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Title: 34 - On The Stairs
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Sub/dom, Kink. Dirty talk. Dirty sex. Dirty boy. (Good boy.)
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: The lovely t_amara
On The Stairs
Grimes’ asshole tightened around McKnight’s thumb. Fuck, yes, he knew what to do. He knew what was expected of him and he knew what would give McKnight the most satisfaction, and he thanked God that he’d been able to convince Linda that Roz had probably been mildly traumatized by McKnight’s assault on her tonsils and needed Linda right away.
After all, Grimes was well versed in the after effects of McKnight’s intense kisses. Roz probably shouldn’t have been left alone after that. In fact, letting her drive home probably wasn’t the wisest move.
He was supposed to be jealous. He knew that. He knew the normal response would have been to get upset with McKnight for pawing at his sister’s girlfriend and grabbing her ass. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t.
To start with, jealously would have been stupid when Grimes knew it had been for show.
The degree of horniness had been unexpected though. It had to have something to do with the size difference, with McKnight looming over Roz like that. She made him look even taller and bigger and more commanding, and that made Grimes want to be commanded. Desperately want to be commanded. And the way McKnight’s hands had moved, so confident and sure of themselves, had made Grimes want those hands on his body, his ass, his skin.
But most of all, he imagined that’s how it might look when McKnight kissed him that way, and Grimes could almost picture McKnight, from a distance, holding Grimes up and plundering his mouth and rendering Grimes helpless, just like he’d done to Roz.
McKnight slid his other hand across Grimes’ ass and slid the other thumb in.
“Oh, god, sir. Request permission to jerk off, sir.”
McKnight bent both thumbs and Grimes was spread open. Helpless.
“Granted.”
Grimes had to lean to one side, put his weight on his left hand so he could put his right hand on his cock. McKnight was deciding, Grimes could tell, if he should go fast or slow. Fast meant more immediate satisfaction, but it was so good to be under McKnight like this, so horny he was babbling incoherently, tugging on his cock and riding up to the crest of release but not quite reaching it. It was something almost as satisfying as an orgasm.
McKnight pushed his thumbs in farther and wriggled them both.
The only thing more satisfying would be to follow a direct order.
“Good boy,” McKnight growled. “Come.”
“I… I… I…” Neither Grimes nor McKnight ever found out what Grimes was trying to say. Grimes lurched to one side so McKnight could see the come shoot out of his cock onto the stairs. He knew McKnight liked to watch that. His asshole convulsed around McKnight’s thumbs.
It might have felt better to have McKnight’s cock in him when he came, but that would have made McKnight come as well. This way, there was more to look forward to.
Grimes stopped fisting himself and groaned. What a relief, to finally come after a whole evening of teasing.
He was sure McKnight had done everything to tease him, the whole casual air at dinner, the way he assumed that natural air of command, how he’d stayed in uniform the whole time, all those little looks, his boot against Grimes’ ankle. Every time McKnight had touched Roz, on the shoulder or the waist, Grimes had felt it.
McKnight tugged with his thumbs still deep inside Grimes. “Come on, move down a few steps. I want to see your pretty mouth clean up that mess you made.”
Grimes’ legs shook, but he managed to kneel on the bottom step. He lowered his head and McKnight loomed up over him, thumbs straining, and watched closely.
“Pretty tongue,” McKnight said hoarsely when Grimes stuck it out to lick up a drip of come from the riser.
Grimes licked his lips.
“Pretty mouth.”
Grimes pursed his lips and sucked up a little puddle.
“Steele thought you were pretty.”
Grimes’ tongue froze mid-lick.
“I think he likes your hair.”
Grimes’ hair fell across his face, hiding his eyes from McKnight, but McKnight wouldn’t have to see them to know what he was doing to Grimes.
“Said you looked a far cry from a Ranger.”
Grimes licked slowly, dragging the tip of his tongue across the come-smeared wood.
“I know better.”
McKnight rose up, behind Grimes. “I know you’re a good soldier, no matter how pretty you get.” He pulled his thumbs wide and rested his cockhead against the hole.
Grimes licked frantically. He had to get the stairs clean so McKnight would keep going. He could taste a trace of the cleaner he’d used, and there was a fine grit, as there always was on floors, no matter how much you cleaned that damn things, and his come, fresh and tangy. He was sure he’d got it all. He did a few dramatic licks of the damp wood for show.
