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Authors: Renae Kaye

The Shearing Gun (25 page)

BOOK: The Shearing Gun
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“Don’t stress it, Hank. You didn’t know they were coming. Just send me a couple of texts tonight, will you?”

“Of course. Dirty ones?”

That earned me a saucy grin. “Definitely.”

“Sorry about Jimmie. If I’d known they were coming, I would’ve warned you.”

“It’s cool. I just didn’t expect Jimmie was from money like that. Your uncle seems so salt-of-the-earth; so they’re polar opposites.”

“Jimmie? From money? I don’t think so, Quackle.”

His expression was definitely condescending when he said, “Hank, mate, that bracelet cost over ten grand. Probably closer to fifteen. I know because I bought a similar one last Christmas. No one spends ten grand on a bracelet unless they know that they won’t miss the money when it comes to paying the mortgage next month.”

Fifteen grand?

I would get to that one later. For now there was another question in the forefront of my mind. “How did you know to ask about the bracelet?”

Elliot gave me a “you are being stupid” look. I got that a lot from him. “Hank, buddy. I haven’t lived my life in the closet. I had a very active social life at university and I’ve met enough queenish guys to know what they like to talk about. After all, you’re looking at a guy who wore two very small pieces of clothing while dancing in the pride parade.”

“Yeah?”

He grinned. “And those tiny white shorts were definitely wedgie givers.”

I almost drooled at the thought. “You said two pieces of clothing, so what else did you wear?”

He started the car and put it in drive. “A cowboy hat.”

Then the bastard drove off and left me to deal with a wooden pecker in front of my two gay uncles who didn’t know I was banging the local doctor.

Uncle Murray was busy unpacking the car, and Jimmie was taking over my bedroom. I went to grab some clothes out of my room for my banishment to my single spare bed and found Jimmie staring at something in the middle of my bed—the brand-new pack of condoms that Elliot had bought and thrown on the bedspread. The extra-large pack of fifty—for extrahorny people.

The temperature in the bedroom seemed to spike as Jimmie and I stared at each other.

“Jimmie….” I cleared my throat and didn’t know what to say.

“So I guess you’ve found a friend, have you?” Jimmie’s face was full of curiosity but also excitement.

“Look—no one knows, so don’t even hint at it. I can’t tell you who or even introduce you.” I was backpedaling desperately, trying to cover our tracks. I don’t think I was successful.

“Just tell me this—is this special someone the same person who desperately needed my super-secret honey-biscuit recipe in such a hurry?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I would’ve been upset if you had used it on just anyone.”

I tucked the box away in the
back
of the drawer and threw some things over it so Murray wouldn’t find it. Then a terrible thought occurred to me. “Jimmie? You know I love you, don’t you?”

Jimmie frowned at this line of questioning but answered me readily. “Of course.”

“And you know that I totally accept you and know that you and Uncle Murray are madly in love, right?”

“Ri-ight.” Jimmie drew the response out to two syllables, completely lost on my meaning or where I was going with the conversation.

I faced him head on and tried not to grin. “So don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

“Oo-kaay.”

“Please don’t have sex in my bed.” I saw Jimmie’s face drop in disbelief, or was that horror? “I mean, you two are like my parents, and I logically know that you must, but I really don’t want to sleep in the same place every night knowing that you two have done the dirty in that exact spot.”

“What?” Jimmie’s face was one of outrage.

“Look—I’m not saying abstain for your holiday, just make sure it’s not here. There are plenty of other places on my property that are hidden from the road, that work fine. And of course I’m going to be away shearing for a lot of the days, so you’ll have plenty of opportunity. Just don’t ruin my bed for me, okay?”

Jimmie laughed hilariously at my prudish attitude. “Okay. But one day Hank, you’re going to have to tell me
how
you know about all these places on the property. I have a feeling my favorite nephew has been indulging in some outdoor activities that are not in
The Boy Scout Handbook
.”

Of course my blush gave me away.

