Safe Shores Read online

  Raising his head, Shane noted the panicked look on Seaman Recruit Barnett’s face.

  “Then get him some of the anti-nausea medicine.”

  “But he…”

  Shane arched his eyebrows. “Then clean it up.”

  Barnett groaned. “Yes, sir.”

  Shane watched as Barnett took off to complete his task. He wandered over to the steps that led back to the deck. He wanted to stand at the rail and watch as Astoria drew closer and closer. Closer to Kirk.

  Chapter Two

  The message from Shane that had said he’d be delayed had been a punch to Kirk’s gut. All of the practicing he’d done as to how he wanted to approach Shane had become derailed. On the other hand, he thought maybe the holdup might have saved him from himself. It had given him the opportunity to rethink his strategy. Upon reflection, it didn’t seem like such a smart move to burst out with fevered declarations of love the minute Shane set foot on solid ground after three months. He’d been overly worked up, anticipating his lover’s return too much.

  He chuckled to himself, running a hand over what Shane called his honey colored hair. He hadn’t trimmed it, even though it was a bit shaggier than he preferred. Shane liked it longer. Fiddling with the radio in his pick-up, Kirk found the classic rock station. From where he was parked in the Maritime Museum parking lot, he could see the Coast Guard cutter approaching. There’d been times he’d considered waiting back at the apartment for Shane to get a cab or a ride. That way, when he laid eyes on his lover for the first time in months, he would feel the freedom to clutch Shane’s body to him, grab his hair, kiss him until they were both breathless. But he couldn’t wait even one moment longer than was necessary to be near him. Their time was too precious, too limited.

  With his eyes still on the vessel, he tuned in to what the local deejay was saying. He caught the tail end of a weather report. It sounded like the first of the big rain and wind storms the area experienced every year was about to make its debut that night. It didn’t sound too bad—the gusts would only be between fifty-five to sixty miles per hour, sustained winds between thirty and forty—relatively mild for them. But he figured it wouldn’t hurt to pick up some extra food on the way back. Kirk had already checked the gas for the generator that was in the storage downstairs at his place and his stock of batteries when he’d wrapped things up at the end of the fishing season. If the power went out, they’d be set.

  At last, the ship docked and Kirk resisted the urge to leap out of the vehicle and run over to the pier. Already, fat drops of rain pelted his windshield and the silvery skies had turned much darker and foreboding. He waited, watched. A black late model sedan grabbed his attention as it pulled in beside him, along with an Astoria police issue SUV. Men poured forth from both vehicles. Two local officers—one he recognized, an old friend from high school—and two men in long trench coats strode toward the ship.

  The first group of personnel exited from the cutter down the plank and onto the pier. Kirk was done with holding back—Shane was typically with the first wave. The recruits and civilians would be the last to leave.

  After he stepped from his truck, he yanked the hood of his jacket up over his head. The rain fell in a steady stream, an obvious pre-cursor to what would likely be a lusty storm. He allowed the officials to move ahead of him and he immediately saw why they were there. Amidst the navy blue coveralls of the coasties were two handcuffed men who obviously didn’t belong. Kirk had heard plenty of stories from Shane involving arrests on the open sea, so it explained why Shane had been late arriving.

  There he is.

  A ridiculous thrill coursed through him. Shane had already spotted him and Kirk imagined that he could see the expression of happiness on his lover’s face, even though he was still at least fifty yards away. Shane’s short, dark hair was barely visible beneath the cap he wore, his navy wool coat shrouding him and preventing Kirk from drinking in Shane’s trim form.

  As he drew closer, Shane seemed to be saying his goodbyes to his fellow officer and friend, Lionel. They’d gone out to dinner with Lionel and his wife Mary several times over the years, along with the occasional barbecue. Lionel nodded and waved in Kirk’s direction and Kirk answered in kind. His entire body vibrated from nerves, his need to touch Shane on the verge of being painful.

  Kirk leaned against the truck, desperately trying to rein in his excitement. As Shane got closer, Kirk noted that his expression was as he’d imagined it after all—the warm smile on his full lips, the gleam in his brown eyes. Shane was such a fucking handsome man. GQ handsome.

