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By SueN.,


DISCLAIMER: Void where prohibited by law. Not all customers will qualify for special rates. Not valid with any other offer. Always consult your doctor before starting any exercise or diet regimen. Your results may vary.

PAIRING: C/V. Yeah, I know, what a shock <g>.

RATING: NC-17, for explicit m/m sex

NOTES: This is a PWP. And a PASS – pure and simple smut <g>. It's loosely based on how hubby and I have spent several Saturdays this year, though, sadly, our exertions didn't end this way. We do have kids in the house <g>. Much thanks to RubyJ and Jean for the beta and the prodding … er, I mean encouragement <g>. Y'all are the best. And, Ruby, thanks for the title!!

ADDITIONAL NOTE: No Vins were injured in the writing of this fic. No, really, I swear. Poor boy doesn't quite believe it himself …

“C’mon, Larabee, quit messin’ around!” Vin prodded with more than a hint of impatience. “Y’ gotta get it in the hole!”

Chris blew out a hard gust of breath, increasingly frustrated by his inability to get the tip seated properly. Hell, it wasn’t like he’d never done this before! “I’m tryin’, Vin,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “But you’ve got to hold it steady!”

“What the hell do ya think I’m doin’?” he asked irritably, his muscles aching from the strain of holding his awkward, half-bent position. “Yer aim is off, is all. And it don’t help that ya keep jigglin’ it around like yer doin’. Jist find the hole an’ push it on in so’s we c’n get this done!”

“Hole’s too goddamned small–”

“Hole’s th’ exact same size as it’s been ever’ other time an’ ya ain’t had no problem gettin’ it in before!” Vin snapped, his own frustration flaring. “Ya need me ta get ya a sniper scope?”

Chris narrowed his eyes and scowled down at his lover. “What I need,” he growled, “is a little more cooperation and a little less lip. Not to mention a bigger hole.”

“I’m tellin’ ya–” But he broke off abruptly, knowing they were both hot and tired and frustrated, and dangerously near an argument. He drew a deep breath, held it a moment and then released it slowly, getting his temper under control. Then he studied Chris, taking in the man’s sweat-plastered hair and darkly flushed face, the tight set of his jaw and his clenched muscles. Recognizing all the signs of an impending explosion, he mustered a small, conciliatory smile. “Mebbe we need t’ take a break.”

But Chris raised his head sharply and glared fiercely at Vin, his pride stung by that suggestion and the implication behind it. “You sayin’ I can’t finish this?”

Vin sighed and shook his head, but wisely refrained from rolling his eyes; Larabee just never did take that well. “All’s I’m sayin’ is that we been at it a while now,” he said in a placating tone. “We’re both hot an’ tired an’ likely sore some. And,” he arched a brow, his blue eyes accusing, “at least one of us is gettin’ pissed. Y’ keep goin’ on like this, yer jist gonna end up damagin’ somethin’ here.”

“Oh?” Chris leaned forward and fixed a withering stare on Tanner. “I suppose you think you could do it better?”

Vin winced and raised a hand to brush the heavy mass of his sweat-sodden hair off his neck, wishing mightily for even the faintest breath of a breeze. Why the hell couldn’t Chris just get this done so they could hit the shower, grab a couple of beers and cool off? “Shit, cowboy, it ain’t rocket science!” he said in exasperation. “Ya jist plant the goddamn tip in the hole an’ go from there. What the hell’s so hard about that?”

“Fine,” Chris grated, angered that Vin should choose now to question his ability. “If you think it’s so easy, you can do it yourself. I’m tired of tryin’ to keep the goddamned thing up anyway. We both know it’s not gonna stay up any longer this time than it did the last, and we’ll just have to do this all over again.”

