Between the Bars Pt. 03

"Is this a cop thing? Fucking someone with a flashlight?" I gasped with a combination of lust and amusement.

"I left my nightstick at home." A grin flashed over his face and then his fingers slipped inside me and we both moaned. Then the flashlight pressed into me and I relaxed, rubbing my cock against the pillow to help turn the pain into pleasure. Eventually, Daniel's harsh voice penetrated my fog. "Yeah, it's a cop thing... you're under arrest and you can't get away... too bad my partner's not here so you could suck his cock."

I realized what he was doing and the world abruptly shifted off-kilter, I couldn't feel my legs and arms, his voice was a lifeline holding me to the earth or I would've just fallen off as the fantasy overtook me. Instinctively, I pulled myself to my knees and my chest fell to the bed, my arms over my head, my ass in the air as the flashlight went past my resistance, stretching me, spreading me so wide and he was talking but I couldn't hear his words through the rushing in my ears. I couldn't get away, could almost feel something wrapped around my wrists holding them down, and the relentless thrust in my ass, Daniel's palm flat between my shoulder blades pressing me into the bed.

"Fuck yes baby... you're mine, you're my slut..."

The words caught my ear and instead of shame, I was proud but it was all so confusing and I didn't want to think. I moaned into the mattress; Daniel's hand moved down my hip and around, encircling my slippery oiled cock in a firm grip that felt so good, I almost lost it. Then he shifted, changing the angle of the object in my ass; it was stroking my prostate now hitting it repeatedly. My knees went weak and I fell face first into the bed, bucking back against the orgasm that blossomed deep inside me and spread out, blazing through me all the way to my fingers and toes in waves that left me wrung out, gasping and trembling with the aftershocks as if I'd been pulled under and spit out on the shore.

"Fuck. God."

That was probably my voice. I didn't know anymore. There was a puddle of creamy wetness under me, but I didn't care. I lay there until Daniel's hands rolled me to my back. His warm body drowned me and he fucked my mouth with his tongue as he thrust his hips against me, his steel-hard cock trapped between us. It was the closest we could get to fucking. It reminded me of high school and made me feel giddy and innocent again, just for a moment. My hands were on his head, petting the soft stubble, making him shudder violently and then he moaned into my mouth, crushing me in his grip. I felt his cock surge; he stiffened and let out a cry and then shot, flooding us both with his rivers of cum that slid and squelched between our slippery bellies.

"Uhhh," he mumbled as he collapsed on me. He was heavy but I loved his full weight; I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into me, wrapping my legs around his. I felt his heart beat against my chest, heavy but not racing alarmingly. His breath was harsh and uneven against my ear and then slowly evened out, until finally he lifted his head and looked down at me heavy-lidded.

"That was the best non-fuck ever."

"Mmm, yeah." I laughed and then gave him a shove. "Now get off me, you weigh a ton."

In our heavy post-orgasmic stupor, we eventually managed to get the bathtub filled with what hot water we could eke out of the water heater, and I leaned back against Daniel, my arms wrapped around his knees as we relaxed in the warmth of the water and the heater in the corner. After washing off the oil and spunk, we got so drowsy neither one of us wanted to move.

"Mmm." Daniel made a contented sound and rubbed my chest. "You were so hot... I knew somewhere deep down, you're a total slut."

Heat crept into my face but I grinned, tipping my head back against his shoulder. "But only for you."

"Oh yeah?" he whispered in my ear. "But it felt good to let go, didn't it?"

"Yes," I said; and it did, even though I was still a bit embarrassed when I let myself look back on all the things I did and said, and all the images racing through my brain. "It's just been a long time since I've been on my knees for anyone."

"It suits you." He laughed, which made me blush even deeper. I was beginning to not let it paralyze me, though. I relaxed into the slightly scummy water, my toes propped on the old-fashioned knobs at the end of the claw foot tub. No shower here, just a hose with a sprayer that attached to the old fixture. This was my home, and it probably should've worried me that Daniel was quickly becoming part of it, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to care. I just closed my eyes and let his goatee scratch my ear as I leaned back against his chest.

***

Chapter 14

"Ry, wake up, quick."

I came out of sleep with a jolt, my heart racing, to find Daniel shaking me urgently with his eyes wide. I sat bolt upright, startled and confused.

