He Took My Prison Sentence, So Now My Secretary Is Mine novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: Bay House

The bay house had a screen door that slammed, and Jud slammed it with his heel.

He had Yancey by the shirtfront before the echo died.

"You said you wanted to see the water."

"I did," Yancey said.

"It's dark," Jud said.

"I'll look tomorrow." Yancey walked backward through the kitchen, pulled along by his collar. "What's the plan?"

"I'm going to fuck you on that counter."

The kitchen was white and blue and smelled of salt and old wood.

A long butcher-block counter ran under the window, with the black bay beyond it and a single light blinking out on the channel.

Jud backed him up against it and kissed him, and Yancey's hands were already in his hair.

It was Friday night.

They had left the office at five and driven an hour with the windows down and the radio on a country station, and neither of them had said a word about the night before the lake party or anything else.

They had talked about tugboats.

They had argued about barbecue.

Yancey had caught himself laughing at something Jud said, a dry offhand remark about the mayor, and for a whole mile he had forgotten.

He did not want to think about that.

"Turn around," Jud said.

"Say please."

"Crenshaw," Jud said.

"I'm only learning from the best."

Jud's eyes glittered.

"Turn around," he said, "please."

Yancey turned.

He put his palms flat on the butcher block and looked out at the dark window and his own reflection, flushed, with Jud's tall shape rising behind him.

Jud's hands came around his waist and opened his belt.

He pushed Yancey's trousers and shorts down to his knees in one slow drag, and the cool air hit his skin.

"Stay just like that."

"Yes, sir," Yancey said.

"Hold the counter. Don't let go."

"What are you going to do?" Yancey asked.

"You'll see."

He heard Jud kneel behind him.

Warm hands spread him open.

Yancey's whole body tensed, and then a wet hot tongue licked one slow stripe over his hole.

"Oh, fuck."

"Quiet," Jud said.

"Jud, you can't, I haven't."

"You showered at the office. I watched you go in." A kiss, light, on one cheek. "Hold on."

The tongue came back, flat and patient.

It circled the rim, then pressed, and Yancey's forehead dropped to his knuckles.

Nobody had ever done this to him.

He had not known it could feel like this, shameful and intense, the heat of a mouth in the one place no one went.

Jud ate him out slowly, in no hurry at all.

He teased with the tip of his tongue, and pulled away, and licked the inside of his thigh, and came back to sink in deeper.

Yancey was making noises he did not recognise.

"That's it," Jud said, muffled. "Let me hear you."

"Don't stop. Please."

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