[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Contemporary Romance, M/M, sex toys, HEA]
Neville Swift is filled with dreams. They include love and success as an artist. When he arrives in Silver, he doesn’t know what to expect, but he does find that dreams can come true. Deacon West is the beginning to a future he wanted, but had never expected to be lucky enough to have.
Neville sat there, completely defeated, and pulled his blanket up around his ears as he stared at the wall across from him. As he did so, he absently wondered why walls were ever painted white. It was so boring. He loved color. Color was life. Maybe that was why his hair was dyed blue. Of course it was, he thought with his only smile of the day.
He was about to get up when a movement at the top of the stairs caught his attention. His eyes widened when he saw a large stranger striding toward him. The man only got bigger the nearer he got. He was wearing a uniform, part of which were snug jeans and a cowboy hat. Neville resisted drooling.
“Where?” The one word was spoken in a deep voice. The sound went straight through him, but not in a bad way.
Pushing a finger over the top edge of the blanket, Neville pointed toward Doug’s door. He watched as the stranger, a deputy sheriff, unsnapped his holster before knocking on the door and kept his hand at the ready over the grip of the pistol. It wasn’t a wimp’s knock either. Neville admired the man’s spine, as well as the broad shoulders, the long back, nicely rounded ass, and the thickly muscled thighs.
When Doug opened the door a second time, Neville nearly giggled when he heard the man’s demand of “Are you fucking stu—” cut off abruptly, having obviously expected it to be Neville coming back for more. He could be slow at times, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m Deputy Sheriff Deacon West. There’s been a third noise complaint made against you. I will give you one warning, Douglas Chambers. Keep the volume at a reasonable level from now on, or face losing your place here in the building, and receive a fine for noise. The rules here are strict. You signed the agreement when you came here through the program.”
Neville was a lot of things, but he wasn’t heartless. Every resident of the building, all twenty-four of them, was part of a program that helped people get their lives in order. Doug had not shared his past with Neville as some of the others had done. He had heard of the program a few years ago and knew it had been successful for many people. It had taken time, but Neville had finally gotten his head out of his ass and asked for help. The drugs were eating away at his life. It wouldn’t be long before he died. People he knew had already succumbed. There were powerful drugs being put onto the street by unscrupulous people. Money was the reason, but somewhere in their business model, they seemed to have forgotten to want people to live long enough to make a second purchase of their lethal product.
“I was just listening to a little music.”
“Keep it down. Now, I want you to explain why this gentleman on the floor behind me is on the floor. Did you have something to do with that?”
Neville was trying to get to his feet, but he was tangled up in his blanket. His sock-covered foot slipped on the blanket, and he fell back on his butt, his head smacking the wall. A sigh escaped him. It just wasn’t his day.
“I might have.”
Looking up as the deputy turned around, Neville watched as he crouched in front of him. The guy was still taller than he was sitting there on the floor. “What do you want to do, baby? Do you want to file assault charges against Mr. Chambers?”
“No. I just want to go to sleep.” He sniffled as his nose began to run. He needed a tissue. Before he knew it, or could protest, Neville was lifted and carried toward the open door of his apartment. “You don’t have to carry me,” he said finally in protest. The man carrying him was so large he felt like a child.
Deputy West ignored him, closing the door behind them, and carried Neville to the couch where he had been sleeping. The TV was in the living room, and he had been watching it earlier, before he had tried to sleep, and before the asshole Doug had awakened him with his loud, horrible music.
Sitting up, with the blanket tucked around him, the tall deputy straightened and stared down at Neville while Neville stared back. “What’s your name, cutie?”
The man certainly had a pension for pet names. Neville frowned at him. “Is it appropriate for you to call me that? Or baby?”
Broad shoulders lifted. The expression on the ruggedly handsome face told Neville he wasn’t particularly concerned. “You are cute. But, if you don’t want me to call you cutie, or baby, I’ll address you by your name as soon as you tell me what it is.”
“Okay, Mr. Swift.”
He scowled up at the deputy. “Now you’re just being a jerk.”
“That’s nothing new. Now, Mr. Swift, is there anything I can do for you?”
