BA Tortuga - No Place Like Home.pdf - B. A. Tortuga - chillipi

Torquere Press, PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78685.

ISBN: 1-933389-64-8

Printed in the United States of America.

Chapter One

The morning sun was fucking bright as Adam wandered out into the kitchen, hitching up

his oldest pair of jeans and blinking against the sunshine. They were soft. Which was good,

considering that he was a little hung over and everything ached, and he couldn't find his

best pair of sweats.

Of course, that could be because someone else was wearing them. Someone who looked a

hell of a lot like Zach, who was standing in front of the fridge, drinking milk out of the

carton. Adam squinted, wishing he knew where the fuck he'd left his little, wire-framed

glasses. Contacts were Hell on hung over eyes.

"Are those my sweats?"

"Not any more." Zach's voice was just a rumble, damn near a growl.

Fuckhead. Adam went over and took the milk, wiping off the carton and putting it away.

"Get a damned glass. Nothin' worse than backwash in the milk."

"Bitch." Zach moved over to the coffee maker, started the water running. "You're such a

girl."

Adam looked at Zach. Maybe did a little growling of his own. "I am not. I just like the milk

to stay fresh a bit, and lord knows with you in it, it will sour." This kind of sparring was the

best hangover remedy ever.

"Not like I jacked off in it, asshole." Zach grinned over, tongue stuck out. Adam moved

fast, reaching for Zach's tongue and just missing. He landed hard against Zach's side,

mashing him against the counter. Zach's hands landed on his hips, squeezing. "Watch it,

now. I need that asscheek."

"Yeah, I'm kinda fond." Still, he wrestled Zach back and forth a bit, feeling the last of his

hangover slide away.

Zach chuckled, pushing right back. One hand covered his ass, fingers playing with the edge

of a little hole at the corner of his pocket.

"Don't you ruin my good jeans, asshole." He twisted at the waist, turned Zach hard, trying

to take him down.

The motion made Zach grab tighter, the denim of his jeans ripping a little. "Careful, pretty

boy. Your butt's gonna show."

"Pretty boy." Adam snorted. Yeah, it took one to know one. He grunted, really putting

effort into it now, calling on the old wrestling and football training and heaving.

Lucky for him he knew the secret to Zach's trick knee. Nothing like a line drive into a man's

kneecap to fuck up the world. Zach started to go down, and Adam managed not to go down

too, losing only his good pair of jeans, that hole getting pretty damned big.

"Goddamn." Zach hit the floor, sliding down his body to slow the fall. "You need to learn

new tricks, man."

"Why the Hell should I when the old ones work like a charm?" He grinned down, rubbing

his knuckles over Zach's head.

"No noogies, butthead." Zach chuckled, leaned in and bit his belly, teeth stinging.

"Behave." Not that he really wanted good behavior. That bite zinged right to his cock,

making it fill and lift.

"Make me." Zach nuzzled in, stubble scratching at his skin.

Oh, shit. That felt good. His hands tickled Zach's chin as he undid the button and zipper on

the hanging jeans, pulling his cock out. It rubbed against Zach's cheek, little shivers of

sensation rocking him as that morning beard growth scraped him. His hands slid up to cup

Zach's cheeks, fingers pressing at the edges of Zach's mouth to open it.

"Greedy." Zach nipped at his fingers, dark eyes staring up at him, hungry as fuck.

"Where you're concerned? You better believe it." His voice went all low and growly; he

needed Zach something fierce. Now. One hand slid behind Zach's head, pushing. "Now."

"Say please." That tongue teased his cock head, his slit. Pushy, teasing bastard.

He pressed his hips forward, insisting instead of asking, his prick rubbing over Zach's lips.

Zach's hands wrapped around his hips, fingers on his thighs, tongue flicking and lapping

him, driving him crazy. Fuck. Yes. Zach's lips were soft, wet, his cheeks rough; the hair at

the back of his neck needed a trim. Adam felt all of it, felt the air cooling his cock as Zach

pulled back. God, it was good.

Those eyes shone at him, hotter than the midday sun. "Feel good?"

"You know it does. You know I love your mouth, Zach. You know it." All of the muscles

in his belly and thighs were like stone, sweat rising up on his skin.

