Page 23 of Cold Hard Cash

Cold bucked his hips rapidly, drawing his knees up for leverage as he tore Jimmy apart. His labored panting made Jimmy tremble all over, and Jimmy’s thighs burned as he struggled to keep up with him. He was certain that this was as close to heaven as he would ever know, every bit of his body and soul offered up for Cold to devour.

Cold took it all, every muffled cry and drop of spit, allowing their bodies to press closer than they ever had before. Even through the sweater, Jimmy could feel the heat of Cold’s body against his back.

Cold’s fingers slid from Jimmy’s throat to his mouth, teasing over his lips and swirling in the drool that had collected on his chin. His touch was positively reverent as he moved over the bottom of the ball where his teeth met the rubber. Cold’s breathing and growling reached a feverish pace, which meant the end was near.

Whimpering with need, Jimmy turned his head toward Cold, his eyes pleading with him for release. He wanted to come so badly it hurt, but not without permission, not yet.

“Go on,” Cold snarled, his hand returning to clasp around Jimmy’s throat. “Use all that pretty spit. Get your hand good and wet and then touch yourself.”

Jimmy groaned and nodded, wiping the drool up from his chest. He grabbed his cock and frantically jerked himself off. It was sticky and dirty, and Jimmy moaned shamelessly as the pressure became overwhelming.

Jimmy gave Cold everything he had, slamming his body down to bring them both over the edge. His hips bucked hard, going for broke, Cold’s hand tightening down on his throat as they writhed together on their way over the edge together.

Ecstasy exploded right before Jimmy’s eyes like a barrage of fireworks as he came, and he sobbed and choked on his own tears. Exhausted, his body gave out and he collapsed against Cold. He was dizzy, mewling as Cold gave a few more slams to finish himself off.

Cold grunted low, a deeply satisfied sound, and his lips brushed against Jimmy’s ear as his hand slowly withdrew. He removed the gag and gently petted Jimmy’s face where the straps had been. “Excellent work, Mr. Poe.”

Gasping for air, Jimmy smiled brightly, preening at the sweet praise. He was limp as a rag doll, and he let Cold lay him down against the sheets. He was totally worn out, but his heart felt full.

Cold moved from the bed, disposed of the condom, and fixed his pants. Wordlessly, he headed into the bathroom and shut the door tight behind him.

Jimmy stretched out his long body, moaning loudly to himself in pure satisfaction. He was a sticky mess, his body throbbing from being used so roughly, and he felt fantastic. He didn’t want to ever move from this bed. He remained splayed out on his back until Cold returned.

Cold sat down on the edge of the mattress, a washcloth in his hand.

Jimmy expected to take it and clean himself up, but to his surprise, Cold started wiping him down. The washcloth was wet but warm, and Jimmy practically moaned from the attention. Cold touched every inch of him, meticulous and thorough, erasing every trace of bodily fluids.

When Cold seemed satisfied that Jimmy was clean, he briefly touched his hair, murmuring, “I’d daresay you’ve earned yourself a little bonus tonight, Mr. Poe.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jimmy had never been so proud, pleased he had done such a great job.

Cold smiled at him, brief but uncharacteristically happy, and it was enough to make Jimmy’s stomach flutter. It only lasted a moment before Cold rose again and returned to the bathroom. The door shut, and Jimmy heard the lock engage.

Pulling the sheets up over himself, Jimmy wiggled his jaw to ease some of the tension. It was sore from being forced open for so long, but he couldn’t stop smiling. The sex had been incredible.

The rimming, the gag, and especially Cold allowing him to be so close.

The gentle way Cold had tended to him afterward made Jimmy’s very soul ache. He wanted to please Cold more than ever, longing to do anything asked of him just to get that kind of attention again. He could hear the shower going and wished he could be in there with Cold to help wash him.

It drove him crazy that he still had no idea what the man looked like naked.

His imagination ran away from him, fantasizing about a flawless chiseled chest and moist, dripping abdominals. Unfortunately, he knew he was too damn tired to stay awake and maybe catch a peek and see if the real thing could compare to his fantasy. He wiggled around the bed, getting comfortable, and closed his eyes. Despite his brain being the consistency of pudding from an evening of intense stimulation, he knew he had to talk to Cold about Augustus before it was too late.

Tomorrow.

He would talk to him about it tomorrow before the party.

Jimmy felt a yearning deep inside of him, and he realized that he didn’t want to lose the arrangement he had with Cold. It was about the money, he told himself. He had to make sure he paid off his debt. He wanted to be able to buy groceries, get his life together, and free his father from prison.

But his last waking thoughts were of icy blue eyes and a wicked smile.

No matter how hard he tried to pretend, he knew in his heart that it wasn’t only about the money.

Not anymore.

Jimmy passed out, not waking again until there was a familiar frantic knock at the door at a quarter after nine. He mumbled sleepily, flailing around to retrieve his robe. Cold was long gone, and Jimmy couldn’t say whether or not he had actually slept next to him last night. He’d slept so soundly that a bomb going off wouldn’t have woken him.

Lumbering to the door, Jimmy glanced through the peephole to see Lola’s frantic face.