Blood Brothers by Barbara Sheridan, Anne Cain Page B

The rain pattering gently against the barn roof seemed likely to hang around for a while instead of passing in the usual violent rush.
    Leaning back in his chair, he frowned at the canvas and tried once again to focus on the problem at hand.
    He’d spent half the morning attempting to capture the peaceful beauty of the meadow behind his house. So far, it hadn’t exactly turned out the way he wanted. Every time he tried to summon an image of the meadow, mental pictures of Cory kept getting in the way. Cory naked on his bed, legs up and apart, mouth open and eyes wide with orgasm. The thought made his jeans tighten.
    Paul trailed his fingers over his crotch, feeling himself harden through the worn denim. He looked around before unzipping his jeans, even though he knew there was no one to see. He pulled his cock out, closed his fist around the shaft and began to stroke hard, imagining Cory’s hand around him. His eyelids fluttered closed. He could almost feel Cory’s soft, wet mouth sliding down over his prick, those callused fingers rolling his balls and teasing his hole.
    “Cory…” His head lolled back, legs spreading as he stroked himself faster.

    The sound of the barn door opening made him jump. He shoved his still-hard cock back into his jeans and zipped up, heart in his throat.
    “Paul? You here?”
    Cory. Paul laughed. “Up here, in the loft.”
    He walked over to the open trapdoor in the floor, a little awkwardly because of the way his erection pushed against his zipper. He looked down; Cory grinned up at him from the bottom of the ladder.
    “Hey,” Cory said as he started to climb up. “You weren’t at the house, so I figured you’d be out here. Hope you don’t mind me dropping by. My tour got canceled ‘cause of the rain, so I thought I’d come see you.”
    “Course I don’t mind.” He shook his head at Cory’s soaking-wet state as he stepped off the ladder. “Got caught again, huh?”
    “Yep. But I don’t care. If it wasn’t raining I wouldn’t be over here.”
    Cory peeled off his dripping T-shirt and draped it over the top of the ladder, then stepped out of his sandals. Paul reached out and pulled Cory into his arms. Cory’s wet skin felt cool against his palms.
    “I’m glad you came over, Cory.” Paul gave him a gentle kiss, trying to resist the urge to throw him on the floor and ravish him.
    “Mm. Me too.” Cory’s knee slipped between Paul’s legs. He grinned and rubbed his thigh teasingly against Paul’s crotch. “Did I interrupt something?”
    “Um. I was just thinking about you, actually.”
    “Were you.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Cory snaked a hand between Paul’s legs. “And what were you doing while you were…” he leaned forward and ran his tongue over Paul’s lips,
    “…thinking of me?”
    Paul swallowed. “I was…uh…”

    “Touching yourself?” Cory pressed closer, massaging Paul’s erection through his jeans. “God, that’s hot.” He tugged Paul’s zipper down and slipped his hand inside, green eyes going hot and hazy as his fingers wrapped around Paul’s shaft. “Paul. Fuck me.”
    Paul tried to speak and couldn’t. He buried one hand in Cory’s hair, wound the other arm around his waist, and kissed him hard. Cory’s mouth opened under his, tongue pushing in. The water from Cory’s rain-soaked shorts seeped through Paul’s jeans where their bodies pressed together, but he barely noticed. Nothing mattered anymore except the feel of Cory’s body, the taste of his mouth.
    He stumbled backward toward the threadbare old sofa under the window, pulling Cory with him. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the cushions and he fell half-on, half-off the sofa with Cory sprawled on top of him, one hand still clutched firmly around his dick.
    Paul rolled over and pinned Cory with his body. He looked down at the man underneath him, at the tangled wet curls clinging to his neck and flushed cheeks, the golden skin gleaming with rain and sweat, and felt a