|
Title: 18 - Smoke
Author: Haleth
Fandom/Pairing: BHD, McKnight/Grimes
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Sub/dom, kink, ingestion of body fluids. Explicit sex paired with pervy romance and plot. Mention of lesbianism. (NO - not Grimes and McKnight - they’re gay, silly!)
Disclaimer: Has absolutely nothing to do with the real life men the book and movie were based. It's only inspired by the movie and I make no profit. And I do not set forth this type of relationship as ideal or healthy for anyone. Although it works for these two.
Dedication: second_banana
Smoke
New Year’s Day, 1995
In the wee hours.
Grimes bounced on the balls of his feet and squinted at the dark trees. McKnight would be arriving soon, and Grimes wanted to be ready for him.
The new chair was waiting in the back room. It was almost exactly like the old chair, the one McKnight sat in when they were watching TV or listening to music or relaxing at the end of the day, except McKnight couldn’t enjoy a smoke in that chair, because it was inside the house and they didn’t smoke inside the actual house. They could only smoke outside or in the very back room, because there were still too many valuable things inside the house, things that had to be kept safe and smoke-free, if not odor free.
Some of the valuable things had a distinct, musty odor, the odor of things stored for a long time in less than ideal circumstances, especially the older books. Grimes had separated out those suffering from serious mold and shut them in a cedar-lined trunk with piles of cedar chips he’d bought at a pet supplies store. After a few months in the trunk, the mustiness would be gone with no harm to the paper. The guy at the magazine store claimed that a few seconds in the microwave would also get rid of mold; that worked okay for a 1968 Life magazine, but a not 600 page novel.
The first editions and signed-by-the-author books were mostly gone, sent to rare book dealers and memorabilia experts, as were most of the letters Grimes had found so far – sorted and catalogued and distributed. There always seemed to be more paper, though. Not a week went by when he did not discover a new box or trunk or suitcase full of possible treasure.
Some of the dealers were a bit rude to Grimes. They could tell he didn’t have the sort of formal education they deemed necessary to deal with these sorts of materials, but McKnight’s sister was steadfast in her defense of his abilities, and reassured him he was doing a good job.
The board seemed to like him. That was the group of colleagues named in Mildred’s will to handle her affairs. He’d met with them a few times, and they were unwaveringly friendly and encouraging. That could have been because McKnight’s sister told them to treat him well. Linda McKnight was not a person you disobeyed lightly. He also figured they were happy not to have a scholar doing the sorting, someone who might try to hoard things for his own use. While Grimes was aware, from his diligent research, of the intellectual and monetary value of the documents he’d uncovered, he was not out to forge an academic reputation on his finds. He never hid or ‘accidentally misplaced’ anything.
There were a couple of board members up at McKnight’s sis… Linda’s house, right now, for the New Year’s Eve party. Larger than the Christmas dinner, which had gone well, it was a gathering of teachers and librarians and a few historians and some artists. Grimes had spent most of the party in the kitchen, mixing drinks and putting food on plates and staying innocuous while being helpful. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel he had a lot to offer in the conversation department.
It was hard work. Linda kept reminding him not to call her ‘ma’am’. Grimes kept slipping up. Normally, when they were alone, he was able to call her Linda, but with all the people around he got a bit flustered and was, he supposed, seeking some sort of comfort. Calling Linda ‘ma’am’ seemed natural and comfortable to Grimes.
There were a lot of people. More people than Grimes had grown used to mingling with. One young woman had spent a lot of time with him, helping him with the food and chatting.
Roz was a very friendly, pretty and flirty teacher-librarian with bouncy brown hair and a slinky red dress that showed a little too much cleavage for Grimes’ comfort. Grimes sincerely hoped she wasn’t trying to pick him up. That would lead to an embarrassing scene. After all, he was supposed to be a normal, healthy bachelor, six months out of the army and looking to start a new life. It would look odd when he turned her down flat.
