“Don’t make me beat you.” Sky snorted, patting him clumsily.
“I hit back, remember?” One of them shifted, the other one shuddered, and they both moaned. “Mother of—”
“Jesus, baby. If you rip my dick off, you’ll miss it tomorrow.”
He shot Sky a horrified look and they both started laughing, which didn’t help his shuddering at all. He took Sky by the hips and rolled them to their sides, putting a couple of inches between them. “I just…I mean…Jesus.” He couldn’t stop giggling.
“Classy, that’s me.” Sky smacked their lips together before cracking up again.
“Hot as the sun. Hottest thing in a cowboy hat. Or out of one.” The cowboy hat thing went back so far, he couldn’t remember why he’d even said it the first time, except that it had been a joke and it stuck.
“Good.” Sky stretched, back popping loudly. “Let me grab a towel.”
“Yes. You move. Good idea. Because I’m old and boneless.” He snorted.
“Shit, lots of my bones are stainless now. I’m like the Tin Woodsman.” Sky rolled up and stood, swaying a bit before limping to the bathroom.
“Too bad you’re not bionic. Imagine the sex?” He hauled himself to sitting and scritched his fingers through his hair.
“The best part would be if I excreted heated lube.”
“Jesus. Only you, man. That’s disgusting.” He still hadn’t quite kicked the giggles, and that set him off again.
Sky tossed the towel at him, flopping down on the bed and howling with laughter.
He cleaned up while they breathed through the last bit of laughter. Sky had to be at least as exhausted as he was. He hunkered back down and fluffed up his pillows, then patted the bed right next him for Sky to join him. “I love you.”
He loved how those jeans he wore today turned his husband on too.
“I love you, old man. You blow my mind.” Sky settled against him, heavy and solid as hell.
Ha. Old man, my ass.
He closed his eyes and let his husband’s breathing settle him.
He wasn’t old, and Sky wasn’t young either. Whatever they were though, it worked for him. It worked all the way to his soul.
22
Sky kissed Beck’s cheek, slid out of bed, and made his way down the stairs, creaking and careful. God, that was still hard, and especially so this morning. He was sore.
He needed training for thrusting.Christ.
Coffee.
Coffee.
Possibly a Pop-Tart.
Mmm. Pop-Tarts.
He dragged himself into the kitchen, shocked as hell to see Parker on the back porch, looking haggard as hell.
There was already coffee on, though the pot was only half-full, and the Pop-Tarts were out on the counter, one silver wrapper lying beside the box. This wasn’t even Parker’s flavor. Parker liked those frosted brown sugar ones.
He grabbed a cup and opened the back door. “Mornin’.”
Parker glanced over his shoulder and then looked back out at the mountains. “Mornin’. Those are the Green Mountains, right? You have some view.”