It was great to have them visit, and I don’t just mean for the free cooking that Jimmie gave me and the extra hand around the place from Uncle Murray. They were my family, and I’d missed them. The only problem was—I missed Elliot more.

I lasted three days before I took one look at Murray and Jimmie canoodling on my couch, and declared I was going out.

“Out?” Murray questioned. “Where the hell would you be going out to at seven o’clock on a Thursday night?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe late-night shopping in town?”

“There’s no freakin’ late ni—” Jimmie whacked him in the stomach and gave him a look. Murray scowled at Jimmie in his arms, then his eyes widened, and he looked up at me with dawning comprehension. “Oh! Oh, shit. Fuck, I didn’t know.”

“Nothing to know,” I said blithely, trying to keep up the ruse. “I’m just going for a drive.”

Jimmie beamed at me. “Okay. Have fun on the drive. Remember to wear your seatbelt.”

I stifled my mirth. “I always do.”

“Unless—” Jimmie sat up in alarm. “Do you need some seatbelts out of the drawer?”

Uncle Murray was perplexed, but I knew the cat was out of the bag now. “No. The drive has his own.”

Jimmie giggled and snuggled back down, and I tried not to think that maybe I should’ve declared all the furniture in my house as no-go zones for sex too.

At the end of my driveway, I stopped and sent a text to Elliot.
I have an emergency. Are you out on call?

It was rather mean of me to worry him like that, but I was frustrated and chomping at the bit. I had no time to consider his feelings. I was already driving when my phone rang and I answered on speakerphone. The concern in Elliot’s voice was apparent.

“Hank? It’s Elliot. Are you okay? What’s up?”

“Oh, Doc. I have a big problem. I’m on my way to your house right now so you can take care of it.”

There was relief as well as humor in his chuckle. “Oh, yeah? Just what is this problem?”

“Well, Doc. It’s big and long and hard, and sticking straight out from my body.”

“Hmm. It sounds serious. A broken bone, perhaps? Does it hurt?”

“Oh, yes. It hurts bad, Doc. Do you think you can give me something for it?”

“If it’s a broken bone, I may need to immobilize it. If it’s a growth, I may need to cut it out. But if it’s what I suspect, I think I have just the thing here at my house. How soon can you get here?”

“Twenty-five minutes? Will this
thing
be ready and waiting for me?”

“Definitely. I’ll leave the back door open.”

The Doc lived conveniently on Love Street, not too far from the primary school. I parked at the far end of the school’s car park, under some trees, then quickly strode down the footpath, avoiding the streetlights on the right-hand side of the road. The street was quiet as I ducked into the front yard of Elliot’s rental place, slunk around the back, and entered through the sliding door. I locked it behind me, toed off my boots, and had my shirt and jeans undone by the time I found Elliot in the bedroom. He was naked on the bed, his dick hard, and his legs spread as he plunged his own fingers into his hole.

“Fuck.” The word was whispered in the darkness, and I thought it came from me, but I couldn’t be sure. He gave me a welcoming smile and held his hand out for me to join him. Then I realized that hand held a condom for my use. My clothes hit the floor, but I didn’t have time for my socks, so they stayed put. That condom was more important. I had a channel urgently waiting for my loving.

That initial penetration, without so much as a fleeting attempt at foreplay, or even a goddamn hello, was so delicious that I struggled not to come immediately. From the noises that Elliot was making, he was in the same boat.

“Oh, thank you, Jesus.”

If Elliot thought that it was Jesus between his thighs, then he had a holy epiphany about to happen. I slammed into him and watched in awe as he took it. The look of rapture on his face slowed my orgasm. I realized that I wanted to watch him take that leap over the edge. Most of the time, I was too caught up in the moment myself to watch him come. That, or my mouth and eyes were otherwise occupied.

How I pulled myself back from the edge of ejaculation, I don’t really know. But my movements became slow and deliberate as I became more interested in Elliot’s pleasure than my own. I pulled him up, curving his spine, and pumped in a couple of times.