Grimes paced the length of the hall, through the kitchen to where the chair waited as a surprise for McKnight. He’d wanted to come up with something special after McKnight had put in with the stereo. He’d discovered the chair in a second-hand store. It was in perfect condition, plus it reclined, a feature Grimes couldn’t wait to explore fully.
That morning he’d installed a fan in the ceiling and put an air purifier in one corner of the back room, so now the door didn’t have to be left open when McKnight had a cigarette inside. They could have a comfortable smoke no matter what the weather.
McKnight could sit down, with the door closed and the curtains closed, sit in his chair and relax.
And Grimes could suck McKnight’s cock.
Grimes bounced and smiled as he looked at the chair, with the little table beside it, and the clean ashtray on the table, the muted light coming from the little desk lamp he’d found in the basement – both too new and too old to be valuable - and the thick rug on the freshly-scrubbed pine floor. He was sure McKnight would appreciate his efforts.
He did feel a little guilty. He really should be encouraging McKnight to quit smoking, and he should be quitting too. But Grimes was making healthy food for McKnight, and making sure he didn’t get too stressed out or drink too much, and McKnight had cut back on smoking, even if he wasn’t quitting. He promised himself to encourage McKnight to cut down further, although this would hardly encourage less smoking, since it would make smoking so much more enjoyable. He would have to keep doing whatever he could to encourage McKnight to go to the gym more often.
Oh, yeah, the gym was a good thing. McKnight would finish work and have a shower, then he would go to the gym and work out. Hard. And then he would come home. Hard. Still pumped and sweaty and ready to expend even more energy. McKnight was likely experiencing his best cardiovascular health in years.
McKnight’s new job, about which he couldn’t talk much, was less active than his old one, so he’d upped his PT. He was in good shape, solid and strong, although he would never be lean. Grimes wouldn’t have liked him skinny. He wanted him solid and strong and able to lift Grimes when he really wanted to.
Grimes fingered his hip. There was still a pale finger-shaped bruise from the week before. A bruise Grimes had been more than happy to receive. He closed his eyes and remembered the disorientation he’d felt, the dizzying swirl of the room when he’d been flipped on top of McKnight and driven down onto McKnight’s thick cock, fingers digging into his hip, McKnight’s mouth on his neck, teeth grazing.
Grimes slid his hand down to pat the bulge straining at his jeans. Patience, he told himself. McKnight couldn’t leave the party yet. He was supposed to be living at Linda’s house, so he couldn’t risk leaving until the last of the guests were gone.
But Grimes wished he didn’t have to wait so long. He’d been waiting all day, and half the party had been spent anticipating McKnight’s arrival. For the first part of the evening McKnight had been at the base, of course, like he always was on New Year’s Eve.
Grimes remembered the party on base the year before. It had been a somber affair, the losses of three months before weighing heavily on everyone. There were visible spaces where the fallen would have stood. People seemed to walk around the empty air, holes in the crowd, unwilling to step through the ghosts of Smith and Ruiz and Pilla and the others.
It had been enlisted men for the most part. There was another party for officers, but McKnight had left the officers’ party, had a few beers and talked to his men and said hello to Grimes, asked about his leg, given him a light for a cigarette. Friendly, only friendly.
Grimes had thought about McKnight later, after midnight and the end of the party. Grimes was still living on base back then, going to rehab every day. He was sharing a room with a kid from Wisconsin who’d never seen any action, who hadn’t known anyone who died in Mogadishu. The kid had got himself properly soused to welcome the new year and was passed out on his side of the room, snoring.
Grimes still had to be careful. No one was going to fault a soldier for jacking off, so he didn’t care so much about being caught; what he cared about was someone figuring out that while he was jacking off, he was thinking about the gruff Lieutenant Colonel.
