"Sheriff? Come in,
Sheriff."
Sheriff John Henry
Harrison picked up his receiver and replied. "Yeah, Maggie, what's
up?"
"We
have a disturbance out at the McAdam's place,
Sheriff."
"What sort of
disturbance?" As far as he knew, the McAdam's place was empty. Maybe it
was kids playing games or something. The place had been vacant for over
five years but every once in a while, kids like to have parties
there.
"The new owner called in.
He said he has trespassers. He's holding them off with a
shotgun."
"Shit." John Henry tossed
his coffee cup in the trash. It probably was a bunch of kids. "All right,
I'm on my way." The sheriff hit his lights and spun his bronco around,
heading toward the McAdam's ranch.
"New owner? When did the
place sell, Maggie?" he continued his conversation with the dispatcher on
his shoulder mic as he pressed down harder on the gas. He didn’t want to
deal with dead teenagers because they were out for a bit of fun. People
around here protected their property with a vengeance.
"Cheryl sold the place a
couple of months ago. The new owner moved in last
month."
"Huh." John Henry was
surprised. He never thought that the McAdam's place would sell. Once upon
a time, the old rolling southern mansion and its surrounding five hundred
acres had been worth a butt load of cash. Now, it was just a rundown old
house in the middle of the country. He wasn't even sure the barn was still
standing.
It
didn't take John Henry more than a few minutes to reach the place. He
could see several cars pulled up in front of the colonial style house when
he pulled into the driveway. Four people stood out in front of one of the
vehicles—a very fancy looking vehicle.
And
one man stood on the front porch with a shotgun in his
hands.
That wasn't
good.
John Henry cautiously
climbed out of his bronco and stuck his cowboy hat on his head. He shut
the door loud enough for everyone to hear it. The four people yelling at
the man on the porch turned to stare at him.
Strangely enough, the man
standing on the porch with the shotgun leaned it against the side of the
house as soon as he saw John Henry. He took several steps away, putting
enough space between him and the shotgun that John Henry didn't feel in
danger of his life. He was grateful for the gesture.
At
least he was dealing with a reasonable man.
Hopefully.
"I'm Sheriff John Henry
Harrison," he stated as he stepped around the front of his bronco. "What
seems to be the problem here?"
The
man on the porch crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of
the large round white pillars on the porch. He didn't say a word. He just
turned his gaze to the other people gathered in front of the
vehicles.
John Henry blinked in
shock when everyone except the man on the porch started talking at once.
He counted four people talking all at the same time—an older man and
woman, a man in his mid-forties, and a young woman. His surprise quickly
turned to a low burning anger when they all pointed fingers at the man on
the porch and continued shouting. He couldn't understand a word that they
were saying. They were shouting over each other.
John Henry raised his
hand to stop everyone but it did no good. They all just continued
shouting, pointing fingers, and glaring toward the porch. John Henry
glanced at the man on the porch. He still stood there, only this time he
had an amused smirk on his face. He arched an eyebrow when he saw John
Henry looking at him.
John Henry wanted to roll
his eyes but it wouldn't be very professional. He put his fingers to his
lips and let out a loud whistle. Everyone yelling stopped to stare at him.
"Who's the owner here?"
"That would be
me."
John Henry's eyes snapped
over to the man on the porch. "You're the new
owner?"
"I
am."
John Henry walked in his
direction, keeping his eyes on the others gathered. Until he knew what was
what, he wasn't taking his eyes off of any of them. "And who are
you?"
"Charlie
Pennington."
John Henry shook the hand
the man held out to him, his eyes widening a little when he felt a small
zing shoot through his palm when their hands touched. "Sheriff John
Henry—"
"Harrison." Charlie
smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth. "Yes, I
heard."
"Did you put a call in to
the sheriff's department?"
"I
did." Charlie nodded toward the others. "I've asked these people to leave
and they refused. As this is private property, my property, they are
trespassing and I want them gone."
"I
see." John Henry glanced at the four people standing there shooting glares
of pure hatred at Charlie. They were scathing looks, almost burning. John
Henry didn't know what was going on here—yet—but he didn't think these
people were from around here.
This was the country.
Most people dressed in jeans and T-shirts, like Charlie was dressed. It
was unusual to see people dressed in fancy duds. It was instantly clear
that the four people trespassing were from the city.
"Folks, if the owner of
the property has asked you to leave, then you have to
leave."
"I'm not leaving here
until I see my grandchildren," an older man in a three piece dark blue
suit shouted as he wagged his beefy finger at the man on the porch. "You
can't keep them from us, Charles."
Grandchildren? John Henry
glanced over his shoulder. The sexy man standing behind him had children?
Damn. What a fucking waste.
"Coming to bed, John
Henry?"
John Henry groaned again.
Charlie was trying to kill him. He opened his eyes when he felt Charlie
grab his hand and pull. He was being led back into the bedroom. Charlie
stopped at the side of the bed and reached for the hem of John Henry's
shirt.
John Henry felt a little
self-conscious about all of the hair on his chest, and there was a lot,
but then he saw the lust blazing in Charlie's eyes. "Do you like that?" he
asked.
Charlie's hard swallow
was audible as he nodded. John Henry grabbed Charlie's hands and laid them
on his chest close to his collarbone. He watched Charlie's face intently
as he slowly dragged the man's hands down his chest. When Charlie sucked
in his lower lip and shuddered, John Henry had had about all he could
take.