Vin heaved another sigh and pushed himself upright, grimacing and pressing a hand to the small of his back as the muscles there protested his change of position. “If we do, we do,” he said with a forced patience. “Hell, I’m as tired ’a doin’ this as you are. I’d like fer us ta get it up so good it ain’t ever comin’ down again! But we both know that ain’t likely ta happen, an’ there ain’t no sense gettin’ mad about it.” He winced again and arched his back, pressing his other hand into it to knead his strained muscles. “I do think we could use a break, though.”

Vin’s obvious discomfort broke through Chris’s anger and, for the first time, he thought about how long Tanner had been bent over in his awkward position. “Hell, Vin, I’m sorry,” he breathed as a twinge of guilt bit into him. A small, rueful smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Guess I am lettin’ this get to me, huh?”

Vin returned that smile with a lopsided one of his own. “Ya do seem a mite fixated,” he allowed, regarding Chris with loving amusement. He let his gaze drop to Chris’s right hand, saw the man’s fingers clenching and unclenching convulsively about the length of steel in their grasp, and sighed. He returned his gaze to Chris’s and arched a brow. “Yer fixin’ ta snap that thing in half,” he said wryly, then shook his head. “All this fuss over a measly screw.”

Chris stiffened and lifted his chin as indignation kindled within him. “It is not a ‘measly screw’!” he shot back, insulted by the very notion. He thrust his hand up before Vin’s eyes, showing off the wide head, study shaft and perfect tip of his prized … screw. “This is two and a half inches of titanium steel that I chose especially–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Vin interrupted, waving him into silence before he could launch into a detailed account of his obsessive hunt for just the right piece of hardware. “It’s a screw, Larabee, bought with twenty more jist like it from the Home Depot–”

“I did not get it at Home Depot,” Chris said stiffly, his sense of propriety deeply stung. “I do not shop for hardware at Home Depot–”

“Oh, that’s right,” Vin muttered, and this time he did roll his eyes. “Y’ only buy that stuff from Scooter’s Buildin’ Supply–”

Scudder’s Building Supply–”

“You an’ all the other hairy-chested men who cain’t stand the thought of buyin’ yer power tools an’ screws from the same place that sells Southern Livin’ magazine, tulip bulbs an’ them bathtub mats with the suckers on the bottom.” He snorted and shook his head. “God forbid y’all might have ta park yer pickups next to a Volvo with a soccer sticker–”

“Is there a point to this?” Chris interrupted in irritation.

Vin canted his head slightly to one side and, with an irreverent grin, said, “Point is, cowboy, it’s jist a screw. An’ the hole is plenty big enough fer it. An’ you,” he arched a brow, “need ta lighten up. I mean, hell,” he shifted into his familiar hipshot stance and jerked a thumb toward the minor reconstruction project that had somehow begun to consume Larabee’s sanity, “we ain’t doin’ nothin’ more here than puttin’ up a mailbox.”

Chris opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again as he suddenly realized just how ridiculous any argument would be. And how stupid it would make him seem. He glanced aside at the sturdy cedar frame they’d spent the past several hours repairing and reinforcing and felt a flush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. Hell, it was just a mailbox. Granted, this was the second time this month and the third time this summer they’d had to put it up after some supremely irritating vandals had knocked it down. And, granted, getting it up so securely this time that the little bastards wouldn’t be able to knock it down again had become something of an obsession with him. But it was still just a mailbox.

He gave a sheepish chuckle and shook his head. “I’m being an ass, aren’t I?”

“We-ell,” Vin drawled, his grin widening, “yeah. I gotta say, though,” he swept his gaze slowly over the man before him, admiring the way Chris’s sweat-drenched t-shirt and jeans clung to his long, lean body, “ya do make a right purty ass. An’,” he dropped his voice to a husky purr, “I do like it when ya talk about … screwin’ an’ such.”

Chris felt a sudden flush of heat that had nothing to do with the afternoon’s stifling temperature. The blatant seduction in Vin’s eyes and low, throaty voice struck his nerves like the lick of flame against tinder, igniting a fire in his blood. Forgetting the mailbox, and the frustration it had caused him, he dropped his precious titanium steel screw into the dirt at his feet and stared with undisguised longing at the man who was his torment and his delight.