More precisely, he was thinking about the gruff Lieutenant Colonel’s brightly shined boots and his crisp dress uniform, and the way that after a few drinks, McKnight had undone a few buttons at the top of his uniform and Grimes could see chest hairs peeking out, and how heavy and warm McKnight’s hand been as it lingered on his shoulder when he said good night. Of course, back then he’d had no idea McKnight’s hand had lingered for a reason.
One year ago was the first time he masturbated while thinking specifically about McKnight.
It had been awkward, three days later, when he ran into McKnight in the hallway outside the rehab office. McKnight was visiting one of the guys. Grimes tried to be casual, but he knew he’d been vibrating from head to toe, and he could tell McKnight had noticed.
That evening six months later, the night he left the base as a civilian and ran into McKnight at the bar, Grimes could not have imagined he would be standing in a darkened kitchen on New Year’s Eve, waiting for McKnight to come home to him.
Fuck.
Maybe he was dreaming.
He’d thought he was dreaming a couple of hours earlier when McKnight walked into Linda’s living room, in his dress uniform, all shaved and polished and shiny decorations and a neat new haircut and shiny boots. Grimes could tell he had only had a drink or two at the base, and he’d left early so he could be at this party instead.
Roz had grabbed McKnight’s arm and gone on about how wonderful it was that Linda’s brother could make it to the party, and then she openly flirted with him. And why not? If it were socially acceptable, Grimes would flirt with McKnight every chance he got. But it irked him, a bit. Surely, McKnight wasn’t her type. Ten minutes earlier she’d brushed a breast against Grimes’ arm and giggled at him as if she wanted him. How could she flirt with Grimes and then turn around and flirt with McKnight? Talk about apples and oranges. Maybe it was the uniform.
Oh, the uniform. The fucking uniform. Officer’s uniform. Grimes pulled out a pack of smokes and lit one, sitting gingerly on the chair. He had to get a grip on himself. Or not. He wasn’t supposed to get a grip on himself. McKnight had whispered to him just before he left.
“Keep your hands out of your pants,” McKnight had whispered.
So Grimes sucked furiously on the cigarette and waited. Less patiently, now.
McKnight had brushed off Roz politely. He’d said a perfectly respectable, acceptable ‘hello’ to Grimes, kissed his sister on the cheek, shook hands with the people whom he knew from the little Christmas dinner, met the new people. He’d acted like an officer should in a civilian social situation. And it had been killing Grimes.
At midnight there was much merriment. People who normally just worked together or barely knew each other hugged and kissed, something Grimes had never fully understood. Grimes accepted a warm embrace from Linda, who kissed his forehead and told him how happy she was that he was there. He’d looked over to see Roz taking full advantage of the New Year tradition, kissing McKnight right on the lips. But he could see that McKnight wasn’t kissing back, and those intense blue eyes were on Grimes the whole time.
Grimes had been standing at Linda’s sink, washing glasses, when he felt a hot hand on the small of his back.
“Happy New Year,” McKnight said in a neutral tone, but he licked his lips after he said it.
“Sir,” Grimes breathed out, careful that no one heard.
“You look beat. Maybe you should go home and get some, ah, rest.”
Grimes had nodded. And then McKnight had whispered the thing about keeping his hands out of his pants and Grimes had feared he might pass out from the sudden rush of blood to his cock.
How late did teachers stay at New Year’s Eve parties anyway? It was two in the morning, a brand fucking new fucking year, and Grimes wanted to get on with it!
This would be his first full year as a civilian in a long time. And it was starting as a very good year indeed. He had a decent job, although that would only last until he ran out of things to find and sort and clean and put on sale or distribute, but for the time being he was well employed. He had a great place to live and an even better person to share it with. And McKnight would be in town, for sure, for almost two more years and he seemed to have every intention of spending those two years with Grimes, no matter what Grimes was doing for a living.
Grimes was so absorbed in that thought, he almost singed his fingers when the cigarette burned down to the filter.
“Careful, soldier,” McKnight’s voice floated across the room. Not in Grimes’ head. It was real. McKnight was standing in the doorway, still in full uniform.