“Oh, yes!” he cried.

It felt great, but I was aiming for stupendous. I tried leaning forward and licking his nipples as I pistoned into him.

“Fuck, yes. Oh, bite me there, Hank!”

Hmm, I made a mental note to ask about the biting thing. He really had some sort of fetish about his nipples.

Not that I was complaining. I would never complain about something like that.

I knew that his prostate was at the front of his channel so I tried one last time. I spread my legs and got as close to the mattress as possible, aiming upward.

“Ugh!”

Yep, found it! If Doc Elliot couldn’t articulate a fully formed word, then I was exactly where I needed to be. I glided in easily and aimed high. My hips screamed at me to go faster, but I steadied the pace so I could rest on one hand while I reached for Elliot’s shaft with the other.

“Ahh!” he cried as the double sensation hit him.

I pumped in counterpoint to my thrusts. “Come on, Quackle. I wanna see you shoot.”

He closed his eyes and did as I asked, jetting up between our bodies and squeezing me tightly with his ankles as his arse milked my cock. I paused, allowing the sensations to flow over me, and giving Elliot time to recover before I found my own pleasure.

I expected him to go limp and allow me time to find my climax. What I didn’t expect was for him to heave under me, pushing me off him and onto my back. In alarm I pulled back and rolled over for him. “What’s wrong?”

He had an almost feral look in his eyes as he climbed on top of my body and growled, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong. You’re here now, so everything’s right.”

I knew what he meant. It was if I were missing my left thumb in the past few days without him. He reached back and steadied my cock while squatting over me. Then he easily slid down my shaft, and I swear, my eyeballs rolled a complete orbit in my head. I placed my hands under his thighs to steady him, but allowed him to lead and thrust himself down on my body in whatever rhythm suited him. He leaned back, placed his hands on my legs for support, and upped the speed. It provided me with an excellent view, thank you very much.

All too soon my climax, which I had been holding off all night, was upon me. “Ell!” I yelled and jerked upward as I came. His fingers dug into my legs as he struggled to hold on from the force of my thrusts. My eyes completed several more rotations in my head before I collapsed. I was done for, and hardly noticed as Elliot helped me out by pulling the used condom off and covering me with a sheet.

I did, however, notice him join me on the bed. I immediately wrapped my arms around his shoulders as I pulled his willing body to me. He laid his head on my chest, entwining one leg with mine under the covers as his left hand sought my nipple to fondle and play with.

It was like coming home.

“I’ve missed this,” I admitted in the quiet. It sounded stupid. It had been a whole four days since we’d last had sex. Maybe I’d missed it because it had somehow transformed from simply sex—I really felt like it was making love when we came together.

“I’ve missed you too, Hank,” he quietly replied. “I can’t sleep if you’re not with me. I don’t like how quickly I’ve come to need you.”

I felt exactly the same. I patted the tight curls on his head, then stroked the warm skin of his back. “I’m here now, Quackle. Go to sleep. Get some rest, and we’ll work it all out later.”

He quickly dropped off, which concerned me. He was telling the truth about not sleeping, and that was not a good thing for a doctor. Plus he was driving twice a week to neighboring towns to do clinic hours. He was on the road early morning and late evening. I worried that he could have an accident—and who would attend the scene then? Who doctored the doctor?

I didn’t like the feeling of need that I felt for Elliot either. It scared the bejesus out of me. I was the fisherman, but now I was hooked. I’d taken the bait—meaning only to have a nibble—but now I was stuck firmly. And where did it leave me when Elliot left?

I’d never allowed myself to be vulnerable before, and it sucked. I listened to Elliot’s soft snores and gathered him in even closer.

In the darkness, I whispered to the room what I hadn’t had the guts to admit to myself until then.

“I think I love you, Quackle.”

Chapter 21

 

J
IMMIE
CORNERED
me while Uncle Murray was in the shower.

BOOK: The Shearing Gun
2.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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