The bone jarring impact as the small car smashed into his truck preceded the sickening crunch of metal on metal. Terror-filled screams competed with the screech of steel grating over steel. His seat belt slammed him back into the seat as the truck spun, the world flying passed him as Brody struggled to keep the truck on the road. Glass shattered, shards cutting into his skin as the front of his pick-up connected with the meridian before swinging wildly toward the guardrail.
Pain raced along his arms as the wheel jerked against his control. Even with the seat belt in place, he flew forward as the front bumper caught on something, the sudden halt jerking him forward violently. His forehead smashed into the dash, the steering wheel cracking beneath his weight. His lungs ached, the need to inhale burning, the act of breathing sending waves of agony washing over him. With a muttered curse, he felt the truck tip, the guardrail filling the passenger window a moment before it crashed over, rolling, again and again to come to a halt with a splash. Pain ripped through his body with each crunch of metal, the shards of splintered glass filling the cab. Icy water crept in around his feet. Pain throbbed, the slow trickle of blood teasing along his temple as he struggled to get free of his safety belt.
Staring through the windshield, Brody pushed at the door, his eyes locked on the small grey car tangled in his grill. Prayers slipped past dry lips as he managed to get out. Ignoring the icy current trying to sweep his legs from beneath him, he inched his way forward. Determination filled him as he came to the driver’s door. He peered through the spider-webbed glass to see a tangled mop of dark hair slumped in the driver’s seat over the steering wheel, blood soaking the pale top of the dashboard.
Brody cursed the searing flares of pain in his chest as he pulled on the door. Finally, with a groan of protest the mangled metal yielded to him and he reached in. Water lapped at the seat the young woman was slumped in. Blood soaked one arm, and he could see the protruding bit of bone in her left leg.
A quick cursory glance of the rest of the car revealed she was alone. Don’t let this make it worse. He struggled with the seat belt until it gave way, the pounding of his own heart loud in his ears. Biting back a cry of pain, he pulled the woman from the wreckage. The water turned pink as he half carried, half dragged her toward the shore.
Sharp rocks bit into his hand as he pulled them both up onto the shore. Bloody water oozed into his eyes, his own injuries a searing ball of agony he struggled to ignore. An eerie groan from the water drew his attention and he swore as the car sank beneath the surface, bubbles and foam frothing up as the air was forced out. The pain-filled moan from next to him barely penetrated the growing fog in his head as darkness rolled over him like a slow-moving tide.
Help us, please.
* * * *
Pale light filtered through the blinds as Brody blinked. From a distance, he could hear the beeping of something electronic and the hustle of people moving in the corridor. The smell of alcohol mixed with the rather unpleasant smells of body odor and bodily fluids. Lifting a hand, he groaned at the agony coursing through him. A gentle tugging on his hand drew his attention and he gaped at the tube running from the back of his hand down over the edge of the narrow cot he lay in. Twisting painfully in bed, he gaped at the IV and bags hanging from the pole attached to the head of the bed.
“Oh fuck.” He exhaled sharply and struggled to rise. With each twisting movement, the alarms around him sounded, sending out beeps and squeaks to drive him crazy. He flopped back, the alarms going off slowly as he forced himself to relax and focus.
“Well, good morning, Mr. Brekveld, glad to see you’ve joined us. I’m Dr. Rebecca Monroe, the vascular surgeon here in Eaton. Have you been awake long?” The swish of the door opening preceded the feminine voice by a heartbeat.
Brody lifted his head and eyed the tall, dark-haired woman striding toward him, a chart in one hand and a coffee in the other. Behind her hovered a thin man in purple scrubs.
He swallowed when she set the chart and coffee on his bedside table and reached for the stethoscope around her neck. Brody watched her polish the diaphragm on her lab coat. She tapped the bell and shuffled closer to the bed.
“You were in an accident,” she explained as she adjusted his rather loose hospital gown and pressed the cold metal to his chest. “Did you have breakfast?”
“No. How long was I out for?” Brody hissed in a breath at the cold press of metal. “What about the girl in the car? Was she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. A few cuts, bruises, a broken leg that punctured her skin, and a rather nasty broken breastbone but she’ll make a full recovery. Thanks to you. It was very brave what you did.”
“Good. How long until I get out of here?”
Jackson snorted a humorless laugh and turned to stare back out the window. He inhaled sharply at the soft thud of wood on the floor followed by the faint scuff of a bare foot. Brody’s breath whispered over the skin of his shoulder as the other man stopped directly behind him. Willing himself not to react, Jackson stood frozen even as he felt his cock twitch. His heart pounding madly, he leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.
He jumped at the first brush of fingers along his shoulder, their heat soaking into his skin. Brody trailed his fingers over the muscles, seemingly happy to draw the joint. Jackson swallowed. “So why are you still up? Or did I wake you?” He cleared his throat, his fingers knotted into fists.