“You follow orders and you’re efficient. Dedicated. Loyal. Tough.” The distance afforded by this recitation of the qualities of a good soldier almost made Grimes forget that McKnight’s massive cock was poised to impale him.
Almost.
“You take the initiative,” McKnight whispered, voice gone hoarse. “Not afraid to take risks.”
McKnight let the head slip in.
There was a burn, a frizzle of electricity. Grimes strained.
“You got that mess cleaned up yet?”
Grimes noticed a stray spatter and had to crane his neck to reach it.
McKnight flexed his thumbs and made Grimes’ asshole ache.
“I asked, have you followed orders, soldier?” McKnight barked, with a sharp tug and a barely-contained voice.
Grimes raised his head high, and his hair fell back over his shoulders. He shook it so the ends of his hair tickled his skin. “Yes, sir, I cleaned up my mess, sir.”
McKnight pulled one thumb out and ran his fingers up Grimes arched spine. Grimes didn’t notice any overt movement from McKnight, but his cock sank in deeper, and Grimes could sense the stutter of the stretched skin against McKnight’s thumb knuckle as it scraped past.
“Good fucking boy. So fucking good.”
Fingers tugged his hair, forced his head back further. Then they traced the jutting line of his jaw. Grimes turned his head and bit McKnight’s thumb before sucking it into his mouth, tasting the dark musk of the inside of his own body.
McKnight pressed his cock deeper. “Aw, fuck, you like being dirty, don’t you, soldier?”
Grimes played his tongue up and down the thumb and ground his ass back against McKnight.
McKnight’s weight fell over Grimes. He slid his thumb out and his cock all the way in, hunched his hips and fucked hard, muttering all the while, swearing, calling Grimes both a good boy and a dirty boy. “Jesus, fuck,” McKnight swore and Grimes tried to make himself as open and hot and perfect as he could, back arched so McKnight could get all the way inside. McKnight had been hovering over him at first, but now he was kneeling on the floor, so Grimes’ knees had to spread as wide as they could go on the first step, with McKnight between his legs, against his ass, smacking into it with every thrust, riding him to an orgasm so strong it sounded like McKnight was in pain.
“John,” McKnight groaned right before he came. “Don’t stop, John, oh, fuck, don’t ever stop.”
Grimes didn’t know what he wasn’t supposed to stop, so he planned to keep on doing everything he’d ever done.
Two more days and they would move home. They wouldn’t have to wait for Linda to be out, or worry about someone barging in.
Grimes had thought he would have to wait that long for something like this. It was worth having Steele staring at him, accusing him, almost frightening him, all through dinner, just to get this time alone. Worth having to watch McKnight do all those things to Roz that Grimes wanted McKnight to do to him.
He hadn’t been worried. He didn’t have to worry. Roz might let McKnight kiss her in public, but she would never let McKnight do this to her. Grimes put his head down on his forearms and shuddered, letting McKnight’s cock slip from his ass wetly.
McKnight pressed the side of his face between Grimes’ sweaty shoulder blades. “Ah, John, so fucking good.” The teeth scraping over his back burned. “So good.” The tongue should have been soothing, but it enflamed the bite. It was as if McKnight wanted to eat him up. “Mine, John. Only one. Ever.”
Grimes un-arched his back and melded himself to the front of McKnight’s torso. McKnight had one hand on the stairs, keeping himself from crushing Grimes, so he could wrap the other arm around Grimes chest. His breath slowed, and he kissed the bite mark softly.
McKnight fell to the side and sprawled over the stairs. Grimes scooted between his legs and approached the opening of his pants.
“What the fuck are you doing?” McKnight rasped at him.
Grimes licked up the side of McKnight’s cock. “Cleaning up my mess, sir.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Jesus, doesn’t your tongue ever get tired?”
Nope.
Grimes tasted their combined flavors on the head of McKnight’s cock. There was nothing like the feel of it on his tongue, the feel of a cock that had just come. Swollen and hot and vulnerable.
“Can’t,” McKnight said, tugging at Grimes hair, guiding him away from his cock. “I can’t. You’re going to give me a fucking heart attack.”
Grimes grinned up at his commanding officer. “Surely not, sir. You’re fit and ready for action.”
“Right now I’m ready for fucking bed,” McKnight groaned.
