Rainbow by K.L. Savage

Ibegin to unbutton my uniform, and the exhaustion hits me like, well… a fire truck. I lay down on the bed, suddenly too fucking tired to even undress. It’s been a long damn emotional day. I’m mentally exhausted. Fuck, the last two weeks have been horrible. I don’t know how I’ve made it without collapsing, but we’re here.

I’ve collapsed.

After pulling people out of cars, dragging bodies out of ditches, and putting out electrical fires over the last two weeks, I finally have the next three days off. The aftermath of this hurricane was terrible. I never want to have to think about it again. I never want to bury two of my MC brothers while one casket doesn’t even have a body in it. I can’t handle not knowing who’s targeting us, and I sure as hell never want to hear the last call for a good friend of mine.

I can’t take anymore.

I just… I can’t.

It’s too much death.

I inhale a deep breath, and when I let it out, it comes out shaky and uneven. Taylor’s last call runs over and over in my head. I shuck my blazer off, then toss it on the floor in a useless mound.

I hate everything about my job and this MC right now. Of course, it’s temporary, but right now, the hate feels pretty fucking permanent.

That’s the bitch about hate, isn’t it?

One moment you’re sure you’re done with the world, with people, with life—and in the next, you know you can’t live without the same things you just said you hated.

Hate comes from love and love grows from hate.

I’m waiting on the love to come back.

“Hey, baby. What’s wrong?”

There it is.

There’s the love.

Ryan shuts the door gently, turning the lock in place to give us privacy. He’s still in his dress uniform, looking as beautiful as ever, and he drops to his knees in front of me. Those overly large green eyes blink up to me, his hands fall on my knees, and he begins to rub up and down my thighs.

“I’m processing… everything,” I admit, looking away and feeling ashamed. I shouldn’t look so weak in front of him. He probably thinks he made a mistake being with me. I bet Ryan wants an indestructible man. A man who can protect him.

I’m going to lose him, and I just got him.

“It’s been a long few weeks.” He begins to untie my boots and tugs them off, then sets them beside the bed. “It’s starting to slow down now, I think. We should be able to breathe soon.”

“When?” I ask, sighing when he yanks off the black socks. “We don’t know who killed Puzzle and Sherlock. Who shot Fox? Who fucking…” I can’t even say the words. “Who hurt Cosmo? I won’t be able to sleep until I have the answers.” I rub the back of my neck and stretch the muscle to try and relieve some of the tension.

“I know, but you know what? Fox and Cosmo are healing. I have a feeling you guys will catch the man behind this and give him what he deserves. Until then, let me take care of you?” he questions while unbuttoning my shirt.

I skim my hand up his arm. “I’d love nothing more.” I stop his hand for a second and bring it to my lips for a quick kiss.

The air that leaves him is wistful, almost dream-like, and it’s hard not to get caught up in the small sounds like that. They make me feel real fucking good, like how a man should feel. I’m stronger when he’s with me. Better. I’m somehow able to let my emotions out without him judging me.

I’ve missed out my entire life if this is how it is with a man—but then again, there’s a real possibility I was only ever supposed to feel this way with Ryan.

His love is meant for me.

It just took me a minute to find it.

His hands slide over the round muscle of my shoulders to take the shirt off. He slides the sleeves off one arm, then the next, and then his fingers tug on my belt. I stretch my arms behind me and watch as he slides the leather strap out, then yanks it from the loops. He tosses it behind him, wiggling his brows, which makes me chuckle.

“Ow, ow. I get all this sexy man meat to myself. I’m one lucky guy,” he jokes as he tugs my pants down and adds them to the pile on the floor.

“Now, all that’s missing are those tiny silver shorts I saw you in one time,” I say on a near growl.

“I only pull those out on special occasions. Like… strip dances for the Governor or President.” He lays the fake southern accent on thick.

I toss my head back and laugh. It’s loud, and it feels good. I don’t feel like I’ve found humor in anything lately. Leave it up to him to find a way to make me feel better.

“Can’t we pretend I’m someone important?” I ask him, my cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

His eyebrows wrinkle in the middle as he stares at me. Then, without looking, he tugs the black briefs down my legs and tosses them aside. “Rainbow, you’re more important than anybody I’ve ever known.” He bends down and presses a kiss to my leg since it’s the closest body part to him.