Vin’s head was encircled by a sweat-sodden and faded red bandana, worn to keep his long hair out of his face while they worked. Sweat dripped from the ends of his hair and ran in rivulets down his face, throat and chest, soaking into the Dallas Cowboys muscle shirt that clung to him like a second skin. More sweat glistened on his sinewy shoulders and tanned arms and darkened the worn and faded jeans that hugged his trim waist, narrow hips and long legs. The jeans were threadbare at one knee, ripped at the other and, as Chris knew only too well, beginning to come apart at the top corners of his back pockets. They were Vin’s “project” jeans, but the only project that interested Chris at the moment was getting Vin out of them.

“Screwin’, huh?” he rasped softly. He stripped off his work gloves and dropped them into the clutter of tools lying forgotten at his feet, then started slowly toward his partner. “How d’ you feel about … drillin’?”

Vin’s eyes widened and a small, choked sound escaped him. Chris was advancing upon him like a hungry cat, green eyes dark and deep, and, despite the late-afternoon heat, he felt a shiver ripple through him. “Got anything … in particular … ya wanta drill?” he asked hoarsely.

“Oh,” Chris pursed his lips thoughtfully, “I’ve got an idea or two.”

Vin exhaled unsteadily, his eyes tracking back up to Chris’s sensual mouth and fixing upon the enticing dip in the man’s lower lip. Unconsciously, he licked his own lips, then slowly lifted his right hand and cradled it lightly to Chris’s face, gently brushing the pad of his thumb against Larabee’s mouth. “Always did like a man with ideas,” he breathed.

Another wave of heat went through Chris at that caressing touch and, stopping only inches from the younger man, he reached out and set his left hand at Vin’s right hip. “That’s good,” he said softly, raising his right hand to push the long, wet hair off Vin’s neck, “’cause bein’ with you always seems to give me … ideas.”

Vin stepped closer into Chris and slid his hand from the man’s face around to the back of his head, threading his fingers through the sodden strands of Larabee’s golden hair. The heat from Chris’s body seared into his own, igniting a slow boil in his blood. “Think I’m gettin’ a few of my own,” he rasped as his cock surged impatiently against the restraint of his jeans.

“Yeah?” Chris whispered thickly as liquid fire pooled in his groin.

“Well,” Vin trailed his hand down Chris’s head to his neck, then dragged it around and down the man’s chest and stomach, finally allowing it to stop over the fly of his jeans, “thought mebbe you c’d use some practice findin’ holes an’ … fittin’ things into ’em.”

Chris tried to speak but no words would come. His throat was every bit as tight as his jeans and, with Vin’s eyes lit by that predatory gleam and fixed upon him, it was all he could do breathe.

Vin chuckled quietly and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Chris’s in a feather-light, teasing kiss, then dropping them to nuzzle gently at his whisker-stubbled chin. “Y’ need a shave, cowboy,” he whispered on another breathy laugh.

Chris slipped his arms around his partner’s trim waist and pulled him close, delighting in the feel of Vin’s lean, hard body against his own. “And you need a shower,” he murmured, tilting his head to capture Tanner’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss.

Vin groaned and pressed himself closer still, opening his mouth to Chris’s gently insistent tongue and circling his arms around his neck, surrendering gladly to this man’s pull upon his body and soul. The mailbox was forgotten, the oppressive heat of the day disappeared. Nothing mattered, nothing existed, save the craving Chris inspired in him, the need that Chris alone could fulfill.

But Chris still retained a shred of awareness, and it now set off an alarm in his mind. He and Vin were at the edge of his property where it fronted the oil-topped road that ran past, were locked in an embrace in full view of anyone driving down that road. While traffic wasn’t exactly heavy through here, still he did have neighbors and they had been known to go into town on Saturday night. And likely none of them would be thrilled to drive past two men plumbing each other’s tonsils with their tongues.