Grimes dropped the cigarette in the ash tray and stood up. “Sir, I was waiting and I… I’m sorry. I was sitting in your new chair.” He stood more or less at attention, with his hips tilted only slightly out of alignment to ease the pressure on his cock.
“So you were… is this my new chair?”
Grimes nodded. “Yes, sir. A surprise, sir.”
McKnight peered up at the source of the quiet hum. “And that’s my new exhaust fan?”
“Affirmative, sir.”
“Your rug, though,” McKnight mused.
Grimes felt his cheeks go hot.
McKnight stepped forward and touched Grimes on the forearm. “Hey, whatever makes you comfortable.”
Grimes felt silly all of a sudden. Really, making the floor more comfortable. What was he thinking? And what was this compulsion he had to be on the floor anyway? They’d never talked about it, but sometimes he caught McKnight looking at him, watching him, probably wondering why he was so perverse. McKnight wasn’t into it as much as Grimes, or so Grimes feared sometimes.
Grimes suddenly, desperately needed some sort of reassurance, some sign that this was still what McKnight wanted. Because McKnight at that party, in uniform, perfectly respectable, young woman flirting with him, people treating him with the respect he deserved - maybe that was what McKnight would really want if he had a choice. He could have it, too. All he had to do was say it was what he wanted.
Grimes shifted, left foot to right, with the thick rug cushioning the bottoms of his feet.
McKnight’s hand slid up Grimes’ arm, across his shoulder, up to the top of his head, fingers spreading in the soft hair. The slightest bit of pressure…
Grimes knelt on the rug, holding his breath.
“That’s a good boy,” McKnight said, voice harsh with need.
Grimes pressed his face against McKnight’s groin, content for a moment to simply feel. To feel the ridge of McKnight’s cock against his cheek, and McKnight’s fingers stroking his scalp, and the cushioning of the rug beneath his knees.
But then he wanted more.
McKnight held his head still. “That party…” McKnight stroked Grimes’ cheek. “All those people. I couldn’t wait to leave the base. Colonel Marks cornered me and was going on about feasibility and long-term fucking forecasts and, fuck, I knew you would be waiting for me but I had to keep quiet about it. Then at Linda’s place, I just wanted to kick them all out so we could be alone.”
Grimes opened his eyes and stared up at McKnight.
McKnight’s fingers tightened on his scalp. “You’re so fucking perfect, I wonder if I’m imagining it,” McKnight whispered.
Grimes felt dizzy. No, he was dizzy. And he’d hardly had anything to drink at all. He rubbed his cheek against McKnight’s cock, but McKnight stopped him, cupped his cheek, tilted his face up. He had a terribly serious look on his face.
A deep line appeared in the middle of McKnight’s forehead. Grimes could actually see the edges of teeth, digging into McKnight’s upper lip. Grimes could clearly see this was serious, that McKnight was making a decision, or at least expecting Grimes to agree to something.
“I was thinking the same thing, sir,” Grimes said, and his voice only wavered slightly at the end, hoping this introspection wouldn’t get in the way of the night ending in a perfect way. The only kind of ‘spection’ Grimes was interested in was inspection, and not of the parade variety.
McKnight’s mouth opened, just slightly. Grimes thought about McKnight’s tongue inside his mouth. He couldn’t help it.
“Am I taking advantage of you?” McKnight asked earnestly.
What? Where the hell had that come from?
“I mean…” McKnight gestured toward the row of shiny decorations on his chest, the proof of his life of service with distinction. “I’m your superior officer.”
What the hell happened at the base party? Had someone caught shit for fraternizing? Was there some impropriety revealed, or suspected, or accused? Or had the woman at the party made him think an easier life would be preferable?
Grimes had to put a stop to this uncertainty. He stood up, leaned his head down, and closely regarded the decorations and insignia. “Very impressive, sir, but I’m not in that army anymore. There’s only the two of us here.”