  And here he was with a middle-aged fisherman in a town that’s greatest claim to fame was being named after millionaire John Jacob Astor and for being the location of the film The Goonies.

  What was I thinking?

  It wasn’t fair to put Shane in that position. He was still young. He could have any man he wanted. It wasn’t only his looks. He was a good person with a strong moral compass—kind, smart, genuine. At some point he might want to find a partner he could raise a family with and Kirk was beyond that stage in his life. He clenched his jaw. Kirk would keep his feelings to himself and simply enjoy the time Shane was willing to share with him. He’d already been so lucky to have as much of Shane as he’d had.

  “Hey, babe.” Shane’s grin lit up his face, his perfectly straight teeth exposed in a glorious smile.

  He reached out his hands and Kirk took them, squeezing. It was the closest thing to a PDA they’d ever participated in.

  “Shane, sweetheart.” His breath hitched a little. “God. I’ve really missed you.”

  It had sounded needier than he’d anticipated. He tried to back pedal somewhat.

  “Let’s get you in the truck before you drown.”

  He’d already released Shane’s fingers but Shane latched back on, tugging them both closer. Kirk met his eyes.

  “What?”

  Shane moved in until their bodies were almost flush.

  “Kiss me.”

  Kirk swallowed, his cock lengthening. No amount of masturbating could compete with his need for Shane. The edge was still there.

  “What about…?”

  “I don’t give a shit, babe. Kiss me.”

  Kirk nodded before he had a chance to think about Shane’s words and before his next breath, Shane’s lips were on his, nibbling, tasting. Kirk was aware that he hadn’t opened for Shane, that he was holding back because they were in public. Shane pushed up against his body, covering him from chest to knees. They were almost identical in height, the biggest difference between their frames being that Shane was lean, where Kirk was broad.

  Shane used his tongue to prod and poke at the seam of Kirk’s lips, the heat of Shane’s breath and the scent of his wet, salty skin more than Kirk could resist—he’d ached for him too much. After disentangling one hand from Shane’s, he grasped the nape of Shane’s neck and held him still as he took over the control, demanded it with his mouth.

  Kirk moved in again and again, changing the angle each time as he deepened the kiss, never loosening his grip on Shane. His cock was like steel, uncomfortable. The rock of Shane’s rigid flesh against his groin broke the trance and Kirk let go. He gazed into Shane’s hooded eyes, his pupils wide, the flush on his skin even more pronounced than it had been from the cold. They were still close enough that Kirk could feel the frantic rise and fall of their chests almost in sync as they brushed together.

  “Sweetheart.”

  The one word had fallen from Kirk’s lips almost in a gasp. He didn’t know what else to say. The corners of Shane’s mouth curled up a bit. He stepped back and Kirk loosened his hold on Shane’s neck. They kept their fingers laced together and Kirk had the sense that they’d just crossed an important bridge in their relationship. Shane kept his eyes locked on Kirk’s, the intimacy of the moment intensifying.

  Shane was the first to break the silence. “Can we go home now?”

  Kirk couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from him.
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br />   “Of course.”

  He tugged Shane closer again, whispering in his ear. “I need inside.”

  Shane groaned. “Jesus, Kirk.”

  Kirk nipped at Shane’s earlobe then let him go to grab his duffle. Shane lunged to take it back.

  “Oh no you don’t. I got this.”

  “Kirk…”

  “You can make it up to me back at the apartment.”

  He winked at his lover as he hefted the waterproof bag into the bed of his truck. The weight of it barely registered to him because his heart was lighter than it’d been for a long while. All of his thoughts from before had been pushed aside. There was no use dwelling on anything other than what they had together in the moment, because each moment with Shane was more precious than the next.

  * * * *

  Shane let the heat of the water soothe his aching muscles. Since his promotion, his quarters had greatly improved. However, they could never be mistaken for luxury accommodations. The bed he shared with Kirk was like heaven.