No one has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me right now. Is it too soon to tell him I love him? It has to be, right? I can’t imagine him anywhere else, and the thought of him being with a man who isn’t me has me seeing red. It makes me want to kill.

I didn’t miss how Kincaid looked at Ryan. Ryan is a gorgeous man with delicate features and a body that would make any man turn his head. Still, I swear, I’ll gladly kill anyone who dares to do anything other than look.

He stands and begins to undress himself, adding his much smaller clothes to the pile on the floor. Miles of soft skin comes into view, and I get the opportunity to watch his nipples bead as the air kisses them. His belly flexes as he dips down and removes his shoes, then shimmies out of his pants. My eyes hook on his belly ring.

That damn ring is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The gems are blue, which shines bright against his pale skin. He has a tiny freckle to the left of his navel that is just so cute. My hands latched onto his hips. My thumb brushes over his hipbone; the ridge is too tempting to resist. I bend down and press a kiss against it, blowing a breath across his skin.

He’s so fucking soft. His flesh has me hypnotized. I lean my head against his stomach, and I find myself kissing him again, dropping lower and lower. My nose is nestled against trimmed brown hair. I tighten my fingers against his skin and take a deep breath. When I release it, I close my eyes and kiss lower until the base of his shaft rubs against my bottom lip.

His cock is hard, elegant, and straight, with a pink tip.

I never looked at my cock and thought it was pretty, but his definitely is.

“Rainbow.” He runs his fingers through my hair and pulls my head back gently. “Let me take care of you.” He pushes against my shoulders. “Flip over,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” I obey happily and flip to my stomach. The mattress lowers as I sink into the soft memory foam. My arms stretch on either side of my head, and I wait to see what Ryan will do. Then he giggles and quickly pecks his lips to my ass cheek, and his touch disappears again. While he’s gone, my body becomes relaxed, weightless. My eyes close, but I don’t fall asleep.

I’m in a daze. I’m in a lightweight state, and it feels so good.

I hear the soft streams of music from somewhere. Nothing that I know, it’s instrumental with piano and violin sounds melting together through the speaker. It’s beautiful. I’ve never been the kind of man to listen to classical music. I like country and rock, but this classical stuff isn’t bad. It’s relaxing me further. If I sink anymore into the mattress, it will eat me.

The lights turn off, and finally, I turn my head to see what he’s doing. What I see brings a smile to my heart: he is lighting candles. I grin shyly and bury my face into the bed again. No one has ever done this for me. I suddenly feel bashful, as if I’m being wooed or something.

It feels good.

He crawls onto the bed and mounts me like I would my bike. Damn, which reminds me, I want to take him for a ride on it. I bet he’d make that bike look like porn. His cock settles between the crease. Feeling his weight on me is different—and not unwanted. I was serious when I told him I wanted to bottom for him. It shouldn’t be a one-way street.

I gasp as a cold glob of lotion is squirted in the middle of my back, yanking me out of my dirty thoughts. My cock is hard under me, and the friction from the comforter is making me leak precome onto the blanket.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

He rubs his palms over my back and massages the lotion into my skin, warming it up quickly. I groan as his fingers dig into the muscles and find a few knots.

“That feels so good,” I mumble, sounding high and completely blissed out.

“You deserve it,” he says, ending his sentence with a small smack to my ass.

I lift up. “Hey now, don‘t go doing things you aren’t ready to act on.”

He massages my ass next, which surprisingly feels fantastic. Who would have thought getting my cheeks rubbed down would feel like heaven?

“It’s one fine ass.” He continues to massage down one leg, then works his way to the other. His fingers melt my tense muscles into goo, and I groan again, but this time it’s mixed with sleep.

Ryan cups the globes in his palms again and squeezes. When he does, his thumbs bury into my crease, and I tense.

Not because it freaks me out, but because I wasn’t expecting it.

And I like it.

“I’m sorry. I—” he moves away from me.

I turn to my side and reach for him before he can get away. “No, don’t. I’m sorry. I’ve never… I’ve never been touched there, Ryan. It startled me, that’s all. I don’t want you to stop.” I lie on my stomach again, and with shaky, nervous hands, I place his back where they were. “Just be easy with me. I’m a virgin,” I joke, and the laugh that escapes me is kind of high-pitched.

I’m so fucking nervous. I am a virgin. Holy fuck, why didn’t I think about that sooner? What if I’m not any good at being a bottom and he doesn’t want to fuck me anymore?