McKnight had his hands up around Grimes’ head, holding the back of it as if preventing him from fleeing.
“Would you please sit in your new chair, sir? I have some serving to do.”
Grimes waited, but no command came, no response.
Maybe he’d gone too far. It wouldn’t be the first time. Grimes had always been a pushy bottom, and he knew it. It pissed off some tops. He knew that all too well. But McKnight seemed to appreciate a little guidance, even if he usually knew exactly what to say, when to say it, what to tell Grimes to do, how to tell Grimes to do it…
McKnight was hesitating just a bit too long.
Grimes sank down on his knees and put his hands behind his back, clasping his forearms in the most submissive way he knew. He hoped the gesture would solve whatever issue McKnight was having.
“I don’t want a…” McKnight bit his tongue. It was visible to Grimes, even from this lower vantage point. McKnight ran his fingers through Grimes’ hair. “John, I don’t want you to think you have to do anything. I don’t want to be…”
Fuck. Shit. What did McKnight want? A boyfriend? A partner? An equal?
It had always been obvious that McKnight was working on instinct. If he thought about things too much, he got conflicted. But if he couldn’t see the equality between them, if he didn’t realize that this was the best, most equal, most satisfying relationship Grimes had ever had in his whole life… Grimes had to turn this thing around, right away.
“Danny,” Grimes said, to really get his attention.
McKnight blinked.
“With all respect, sir, you are not my superior officer.”
McKnight took in a loud breath.
“You’re my commanding officer, sir. And I’m pleased, and honored to obey.”
McKnight let out the breath.
“Sit in the chair, Danny.”
McKnight sat.
Grimes shuffled forward on his knees as McKnight opened his fly. Grimes gave his most winning smile. ‘Please,’ he thought. ‘Please read my mind.’
McKnight pulled out his meaty cock and gave it a short, harsh stroke.
Fuck, yes! He still knew!
It had only been a glitch, a brief moment of uncertainty. New Year’s Eve-induced self-doubt. A fleeting moment of uncertainty brought on by the uninvited incursion of a beautiful woman’s tongue in his mouth. Passing desire for the sort of relationship he could openly flaunt.
But McKnight had not succumbed to the peer pressure. Everything was fine.
“Wait,” McKnight said. He gestured toward Grimes’ jeans. “Take your cock out. I want to see it.”
Grimes obeyed. He pulled out his cock, so hard it was starting to get tender.
“Hands behind your back.”
Grimes’ cock stood out obscenely from his open jeans. McKnight stared down at it and stroked his own cock with a deliberateness Grimes could physically feel from where he knelt.
“Good boy,” McKnight growled.
Grimes wanted to jump up and kiss him, but it would spoil the mood. And the mood was deliciously thick – Grimes suspended in a state of barely controlled lust, McKnight’s desire burning up the air between them, the delicate power balance zinging around the two of them. What a perfect way to start the year. It was bound to be a good omen, to start off with such a moment of perfect accord.
“Lick me,” McKnight said.
Grimes fell on his cock. He fell on it and licked. From bottom to top and back again. He swirled his tongue around the head and tasted. He slurped and savored. He licked around the base, and McKnight’s balls and McKnight stomach and then his cock again and he kept licking.
“Suck me,” McKnight said.
Grimes opened his mouth wide and took in as much of McKnight’s cock as he could. It filled his mouth completely. He worked the head to the back, lodged it in his throat, made the muscles move as best he could.
There was the bright flare of a match. God, yes. Grimes dared to look up. McKnight’s face was lit by the flame as he touched it to the end of his cigarette.
McKnight glowered down at him. “You stopping?”
Grimes shook his head, with the cock still in it, and resumed the blow job.
