Page 18 of His Worst Crime

Now David’s hands moved down onto Ramon’s shoulders, feeling the firm muscle through his shirt. He pressed his hands against Ramon’s shoulder blades, pulling them towards each other, chest to chest. Both their cocks were hard and straining in their clothes, but the leather pommel of the saddle between them kept them apart. Ramon’s fingers lightly pinched David’s nipple, making him groan and squirm more anxiously against the leather. David broke their kiss, opening his eyes to find Ramon staring intently into his. They were panting lightly, as if they’d just run a hundred yards to find each other.

“Go up to your room,” Ramon said, “and wait for me. I need to take a shower. Then I’ll come up.”

“Yeah, you stink quite a bit,” David said, provoking a snort from Ramon. “My toilet gear and towel are still in the bathroom. Use them.”

Ramon nodded and stepped back, drinking in David with his eyes. David swung himself off the saddle and stood facing him, his erection tenting his trackies, the way Ramon’s was pushing out his dress pants.

“Go,” Ramon ordered, indicating the ladder with a nod of his head.

David turned and climbed up to his room, conscious of Ramon’s eyes on him constantly, on his ass and legs as he climbed. He liked that idea. In his room, he pulled off his jersey and sat on the bed. Should he undress or wait for Ramon? He heard him walking away down the file of boxes toward the bathroom. In the end he decided to pull off his tee-shirt and trackies, and lay back in the bed just wearing his underwear, a pair of sky-blue briefs with white piping. Being blond-haired and blue-eyed, they looked good on him. He’d thought so anyway, when he’d first checked himself out in the mirror after buying them. His dick was still hard and making a bulge in his briefs, more swollen even than before. It was the anticipation. He wanted to take hold of it, pull himself off a little, but in his excitement he might go too far. He forced himself to wait.

Looking at the photo beside his bed, he turned it face down. He didn’t want to have that conversation. What was he even doing? This guy was a cop. He should be pushing him away, not inviting him into his bed like some wanton whore. The waiting was the worst part—both the best and the worst. He tried to still his mind, not think about what he was doing. Finally he heard Ramon’s footsteps returning from the bathroom, slow and assured. The guy was taking his sweet time! David wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but of course he said nothing. He wanted to yell at him to go away, get dressed and go back to his horses. But he didn’t do that either.

Ramon came into the tack room and then he heard him on the ladder. His mane of dark hair, wet from the shower came into view, then his broad back—he’d returned shirtless. He climbed fully into the room, wearing just his slacks and shoes without socks, the rest of his clothes and the towel slung over one shoulder. He draped them over the chair and stood there for a moment, looking down at David. Then he kicked off his shoes. Neither of them said a thing.

eleven

David lay on his bed, looking up at Ramon. The man was tall and muscular. Without his shirt, his shoulders and biceps seemed even broader. Dark hair traced whorls around his pectoral muscles before descending in a tousled trail down to his belt line, covering his ripped stomach muscles in a sparse pelt. Ramon undid the top button of his dress slacks, which, as well as dirt from a night spent in the box with Estel, were now covered in patches of damp from the bathroom.

“Take ’em off,” David whispered hoarsely, barely able to speak. “I’ll lend you some trackies.”

Ramon unzipped his fly, never taking his eyes from David, keeping him captive in that intense stare, before he pushed the slacks down his thighs. He was wearing maroon boxer briefs that clung tightly to his thighs, offering up the thick bulge of his sex like something sculptural. It seemed to loom even larger if possible than it had before. He kicked off the slacks, leaving them crumpled on the floor, and stepped toward the bed.

David looked up at him, knowing that what they were about to do was the absolute worst thing he could possibly be doing, but knowing he was going to do it anyway. Ramon raised one knee onto the bed, positioning it between David’s thighs. He leaned forward, placing his hands to either side of David’s head and lowered his body onto David’s. Their lips, chests and sexes made contact almost at the same time. Ramon smelled clean, giving off the perfume of David’s shower gel, but also something else. He emanated his own unique musk, released more fully by the warm water of the shower, a strong, slightly bitter tang of sweat. Then Ramon’s tongue was driving insistently into David’s mouth, conquering and claiming him, his beard rough and rasping against the younger man’s smooth-shaved cheeks, his damp hair haloing his face on either side. His full weight pressed down on David’s body, crushing the air from his chest. But it felt right. Their hard sexes rubbed up against each other through their underwear as they bucked and rolled their bodies against each other. David’s hands found Ramon’s shoulders and then his back, before sliding down to where they cupped his buttocks through the fabric of his briefs, pulling Ramon harder onto his body, grinding their sexes together. His dick was hard, and he worried he might be about to cum. He hoped not. He tried to ignore how amazing the mashing of their cocks felt together through their underwear. He focussed on kissing Ramon back, making love to his tongue with his own.

