan’s hand. “One can only hope.”

Chapter Eight

Ryan woke first, the early morning breeze too much for his bare skin. He rolled and covered Jordan with the sheet, careful not to disturb the intertwining of their legs with his movements. Jordan, so handsome, conflicted, and sad. Definitely sad, and echoes of Jordan’s grief could be seen and heard often, in a fleeting flicker of pain, in the hoarseness of his voice.

Ryan wanted to stroke Jordan’s cheek but resisted. Already his face was taking on a healthier glow instead of that pale, translucent look from too much florescent lighting. His laugh had come quicker yesterday, his sense of humor delightfully warped. Jordan had been courteous to everyone, polite. He took direction well even when way the fuck out of his element, like at the coral reef or as he galloped Brownie down the beach for the first time, his eyes alive with pure joy.

And Jordan was generous, especially with his body. The fact that Jordan Hill, powerful business mogul was submissive and had given up his sexual power was beyond mind-blowing. Touching, because Ryan would bet a case of kava root it wasn’t something Jordan had done before. Maybe he’d come close with his fuck friend, but he’d never totally submitted.

Jordan was a guy, so he had his faults. Bossy. Quick to judge at times. Smug. Neat freak. But down deep, Jordan was a good man, one that Blake had trusted with his life, had loved deeply, beyond the familial bond. Ryan felt all this, felt the aching hole in his heart healing and filling in with something huge. He hadn’t felt this since Mark’s death, and it was scary. That something wonderful was like cake icing to his heart, oozing over it in such a short amount of time that it left him breathless and doubtful.

Unfortunately, Ryan knew he was fucked.

Today, they’d set Blake free. Ryan had planned a bit of a ceremony, something Blake would want to make his homecoming perfect. Ryan would make love to Jordan one last time, and then he’d send Jordan back to the hotel. One more night wouldn’t change a damned thing except for smoothing out the sweet frosting Jordan had used to patch Ryan’s damaged heart back together.

Then Monday, Jordan would bring the paperwork to sell everything.

Ryan studied Jordan, feeling so raw. Tomorrow he’d feel worse. Not enough time. Not nearly enough time to show Jordan how to live, to let him see that the island was his dream. Blake had known time was critical, had told him this before he’d gone off to the States to die. Ryan wished Jordan could be his dream, too. Though they’d joked about Jordan living here, the idea of the house being empty Monday morning unsettled him. He’d been alone for so long, and now that his heart and space were filled with joy, he wanted more. Selfishly.

“Hey,” Jordan whispered, his eyes sleepy and sexy, all at the same time. They’d made love several times last night after the hammock, reaching for each other when arousal hit, easing the need until they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. A perfect way to spend a Saturday night.

“Hey, yourself.” Ryan cleared his throat, his voice a little raspy as he rolled onto his stomach, pinning his growing hard-on underneath him. He would allow himself the luxury of Jordan’s company for the day, revel in the closeness so he’d have memories to keep when he was shifting his life to somewhere else. He didn’t know if the tentative bonds of friendship would last through the sale, but the memories would satisfy his cock. “Ready for shower sex?”

Jordan rolled onto his stomach, mirroring Ryan, and stretched. “I hope you drop the soap.”

“Hoping to ogle my ass, are you?” Ryan reached over and slapped Jordan’s ass, loving how his cheeks clenched, the muscles firm.

“I’m ogling now.”

“I don’t think you asked permission for that,” Ryan chided softly.

Jordan grinned and smacked Ryan’s ass with his palm, the sting making his cock jerk. “Nope. I’m taking my pleasure on this one. Got an issue with that?”

“No.” Ryan rose and held out a hand to Jordan. “But later, I just might.”

Jordan’s grin widened and became something very dirty and sexy, all at the same time. “Then I’ll take my chances until later.”

****

Later that morning they rode out to the waterfall in silence, the only sounds those of the horses snorting and brushing through the vegetation, island noises, and the faint sound of rushing water. Jordan couldn’t bring himself to say much. Blake’s ashes were in front of him, in Trigger’s saddle bags.

Trigger was also getting used to island life. The solution to a spooky horse was to give him something else to think about, Ryan informed him. So Trigger had been put into boot camp, slaving like a mine pony for his feed. It was working, because the golden horse had only half-heartedly spooked once at the pokey plants slapping his rump in one section.

Jordan knew how Trigger felt, coming to the island, scared as shit only to find himself settling in and liking it. The people were friendly, the food was tasty, the humidity was a bitch but there was usually a breeze to take off the edge of the moist heat. The scenery was beautiful, especially Ryan’s ass in the saddle ahead of him, swaying along with the horse’s walk.

Trigger had found himself a good owner, a kind man, one with a huge heart open to whatever life tossed his way. In so many ways, Jordan wished he were Trigger. He frowned, and swatted at a bug, not sure where his mind was going with that thought.

They rode on through the jungle, both wearing Hawaiian shirts Blake would love, baseball caps of opposing teams and jeans, Jordan’s softer since he’d tossed them in the wash at Ryan’s. He hadn’t done laundry since college, and the act of washing his jeans to wear them to bury his best friend was mundane but earthy. It reminded him he was alive, here, and he had something to be thankful for.

“Did Blake ride?” Jordan called forward, feeling stupid that he never knew and hadn’t asked as of yet. Actually, he hadn’t asked as much as he wanted about Blake, because, though he felt Blake everywhere around him, asking was too close.

Ryan glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes, he learned. He liked tearing down the beach.”

“What did Blake not like about the island?”

“The spiders.” Ryan shot him a shit-eating grin. “He was terrified of them. Had nightmares. That’s why he slept at the hotel.”

“He didn’t want to be your roommate.”

“We would have killed each other eventually. He was even more relaxed than I am about most things. It drove me nuts.” Ryan shifted again, his hand on the back of the saddle. “He thought I was uptight.”

“You? Uptight?”

Ryan tugged his baseball cap over his eyes with a grin. “Yep.”

“I miss him.” Sadness hit Jordan square in the chest, locking down his lungs. “I didn’t know how I could live without him, yet I’ve been doing it for three weeks. Somehow.”

“He’s still with you, Jordan. Here, New York. He wouldn’t abandon you.”

“Yeah.” But Jordan did feel that way, like some orphan left on the side of the road, wishing Blake would come back and pick him up, laughing that it was all a joke.

“Have you lost anyone before?” Ryan asked.

“Nope. A grandmother, but she was ancient, and she lived in California. I think I met her twice. And Blake’s parents. That’s it.”

“I felt abandoned after Mark died,” Ryan admitted. He pulled Trigger to the side and Brownie inched up next to them so they were side by side, Ryan a little taller in the saddle since Trigger was taller by a few inches. “Mark died, and even in a crowd I felt alone, insignificant. Small. I hated it, because I never felt that way before Mark.”

“That must have been a huge blow, to lose Mark and now Blake.”

Ryan nodded. “Losing Mark made me take stock in my life. He had wanted to do so much, go so many places. He didn’t, because duty called. He lived life around his job.” Ryan adjusted his reins. “We were planning on a trip here when the headaches started, our first real vacation, here, as a couple. That was big for him. He went to the doctor, and they gave us the news. Brain cancer.

“Mark told me I had to take the trip out to see Blake, without him, but I didn’t go until after Mark had passed because I was terrified. I’d never been on a plane myself, never to an island, never to the Pacific. I got off the boat here, everyone was yelling
bula,
and I remember this really obnoxious Hawaiian shirt parting the sea of brown bodies at the dock, teeth flashing white, Blake’s skin a lighter tan. And for the first time, I didn’t feel abandoned anymore.”