He pulled out of the kiss and smiled gently at Vin’s soft sound of protest. “How ’bout we get the box mounted and take this inside?” he suggested. “Like I said, you need a shower.”

Vin’s mouth curved into a crooked grin. “You offerin’?”

Chris raised two brows. “You interested?”

“We-ell,” Vin cocked his head slightly to one side and frowned thoughtfully, “I reckon I could use some help.” He winked. “You scrub my back an’ I’ll scrub yers.”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “Hell, you are so easy!”

Vin shrugged loosely. “Could be. But at least I ain’t cheap.”

Chris stared at him in disbelief. “You can be had for a back-scrubbin’!”

“Nah, back’s only the down payment.” Vin grinned insolently and winked again. “Trust me, yer gonna have ta scrub a lot more’n that before you c’n screw anything inta my hole.”

“So,” Chris asked, “how’m I doin’ so far?”

They were in the shower stall, hot water cascading over their bodies and steam billowing around them. Vin stood with his back to Chris, bent forward at the waist, his arms folded on the wash cloth rack bolted into the shower wall, his head resting on his arms, feet spread slightly apart. Chris was slowly rubbing shower gel over his shoulders and down his back, his fingers stroking smooth, wet flesh and kneading sinewy muscles, his eyes feasting on his lover’s naked beauty and his thickened cock twitching in appreciation.

“Oh, Lord!” Vin groaned in ecstasy as Chris’s long, strong fingers dug deeply into his tired muscles and worked loose every knot of pain and stiffness in them. He lifted his head from his arms, but let it roll loosely on his neck, arching his back and writhing beneath Chris’s masterful touch like a cat being scratched in all the right places. “Almost makes havin’ ta put that goddamn mailbox up again worth it.”

“‘Almost’?” Chris repeated with a frown. “Only ‘almost’?” He trailed his left hand to Vin’s hip and gently stroked the wet flesh there, then stepped closer and bracketed his lover’s legs with his own, pressing his body to Vin’s. Raising his right hand, he parted the sodden mass of Vin’s hair and bowed his head, pressing his mouth to the nape of Tanner’s neck. “Guess I’ll have to try harder,” he whispered.

Vin exhaled unsteadily and shuddered as the feel of Chris’s warm, wet mouth and warmer, wetter body against his own sent spikes of heat shooting through him. “Oh, yeah,” he gasped breathlessly as his cock surged to hungry fullness, “h– harder’s … good!”

Chris licked, nipped and kissed his way down the column of Vin’s neck to the hard knob of bone at the top of his spine, then sucked hungrily at it. Still cradling his left hand to the other man’s hip, he slid his right around to Vin’s chest, finding a nipple and closing his fingers about it, pinching and rolling it into hardness. Vin gasped sharply and pushed back into Chris, driving his ass into Chris’s crotch and clenching his jaws as the man’s thick cock slipped between his cheeks.

“Jesus!” he hissed as the slow slide of Chris’s hardness against his balls sent jolts of electricity up and down his spine and along his every nerve. “’S a helluva … power drill … ya got there, cowboy!”

“You know me,” Chris whispered tightly, his left hand now seeking Vin’s left nipple. He rocked his hips slowly back and forth, fueling his own hunger as he raked his cock against Tanner’s balls. “Right tool … for the right job.” He nuzzled through Vin’s wet hair and found an ear. “Man’s gotta take pride in his work,” he rasped, then sucked Vin’s earlobe into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and teeth.

Vin feared that any more pride might have him coming apart at the seams. The slip and slide of Chris’s wet flesh against his own created a delicious friction that not all the water in the world could douse. With each kiss, with each caress, with each stroke of Chris’s dick against him, his hunger grew sharper, deeper, more desperate, his need for the man churning furiously within him and threatening to consume him from the inside out.