Grimes thought that was a great idea. In bed, with both of them naked, he could lick all of McKnight clean. He put his hands on either side of McKnight’s hips and lifted himself up over McKnight’s body. “Whatever you say, sir.” He rubbed his cheek briefly over the insignia on McKnight’s uniform before sliding to the side to sit beside McKnight for a second. To catch his breath.
McKnight groaned and sat upright. “On the stairs. Oh, god. Don’t forget to pick up your clothes. Linda will kill me if she finds out we’ve been fucking on the stairs.”
Grimes scooped up the jeans and t-shirt. She wouldn’t kill him, but she’d be upset. It was highly improper. That wasn’t something that had ever stopped the two of them before, though. But since the incident with the coffee in the kitchen they’d made an effort to be more discreet.
“You go upstairs first.”
Grimes nodded. McKnight wanted to watch him. His ass, really. That was okay. It felt great to be able to be so casual about being naked in front of someone. Grimes had lost all his nervousness about it. Naked in the dark, in the light, in bed, in the hallway, outside, walking up the stairs while McKnight stared at his ass – it was great.
Except he was smeared with come and really should clean up before they went to bed. He thought about wiping himself with his t-shirt, but he would still need to be cleaned more, so he just went up the stairs as he was, figuring he could go straight to the bathroom before McKnight even noticed.
McKnight slammed the door behind them and pushed Grimes toward the bed.
“Hands and knees, on the mattress. I saw another mess that needs to be cleaned up.”
Grimes turned to look at McKnight, and McKnight licked his lips.
“I don’t think so, sir,” Grimes said quietly. He was okay the equality thing. He thoroughly enjoyed some aspects of it. But this was taking it too far.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll clean up, sir.”
“Why? It’s my mess.”
“No, sir, it’s mine and I’ll clean it.”
All the sex messes were Grimes’. It was his job to do the clean up. It had always been his job. If McKnight wanted to lick up Grimes’ come off his belly that was okay, because it was part of the sex. But once the sex was over, even if it was only a break between rounds, it should be Grimes’ responsibility.
“Are you denying me?”
Grimes supposed he was. “I guess. It’s just, I’m not really comfortable with the idea, sir.”
“Comfortable?” McKnight asked. “I just fucked you raw on the stairs. Was that comfortable?”
“I don’t mean physically comfortable, sir. I mean… uh…” What the hell did he mean?
McKnight was in commanding officer mode. He was still in uniform, with his spent cock hanging obscenely out of his open fly. He had a hard look on his face, the look of a man not used to having his orders disobeyed. And he was looming. Fuck. When McKnight loomed it was scary. Not in threatening way. Grimes wasn’t worried McKnight would hit him or anything. But when McKnight loomed, it was usually because he wanted to take.
Normally that wasn’t a problem, since Grimes was more than happy to be taken from under the usual circumstances. But this…
Grimes would have to assert himself somehow. And that wasn’t going to happen if he was being a good boy, so he would have to pull rank.
He stood up straight. “I’m sorry, Danny. It would be too much for me.”
McKnight’s shoulders sagged. Sometimes it was too easy to defeat him; Grimes felt a bit guilty about that.
“I really like your mouth on me. But only when I’m clean. I can’t… it would be too much.”
McKnight stared at him for a few seconds. Puzzled. Like he couldn’t understand the concept of Grimes being the obedient good boy, willing to be dirty to please his commanding officer, and McKnight being on top and therefore not getting dirty unless it was absolutely necessary. Chain of command and all that. Proper place, proper roles.
Then McKnight stood tall again. “Okay. I can understand that.”
Really?
“What are you waiting for? You know where the bathroom is. Get clean so you can get on your hands and knees.”
Grimes nearly saluted. Great. McKnight was willing to spare Grimes the discomfort of being cleaned by his commanding officer, and he still wanted to rim him. Fucking excellent compromise. “Yes, sir.” He headed for the bathroom and was shocked when McKnight bumped into him in the doorway.
“Sir?”
“I want to watch.”
“Watch what?”
“Watch you clean yourself.”
Oh. Well. Grimes had already refused one order. He couldn’t very well refuse another. He would have to put on a show. Make it worth McKnight’s while. He backed toward the bathtub slowly.
McKnight’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. He didn’t want to watch at all; he wanted to do.
Grimes thought that was an even more perfect compromise.
“No,” he said.
“No?” McKnight repeated. Stunned.
“No. I’m not comfortable with you watching. I think you should clean me.”