  They’d likely share many showers as they usually did when Shane was there, but he’d wanted the time alone to get himself ready for Kirk. He wanted to be clean inside and out, available for whatever Kirk wanted from him. His dick leaked, already straining toward his belly in anticipation. Each time they were back together after one of his tours, Kirk seemed to be more and more adventurous.

  All those knots he’s learned over the years while fishing.

  Anchor lines, floats—so many different ways to tie things. Wonderful ways to tie Shane up. It had been a game one night when they’d been comparing what they both knew about boating. There’d been a playful argument over who tied better knots and well…Kirk had won.

  He finished rinsing off in a hurry, tempted to tug one off to ease the edge, but ultimately deciding he only wanted Kirk to be the one to take him there. There was a knock at the door to the bathroom.

  “Come in, babe.”

  Kirk stepped into the small space, steam still clinging to the mirror. The apartment was located above a hair salon and antique store on Commercial Street, the historic main drag of Astoria. The building that housed the businesses downstairs and apartment units above was from the first part of the twentieth century. It was quiet at night and where Kirk’s place was located, you could get a tiny peek of the river.

  When it was dark, if they were in just the right spot, they could get lucky and catch a glimpse of one of the freighters anchored for the night. When they walked on the riverfront path, they were sometimes treated to an entire row of the enormous ships, the upper decks lit up like Christmas trees with multiple strings of giant white bulbs. If they strolled as far as the chain grocery store, the enthusiastic barking of the sea lions lolling on the docks could be heard echoing off the exterior of the market.

  “Hey. What were you thinking about just then?”

  The comforting sound of Kirk’s deep voice brought Shane back to the present. There was no rasp to it, only a tone as smooth as aged whiskey. Inhaling deeply, Shane knew he wanted to share his feelings with Kirk that night. He didn’t want to waste any more time waiting, getting cold feet. He wanted the rest of his life with Kirk to begin as soon as possible.

  That’s only if he…

  He shook his head as if to scatter his traitorous thoughts.

  “I was thinking about how much I love it here…uh, Astoria, I mean. It’s a great town.”

  Kirk gave him a warm smile as he approached him then gathered him in his arms. Kirk enfolded him completely, his T-shirt and jeans a startling contrast against Shane’s nude flesh. He held him. It wasn’t the type of embrace where Kirk caressed Shane’s body to build the passion. Nor was he clinging to him, or giving him friendly pats as if to comfort him. It was still. Vulnerable. Their heat combined, the thump of their heart’s shared beats, and Shane rested his head on Kirk’s shoulder.

  “You must be tired. Let me make you feel good.”

  Kirk’s voice had barely been above a whisper but it had been infused with a strong promise. It struck Shane then just how much he needed Kirk. The love he had for him was only one part of it. He’d just missed the waning years of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ at the beginning of his military service. But despite the mandated changes, there wasn’t a way to mandate people’s bigotry. Being with Kirk had made him braver, more inspired to fight for everything he believed to be right. The ability to openly be with the one he loved was right.

  Kirk slowly released him then picked up his hand, leading him from the bathroom. He gestured to the bed in the only bedroom. It was king-sized and took up most of the room. Kirk had already stripped the covers from the bed, the radiator keeping the room at a comfortable temperature.

  “Lie on your stomach and get comfortable.”

  Shane did as he was told, certain that Kirk wanted to tie him up, restrain him somehow. Kirk hadn’t asked him to raise his ass at all, and he wondered if that meant that Kirk didn’t plan on fucking him. He ached to be fucked by his lover, expected it. Whenever he had shore leave, it was something they both anticipated and longed for.

  The mattress dipped and the scent of a musky vanilla permeated the room. It puzzled Shane because Kirk had never been the romantic type. He didn’t light candles or play soft music when they made love. He would hold Shane down, slam into him over and over, bite his upper back, force his dick into the back of his throat and hold him there—but he didn’t recite poetry verses or take him to chick flicks. They were more likely to spend the evening doing raunchy things to one another then gutting a Coho salmon they’d caught out on the river to eat for dinner.