"What is it, what's wrong?" I demanded.

"Come look, you gotta see this!"

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me to the window while my heart pounded with alarm and my sluggish brain tried to figure out what the hell was going on. The room was quite cold. A layer of ice crusted the bottom of each windowpane and I shivered at the chill, crossing my arms over my chest, while Daniel pushed the curtains aside and pointed out the window.

"Look!"

Still bleary and confused, I looked around at the snow-covered yard, the ice-encased trees, the fields cloaked in a heavy blanket of white as far as the eye could see. I had no idea what he was pointing at.

"Look at what?" I asked blankly.

He was standing there completely naked gazing out the window with a huge smile on his face, eyes dancing like a kid at Christmas, and my words seemed to disappoint him. "The snow," he said, slightly crestfallen. "It's just... I've never seen this much, you know? Only in pictures."

"Oh, right." I eyed it up where it mounded against the tree out front. "It's about seven inches. That's a lot in one night."

"Can we go out in it?"

The last thing I wanted to do was trudge around in snow halfway to my knees and get cold and wet before I'd even had my coffee. I'd much rather pull him back under the warm blankets and wrap my lips around his shaft until it was hard and pulsing and spurting down my throat. But he looked so excited, so adorable and boyish, there was no way I could refuse him anything. I smiled resignedly as I pulled on the long underwear I'd been wearing last night before bed.

"Sure, if that's what you want."

When we went outside, bundled in coats and boots and hats from the front closet, I read fifteen degrees off the thermometer nailed to the light pole outside the back door. It was cold as fuck but Daniel didn't seem to care, he loved it. While he tried to make snow angels in the hard, ice-crusted snow, I checked out the power lines. The electricity had finally gone off last night after we'd gotten out of the bath and dressed in long johns and socks, and were curled under a quilt on the couch watching an old John Wayne movie on one of the five channels the TV could pick up from St. Louis. The candles were already lit, flickering around us, and so when the lights and the TV went off we just stayed where we were, drinking watered-down bourbon from my grandpa's stash above the fridge and talking.

"Shouldn't we get the driveway shoveled for when it's safe to leave?" Daniel called to me. His cheeks were bright with cold, blue eyes sparkling with the novelty of real snow. Even in a bulky parka, a blaze-orange hunting cap with earflaps on his head, he was so gorgeous it hurt.

"There's ice under all that snow," I pointed out with a shrug. "We won't be leaving today, and maybe not even tomorrow. So you might as well leave it and come inside where it's warm."

"What about the power? It should be back on soon, right?" Obviously, he wasn't ready to give up his winter wonderland adventure and go in the house.

"This isn't like the city," I reminded him with a smile. I pointed upward where the wires connected to the house and showed him how the weight of the ice had pulled it loose. "They don't just flip a switch. The electric company has to send a truck out, which they can't in all this ice; and I can't call them to report it because the phone is dead. I checked it while you were getting ready."

"What about your cell?"

"Daniel, I lost cell phone reception almost as soon as we crossed the bridge. The nearest cell tower is two counties over."

"Oh." He thought about that for a minute, then shrugged cheerfully. "Well, it's okay. I'm going to shovel the walks, at least. I saw the shovel on the side porch. You go in the house, you look like you're freezing."

Didn't have to tell me twice. I was in the house next to the stove in a split-second, my twinge of guilt at leaving him outside to do the work alone easily assuaged by the chill in my bones. Cold weather had never been my thing. Instead, I ran water in the teakettle and put it on top of the stove. The fire had died down to coals overnight, but I'd built it up to a blaze before we went outside and the room was getting nice and warm, at least compared to outside. The pot of water I'd put on last night was still hot, so I ladled some of it in a pot and dumped it in the bathroom sink to wash up and shave. In the linen closet, I even found a couple of toothbrushes that had never been opened; after two days, I'd never been so happy to brush my teeth.

Back in the kitchen, I dug a can of corned beef hash from the cabinet. Even though she had a perfectly good gas stove, my grandma cooked on the woodstove in the winter, and she'd taught me as well. The iron skillet I got down to fry the hash was probably as old as I was.