It was harder for McKnight to smoke casually than it had been the first time they’d done this, and Grimes truly appreciated the tremendous effort McKnight was exerting. McKnight had to pretend to be casual, and it showed, and that made it all the better, because Grimes understood that McKnight wasn’t faking anything. He really did want to command, and he wanted to command Grimes above all others. So it wasn’t deceit, when he had to try so hard to act as if he were taking Grimes for granted when it obviously meant so much to him; it was dedication to the task.
McKnight stubbed out the smoke and grabbed Grimes by the hair. It hurt just enough to make Grimes moan, but not enough to cause pain.
“Now you are stopping.”
Grimes nodded. He knew what came next. It was a moment he had replayed in his mind a million times. The moment that had changed his whole life. He straightened and shuffled closer and grabbed his own cock.
“That’s it. Good boy. Jerk off for me.”
It was as if they had both known, from the very beginning, that this was how things would be.
Before that evening at Linda’s house, Grimes never would have considered dirtying someone with his come. He had never come on anyone on purpose in his whole life. But when McKnight told him to do it, he’d obeyed, and as he was licking his own come off McKnight’s hard cock, it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Mutual. Equal. Fucking hot. Something he wanted to do again. Something he had done again, on several occasions. Something he was about to do, any moment now.
He fisted himself and stared raptly at McKnight’s cock. McKnight was handling himself, roughly, almost desperately. He hadn’t done that the first time. But since then, he’d jerked off onto Grimes often enough that there were no inhibitions, although Grimes didn’t think he would ever get used to it.
Every time McKnight laid a finger on his own cock, Grimes wanted to tell him no, I should be doing that. Now, as they both touched themselves at the same time, Grimes understood how intimate it was. Grimes had to slow his stroking or he would come right away.
“No, don’t stop, don’t slow down. I want you to come.” McKnight said.
Grimes sped up again and whimpered. He was so close, a word or three away from coming.
“Come on me,” McKnight growled.
And those were the exact, perfect three words. Grimes groaned, gave his cock a half few very fast, very hard yanks, and held it steady at the base, aiming. He watched in amazement as McKnight's cock leapt when the come hit it. He watched his come hit the skin, cock, balls, stomach, of his commanding officer. And it was okay. It was what McKnight wanted. And McKnight could have whatever he wanted, any time.
And that was as it should be.
McKnight grunted and threw his head back. Shit, he was coming. He was coming and Grimes was kneeling there like an idiot. He didn’t even have his mouth anywhere near it. He tried to lean forward, to catch at least some of it on his tongue, but McKnight’s free hand shot out and held him by the shoulder.
He was helpless. He had to watch. He had to helplessly watch McKnight’s come spurt out of his cock and land on his stomach and his clean uniform, and then drip over McKnight’s hand and mix with Grimes’ come. McKnight’s hand was firm on his shoulder, holding him back. He looked up to see McKnight’s mouth open in a wordless cry.
McKnight’s head lolled forward and he gave Grimes a lazy grin. “You gonna clean that up?” he asked, releasing Grimes’ shoulder.
Was he ever! Grimes bent down and touched the tip of his tongue to the slit of McKnight’s cock. McKnight hissed. Grimes moaned. McKnight rubbed his come-soaked hand across Grimes’ cheek.
“Lick it all up,” McKnight growled. “And by the time you’re done, I’ll be ready to fuck you.”
Grimes tried to smile and lick up the come at the same time, but it was impossible. He had to settle for a smirk.
“Don’t…”
Grimes looked up again. “I know,” he said, with the words a bit slurred around the come he already held in his mouth, and went back to licking.
McKnight petted his hair gently the whole time, running his fingers through it and sighing. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered. Grimes had to keep cleaning him, no matter how that made him feel. He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest.
When he was done, Grimes lay his head on McKnight’s thigh and gazed upward. He didn’t care how perverse he was. He only cared about pleasing his commanding officer.
McKnight stroked his cheek.
Grimes waited patiently to be told to swallow.
McKnight pushed his head up. “Time to share,” he said.
The lips on his were hot and hard. They forced Grimes’ mouth open immediately.