McKnight was on him so fast Grimes had to laugh. It was better than great – being pushed into the tub, on his knees, head down, the warm water running over his feet until McKnight was sure the temperature was just right, being pushed back so the water ran over his ass, shower-gelled fingers and sudsy palms and McKnight calling him good boy and dirty boy again. Fuck, yes. This tub was awkward, but in two days they’d be back home with the good tub and this could become a regular routine.
McKnight took off his uniform and turned on the shower and climbed in and Grimes soaped him up and rubbed their lathered chests together and then McKnight put his hands on either side of Grimes’ face and held him still.
“John, the thing on the stairs…”
Which thing on the stairs? There had been a lot of things on the stairs.
“And just now… John, promise you’ll never let me do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Physically?”
McKnight grinned. “No, not physically. I know you like a certain amount of… physical discomfort.”
Grimes thought about the ache in his knees. The stairs were hard. Unforgiving. But his knees would be fine in a day or two. The pleasure was well worth a little discomfort.
“You have to promise you’ll never let me hurt you.”
Grimes squirmed. “Sir, I’m not sure what you mean.”
McKnight shook his head.
“Danny,” Grimes corrected himself.
McKnight tilted his head forward and kissed Grimes on the chin. “Promise you’ll never blindly obey me.”
Oh. That. Grimes pressed his whole body against McKnight. “Never. I’ll obey your orders to the best of my ability, but I’ll never let you take advantage. I promise.”
Grimes was taking on a hell of a responsibility there. And he knew it. But McKnight wouldn’t feel free to really command unless he knew Grimes was fully in charge.
Fuck. Grimes really loved this whole situation. Everything about it. The way it made him feel. The way McKnight felt against him, so warm and solid and overwhelming. How they fit together so well.
He put his hands on McKnight’s wrists and moved them up, so McKnight’s fingers tangled in his wet hair. McKnight massaged his scalp and made a rumbling sound.
“Will you keep your hair long?”
Grimes nodded. “If you like it.”
McKnight laughed. “Like it?” he said, and he rubbed one hand down to Grimes’ cheek. “And will you grow your beard back some time?”
“If you want me to.”
McKnight rubbed his scratchy face over the smooth skin. “Want. Oh, John, you can’t even imagine how much you make me want.” McKnight’s tongue was so soft compared to his chin. He licked down Grimes’ jaw and across his chin. “But I like this too,” he whispered. “So pretty.”
Pretty. That was such a weird concept. But then, compared to McKnight, maybe Grimes was a bit…
“I don’t want to be girly,” Grimes blurted out suddenly.
McKnight laughed again. “Girly? Never. You couldn’t be. But you can be pretty, can’t you?” McKnight sounded hopeful.
Pretty. That was so… made Grimes feel so… but it made McKnight hard. It made his voice shake, when he called Grimes pretty. Most often, he called Grimes’ tongue pretty. Or his mouth. When his tongue and his mouth were doing dirty things. Pretty made McKnight think of dirty, and dirty made McKnight want to possess Grimes.
“Sure, I can be pretty,” Grimes agreed. “But how about I be pretty out of the shower?”
Yeah, the bed was much better. Especially after McKnight took such care drying Grimes all over and brushing out his hair and licking his face all over. Grimes sat on the edge of the bed with his head tilted back and his eyes closed and let McKnight do whatever he wanted. Possessive hands combed through his half dried hair. Forceful mouth devoured his.
“I’m selfish,” McKnight whispered against his hair. “I want you all to myself. And I want you all the time.”
Grimes didn’t move.
“And I want to make love to you, but I don’t want you to call me sir for the rest of the night.”
Grimes opened his eyes.
That might be a difficult order to follow. Sir came so naturally to his lips. And it felt so good to say it. But for McKnight, he would try anything.
“Yes, Danny. Make love to me.”
Of course, he wouldn’t just make love. He would devour. He would fuck. He would command. That was his nature. And Grimes would submit and suck and obey, because that was his nature.
Without the sir, it would almost be like role playing. Grimes could role play.
McKnight pushed Grimes across the bed on his stomach and traced the lines of his back with his fingers. Grimes bit his lip to keep from saying please sir. Big, meaty hands kneaded his muscles and squeezed his ass, spread his legs, lifted his hips. The tongue was expected, so Grimes didn’t squeal when it lapped at the top of his crack, he merely sighed and let his thighs shift more naturally into the embrace of McKnight’s arms.
