The Colors of Hate - 63

“Carrie was right; you’re several shades puce and yellow.”

Dean chuckled and sat up. “Gorgeous, huh?”

Kirby eyed him, taking in not just the bruises but the well defined chest they decorated. “Handsome would be a better word. Not the damage but the man, the face, the body.”

Dean ducked his head. He could almost feel himself turning red.

“You are you know,” Kirby told him with a smile. “Handsome and sexy.”

“Stop. I’m none of those. I’m just…me. Plain old ordinary me.” He raised his eyes to look at Kirby. “You’re the sexy one.”

“Not handsome?” Kirby asked with a look of mock disappointment.

“Well…your face is, but…” Dean patted the bed then began to unbutton Kirby’s shirt after he sat down beside him. When he was finished he pushed it back off Kirby’s shoulders. “You not too badly built, for a cop. No excess fat from too many doughnuts.”

“That’s a myth you know, cops and doughnuts.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow as he ran his hands over Kirby’s chest, exploring the well-defined lines of muscle. “In your case, I’d have to agree. At least from as much as I can see of you.”

“Subtle, not.” Kirby stood, his shirt sliding the rest of the way off to land in a heap on the floor. “I suppose you want to check out the rest?”

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. “I might.” He leaned back against the headboard, his hands behind his head. “Go for it.”

“Ohhh, you so shouldn’t have said that.” With a quick yank he pulled the covers down, taking an admiring look at Dean’s slim hips before he grasped his half-erect cock in one hand.

Dean gasped. Seconds later he groaned as Kirby knelt between his outstretched legs and bent to lick from the base up to the mushroom head, before engulfing it in his hot mouth. “Oh…my…god…” he managed to get out, gripping the headboard rails so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Kirby worked his cock expertly, swallowing him entirely, pulling back and doing it again, and again, until Dean was delirious with need. Then he sat back on his heels, looking at Dean, and winked. “You did say ‘go for it’.”

“And you took it literally. Damn. So what do I have to say to get you to fuck me?”

“‘Please’ works.” Kirby started to undo his slacks.

“Please,” Dean growled.

Suddenly Kirby found himself on his back as Dean finished the job of opening his slacks, taking his engorged member in one hand while trying to push the slacks down with the other. Kirby lifted his hips to make the job easier and kicked them off.

“Amazing,” Dean whispered, stroking his hand up the thick length of Kirby’s shaft.

Kirby chuckled. “It’s just a cock.”

“Just?” Dean slid down so he could lap at the leaking slit. “Ambrosia,” he murmured, sucking the object of his desire into his mouth. Kirby’s moans told him he was doing something right so he continued until Kirby gripped his head to stop him.

“Keep that up and I’ll be coming too soon.” Kirby pulled Dean up to take his lips in a hungry kiss that deepened as they plundered each other’s mouths.