“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on in your handsome head, but there’s no pressure. You’re all tense, and I just gave you the best rubdown ever.”

“No, I’m just—” I swallow to coat the dryness in my throat. “I’m nervous. You’re experienced in this, and I’m not. What if I’m not what you expected?” The pounding of my heart is so intense I can feel it tingle the tips of my toes.

“You’re going to be everything and more because it’s you. And don’t forget, I felt the same way because you had only been with women, remember? I was afraid you wouldn’t want me again. Straight men—”

“—I’m not straight, baby. I only want you.”

“And I only want you.” His fingers run up and down the crease again, slow without pressure. And then he’s gone, back to massaging my shoulders.

I’m… disappointed.

I thought we were going to go to the next level. I actually really need to. I need to feel him. I need to be close. I need… him.

Reaching around again, I take his hand and drag it down until his fingers graze my ass again. No words are spoken this time. He understands.

“I’ll take care of you, and whenever you say stop, we stop. Okay?”

I nod. “I trust you.” The reality of those words hit me like a wrecking ball. I have trusted people before, but never like this. I’ve never trusted someone to take care of my heart, soul, and body. That’s so much to give someone else, especially when half of the time they don’t really appreciate it.

But I know Ryan will take care of me. I feel that. I know that.

He opens the nightstand drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube. The cap clicks open, and I clutch my fingers around the pillows at the head of the bed.

I’ve been through a hundred fires. I can do this.

His index finger rubs around my hole. It doesn’t feel bad. It doesn’t feel great. I mean, it doesn’t really feel like anything.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. You can do more,” I tell him, not thinking anything of it at this point. Ryan loved this. Is there something wrong with― “Oh, fuck!” I dig my pelvis into the bed when he pushes his first finger in to the knuckle. “Oh my god. That’s your finger? Jesus Christ, there is no way I can take more.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums as if I’m right or wrong, I don’t know. He slides his finger out, then in, out, and in. It’s an even, slow pace that has me relaxing eventually.

Okay, that’s not bad.

He curls his finger and hits my prostate. I cry out passionately as a zing of desire settles into my aching shaft. I leak precome onto the bed and my belly while he continues to peg me. I moan, and I rut my hips back for more.

Damn, this does feel good.

He slips another finger in, and I tense from the stretch. I feel so full, and I happen to like it.

“You’re doing so good, baby. I wish you could see what I see. Your ass is begging for more while sucking on my fingers. So tight. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Damn it, Sassafras. You can’t talk like that. You’re going to make me come.” A hot sheen of sweat breaks over my entire body and my eyes roll to the back of my head as he pegs that magical fucking button again.

This is a P.S.A. for all men: fucking play with your prostate.

Nothing, I mean nothing, has ever felt so goddamn good.

I push my cock onto the bed, the comforter wrapping around the sensitive throbbing muscle. It shouldn’t feel so good, but with his fingers fucking me, everything that touches me feels electric.

“Can you take one more finger?” he asks, latching his other hand on my left cheek to spread me wide open.

“Yes, fuck yes, please,” I beg of him. My brain short circuits when a third digit fills me. I expect him to take it easy, but he doesn’t.

He fucks me.

Hard.

My cheeks slap together. My body is forced to rub against the bed, which in turn strokes my cock.

“That’s it. So beautiful, baby. You like that? You like being filled by me?”

Damn, I had no idea he was a dirty talker. I feel so… powerless right now.

And I love it.

“Yes, I want more. I’m ready. Please.”

“Please, what?” he taunts, hitting that spot inside me that has me seeing stars.

“Fuck me, goddamn it.”

He slaps my ass so hard it shuts me up.

He just spanked me.

“I’ll fuck you when I want, Nathan.”

I shiver when he says my name, as if he’s angry with me.

Sexual anger is the best.

Yes, take it out on me and have me feel the aches of your rage for days.

Ryan’s fingers slip free, and I arch my back, stretching like a cat as I search for him again. He’s turned me into a needy man. I’m empty, and I drop my head to try to understand my emotions. I’m so happy, elated, and safe.

I’m exposed to him, and I’m nervous, yet I don’t feel like myself. My head is jumbled, but it’s only because he isn’t touching me.

Ryan Hathaway has wrecked me, shattered who I used to be, and somehow has put me back together. He’s made me into the man I’m proud to be.