A year ago, he would never, in a million years, have imagined McKnight going at his ass like this. Now it wasn’t even awkward. It felt right.
He was still open from being fucked, and under McKnight’s tongue he opened even more. He was a bit raw, as McKnight had put it, but the silk of the tongue and the slip of the saliva soothed him.
And it didn’t take long for him to start moaning for more. So sluttish, he thought. McKnight always made him want to spread. Spread and be filled over and over. He wanted tongue, but he wanted more. Eight inches of tongue might do the trick, but cock would certainly suffice. For now, McKnight’s lips were pressed against his asshole and his tongue pushed inside, stabbing and thrusting. McKnight showed no sign of stopping. He fumbled until he got Grimes’ hard cock in his hand and then he stroked it in time with the movement of his tongue.
Grimes couldn’t breathe. Without breath he couldn’t talk. Without talk, he couldn’t beg. And he still couldn’t breathe.
He wriggled away from McKnight’s mouth.
McKnight was kneeling on the bed, panting with his tongue hanging out. “What’s wrong?” he gasped.
Grimes gulped air into his lungs. “I couldn’t breathe,” he said.
“Neither could I,” McKnight admitted.
Fuck. Without the structure of sir they were going to suffocate themselves.
“What do you want?” McKnight asked.
Grimes opened his mouth to answer but McKnight put his hand over it. “Don’t say you want whatever I want.”
Damn.
“Take whatever time you need to think about it.”
Grimes didn’t want to think. He wanted to spread. So he took the time in which he was supposed to be thinking about what he wanted to really look at McKnight.
Eyes burning. Such intense eyes. Grimes loved them. Mouth still a bit slack. Resting from the rimming, Grimes supposed. It would taste like Grimes. Soap and Grimes. Couldn’t think about that. It would make him want more, and McKnight didn’t have any more tongue to give. Plus, there was the breathing issue.
McKnight’s body, so thick and hard and beefy, all that strength, was waiting to push against Grimes, push into Grimes, push Grimes to the edge. McKnight was leaning toward Grimes like a runner at the starting blocks, but he wouldn’t rush forward until Grimes said the word. He had his hands on his thighs, gripping tightly, and his cock, oh, fuck, his cock was full and heavy, so heavy. The word ponderous popped into Grimes’ head. McKnight’s cock was ponderous, like this great, big, unwieldy thing between them, demanding to be satisfied at the same time it was in the way. Except Grimes wanted it in the way, because it was such a potent sign of how much McKnight always wanted him, wanted to take him.
That was it.
“Take me,” Grimes said.
“Take you?”
Grimes nodded.
He could have asked for anything. He could have asked for McKnight to slowly kiss him all over and make him feel cherished and loved. McKnight would have done it. Happily. Grimes knew that.
Grimes could have asked for something indescribably kinky and perverted. He could have said, “Tie me to the bed and make me suck your cock”, which would have been fun. McKnight would have worried about how tight the bonds were and made sure they didn’t damage Grimes skin, but he would have done it.
Grimes could have said, “Jerk off on my face and show me who’s boss”, and McKnight would have been very careful not to shoot in Grimes’ eye, but he would have done it.
Grimes could have said, “I want to kneel in the bathtub and have you piss all over me”, and McKnight would have protested at first, but once Grimes licked his cock a bit and knelt in the tub, he would have pissed on him, again careful not to sting his eyes, and Grimes didn’t know if that would be fun or not but just the thought of it gave his skin a tingling sensation.
He could have gone in the completely other direction and said, “Just hold me all night long”, and McKnight’s cock wouldn’t have liked it but McKnight would have held Grimes and kissed his hair and whispered “I love you” and willed himself to go soft so Grimes would be comfortable, and it would have been wonderful.
But that’s not what Grimes wanted.
“Danny, I want you to take me. Now.”
So take he did. No orders were given, and none were obeyed.
McKnight covered Grimes with his body, head to toe, and kissed him so thoroughly Grimes melted into the mattress. He fisted Grimes’ hair and sucked the skin of his throat and let their bodies slide against each other. He bit Grimes’ lower lip, and kissed it, and bit it again. He spread the lube over both their cocks and held them together tightly, jerking steadily until the moan rose in Grimes throat, and then he slid his fingers between Grimes’ thighs and pressed one inside, carefully, as if he hadn’t already had his fingers and thumb and cock and lube and soap and tongue inside there.