While the hash cooked and the coffee water heated, I stared out the window at Daniel. Last night was the first time we'd really talked. Despite everything we'd been through, we knew next to nothing about each other. We'd started out on not very friendly terms after what was supposed to be a one-night stand; and so not much information had been exchanged. He didn't even know my last name until he'd commented on the framed, signed photos of John F. and Robert Kennedy side by side on the living room wall, above a little shelf with a row of candles. That got me explaining about sharing a last name but no relation, and then talking about Catholic school and Mass and all the tedious inhibitions and guilt about sex and self-pleasure the nuns had managed to instill in us without ever directly mentioning such things.

"And forget homosexuality... our priest never, ever talked about it or said the word... in fact now that I'm older, I'm pretty sure Father Simon was gay too." I'd had a few drinks by now so I was very chatty and probably obnoxious, but Daniel was indulgent and interested in my stories. "He was never one of those priests that people whisper about though... he was a good man and when I came out as gay he was the one who talked to my grandparents about it, made them see I was still the same person I always was... it wouldn't have turned out as well without him."

"Your grandparents never suspected, then?" Daniel had asked.

"No, I don't think so, but they probably should have." I snickered. "My Gran can hear you say shit, fuck or damn from the other side of the house, but she never caught on to the sleepovers I used to have with my friend Matt. She'd have died if she knew what we were doing all night upstairs with the stereo on."

That caught Daniel's attention. He wanted to hear all the dirty details of teen sex, all the boys I blew in backseats on country roads. There hadn't been that many, mostly Matt. All my stories until college were Matt stories. He took my virginity, took everything, and I gave it willingly, until giving hurt and I had nothing left. Wild and desperate sex, three or four orgasms in an hour, unlimited sexual energy, constantly horny and dying to steal a few minutes alone so I could suck him off. Or on my knees with my school uniform khakis pushed down around my thighs and Matt's big cock sliding into me with a delicious burning pain that made me bite holes in my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Outside in the frozen whiteness, Daniel had managed to clear the sidewalk. He paused a moment and rested his arm on the handle of the shovel, swiping his forehead with his gloved hand. My cock started to get hard as I stared at him and remembered what my stories of underage sex led to last night, intense half-drunk groping and then my cock buried in Daniel's hot mouth while I jacked him slowly, sliding my fingers in and out of his tight ass. Cum for me. Cum in my face, his low and demanding growl, my cream dripping down his chin and the look in his rolled-back eyes when he shot in my hand and I smeared it all over his belly and wrote my name in it with my finger, and then slowly licked him clean.

"Shit, it's cold." Daniel came through the back door in a swirl of cold and snowflakes pulling his gloves off and rubbing his hands together at the stove. He was still smiling though; he hadn't stopped since he saw the snow out the window. I put my hands on his icy, red cheeks and he sighed with relief at their warmth on his skin. "That smells good, I'm starved. You were right about the ice, it's about an inch thick under the snow. We're stuck here."

Oh, what a shame. I pulled off his hat and ran my hand over his head, making him shiver with more than cold. It pleased me no end that the lightest, most innocent touch to his scalp drove him wild.

"But I don't know where I'm going to go anyway," Daniel said with a shrug. His sudden seriousness made me back off from my plans to peel his clothes off and have my way with him. He hadn't talked about what happened in St. Louis much, or where the events left him, but there was only so long we could avoid the subject. The teakettle whistled and I pulled it off the stove and made instant coffee while he finished taking off his cold weather gear next to the warmth of the fire.

"I can't go back to Florida right now. There might be a warrant out for me by now. I wonder if even my friends on the force think I'm a cop killer."

"Surely, they know you wouldn't do that," I said softly as I handed him a coffee cup.

"Maybe. I'd like to think you're right." He sank down in my grandma's rocker with his sock-covered toes close to the stove, sipping his coffee absently. "But they're probably monitoring the phones of my friends, anyone I'm likely to get in touch with, so I can't make any calls. I was planning on heading to Chicago and getting together with Scott Wyman before things went too far. Right before I left, I mailed him the originals of all my evidence, which I didn't even give to my captain. The case was too sensitive to share within the department so I used Scott as an outside safety net. But he turned on me. He sent me straight into a fucking trap and almost got me killed."

"Is it possible he just didn't know the FBI agent was in on it?"