“Goddamn it, Larabee!” he spat, thrusting frantically back against the man. “Ya gonna fuck me or what?”

“Now, Vin,” Chris purred, scraping his thumbnails against Tanner’s nipples and delighting in the hard shiver that ran through his lover’s squirming body, “I thought I had to scrub your back first. You know,” he trailed a hand slowly down Vin’s chest and over his flat belly, “down payment for,” his hand wandered to the tender crease at the junction of Vin’s groin and thigh and stroked lightly, “screwin’ practice.”

Vin uttered a wordless growl and snaked his arms back around Chris, grabbing his ass and grinding his own into the man’s crotch. “I swear ta God, I’m gonna kill ya if ya don’t do somethin’ soon!” he snarled desperately. “Uppity goddamn yella-haired sonuvabitch, jist put it in the goddamn hole!”

Chris shuddered and gasped harshly as Vin’s increasingly frenzied movements against him sent his own need spiking and threatened to shatter his control. For a moment, he was sorely tempted just to give in and take the man here and now, but he fought back the urge with an iron determination. Vin had been taking just a bit too much pleasure in razzing him throughout the entire mailbox ordeal, taunting, mocking and otherwise finding his one last nerve and stomping it to hell with a malicious glee. He figured it was time for a little payback, a little lesson in the folly of messing with Chris Larabee.

He was gonna wring Tanner dry.

“Put it in the hole, huh?” he asked musingly. “Well, see, there’s the problem. Like you said earlier,” he swiveled his hips just enough to rake his cock slowly against Vin’s balls, “seems my aim’s been off.”

Vin whimpered softly and dropped his head back onto Chris’s shoulder, releasing hs hold on the man’s ass and sliding trembling hands down to his powerful thighs, digging his fingers into the hard muscles there. “Oh, God!” he moaned strickenly, suddenly realizing that Chris had every intention of stretching this out. Of stretching him out.

And then snapping him in half.

“Of course,” Chris slid his hands back up Vin’s chest to his nipples and dragged his fingertips one by one over the hard buds, “could be I was right earlier, too.” He felt Vin trembling against him, heard the inarticulate sounds of pleading escaping him, and leaned forward to press his mouth to his lover’s ear. “Could be I just need you to hold it steady while I … drill,” he murmured, then dipped his tongue into Vin’s ear.

Vin closed his eyes tightly and clenched his jaws hard, the cords of his neck standing out, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew he should put up some kind of resistance, offer some show of spirit, make at least some token effort to prove that he wasn’t completely in Chris’s power. Except that he was. And he knew it.

And Chris, goddamn him, knew it, too.

“So here we are again,” Chris breathed against Vin’s neck, his hands again straying down to the man’s groin. Yet while his fingers fairly ached to take possession of it, he carefully avoided any contact with Vin’s cock, still determined to make this last as long as he could. To make Vin last as long as he could. “Lookin’ for holes and seein’ if I can get anything in ’em.” He flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin just below Vin’s ear in a quick, cat-like lap. “Think it’ll go better in here than it did outside?”

Vin stiffened and groaned as that lick, quick and light as it was, touched off a thousand lightning strikes within him. “Sure h– hope so!” he gasped. Chris’s hands crept closer to his cock and he rolled his hips, desperately needing their touch against his aching flesh. But they only danced away, tearing a dejected moan from him.

God …

Awash in his own need, Chris ran his hands slowly over Vin’s body and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of the man. Warm, wet and smooth, supple flesh, taut muscle, hard bone; all of that and so much, much more. “Well,” he rasped, “maybe it’s time we gave it a try.” He reached down and pried Vin’s hands loose from his thighs, gripping his wrists and raising his arms. “Hands against the wall, Tanner,” he ordered huskily. He bowed his head and opened his mouth, dragging his tongue along Vin’s left shoulder, delighting in the taste of his clean, wet skin. “Assume the position.”

