“You ready for more so soon?” Wood asked, sliding a couple of fingers against his hole.
He was sensitive, not sore, and yes, he was ready. Wood pushed the front of his lounge pants down and fisted their firm cocks. They both moaned and grunted against each other, sounding like a horrible bass duet, but unable to be quiet.
Wood had to bend his knees to put them at the perfect height to get them off together. Trent thrust his hips forward while holding on to the back of Wood’s neck. He clenched his ass as the start of his orgasm came on quickly.
“You must be trying to get me hooked on this.” Wood panted against his temple.
Trent opened his mouth to say yes, that he wanted Wood addicted to nothing but him, when a loud banging at the front door brought it all to a screeching halt. Wood growled as he slowly stopped his stroking. The pounding got harder and faster until Trent thought the person would break the damn door down.
“Why the hell does this place turn into Grand Central Station whenever I get my hands on you?” Wood asked, yanking his pants up.
“Beats the hell outta me.” Trent sighed. “You got on more clothes then I do. You go kill whoever’s knocking on the door like that, and I’ll get dressed.”
“Don’t put on too many clothes,” Wood said on his way down the hall. “They’re coming right back off.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Wood
The knocking started again, and Wood hurried and unlocked the door and jerked it open as a blast of cold air hit him in the center of his chest.
“It’s about damn time,” Mike fussed and barged past Wood carrying a large, red toolbox in his hand. “I know it’s Saturday and all, but sleeping after two is just plain laziness.”
Wood closed the door as Mike made his way to the kitchen. “What’s up, Mike?”
Mike paused with his gloved hand on the doorknob to the back door. “I told bighead that I was replacing those rotted slates on you guys’s fence today.”
“Oh.” Wood combed his hair back with his fingers. “I guess he forgot.”
“Forgot what?” Trent said, walking past Mike like he wasn’t even there.
“You forgot to tell Wood that me and Manny were fixing the fence today. You must want possums getting in the yard and eating the trash again.” Mike grabbed Trent from behind as he was reaching for his box of cereal and hoisted him in the air.
Trent wasn’t near as big as Mike, but he wasn’t a small man by any means. Trent kicked his legs as he tried to pry Mike’s hands from around his waist. “Get off me, asshole. Bishop likes your stupid horsing around. Not me.”
“I like messing with both of my boys. Bishop just gives me more of a fight than you do.” Mike laughed, quickly spinning Trent around and throwing him into a headlock. “Say I love you, Daddy, and I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” Trent snarled, twisting to get free. Wood saw the exact moment when the game went from fun to dangerous. Wood stepped forward, his eyes on Trent’s discomfort while he clutched at his lower back. “Ow! Get off me, Mike.”
“Say uncle,” Mike laughed, unable to see Trent’s pain since his big bicep was locked around Trent’s throat like the jaws of life.
Trent grunted as his dark brows almost touched together in anguish, and Wood had seen enough. “Let him go,” he ordered sternly. Mike jerked his head in Wood’s direction, and he made sure Mike saw the seriousness in his eyes. If he didn’t know how to roughhouse with Trent safely, then he needed to keep his damn hands off him. “Right. Now.”
Mike removed his hands and took a couple of steps away as Trent righted himself. “That’s what I thought,” Trent grumbled, rubbing at his neck. “I was just about to get mad.”
Trent continued preparing his bowl of cereal while Mike held Wood in an angry glare that was easy for him to comprehend. Shoot. Wood had a feeling he’d just outed them, but his reaction to another man with his hands on Trent in a way he didn’t like happened before he could stop it.
“Looks like I’ve missed a couple episodes of Trent’s world,” Mike said snidely.
Damn.
“What are you talking about?” Trent frowned, appearing confused.
“Nothing,” Mike gritted out. “I can hear Manny hammering, so I better get out there and help.”
“You guys need another set of hands?” Wood asked, still not liking the way Mike was scowling at him.
Mike eventually shook his head. “Nah. We got it. It’s just a few boards.” Mike paused at the back door, then turned to face him. “But we can use another guy tomorrow. Manny is repaving a driveway and—”
“Hey,” Trent grumbled. “I’ve been asking you for weeks for extra work.”
“If your back is acting up right now, then no,” Mike said with finality. “What do you say, Wood? It’s just one day, and the pay’s good.”
Wood wasn’t a fool—he knew what Mike was doing and what he was asking. It was a job offer, yes, but he also didn’t have the option of turning it down. “No problem. What time?” Wood answered firmly.
“Seven sharp,” Mike said. He finally broke their intense eye contact to glance at the back of Trent’s head. He wasn’t paying attention to either of them as he scrolled through his phone while he ate his Frosted Flakes. “Hey, bighead. Come bowling with me and Bishop on Thursday.”
Trent was already shaking his head no before Mike was finished asking.
“Oh come on, why not this time?” Mike huffed.
Wood studied Trent’s face, seeing right through his bored expression when Mike grumbled a disappointed “Fine,” then asked Wood to step out onto the porch for a moment.
“It’s cold out there!” Trent barked.
Mike raised his eyebrows, appearing shocked at Trent’s tone… and concern. Trent’s face flamed a warm pink as he slowly turned back to his breakfast.
“Just a quick talk. It’ll only be a second,” Mike reassured, smiling all white teeth as if he was secretly plotting something.
“I’ll be fine,” Wood directed at Trent, wanting to caress his cheek for worrying about him. He buttoned his jean jacket over his naked chest and slipped on his boots before he followed Mike onto the small porch, closing the door behind him. It was obvious Mike had something private to get off his chest. Wood had anticipated this the moment he’d taken interest in such a younger man. Wood gave a quick head nod to Mike’s best friend as he covered one of the gaps in the old fence with a new slate.
“So you wanted to talk,” Wood said, getting right to it. The brisk air was already cutting through his thin pajama pants.
“Trent is like a son to me,” Mike started, staring straight ahead. Wood kept his face forward, but he could see the set of Mike’s stern jaw and fierceness in his dark eyes out of his periphery. “He likes to delude himself into thinking that he has no family and that no one gives a fuck about him, but he’s wrong. Trent has a father, me, and a lot of brothers.”
“Understood.”
Mike slowly turned to face him, a sinister laugh escaping between his clenched teeth. He cocked his head to the side, studying him as if Wood was interesting, or crazy. “No you don’t. You don’t understand. So let me be frank.” Mike paused, and Wood could see the sincerity blazing in his eyes. “If you hurt my son, Wood… I’ll kill you.”