"It's possible. Maybe he just didn't have everything checked out properly. In that case, he's just stupid instead of a dirty cop." Daniel shrugged with a disgusted half-smile something like a sneer. "Either way he's a liability to me, and to my investigation."

"The originals you sent him, they're not the only copy of your evidence you have, is it?"

"Of course not. That would be stupid. But I don't have access to any of the copies right now, either. Somehow, I have to get to one of those copies and put them in the hands of someone who can be trusted. I just don't know who that is right now."

He sat there with the coffee cup in his hands silently staring at the ash pan under the stove. After a second, I took the hot frying pan of hash off the stove with a potholder and put it on plates. It had to be hard on him, not knowing what to do next or who to turn to. At least being snowed in, frozen in a block of ice, gave him a chance to think.

"Hungry?"

Shaking off his thoughts, he smiled at me and took the plate I handed him. I sat down on the other rocker across the stove from him and pondered how normal it felt to just be sitting here in this kitchen eating with him, so quiet, not even a clock ticking, just the squeak of the chairs rocking slightly and the crackle of the flames in the stove.

"So, you used to be in the military?"

If he was going to fuck me with a flashlight, I should at least know something about him. For all I knew he had a wife and kids, although it was highly unlikely, considering how much he liked my dick up his ass.

"Yeah, for awhile."

I paused, waiting for him to elaborate, but he just ate his hash.

"So... Army, Navy, Marines?" I finally asked.

"Army."

"Oh yeah? My uncle was in the Army in Viet Nam, he was a Jeep mechanic. What did you do?"

"I was in the Army for awhile and now I'm out. That's pretty much it." He shrugged.

He'd mentioned the Gulf, he'd mentioned Special Ops. There was a story there but he wasn't sharing it, he was shutting me out. His short, stubborn answers just made my curiosity grow. "So... does that mean you can't talk about it? It's top secret?"

This time, a snort and a roll of the eyes. "You watch too many movies."

The tone was light, but I sensed him drawing away and closing off, his defenses crashing down like a iron gate. I backed off instinctively. I didn't mean it to sound like an interrogation, but it did and nobody likes that, especially not someone with something to hide. I didn't know what Daniel was hiding; before now, I hadn't even realized there was something buried in him that he didn't let anyone see, not even whomever he was closest to. Just as I couldn't be pushed, Daniel couldn't either. When confronted with a force trying to propel me, I resisted it, and so did he. I could understand. When he wanted to talk, he would.

"Yeah, I do." I grinned at him over the top of the stove. "How about a porn movie where I get to watch you fuck all your bunk mates? I could be the new recruit that you had to show the ropes."

"Ropes? I like the sound of that."

The stiff shoulders relaxed and he shot me a smile that hit me squarely in the pit of my stomach, tingling down into my cock. Ropes... "Do they have you restrained?" his voice rasped in my ear, firm hand on my back, calling me his slut, taking me to a place I never let myself go. I felt different now. I felt relieved that my secrets were out, but I was embarrassed I'd given so much of myself away. My instinct was to demand it back, to question him and make him give me answers, so I wouldn't feel like I was getting nothing in return. The nothing was terrifying. Was he laughing at me? If he was, I couldn't deal with it.

I let him take me to that place inside, the place that scared me. He didn't force me or push me, he only guided me and his confidence made my fears go away. He always had to be so strong and save the fucking world, and that had to be one hell of a burden. I couldn't ease that for him. Cooking for him, ensuring he was warm and finding him a toothbrush was all I could do. Guess that meant I cared.

Sexual sparks crackled between us, but I didn't want to push any more than I already had. There were plenty of little things that needed doing. Dishes washed, wood brought in, water refilled. I did a few of them after showing Daniel how you washed and shaved in an ice storm. When he came out, I was standing at the sink with my hands in the dishwater staring out over the fields of ice-crusted snow, blurring into the bleak gray sky until I couldn't tell one from the other.

Hands slid down my hips, a warm body pressed against my back and I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. He was warm and scrubbed, smelling of soap and mint toothpaste, and I couldn't stop a little moan from catching in my throat. Shit, nobody had ever made me moan like this. Just his touch made my dick so hard it was almost painful when it nudged the edge of the counter and I couldn't decide whether to rub against that or the hard bulge pressed against my ass through the thin clingy knit of his long johns.