Vin tried to speak, but his breath had solidified in his throat. He tried to twist around, determined to capture that tormenting mouth with his own, but Chris’s grip on his wrists was too strong, the man’s entire body imprisoning his too securely. He dazedly wondered if the ATF had any idea just how effective its training in immobilization techniques was.

Chris braced Vin’s hands against the shower wall, then set his left foot just inside Tanner’s and kicked lightly at it. “Spread ’em,” he urged. Vin did so, and Chris had to bite back a deep groan of pleasure at the sight of his lover spread-eagled before him. Dragging his left hand around to Vin’s back and then sliding it slowly down just to the top of his tight, trim ass, he swallowed hard and reached with his right hand for the shower gel, thumbing open the cap. “Gotta make sure everything’s just right,” he said hoarsely. “You know how serious I am about … screwin’.”

Vin groaned and let his head drop forward, closing his eyes and clenching his jaws and fighting not to beg. Or scream. His hands were up above the level of his shoulders, his long fingers trying to gouge holes in the tile, his toes trying to do the same to the floor. If Chris didn’t fuck him soon, one of them was going to die.

Chris slipped his left arm around Vin’s waist but held his hand up and open and, with his right one, squeezed a generous portion of the thick gel into his palm. “There’s an art to this, y’ know.” He snapped the cap shut and replaced the bottle on the soap shelf with his right hand, tilting his left one down just enough to dribble some of the gel onto Vin’s thick, twitching cock. “It’s all in the preparation.”

Vin jumped as the gel dripped onto his heated flesh, then gave a strangled cry and shuddered convulsively as Chris spread the drops over the head of his dick with the tips of two fingers. Unable to help himself, his need more than he could stand, he began thrusting against those fingers, desperate either to fuck or be fucked before he flew apart.

“Easy, easy,” Chris crooned, laying his forehead against Vin’s shoulder and removing his hand from Vin’s cock, wincing at his lover’s whimper of frustration. He pressed his right hand to Vin’s belly and rubbed slow circles into it, trying to calm him. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Gonna take care of us both.”

“God, Chris, please!” he begged in a tattered whisper.

“I will.” He pressed a tender kiss to the junction of Vin’s neck and shoulder. “Just hang with me a little bit longer.”

“Ain’t got … no plans t’ leave ya,” Vin rasped. “Might kill ya … but I ain’t leavin’.”

Chris gave a throaty chuckle. “Romance lives.” He slipped his left hand to his cock and slicked it with the shower gel, hissing sharply as his own touch drove shards of pain into his needy flesh. His right hand he slid around Vin’s hip to his ass and then down, seeking the opening behind his balls. “Oh, yeah,” he whispered shakily as he rimmed the tight ring of muscle with a slow finger, “we’re definitely gonna need a bigger hole.”

Vin opened his mouth to answer but loosed a sharp, wordless cry instead as a finger suddenly pressed inside his body. He shuddered hard and thrust down against it, uttering a deep and desperate groan. Then another finger entered, the two working with agonizing slowness and igniting a shower of sparks behind his eyes.


Chris exhaled unsteadily and closed his eyes, dropping his head forward against the back of Vin’s and slowly stroking his own cock as he carefully stretched his lover’s hole. His breath came harsh and fast, his every nerve on agonizing edge, his need pounding through him in raw waves. When at last he felt the ring of muscle give, he pulled his fingers free with a strangled growl and replaced them with the head of his cock, then gripped Vin’s hips to hold him still.

“Time ta drill, partner!” he rasped.

“Just git it in the fuckin’ hole this time!” Vin snarled. “I swear t’ God– Shit!” The harsh cry tore from him as Chris slid into him, as his body cramped in protest against the invading hardness. But the pain was short-lived and was quickly swamped by waves of pleasure. “Goddamn it, move!” he spat through clenched teeth.