“I want you ready for me,” he whispered in Grimes’ ear, flicking his tongue around the curves.
Grimes wanted McKnight to fuck his ear with his tongue until he it made him come.
“I want you ready because when I fuck you, you’re going to feel it.”
McKnight growled a growl that vibrated all over Grimes’ body.
“I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to be filled with me.”
Filled, yes, that’s what Grimes wanted. Filled.
“I’m going to make you feel me inside and out.”
And around and over and under and beneath and above and for and from and because of.
McKnight moved slowly, deliberately, on top of Grimes. He spread Grimes’ thighs wide, and pushed his cock so it rested at the entrance to Grimes’ body.
Grimes couldn’t move his arms. He’d forgotten he even owned arms. He knew he owned legs, because they were being spread out so wide, and McKnight’s hips were brushing against the insides of them. McKnight’s face was right above his, they were nose to nose, and McKnight’s lips brushed over his softly.
“I’m taking you because you’re mine,” McKnight said.
And pushed up into Grimes. No hands required. His cock knew the way.
Grimes said, “And I’m taking you,” he lifted his legs and hooked his ankles behind McKnight’s back, “because you’re mine.”
Deep and slow, with McKnight’s mouth on his mouth, or on his ear, or his cheek, and McKnight’s hands on his skin. Bodies pressed together, McKnight rose up on his knees and lifted Grimes into his lap. Knees bent so the two of them were curling into each other, a tight ball no one could ever unravel, barely enough room between them for McKnight’s hand to curl around Grimes’ cock. They surged together steadily and Grimes felt it build build build inside him.
So this was making love.
It wasn’t all that different from fucking.
The movement of the fingers on his cock grew erratic. McKnight began to shake and moan.
“Oh, faster,” Grimes urged. Just a little faster…
McKnight obliged and Grimes tightened his grip of his legs around McKnight’s waist.
“Yeah,” Grimes said, “faster.”
“Fuck!” McKnight grunted. So very close, with the tension in his voice that could only mean one thing, because the only time it ever got that tight was when he was ready to burst.
And then it just slipped out. How could Grimes stop it? It was right at the moment he came. Right at the moment of that delicious, irresistible tightening of his balls and his cock and his heart. His mouth opened, and it came out.
“Oh, sir!”
McKnight hesitated. Shuddered.
And pushed in one last time with a groan.
“Good boy,” he gasped.
So it was okay. They had both made the same mistake.
The stain, if that’s what you could call it, was faint but unmistakable. Flaky, whitish, a line that curved out in both directions at the top, and was smeared at the bottom. On the bottom tread of the stairs. Gleaming dully in the early morning sunlight.
“I presume,” Linda McKnight said dryly, “that is a reasonable facsimile of the crack of John’s ass.”
“Shh, you’ll wake him.”
Linda folded her arms across her chest.
“I’ll… I’ll clean it up,” McKnight said quietly. “It’s my mess.”
“No, let John clean it. Maybe it’ll teach him to stop seducing you in semi-public places.”
Shit. It wasn’t Grimes’ fault McKnight was so easy to seduce. “No, really, I’ll do it. He’ll be embarrassed if he knows you—”
“And you aren’t?”
Embarrassed? McKnight thought about it.
No. Actually, he wasn’t. He was more… satisfied. Maybe a little smug.
“Really, Danny. On the stairs! If nothing else, could you think of his knees?”
His knees. What about McKnight’s knees?
“I know you think he’s perfect, Danny, but he’s still recovering. Someone has to watch out for his health. If you’re not going to take proper care of him, maybe he shouldn’t move back to the cottage—”
McKnight grabbed her arm. “Linda, you might be my older sister, and you’ve been more than generous and tolerant, but you’re not running my life. John and I are moving back to the cottage on the weekend, and that’s final. I promise I’ll get him to bed by ten o’clock every night.”
“It’s not when you get him to bed that counts, Danny. It’s when he gets to sleep.”
“Linda, do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t care? Jesus, he’s my lover, not yours. And I’m gonna make sure he’s okay.”
Grimes tugged the blanket up over his shoulder and nestled into the pillow. He smiled to himself and ran those last two sentences through his head over and over.
In two days, they were going home.
Continued in: 35 Home Sweet...
Back to: Soldier Porn
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