"I know. Sounds good when you admit it." Zach leaned in, licked his hip, his belly, then

backed away and dropped down over his prick like a ton of bricks.

A grunt pushed right out of his chest, loud in the kitchen, ringing off the walls. He thrust

hard, knowing Zach could take it, knowing Zach could always take him. Fuck, that mouth

— hot and sure, able to suck-start a leaf blower. Every thrust in, Zach swallowed, pulled

him in a little deeper.

"Oh, God." God, he loved that, loved the wetness, the heat, loved how Zach knew that

touching the small of his back that way made him crazy. Zach hummed, the vibration

settling in the pit of his belly, drawing his balls up tight. He was gonna. He was so gonna.

Adam rolled his hips, breath coming short, looking down and meeting dark eyes that

looked just like his as he came hard, shooting deep into Zach's throat.

Zach took him in, throat working, fingers coming around to massage his balls, roll them.

"Oh. Damn." His heart was just pounding, and he felt so damned good that he didn't even

mind the ripped jeans. "Better than milk out of the carton?"

That tongue slid right up his cock, hot as all get out.

"Fuck, Zach. You're good." It wouldn't kill him to admit it once in a while.

The laughter tickled him, slid along his skin. "Taste damn fine, mister. Damn fine."

"Good. Come here and let me taste you." He leaned down, got a good hold under Zach's

armpits and hauled him up. That floor had to be hard on the bum knee.

"Watch it, old man. You might strain something." Zach pushed right up against him, leaned

in for a kiss, all bittersalt and heat.

He took the kiss, let Zach lead, let that tongue in to explore his mouth. He waited until they

came up for breath to pinch Zach's ass. "All of what? Fifteen minutes older than you?"

"Fifteen and a half. God knows you lorded it over me enough." Zach was hot, hard against

his hip, lips swollen and sweet.

He bit hard into Zach's lower lip, surprising him, needing to feel the jump in Zach's heart,

the hitch in his breathing. "What do you want?"

"Oh. Fuck. You." Zach growled, groaned into his lips. "Touch me."

"Where, man? Where do you want my hands?" This time he bit Zach's neck, tasting salty

sweat, feeling a bruise rise under his mouth.

Zach arched, grabbed his hand and pushed it against that full, stiff prick, hips jerking.

Adam pushed the sweats, his sweats, down and wrapped his hand around Zach's sweet

cock, stroking hard and fast. He knew exactly what kind of pressure to use, exactly the

speed.

"Yes…" Those hips drove Zach against his palm, the sounds pouring from his twin raw as

fuck. "'s so fucking good."

"A fine good morning." They smiled at each other, so easy, so right, and Adam kissed Zach

deep, fucking that hot mouth with his tongue as he pumped Zach's cock, played with Zack's

balls. Zack grunted, heat spraying over his fingers, right as rain, just giving it up for him.

"Mmm. You just came all over my sweats." Adam winked, brought his hand up to lick it

clean.

"My sweats now." Zack's tongue slid against his own.

"Yeah. Like pissing on 'em. You marked your territory." Fuck, Zach smelled good.

"More like you wore mine out to play with the dogs and Goliath bit a hole in the butt."

Zach smiled, winked at him. "Want some coffee?"

"Yeah. I'll make waffles."

"Ooooh!" That got him another kiss, deep and toothy. "I think we have sausage, too."

"Cool. Get it out and I'll fry it up. And put the syrup in the microwave." They moved easily

around the kitchen together, and as the coffee started perking, Adam remembered his

hangover. Damn, Zach was good for what ailed him.

Even if he was a sweatpant thief.

***

The dogs were going absolutely apeshit when he pulled in from work, so Zach pulled the

bones from the grocery bags before he even opened the truck door. "There, beasts!

Bones."

He looked for Adam's Jeep. Nope. Oh, fucking A. Ha! He'd get his ice cream sandwiches

all to himself. He'd eat two and hide the rest in the very bottom of the chest freezer. No

mutts begging for them. No Adam sneaking them.

Zach had one unwrapped and nibbled on before he got the door unlocked. Of course, he'd

just got the ice cream hid and made it to the sofa when he heard the sound of the Jeep

stopping right by the door.

BA Tortuga - No Place Like Home.pdf

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