And Chris did, though with a slowness that was an agony all itself for them both. Restraining his urge just to pound furiously into his lover, he held himself to a carefully measured pace, pushing in gradually until he was fully seated, pausing for long moments and then pulling out every bit as slowly, holding himself and Vin suspended over a knife’s edge of excruciating, exquisite pain. In, hold and out, slowly, so slowly, taking Vin, making love to him, one heartbeat at a time.

Vin all but sobbed from the blessed torture. Chris filled him, threatened to split him apart, then withdrew, raking against nerves and wringing tears from his eyes. He was beyond speech, almost beyond breathing, could do nothing more than try to drive his fingers through the shower wall as he rocked back into Chris and impaled himself on his lover’s flesh. Then a long, strong arm wound about his waist, a firm hand wrapped around his cock, and what little reason remained to him vanished as lightning seemed to engulf his whole body in a searing flash of white heat.

Chris stroked and pumped Vin’s hard, thick flesh in time to his thrusts into the man’s ass, hand and dick working in concert to shatter his lover ever so slowly. But not even he, for all his iron will, could long hold back, could long withstand the demands of his own body. With each long, sure stroke Vin’s heat wrapped around him, engulfed him, welcomed him and beckoned him further, fueling his own fire, his own need. All too soon he was lost in that need, lost in Vin, and, unable any longer to hold anything back, began thrusting harder, faster into the man and wringing at his cock with that same frantic rhythm.

Thick, wordless cries tore from them as they moved together, bodies locked in an intimate, frenzied dance, souls forged by the heat of their joining. Vin braced his hands against the wall and pushed back into Chris, forcing the man ever deeper into him, then rocked forward into that tormenting hand, unable to decide where his greatest hope of relief lay. He dropped his head forward, rolled it to the side and threw it back, clinging to the wall or clutching at Chris, his body on overload.

Chris was in no better shape. Consumed by his need, he abandoned all pretense of control and let that need command him, driving desperately into Vin and working his cock with a hard and merciless hand, loosing the full force of his raging hunger upon his lover. He shifted his stance slightly, altering the angle of his thrusts, then gave a sharp, feral snarl and bowed his head over Vin’s shoulder, sinking his teeth into Vin’s flesh as he raked his cock against the man’s prostate.

Vin howled and drove back into Chris as twin waves of pain and pleasure exploded through him. Again and again Chris hit that sweet spot inside him, triggering volcanic quakes in his body and mind, and all at once it was too much. Hot tides surged through him and he howled again, then erupted in a shattering stream.

Vin’s cum spurted over his hand in thick jets, the man’s ass clenched hard about him, and Chris’s overwrought body could take no more. Again and again he drove into Vin, then threw back his head and cried out aloud as he shot his stream into Vin’s ass, bathing the man’s bowels with his seed.

For long, long moments they hung together, bodies cradling and supporting each other, their entire world reduced to this blessed sensation of oneness. Chris pulsed in Vin and Vin’s life thrummed around Chris, two hearts beating in a single rhythm. Then slowly, slowly, Chris withdrew from Vin and together they sank bonelessly onto the floor of the shower, limbs still entwined as they huddled together under the spray of the water. Vin dropped his head onto Chris’s shoulder and Chris laid his against Vin’s, shaking hands seeking out and gently stroking cooling, quivering flesh.

“Jesus!” Chris finally croaked.

“Yeah,” Vin whispered weakly.

Chris somehow managed to pull Vin closer still, no longer certain where he ended and the other man began. No longer certain such distinctions mattered. “Helluva shower,” he sighed.

Vin smiled faintly, easily able to feel Chris’s heart beating against his back, and wound his arms about the ones wrapped around him. “I do b’lieve yer aim’s back,” he slurred. “Didn’t have no problem at all gittin’ yer screw in the hole.”

“Guess I just needed the right hole,” he chuckled. Vin brushed against his limp cock and he laughed again when there was no response. “Think you’ve drained my drill, though.”