“Mmm, a little of both,” Brody whispered, his lips moving with each word as he pressed against Jackson’s body. “Was thinking.”
“Yeah. I want to see if it’s as good as I remember.”
“What?” Jackson twisted, intent on turning only to moan when Brody’s hands caught him and pressed his hands against the counter. Slowly, Brody eased his hands back up Jackson’s arms, pausing to learn the faint ridges of the scars marring Jackson’s right hand and forearm before moving upward.
“No, no turning around,” Brody insisted, a strange note in his voice. Jackson shivered at the heat of his touch. Brody’s fingers danced across his shoulders, down his arms before gliding over the skin and onto his chest. Breathless, Jackson struggled to remain still. His heart skipped a beat before racing forward when Brody licked and nibbled at the tender skin of his shoulder and upper back.
Brody’s ragged breathing fired his lust. The rough sounds were like gasoline on flames—desire exploded through him. Shards of heat and electricity beat into him. Moaning, he leaned forward, his head pressed against the cool wood of the cupboard door. “God, Brody.”
“Shh.” Brody pressed forward, his teeth sinking into the tender skin of Jackson’s neck. He rolled his hips, his hard shaft pressing against Jackson’s ass. Jackson clenched in response, his puckered hole throbbing with the need to feel him. Jackson arched back, rubbing himself shamelessly along Brody’s shaft, the heat building. His cock throbbed, hardening with each pulsing beat of Brody’s heart.
Groans escaped as Brody’s hand drifted up his chest, his fingers plucking at his nipples. He rolled them between his fingers, pinching and tugging. Jackson clung to the counter, his legs threatening to give out on him as Brody worked his body. He bit back a cry at the sensation of Brody’s tongue painting a trail along his spine. Sharp little nips along his sides, up to the sensitive skin near his shoulder drove him mad. His cock ached.
He rolled his hips, dragging his cock over the smooth wall of a cupboard door, a tortured groan escaping. One hand reached back, grabbing for Brody as he swayed closer, his fingers sinking into hot flesh.
“God, man, you’re driving me crazy.” Jackson tried to focus past the burning need to have Brody touch him. He wiggled, his ass pushing against the hard shaft pressing into it. Amazement flooded him at how turned on he was, how desperate he was for the touch from the man leaning against him.
“Good,” Brody hissed, his hands moving lower, fingers raking through the blond curls of Jackson’s chest and into his jeans. The rasp of his zipper being undone filled Jackson’s head as Brody reached through the opening. “Ooh, naughty.” Brody suckled at his neck. “No underwear, huh?”
“I, uh…” Shuddering with awareness, Jackson moaned as Brody’s fingers closed around his shaft. Slow glide down, squeeze, slow glide up. Brody repeated the motion again and again until Jackson could cheerfully have killed him. “Bedroom. Bedroom.” Panting, Jackson twisted in Brody’s grasp, moaning and panting with the loss of Brody’s touch. He wrapped an arm around Brody, pulling him into his body. His cock twitched, the head weeping with precum as he thrust forward.
“Fuck it.” Brody hopped back.
“No, your sister.” Jackson leaned down to grab his ass and squeezed. He tap-danced his fingers along Brody’s flank, plucking at the top of the sweats. Eating up every moan from Brody, Jackson licked his lips, his eyes skipping down Brody’s body to stare at the wide, flat head of his cock. His mouth watered at the sight, and he moaned.
Brody groaned and straightened. “My crutches.”
“Fuck ’em.” Jackson growled as he bent his knees, grabbing Brody and lifting him. His hands locked beneath the other man’s ass. He leaned forward to inhale. The faint smell of cedar and hot male sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock. Brody chuckled, a rough sound, as his fingers dug into Jackson’s scalp. Jackson wrapped himself around the other man, wiggling and twisting to get closer as they bumped their way down to the master bedroom.
Stumbling through the door, Jackson struggled to close the door and hold Brody as he tilted his head back. He hissed in a breath as Brody nipped and licked his way up his neck. Frantic to get closer, Jackson pushed at the waist of Brody’s sweats, his fingers burrowing through the dark curls. Weak light spilled across the floor from the partially opened bathroom door, casting a blanket of gold on the room.
“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” Brody groaned, wiggling against him. He licked Jackson’s skin, sending sparks along his nerves to his cock. “You think you could handle it?”
“Got better things in mind than talking,” Jackson panted as Brody pushed his pants passed his hips. He sucked in a breath when Brody’s fist wrapped around his aching shaft. “Fuck.” His heart thumped in his chest, the blood pooling as his balls tightened.
“Yeah,” Brody chuckled, one hand clinging to his shoulders. “Fucking delicious. Want to eat you alive, man.”