Grimes’ moan rumbled at the base of his throat but couldn’t get out, because McKnight’s tongue was blocking the way. McKnight was moaning as he licked the inside of Grimes’ mouth, scooping up Grimes’ come and his own come. Grimes let his mouth be opened wide, let the come be sucked out of him, let McKnight take all he wanted.
“Was it necessary to flirt with every man at the party?”
“I didn’t. Only the ones who weren’t available.”
“What do you call that? Safe flirting?”
“Mr. Howard is too old, Steve Anderson is too shy and Mr. Grimes is already spoken for.”
“And Danny?”
“He’s the one speaking for Mr. Grimes, of course.”
Linda McKnight’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”
“I happen to have excellent gaydar,” Roz replied haughtily as she propped up her pillow against the headboard. “Besides, the looks they kept giving each other - it was obvious.”
“How do you know they weren’t just flirting?” Linda asked.
“Pulllease, Linda. Their eyes were burning up the air between them. I could see the smoke. And where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
“Stop! I have no desire to hear hackneyed aphorisms of a quality that would earn you a solid C minus in my class.”
“So, stop asking silly questions. I don’t see the need for all the secrecy. It was hardly fair that I had to leave and go sit in my car until your brother decided to leave…”
“It was the only way to get Steve to leave. He may be too shy to actually approach anyone, but he’s persistent. He wouldn’t leave until you left.”
Roz flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Bull. And besides, I really don’t care who your brother is fucking.”
“But he cares who knows.” Linda stretched her long body against Roz’s smaller one and nuzzled her lover’s shoulder.
“Please tell him I wouldn’t snitch on him. Then I can stop all this sneaking around. Or does he even know about me?”
“No one knows about you.”
“Are you ashamed of me? For being so much younger than you?”
“Goodness, no. I’d love to brag about you to the whole town, if it wouldn’t result in us both being fired. Our age difference isn’t that much more than the one between Danny and his boyfriend.”
“Do you ever plan on telling anyone?”
Linda gently nibbled Roz’s earlobe. “Keeping things top secret is working so well for Danny and Mr. Grimes; I thought we’d try it for a bit longer.”
Roz rubbed her whole body against Linda. “Mmm, and tell me, do you also share your brother’s propensity for topping?”
Linda made an annoyed noise. “There are no secrets around you, are there?”
“People only keep secrets about me, they can never keep them from me. Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do you want to be my mistress in the kinky sense of the word?” Would you enjoy– ” Roz stopped talking as she was pushed back on the bed and covered by Linda’s body, her legs spread abruptly and one nipple caught between teeth. She whimpered prettily.
Linda let the nipple fall from her mouth. “If that is what you truly desire,” she growled. Teasing. She was only teasing. She kissed Roz on the tip of her nose.
Roz whimpered again. “Oh, fuck, if that’s a family trait, no wonder Mr. Grimes looked so delirious when Danny whispered in his ear. I thought he was going to come in the kitchen sink.”
Linda laughed and rolled off Roz. “Mr. Grimes is not only very discreet. He is fastidious. I can assure you, he would stop short of ejaculating on the plumbing fixtures unless he was told to do so.”
Roz snuggled against Linda’s side. “I don’t get it. I mean, I understand power play, but with those two, it looks like more than just playing. I even heard Mr. Grimes call him ‘sir’.”
“He tries hard not to do that in public, poor dear. He tries to hide everything, but he’s utterly smitten. He’d do almost anything for Danny.”
“Do you think that’s healthy?”
Linda thought for a moment. “It might not be, except Danny would actually do anything for him. Mr. Grimes holds the power, I believe. I doubt there’s any harm being done, and Danny has never been so happy in his whole life. I think they’re charming together.”
“I agree, but right now I’m not interested in them at all. All I’m interested in is you.”
“What a lovely coincidence…”
Continued in: Fire
Back to: Soldier Porn
L
|