"I
want skin, Charlie."
Charlie nodded, not
taking his eyes off of John Henry's chest.
"Now, Charlie." John
Henry chuckled at the dazed look in Charlie's eyes when he looked up. He
looked so confused. He sounded so confused when he
spoke.
"Now?"
"Now would be good, don't
you think, Charlie?"
"Naked is good," Charlie
said. "I'm in favor of naked."
John Henry chuckled
again. He liked knowing he had this effect on Charlie. He reached for the
hem of Charlie's shirt. He pulled it up slowly, wanting to savor the
anticipation, but each inch of tanned sculpted skin just made him want to
see the next inch.
By
the time he tossed Charlie's shirt to the floor, John Henry was ready to
forgo slow and savory for right fucking now. Charlie was perfection. John
Henry knew the man had to stay in shape for the service but this man's
body went above and beyond that. Charlie was a work of art—a hot, sexy,
breathtaking, work of art.
Charlie was almost the
exact opposite of John Henry. Where John Henry had hair covering a lot of
his chest, Charlie was all silky smooth skin. They both had a trail of
hair leading down their abdomens to under the waistband of their jeans.
John Henry's hair was dark, Charlie's was light.
John Henry flicked the
button on Charlie's jeans. He felt Charlie shudder as he lowered the
zipper. When Charlie's hard cock bounced out, John Henry froze and tried
to retain what little control he had left as he realized that Charlie
wasn't wearing any underwear.
"Fuck, Charlie, you're
going commando."
Charlie laughed. "And you
aren't?"
"B-Boxers."
"Really?"
Charlie's hands were on
John Henry's zipper before he could stop him. Heat flushed through his
face when he remembered that he was indeed wearing boxers—and they had
little yellow smiley faces all over them.
"Uh…" Charlie paused and
peeked up at John Henry. "Are you trying to tell me that you're into the
whole Mr. Happy
thing?"
John Henry snorted and
rolled his eyes. "They were clean."
"Uh
huh."
John Henry felt a
sheepish grin cross his face as he stepped back and pushed his boots off
his feet then shoved his jeans, and smiley face boxers, down his legs. By
the time he kicked them away and stood up, Charlie was standing before him
in all his naked glory.
Hot
damn.
"Gods, you are so fucking
sexy."
Charlie's dark blond
eyebrows shot up. "Me?" His eyes slid down John Henry's body. "I'm
thinking you are way sexier than this old marine."
"There isn't anything old
about you, Charlie, and you know it."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I
feel like it."
"Then let me see if I can
change that." John Henry stepped forward into Charlie's space and wrapped
his arms around the man's shoulders. He leaned down the few inches between
them and captured Charlie's mouth with his own. Charlie's lips were still
warm and swollen from their last kiss.
John Henry's pulse
quickened when their bodies came together, skin against skin, cock against
cock. He couldn't remember that last time something had felt this good, if
ever. It made him acutely aware of the strength and the warmth of
Charlie's body.
"I
want to fuck you, John Henry." Charlie spoke quietly but his voice boomed
in the room. "Will you let me?"
John Henry nodded. He had
no problem letting Charlie fuck him. He wasn't one of those guys who
always expected to give and never receive. He liked it both ways. He hoped
when the time came, Charlie would allow him to do the same. He was just
too afraid to ask. Feeling Charlie's beautiful cock pound into his ass was
too important at the moment. It made everything else pale in comparison.
"Lube?" John Henry asked.
"Condom?"
"I'll get them," Charlie
replied. "You just lie down on the bed."
Despite wanting to feel
Charlie pound him into the mattress, John Henry was nervous as he crawled
up onto the bed and rolled over onto his back. He saw Charlie step away
from the nightstand and toss something onto the bed. Then Charlie climbed
onto the bed and knelt between John Henry's thighs.
"Hi." Charlie
grinned.
John Henry couldn't help
but grin back. "Hi."
Charlie leaned up over
John Henry. "Are you sure you're ready for this? We don't have to do
anything if you're uncomfortable. We could just sit and talk, get another
beer, or whatever."
"No, I want this. I'm
just a little"—John Henry shrugged—"It's been
awhile."
"I
won't do anything you don't want me to, okay?"
John Henry
nodded.
"If
something makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I'll
stop."
John Henry nodded again.
He was starting to feel less nervous and more anxious. The heat emanating
from Charlie's body was warming him but every inch of skin that touched
his was making him go out of his mind. John Henry wrapped his arms around
Charlie and pulled until the man collapsed down on top of
him.
"That’s better." He
laughed when Charlie arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm a bit bigger than you,
Charlie. I think I can take it."
"We'll see, big man."
John Henry's eyes
fluttered closed when Charlie claimed his lips in a toe curling kiss.
Gods, the man could kiss. John Henry had never met anyone in his life that
was so very oral. He couldn't wait to find out what else Charlie could do
with his lips.
When Charlie's lips moved
away from John Henry's mouth and started kissing a path down his jaw line
to his throat, John Henry arched his head back, giving the man better
access. John Henry never thought he'd be into biting but each lick and nip
just amped up the arousal already flooding his senses.
"Gods, you're really good
at this."