He kisses each cheek and settles behind me, then begins to drag his lips up my spine. Since I’m taller and bigger than he is, I have to twist to meet him. I expect a hard kiss, but his tongue is the first thing I feel as he slides by my lips and into my mouth. He strokes my tongue, teases it, and kisses me slowly until I’m gasping.

Damn.

He needs to top more often. I like this.

“You sure?” he mutters against me.

I nod and suck his lip into my mouth.

He rolls to his back and presses his hand against my hip to pull me over him. I’m confused about what he wants me to do when he grabs my thigh and settles me over him. My eyes widen when realization dawns on me.

“I… I don’t know….” I am so out of my element. I wish I had my confidence back. I feel like I’m sixteen again, making out with Serena Tuckleberry in the back of her mom’s car. One thing led to another, and it took me ten minutes to put on a condom. I kept tearing them.

I’m not that awkward kid anymore. I’ve gained years of experience in sex, and I became damn good at it.

Until now.

He holds his cock at the base. The flesh shines from the lube and the wide tip of his crown prods against my puckered star. I let out an anxious breath. When I see the pleasure on Ryan’s face, there’s no reason for me to be nervous.

I press down on him, and he pops through the tight ring of muscle. “I wanted you to have more control. This way, you set the pace,” he says while holding his breath. Those eyes begin to roll back the further I sink down on him.

My ass is flush against his thighs when I take him to the hilt. My sack presses against his stomach. He's soft against me, my round balls rolling over him.

“You feel so good,” he exhales on one breath. His nostrils flare as he inhales, and his nails dig into my thighs.

“So do you.” I don’t move yet. I adjust to him filling me to the brink. I feel ripped in two, but in a really good way. I bend down and steal a kiss; the slight movement jostles him inside me, and I moan down his throat.

I sit up and press my palms against his chest and give a tentative rock. “Oh fuck!” I shout when he brushes against my prostate again. “Ryan.” I toss my head back and fucking whimper.

I’ve never been the kind of man to whimper, but I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s making me do things I’ve never done.

“So tight.” The tendons in his neck stand out, and his hands grip my hips as I ride him.

Back and forth.

Up and down.

I take his cock harder and faster with every stroke, becoming more confident and more aggressive. I need more. I grip the headboard with my hands to use as leverage to fuck him harder. My cock bobs in the air and slaps against his stomach with every bounce.

“You fuck me the way I’ve always dreamed of being fucked,” he groans, thrusting his hips up to bury himself deeper.

I wrap one hand around his throat and lift him off the bed, squeezing his windpipe enough so he knows I’m serious. I don’t stop moving. I don’t stop chasing my orgasm. I sneer at him, “Don’t you fucking forget that I’m the man making your dreams come true.” I smash my lips against his then rip my mouth away violently. I shove him down onto the bed, and the headboard begins to bang against the wall to let everyone know someone is getting fucked.

He wraps his arms around me and somehow manages to flip me over in a smooth move. Then, he grabs my hands and pins them above my head, owning my mouth with his like he owns my ass.

“You’re going to make me come, baby,” he gasps, slamming into me over and over again.

“Me too. Fuck, me too. Touch me. It fucking hurts,” I whine, talking about my cock.

It’s red and pissed off from the urge to orgasm that keeps building and building. He wraps his hand around my aching cock. There’s precome all over my stomach, the crown is a deep purple, and the vein is bulging from how much blood is being forced in my cock, filling it to the brink.

I’m about to burst.

He strokes me in sync with his thrusts, and something inside me breaks open. I wrap my arms around his back and clutch onto him while he owns a piece of my soul no one has ever had before. He slams inside me one more time, planting himself so far he’s using his feet to push against the bed to get as deep as he can.

Ryan throws his head back and shouts, coming deep and filling me with his seed. Feeling him let go has me shattering. I explode and cry out his name, gripping his ass and holding him against me as we both orgasm. Stream after stream leaves my cock in raging bursts, drenching my stomach in white.

Being with him is by far the most intense experience of my life, which is saying something, considering I fight fire.

In this case, Ryan is the flame.

He collapses on top of me, my come sliding between our stomachs, but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he pushes my hair out of my face and kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, then my lips. We fight for breath, gasping, our desperate, hot puffs of breath combining as we breathe each other in. Ryan sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, traces the swollen flesh with his tongue before letting go.

I love him.

But is he going to love me and leave me?

I fucking hope not, but sometimes hope isn’t enough.

And neither is love.