Vin sighed and nestled contentedly into Chris’s arms. “Reckon we could both use a recharge.”

“Hmm.” Chris closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, then frowned and cracked open an eye when he felt the cooling of the water falling over them. “Tell you what,” he sighed, raising his head with an effort and wondering where the hell his spine had gone. “How ’bout we get outta here before we both freeze, then recharge with some food? You do the potatoes, I’ll grill those steaks.”

“Sounds good,” Vin agreed, though he made no attempt to move. “Could use a bite of somethin’.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not feedin’ you in here, so get your lazy ass up and outta my shower.”

Vin snorted and shook his head. “Gotta hand it to ya, Larabee,” he drawled, “yer real good at this after-sex sweet talk.”

Chris grinned and gave him a playful nudge in the ribs. “I offered you food,” he retorted. “What more do you want?”

The water was definitely getting colder, stirring Vin from his lethargy. Unwinding Chris’s arms and reluctantly pulling himself out of them, he rose shakily to his feet and turned, then leaned forward and turned off the water. “A bigger hot water tank would be nice,” he muttered as a shiver rippled through him and goosebumps rose over his flesh.

Chris uncoiled his body and pushed himself to his feet. “Big, bad ATF sharpshooter,” he chuckled as he moved to Vin and wrapped his arms around him again. “Can’t even take a little cold water. And let’s face it, Tanner,” he bowed his head and dropped a quick kiss against Vin’s shoulder, “they don’t make a tank big enough for our hot water needs.”

Vin turned in his arms and arched a brow, fixing an accusing stare upon him. “Only ’cause yer so goddamned slow in gettin’ things goin’,” he chided. “Hell, I thought you never was gonna–”

Chris swooped forward and planted a sound kiss on his lover’s lips, effectively silencing the coming tirade. “Shut up,” he growled against Vin’s mouth. “Get out, get dry, get dressed, let’s eat. With a minimum of bitching.”

Vin pulled away with a huff. “Awful damn bossy, ain’tcha?”

Chris shrugged and smirked. “That would be because I’m the boss.” Vin shivered again, and Chris reached past him to push open the stall door. “Out. Now. You’re makin’ me cold just lookin’ at you.”

Vin narrowed his eyes and scowled, but obediently got out of the stall. “Then don’t look.”

Chris stepped through the door and watched as Vin reached for a towel, admiring the supple play of muscles beneath tanned skin. “That ain’t gonna happen,” he murmured.

Vin turned, grinned and threw him a towel. “Gettin’ ready fer round two?” he teased.

Chris regarded him warily, recognizing the glint in those blue eyes. “You got somethin’ in mind?”

Vin’s grin turned wolfish. “Was jist thinkin’ of another … project … we could work on after supper,” he said, wrapping the towel around his waist.

Chris swallowed hard, certain he was in trouble. “Oh?”

“Yep.” Vin tipped his head slightly to one side, ran his gaze slowly over Chris’s naked body and licked his lips hungrily. Lord, the man was beautiful! Still flushed from the shower and dripping wet, his long, lean body radiated a coiled power and tensile strength even when relaxed. Larabee was a fever in his blood, and that fever was rising again. “Was thinkin’ mebbe we could have us some beers an’ do some … carpenter work.”

“Carp–” Chris’s voice broke and he swallowed again, all too familiar with how Vin’s mind worked. He was definitely in trouble.

“Y’ know,” Vin turned away and walked to the door, then stopped and threw a sly glance over his shoulder, “we git hammered an’ then I nail ya.” He winked, opened the door and stepped through it into the bedroom beyond.

Chris simply stood there, holding his towel and and feeling a fresh surge of heated blood to his cock as he watched his lover’s towel-clad backside disappearing through the doorway.

Seemed that mailbox would be the only thing he’d have trouble keeping up with Vin Tanner around.