Then Ramon pulled away from their kiss as his mouth and tongue found David’s smooth cheek, before moving down to the hollow under his jaw. He began licking, his tongue lapping, lightly making love to David’s throat, exploring from the dip beneath his earlobe to the tip of his chin, the tip pressing into the sensitive tissue of his neck and throat, causing David to squirm, turn his head and whimper at so overwhelming a feeling. Ramon’s tongue was merciless, driving harder against David’s flesh with the broad rasping blade, licking his Adam’s apple, as if seeking to uncover and dig out the pleasure from beneath his skin. His tongue and lips moved down, kissing along the line of each clavicle and palpating in the shallow hollow between them. Then Ramon’s tongue moved further south, exploring David’s right nipple, beginning to move in small, soft circles, as with his left hand he mimicked the action on David’s left.

His tongue moved to the other nipple as he supported himself on his left hand, bringing the fingers of his right hand to continue caressing David’s right breast, wet and shining from the action of his tongue moments before. David moaned and thrust his hips up toward Ramon, who moved to grab his wrists, pinning them with one hand above his head. But David fought free, bringing his hands down onto Ramon’s scalp, his fingers losing themselves in that thick black tousled mane, still damp from the shower. Without quite knowing what he was about, just responding to his body’s needs, he pushed down, sending Ramon lower. He felt the man’s breath hot on his abdomen, making those fine, almost invisible blond hairs on his stomach stand up. And then Ramon’s nose was nuzzling into the lump of his sex, straining for release from his tight stretched briefs. He felt Ramon’s lips and tongue tracing the shape of his cock through the fabric, his breath hot. He couldn’t last, knew what he wanted, and he wanted it now. Flipping his fingers under the elastic of his underwear, he pulled down, releasing his cock, which sprang up, erect before Ramon’s face.

“Suck it,” he growled, too impatient to wait for Ramon’s torturously slow seduction. He wanted the cop’s lips on it now.

And Ramon opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue. David felt the heat of his breath on his hard cock, on his balls, which felt full and ready to burst. He could almost feel his meat plunging into that warm wet cave of Ramon’s waiting lips. But then, as he was about to make contact, a cacophony of horn blasts came from the yard.

“What the—?” Ramon queried, raising his head.

Pushing him aside gently, David jumped up from the bed and sprang to the window.

“Shit! Carme’s back!”

“But she wasn’t supposed to be arriving till this afternoon, was she?”

“She’s here now.”

“Damn.”

Ramon stood, joining David at the window. They watched a battered cream-colored Citroen pull into the yard. “What do we do?”

“Clothes!” David answered, looking down at his own dick, standing out hard like it still wanted to play, and at Ramon’s, still tenting his maroon boxer briefs.

“Mine are filthy. Did you say you had some trackies, and maybe a tee-shirt, you could lend me?”

“Yeah, here.” And David was over by his pack, rummaging inside. “They might be a bit small, but they should do.” He thrust some dark gray track pants and a white tee-shirt toward Ramon. He was already getting dressed. “Come down when you’re changed. There’s some rubber boots in the tack room you can wear instead of those,” he said, nodding at Ramon’s dress loafers. And David had disappeared down the hatch.

Ramon stood in the middle of the room, feeling bewildered. Two seconds ago, he’d been about to have sex with that gorgeous guy, and now it had all turned to custard. Slowly he got dressed in David’s clothes. He was right: the track pants were figure hugging, emphasizing the bulge of his paquete, and a tad too short in the leg. The tee-shirt stretched tightly over his frame as if he were some muscle queen, wearing a shirt two sizes too small, which he was. God knows how he was going to greet Carme like this! Maybe with his feet in the rubber boots the whole outfit wouldn’t look too ridiculous? Yeah right. He swung down the ladder to meet his fate.

In the yard, David was standing talking to Carme and her wife, Àgata, beside the car. As Ramon came up, David slunk away toward the boxes.

“Hey, Carme! Hi, Àgata, good to see you! We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”