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lanyon Josh - Because of The Brave Because of The Brave

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

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Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Because of The Brave - lanyon Josh - Страница 17


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Because of the Brave

his opponent to take his turn. Peter sat down at a tall stool, his arm draped over the bar as he sipped his drink, watching.

Robin tipped his head back and drank, his Adam’s apple working, his lips caressing the lip of the bottle and everything tightened in Peter’s body, including the muscles in his chest where they wrapped around his heart. His mouth went dry. He’d never been interested in anyone this close to home, having preferred, even in high school, to find his fun in the cities. He’d never been anything in Hadleyburg but the son of the hometown hero, a cop who’d lost his life rescuing three children from a fall through the ice on the lake before losing his own life attempting to rescue a fourth.

Peter had spent the night before boot camp in this same bar, being toasted by his mother’s friends and his father’s fellow officers, men who looked to him to be the next Hsu hero, and he’d fled and taken his secret with him. He wondered if he could keep his secret with Robin standing right in front of him presenting the greatest temptation Peter had ever seen. And why that should be so, even Peter couldn’t say.

Peter lifted his bottle to take a sip as he looked at the man, who was setting up another shot, this time thankfully on the opposite side of the table. The cue slipped between fingers on that fabulous dark hand and right as Peter thought for sure it would strike the ball Robin stopped what he was doing and looked up as if he sensed he was being watched.

A slow smile bloomed on Robin’s face and transformed it while Peter held his breath. He put his beer down on the bar with a clatter and headed for the men’s room. It didn’t surprise him when—only a moment later—Robin entered behind him. He saw in the mirror that when Robin didn’t find him immediately, he frowned and turned back to exit the way he’d come. Peter moved from behind the door and leaned against it after it closed.

Once again the silence stretched out between them. Robin stepped boldly into Peter’s space. With the advantage of his height he forced Peter to look up to meet his eyes. “Say it,” Robin commanded.

Peter caught a handful of Robin’s braids and brought his mouth down for a dirty kiss, hungry and wet, running his tongue across those luscious lips, imagining how they’d feel on his dick, imagining how his own lips could savor the secret places on this hot, hot man’s body. For a moment it sparked between them, threatening to turn into a full-fledged inferno. Peter shifted his legs so if Robin even inched forward a hair he’d be ready to grind against the man’s well-muscled thigh. Robin didn’t move.

“I smell mothballs.” Robin said when he could finally pull his lips away.

“My job—” Peter pulled him back. “You know I can’t—”

Robin stepped away. “You said your mother doesn’t know who you are. I say neither do you.” He went to the sink and splashed some cold water onto his face. When he stood to pull a paper towel from the dispenser he met Peter’s eyes in the mirror. “I don’t’ want to be your dirty secret. I hate that shit.”

“I’m not going to have a secret for long.”

Robin paused in the act of throwing the paper towel into the bin. “What do you mean?”

Peter slumped back against the door. “I’m being blackmailed. I’m due to re-enlist, but if I do I’ll be blackmailed and if I don’t pay and he follows through with his threat, I get discharged.”

“Your word against someone else’s?”

Peter shook his head. “Videotapes.”

Robin hissed out a laugh. “Stupid fuck.”

“I didn’t know, all right? Who the fuck does that? I didn’t know! Hidden camera. For blackmail not for giggles, right?”

“I’m sorry.” Robin’s eyes traveled over Peter’s body in an assessing way. “Was he hot? I’d pay good money to see you getting fucked by someone like me.”

“I can assure you he was nothing like you,” Peter said grimly. He turned to leave and gripped the door handle. “He was a pity fuck. Shit, even I hate myself. I deserve everything I get.”

Robin’s hand came around Peter’s waist to pull him back against a solid chest and Peter felt the hair on his neck rise as Robin’s breath teased at the skin there. Peter sagged against him and let himself be held, like that, for a moment.

“I want you,” Robin told him, pressing his erection into Peter’s ass even as he pressed Peter against the door. “But I won’t be some straight boy’s ‘down low’ toy.” He slid his hands down into the pockets of Peter’s jeans, rubbing the hollows of his pelvis maddening millimeters away from his cock.

Peter’s mouth hung open as he panted. “Fuck, don’t tease me. You know it’s going to be the other way around.”

“Did you fuck someone on that tape, Peter?” Robin asked. “Or did someone fuck you. What did you do? Did you kneel at a man’s feet and take his cock into your mouth?”

Peter shuddered and reached his hands back to grip Robin’s ass, pulling him closer as the man made several short jabs to accent the filthy talk that he must have known was making Peter burn inside.

“You like that?” Robin asked him. “Have you seen the video? Have you seen yourself get fucked by a man?

Peter nodded against the door, his mouth still slack from trying to drag air into his lungs.

“You saw it?”

“In a mirror.” Peter twisted his body around and cupped Robin’s face with his hands. Their lips met and they kissed urgently until Peter finally pulled back to breathe. “I haven’t seen the—”

“I want to fuck you, soldier man.” Robin pushed his whole body against Peter’s, and Peter molded himself to its contours, surrendered himself to the insistence of his attraction.

“Hell, yes,” he whispered into Robin’s mouth. “Fuck, now, yes.”

Peter felt a subtle change in Robin’s body. Robin pressed his forehead against Peter’s and let out a sigh. “I don’t think I want to fuck the hometown hero’s baby soldier boy in the bathroom of a redneck bar.”

Peter blew out a tense breath and almost laughed. “Now that you put it that way….”

Robin lifted his arm and Peter ducked under it, walking to the basin, giving himself time to think. He waited for a minute after Robin left before following him out into the near empty bar. Robin was talking to the guy he’d played pool with while he picked up his bag and the sacks from his errands. Peter exited and waited for Robin in the truck. Neither man spoke when Robin got in, but Peter keyed the ignition and soon they were on their way.

Peter hurled himself at the back door of his mother’s house, barely turning the key in the lock before Robin’s body hit his hard and they went down just inside on linoleum floor of the service porch.

Robin kicked the door closed with his foot as he settled on Peter’s body. He held himself up with his forearms as he ground his hips down into Peter’s cock. Peter dug his hands into Robin’s hair, pulling handfuls of his braids to bring his head in for a kiss.

He loved the weight of Robin’s big, hard body as it pinned him to the floor. Loved the feel and the smell of Robin’s skin. Peter pressed his lips to Robin’s and found them to be soft and mobile, ready to part for a questing tongue yet at the same time seconds away from smiling.

Robin stroked a finger along Peter’s face, softly tracing his cheekbones to his jaw, “I saw your picture a thousand times right here in this house.”

Peter opened his legs and wrapped them around Robin’s, straining against him, trying to line up their cocks for some quality friction even though his body was demanding more. He shoved his hands down the waistband of Robin’s jeans and found perfect ass cheeks to squeeze. Robin’s hips snapped against his and he let out a groan.

“Robin.” Peter clung to Robin as they ground their hips together, each wave pushing him backwards across the slick floor into the kitchen.

Robin stopped what he was doing to toe his shoes and socks off, using his feet to try to rid Peter of his, but they were boots and required untying.