Long Time Gone (Hell or High Water ) by SE Jakes Read Free Book Online Page B

questions and fuck, that could mean so many damned things.
    Too many to give a shit about parsing, and in the wet, hot darkness, Prophet’s mouth found Tommy’s instead.
    They both groaned into that first kiss. Four months and more of longing released in a frantic rush that started out fast and rolled into something more, faster than the gathering storm and threatening to do far more damage.
    And Prophet didn’t give a damn, wasn’t able to stop himself from rutting against Tom, the friction of the fabric between them and Tommy’s hardness sending shockwaves through his system.
    And he was finally alive again. Holding onto his lifeline in the flesh, knowing that it had almost been too late. If he hadn’t read those emails . . . Another day, another hour and he would’ve been buried so far underground he would never have seen daylight again.
    He brushed that thought away for what was real right now—Tom’s hands in his hair, keeping him close. Tom’s thighs spread for him, heavy boots landing on his ass and locking around his lower back so the heels dug in, spurring him to rut harder. Tom, holding him in place from that submissive position. And Prophet was fucking Tom’s mouth with his tongue, the way he wanted to fuck Tom. The way he wanted Tommy to fuck him. Tom was matching him kiss for kiss as they alternated between wet and messy, ferocious to lingering, lip-biting to tongue-sucking.
    Everything else fell away but Tom. The wet, stinging downpour, the wind, the mud . . . the danger, all were merely physical barriers to overcome. The easy shit.
    The fact that Tom was in his arms again meant they’d already dug into the hard shit.
    He pulled back from the kissing to bite Tom’s neck. Tom hissed, bucked his pelvis up, and a low shudder ran through Prophet. And then he made the mistake of opening his eyes and realized he couldn’t see. The electricity had cut out, and it was too damned dark.
    He could still feel Tom under him, but that wasn’t enough. He started to count to thirty, because that’s when the generator would kick on. Panic shook him harder than lust, panic leftover from earlier, Then Tom’s hand slid into his pants, along his bare ass, trailing a finger between his cheeks and pressing against the tightened muscles of his hole.
    “Mine,” Tom growled against his ear and Prophet whimpered—fucking whimpered —as Tom kept his finger in place, more pressure than an attempt to gain entrance. He had to know Prophet was too goddamned tense for that, but that started to bleed away when Tom said, “Mine,” again.
    “Yeah. Yours,” he agreed, blinked against the rain, seeing shadows as his eyesight adjusted, and just let himself feel Tom’s hands anchoring him.
    It didn’t matter what happened in the morning, in an hour . . . even in ten minutes. It mattered that Tom was going to make him come in his pants, especially when Tom’s finger pushed inside of him and the lights flickered back on.
    “Proph,” Tom moaned as Prophet dug in and writhed with zero control. Tommy gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling Prophet into him. Prophet buried his face against Tommy’s neck and knew what Tommy’s face would look like—almost angry that Prophet had gotten to him so easily.
    God, he wanted to see that.
    And you can.
    He lifted his head and smiled. The wind swirled around them as thunder rumbled overhead. Branches creaked, houses screamed against their foundations, and rutting like animals in the mud with Tommy was the hottest thing Prophet could remember. Nothing else mattered, because nature’s wrath couldn’t compare to this.
    As their frenzy grew, so did the storm, as if the hurricane built off their furious energy. Prophet would never look at a hurricane the same way again.
    And then it was all touch and feelings and tongue and teeth, and then cum spilling inside his pants. His entire body tightened as the orgasm rode him like a bitch, refusing to let go until it wrung every last bit of fight