“Pam?”
“She runs the local in-home fostering program. I used to do that, but when I got the chance to start the shelter and save more pets, I jumped on it.”
I bet you did. Arthur was a protector through and through.
“She still does vital work. The shelter helps, but there are always more pets and some who don’t do well in a crate. And chickens.” He actually chuckled. “I got a huffy text string from Kevin complaining that the sheriff wouldn’t let him volunteer to feed Frank’s chickens. Conflict of interest. Kevin insisted helping Frank’s birds should show he was unbiased, so not a conflict but proof of goodwill. He was peeved they forbade it. But I’m glad if the cops are keeping the kid away from a man like that, even while he’s in jail.”
I scowled. “I hope the bastard serves a bunch of time. He hurt you.”
“My sexy defender.” Arthur rubbed his thumb across my lip, then put his hand back on my shoulder as his eyes darkened. “Get me naked.”
He’d worn socks in the house so I slipped off one, baring his knobby, pale foot, and then the other. I helped him ease his ankles from the sweats and boxers until he stood naked before me. “You okay?”
“If we slow down or stop every time you ask that, we’ll never actually make it to bed. Let me lean on you and I’ll get in.”
I guided him, yanked the covers down, and eased him onto the bed. He really did look much better, at least to me, than he had in a while. The furrow in his brow had smoothed out, telling me that must’ve been a sign of pain. His color was good, cheeks flushed, not pale, and the creases by his eyes were smile wrinkles. He ran a hand down his broad chest, his eyes on mine.
God, I want him. Within a few moments my shoes, socks, jeans, boxer briefs, and henley were a distant memory. I ran a finger over my abdomen. “You’re not the only one with scars.” I didn’t want to explain it now, but the surgery had left its mark, only now beginning to fade.
“Saw that last time. Don’t care.” Arthur smiled. “You take my breath away.”
That felt a little fanciful, but given what he’d endured in the past two weeks, I could understand. Our meeting had begun with a bang, and it’d been dramatically up and down ever since. And to be honest, my breathing wasn’t all that steady right now either.
He held out a condom.
I grinned and took it.
He appeared relieved.
I scooted over to grab the bottle of lube, and then headed back to the man waiting with his arms open. He’d eased his injured leg to the side, flat on the bed, and raised the other leg. The pain wrinkle hadn’t returned as he lightly stroked his erect cock. I scooted between his thighs. Then sighed. “I wanted this to be all romantic and stuff. Go super slow, kiss every inch. Last time—” You were injured. “And this time—” I want to take my time…
“You have a sister waiting. It’s okay. We’ll find a moment, when everything’s calmed down, to go slow.” He squeezed his shaft. “I’m pretty desperate here—so I’m good with fast even if your younger sister wasn’t home alone.”
“I’m going to not think about sisters.” For a few minutes, anyway. I held the bottle of lube. “Do you mind if I prep you? I kind of like?—”
“I don’t mind lying back and letting you do the work. At all.” He held my gaze. “It’s been a little while.”
“Oh.” The local gay men were blind, not to see what they had in their midst. At the same time, I could imagine he was so busy he didn’t take time for himself. Between the shelter and his wonderful menagerie, he’d barely been able to slow down after having been shot. “Let me know if I go too fast.”
In the interest of moving things along, I opened the condom packet and rolled the rubber on my very perky cock. My touch and the sight of Arthur waiting, open for me, turned perky to rock hard. Truly, Arthur was lovely—all strong muscles under the soft padding, ginger hair, and pale skin. Even the bullet wound didn’t mar his unique perfection.
I coated my fingers with lube.
He grinned.
I leaned forward and ran my fingers around his rim.
He nodded.
Slowly, I slid one finger in, his ass giving way easily, and enjoyed the heat and his soft groan. I loved prepping partners with whom I had a connection—but there hadn’t been many. Hookups were mostly one and done. I savored the intimacy that this act brought with it when deeper feelings were involved. Like now, with this man. After I gauged Arthur was fine, I added a second finger.
He held my gaze with an intensity that nearly robbed me of breath. “I’m okay.”
I chuckled. “And I didn’t even have to ask.” I scissored my fingers, opening him up a little. Then I twisted my wrist in just that perfect way and brushed his prostate.
He gasped. “Yep. That’s it.”
A drop of precum dripped from his tip onto his belly.