What Deacon discovered was that while he was gone, Neville had done a portrait in watercolors of his erect cock and hairless balls.
“Suitable for framing, don’t you think?” Neville asked, standing back as if he was admiring his own junk.
“Suitable to earn you a spanking, you mean. Come here, Neville. Put yourself across my lap.” Deacon sat down and waited, wondering if Neville would be bold enough to take it to the next step. The portrait of his dick was a huge clue that he might want more with Deacon, but making actual physical contact was what Deacon needed as proof. “Come here, now. Don’t disobey me. You might not like the punishment.”
Neville tipped his head to one side and looked at him curiously. “What kind of punishment?”
Deacon would never do anything to physically hurt Neville. He would enjoy giving the man an occasional spanking, maybe tie him up and fuck him, but not much more than that. Just enough to add a little spice to their sex lives—when they got one.
“I could get you up, keep you up for hours, and never let you come.”
“That wouldn’t be any fun. But, what else you got?”
Ballsy little fellow, Deacon thought, pleased. He doubted a life with Neville would ever be boring. It was something he hoped for.
“We’re wasting time, Neville. If you don’t want to find out what else I’ve got, and you really don’t, put yourself over my knee.”
The pause was a short one. Neville put aside those things he was holding and walked barefoot across the space between them. Deacon admired the man’s erect dick. It had been hard since they had begun talking about punishments. Clear liquid glistened as it slid from the slit in the plump, purplish head. Neville had expertly captured his aroused flesh in the portrait. Deacon wanted to stroke the shaft and trace the thick veins winding around it, but knew that would have to wait.
Deacon patted his thigh. “What’s it to be, baby? Pleasure or punishment?” Neville’s cock jumped toward his flat belly, and pre-cum leaked from the tip. “If you choose to be a good boy, we can go to Totally Discreet and choose some toys we can play with together.”
The man didn’t waste any more time. Neville draped himself over Deacon’s lap, offering up the twin rounded globes of his sexy ass. Deacon’s cock, already hard and throbbing by this time, began to hurt in a way he’d never experienced. It seemed this man could take him to a new level. That wasn’t a bad thing. It made Neville special.
The flat of his hand connected with Neville’s ass. A howl of shock rent the air. Deacon chuckled and sharply slapped the other mound before Neville could recover. He watched as the prints of his hand turned bright red. The skin was warming as he smoothed each mound with his palm. Neville moaned and pushed his ass up and against Deacon’s hand.
“The sheriff wanted to know if you were naked up here.”
“What’s it matter to him? He couldn’t see anything.”
Deacon’s lips twitched. Neville was purposely continuing to be a brat. It told Deacon he wanted more and that they were on the right track. Instead of continuing the spanking, he held off for a moment. Using the tip of his finger, he traced the groove between the mounds, laughing softly as Neville groaned and began to hump his erection against Deacon’s thigh.
He pressed his left hand between Neville’s shoulder blades. “Settle down. Let me play.” A whimper reached his ears as Deacon found the tight rosette of the man’s asshole. “I think the first thing we’ll buy is a dildo. After I spank you, I’ll keep you here on my lap and fuck you with it until you’re begging me to let you come.”
More whimpers. Almost a steady stream of them. Neville tried to push back against Deacon’s finger, but he held him down firmly. As he felt the muscles loosen slightly, he pushed a finger in to the first knuckle. It was no more than another tease.
“Oh! You’re an evil, evil man!” Neville shouted when Deacon continued to tease without penetrating his dark channel any farther. Hands gripped his leg, pulled at it, desperately trying to convey how needy he was. “More! Deacon! Please!”
The shouting continued. Deacon swirled the tip of his finger around in the ring of muscles. It took every bit of control he possessed to not pull his jeans down to his knees and plant Neville on his cock. There had to be some finesse. He wasn’t an animal, and he was beyond fucking without thinking of anyone but himself. And Neville was like no other man he had been with before. Neville had a place in Deacon’s heart.
“Oh, hell!” Neville wailed as he came, his body jerking, the muscles of his hole clamping tight around Deacon’s finger. It went on for several seconds. The scent of cum reached his nose. Neville moaned and shuddered, finally becoming quiet and still.