Page 46 of Courting Danger

Chapter 13

Danger

Yelping, Danger sprinted away from the car and onto the grass, ducking and cringing as the spray of cold water followed him.

“We’re supposed to be washing the car, not me,” Danger snapped, zigging one way, then racing the other, only to encounter one of two hoses aimed his way.

The water stopped as Ocean looked at Pope, grinning. When Pope shrugged and started laughing, Danger knew he was in for a drenching. They unleashed a torrent of water he couldn’t outrun, not when Roan straightened from where he’d been washing their bikes and joined in the game of water tag.

“Oh my god that’s cold!” Danger bellowed as he made a beeline for the faucet, water pouring over his head, splattering against his back, and blasting him in the face until he couldn’t see where the hell he was going.

His foot landed in water, and his shin connected with the plastic rim of the bucket he’d stepped in before he tumbled forward, landing on the lawn with the three of them steadilytrying to drown him. With the car show tomorrow, coming on the heels of their meandering trip home from Tulsa, they were supposed to be polishing the vehicles, for fuck’s sake.

He finally sat up, sputtering, hair plastered to his face, with bits of grass clinging to his skin, after they got bored with their game and turned on one another. Ocean blasted Roan, so of course, he returned fire, while Pope took several steps back. Sneaky bastard. Danger glanced around, hoping to spot the hose he’d lost hold of when he’d gotten soaked, while Ocean closed in on Roan, despite the steady stream of water Roan shot at him.

Something twinkled at the edge of his vision, and Danger turned to see his hose lying beside one of the car’s rear wheels. With Pope distracted by Ocean and Roan, Danger dove for the hose, a blast of icy water hitting him on the side of the head, courtesy of Pope. Scrabbling on hands and knees, Danger made it to the hose and snatched it up, unleashing a spray of water at Pope the moment his hand closed around the handle.

They looked like drowned rats by the time they declared a truce, water dripping down their faces as they turned to see that Roan and Ocean’s war had ended with Ocean pinning Roan to the lawn, hoses forgotten as they made out with one another.

“I’d call that a stalemate,” Danger said, chuckling at them.

“Nope,” Pope said. “That’s what victory looks like right there.”

Ocean stretched Roan’s hands up over his head and nuzzled his neck; low moans spilled from both of them as Roan rocked beneath him, rubbing their lower bodies together. Since Pope was right, much like he always was, Danger replied by blasting him with the hose.

The brief burst of water startled him and left Pope sputtering and narrowing his eyes at Danger, who shrugged, snickering at Pope’s bedraggled appearance.

“Keep it up, pup, and you’re going to find yourself in a world of trouble,” Pope growled.

“Promise?”

Danger couldn’t tell which of them snorted, Ocean or Roan, but one of them started snickering too, breaking apart so they could sit in the grass and see what Pope and Danger were up to. Pope decided to play to their audience and sprayed Danger again, catching him right in the face. While he was blinded by the water, Pope snagged one of the hoses Roan and Ocean had discarded, and Danger quickly found himself on the losing end of an icy barrage.

Promise delivered, though not the kind of payback Danger had been hoping for.

In the end, sopping, dripping, and completely and utterly defeated at the hands of a more devious Pope, Danger let go of the handle, ceased trying to retaliate, slid to his knees, and offered his hose in defeat.

“Smart pup,” Pope said, accepting it and stroking his hair. “But I do believe an apology is in order, don’t you?”

“What kind of apology did you have in mind, sir?” Danger asked, winking as he licked his lips, hoping Pope had the same thing in mind as Danger did.

Pope cast the hoses aside and reached for the drawstring of the board shorts he had on, which was exactly what Danger had been hoping for. When his shorts pooled around his ankles, Danger crawled forward and slid his hands up Pope’s thighs, pausing to lick water from the exploding eight ball tattoo right above his knee.

Danger took his time following the water north, licking it from Pope’s sack as the man sunk his fingers in Danger’s hair, crushing the strands in his fists as he tugged. Half encouragement and half demand, with just enough sting to send a crackle of pleasure slithering down Danger’s spine. He suckedone of Pope’s balls into his mouth and heard him groan as his fingers tightened, yanking when Danger hummed around it.

Danger licked his tongue over it before peering up to see Pope with his head thrown back, chest heaving as he struggled to maintain control. Danger waited, drinking in the sight, taking a moment to glance over at Ocean and Roan to see their hungry expressions, eagerly devouring the display.

Oh yeah, they were getting off on watching them.

Curious and attentive, they’d squirmed closer, still side by side, shoulders pressed together, but well out of range of Danger’s reach, which was unfortunate. He’d have loved to lure them into participating instead of just watching.

Pope tugged, tired of being ignored, so Danger swirled his tongue around the head of Pope’s cock, still teasing, smirking up at him as he dragged his tongue along the shaft. He sucked Pope’s other nut into his mouth before licking along the underside of his dick, taking his time, until Pope growled, his grip growing painful in Danger’s hair, prompting him to quit fucking around and give Pope what he wanted.

As soon as he started sucking, Pope eased his grip and started stroking Danger’s hair instead, gently rocking his head to a slightly faster rhythm than the one Danger attempted to set, until Danger relaxed and let Pope fuck his face.

The feel of Pope’s flesh sliding past his lips, the slap of Pope’s sack against his chin, the rhythm steadily growing rougher, combined with the taste and scent of Pope overriding everything else, left nothing but static in Danger’s head. He was just there to be used, and it felt amazing, right down to the slightly bitter taste of Pope’s pre-cum on his tongue.

Pope’s hands controlled him, while drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, and choked sounds, half-muffled by Pope’s cock, were forced from his throat by every motion. When Pope came, his whole body went rigid, his grip growing punishingagain, only it just felt like electricity slithering along his skin, making everything feel wonderful.