  Shane started as Kirk placed warm, slick hands on his shoulders. An odd thought of wondering why Kirk was lubing up his back passed through his mind and he chuckled before he could stop himself. Almost simultaneously he realized that Kirk was massaging him and that was where the aroma had come from.

  “Shh, relax. I wanna take care of you.”

  Shane swallowed hard, a wave of emotion welling up in his throat. Kirk used his strong fingers to push and prod at the tense muscles in his body. The oil smoothed the way and the slide of Kirk’s hands on his skin was heavenly. It wasn’t like Kirk. Not that there hadn’t been moments of tenderness—Kirk was a very thoughtful, giving lover. But there was a softness to his touch that Shane couldn’t recall experiencing with Kirk before. It was like the hug from a few moments before. It was unbelievably intimate. Not sexual—vulnerable.

  Kirk placed a gentle kiss at the top of his spine as he moved his hands lower, working the tight muscles, loosening him up, soothing him. Kirk continued lower still, manipulating Shane’s ass cheeks, parting them. He jumped when Kirk licked the inside of his entire crease with the flat of his hot wet tongue.

  “Oh God.”

  “Mmm. Yes, sweetheart.”

  He did it again and Shane moaned low, guttural. It was followed by a sigh when Kirk released his backside and continued his attentions by kneading the tops of his thighs. He wanted to protest the loss of Kirk’s tongue on his hole, but Kirk’s massage was amazing. If Kirk wasn’t careful, Shane would become spoiled.

  When he reached Shane’s calves, Shane cried out. It was painful, his legs so tight from being on the ship fighting the constant motion under his feet. By the time Kirk reached his feet, the pleasure had taken on a new form. Kirk pressed his thumbs into his arch, pulled on the toes until they cracked, embraced the entire foot, squeezing it gently.

  “Fuck. Kirk.” Shane mumbled the words into the pillow, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the sensations.

  He’d never been attended to in such a way, ever. Rutting against the sheets as soon as Kirk sucked his big toe into the heated cavern of his mouth, Shane worried that he would come if Kirk didn’t stop. The licking along with the scrape of Kirk’s teeth wasn’t helping.

  “Too good,” he groaned. “Ah, way too good.”

  Kirk released it from his mouth after placing a kiss on the ball of his foot then lowering his le
g down.

  “Never. Nothing will ever be too good for you.”

  This is sweet talk.

  They had endearments for one another that had developed over time. The words were so ingrained that their original meaning barely registered with Shane anymore. It wasn’t that they didn’t bear the same sentiment that Shane had intended, but they were a habit. The way Kirk was treating him, the way he was being with him—it was as if Kirk’s endearment for Shane had been renewed, stronger than ever.

  “Roll over. I want to do the front now.”

  “Kirk, you don’t have to—”

  “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t make me tie you up.”

  Shane let out a light chuckle. That had never been an issue—he was always willing to be restrained unless it was part of the foreplay where he mock resisted until Kirk overpowered him. His cock lengthened again, the thought heating him immediately. He brought his focus back to Kirk’s command and hoisted himself onto his back. He caught the look in Kirk’s eyes. They were filled with reverence, warmth. It was intense, but it wasn’t lust or desire. Shane swallowed again, confused by the change in the man. It had thrown him off his plan to be the one who opened his heart to Kirk.

  Does this mean…?

  Kirk furrowed his brow. Shane realized he must be staring at Kirk in confusion.

  “What is it, sweetheart? You don’t like this?”

  Shane shook his head. “No, I mean, yeah I love it. It’s just…”

  Kirk’s expression had changed to one of worry and Shane wanted to kick himself for interrupting what had been one of their most amazing nights so far. He propped himself up on his elbows then reached up to place a hand on the side of Kirk’s face. He rubbed a thumb across the stubble, then backwards to feel the scrape.

  “It’s all wonderful, babe, thank you. It’s just different from how you usually are, that’s all.”

  Kirk placed his hand on top of Shane’s.

  “I’m not being different.” He cleared his throat, a look of discomfort on his face. “I’m being more.”