Frog Legs and Goose Feathers Read online

  Jake turned his head and pressed an awkward kiss to Devon's lips. "Love you, too."

  The sated, happy expression on Jake's face caused a fresh wave of warmth within Devon's gut. This time, it wasn't arousal, though. He knew it was satisfaction, pride, and even a bit of smugness.

  When Devon had first met Jake, he'd been a little worried about keeping up with his much younger, virile lover. Fortunately, that never seemed to be an issue between them. One look, one touch, and Devon was always ready and rarin' to go for his partner.

  Never had he thought that he would find such a connection with another... and soon, he intended to make it official.

  Devon pecked a kiss to Jake's lips as he eased off of him. Peering down, he watched as he pulled his softening, dark-skinned dick out of lover's pink-and-tan hole. As soon as his wet cock slipped free, Devon couldn't resist massaging the ring in which he always found so much pleasure.

  The differences in skin tone between his dark-brown fingers and Jake's pale body always caused his heart to beat just a little bit faster.

  Just damn.

  Jake moaned, rocking into his touch. "Shit! Are you starting another round?"

  Devon felt his prick twitch and was damn tempted to do just that. Then he heard Jake's stomach rumble. He grinned as he rubbed his palm over the smaller man's butt cheek, then squeezed his hip before resting his weight on his right leg.

  "Best not to, I suppose," Devon muttered, pain entering his voice as he straightened his left leg. Spikes lanced through his knee, and he grunted as he stumbled a step backward. "Shit."

  "Oh, damn," Jake cried, jumping to his feet. He quickly wrapped his arms around Devon's waist, offering support. "Your knee?"

  Devon nodded as he slowly stretched, bent, then stretched his knee once more. "Just a little strain." Slinging his arm around Jake, appreciating his lover's help, he smirked at him. "Definitely worth it, though."

  Jake beamed a grin back at him. "I'm glad." His expression dimmed. "I hate that our fun hurt you, though." As Jake's cheeks took on a pinkish hue, he added, "You always make me forget everything when we're together."

  Teasing his fingertips along Jake's jawline, Devon murmured, "I love that I can make you forget everything but your need for me."

  Dipping his head, Devon sealed his lips over Jake's. He pushed his tongue inside, relishing how his partner immediately opened to him. For several minutes, he lapped and teased and explored.

  Devon noticed the growl of Jake's stomach again, so he eased the kiss to an end. Rubbing the backs of his forefingers up and down his lover's jawline, he smiled down at him. The way Jake's green eyes were darkened with his passion, seeming to make them glow, caused happy butterflies to bounce in Devon's stomach.

  "Did I mention how happy I am that you made it home safely?" Devon asked softly.

  Jake's smile was huge. He glanced down at their groins pointedly where both their pants hung open. "I think that was obvious, but I like hearing it anyway," Jake told him with a laugh.

  Chuckling as he nodded, Devon eased away from Jake. "Touché," he replied as he pulled his slacks back into position, then straightened his shirt. "But I will add that I was worried about you in this snowstorm."

  After righting his own clothes, Jake told him, "I went slow and was careful." Then he winced as he shifted from foot to foot. "Still not used to the way your cum feels dripping out of my ass." Jake turned and headed for the stairs. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

  Devon barked a laugh, unable to help himself as he watched his lover hustle up the stairs.

  "Watch it," Jake hollered over his shoulder. "You'll feel it later tonight."

  "You say that as if it's supposed to be a warning or something," Devon called back as he limped toward the kitchen. In truth, the feel of lube and cum on his now-limp dick didn't feel so fantastic, so he planned to use a hand towel to wipe himself down. "Grab my wine from my office on your way down, would you?"

  "Okay!" Jake's answer drifted down the stairs to him.

  Devon made quick work of reopening his pants and cleaning himself. Then he tossed the towel into the laundry room before washing his hands. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out the steaks he'd been marinating and placed them on the counter.

  Looking outside, Devon winced. When he and Jake had planned this evening's dinner the night before, they hadn't planned on a snowstorm. He wasn't certain Jake would still be up for grilling.

  "Mmmm, the steak looks good."

  Turning at the sound of Jake's voice, Devon smiled as he watched his lover take a sip of his wine before placing it on the counter. After Jake had turned twenty-one, they'd discovered he still didn't care much for beer. He did enjoy various types of wine with Devon though, although he tended to avoid anything too sweet, such as ice or dessert wines.

  "Want a glass?" Devon asked, tipping his chin toward the stemware. "It's a shiraz. And are you still okay to grill? I can cook them in the broiler." They wouldn't taste quite the same, but they would still be good.

  Jake wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, don't even talk about ruining those fantastic cuts of ribeye. I'll grill." He wandered to the laundry room and grabbed his coat and boots, then returned. "Yeah. I'll have a glass. Be right back."

  Devon turned toward the cupboard and grabbed another glass, using the move to hide his smirk. He loved his man, no matter the fact that he was a grill snob. Just that summer when Devon's propane grill had crapped out, instead of fixing it, Jake had convinced him to get a fancy electric style, so he could use flavored wood chips to enhance the flavor of the meat even more.

  As long as my man is happy.

  After setting the wine glass on the counter, Devon grabbed the wine from the fridge. He filled Jake's glass, then topped off his own. Devon heard Jake returning through the sliding glass door that led from the dining room to the back deck as he put away the bottle.

  "I'll start the mashed potatoes and gravy," Devon told his lover as Jake took a sip of his wine. "Salad is one of those bagged ones, but I'll dice up a few peppers to add to it."

  "I can do that," Jake countered, joining him in the kitchen. "The grill needs a few minutes to pre-heat."

  Devon nodded as he pulled out everything they needed. As they moved around each other, he took every opportunity to slide his hand across Jake's abdominals or ass. He just couldn't resist touching his man.

  To Devon's pleasure, Jake returned the touches.

  When the meal was ready and on the table, Devon sat at the head of the six-seater table, and Jake took his customary place to his right. He touched Jake's hand, gaining his attention. Seeing his lover's questioning look, Devon smiled.

  "Thank you for being so understanding about the goose." Taking Jake's hand, Devon squeezed it. "A buddy is bringing an old dog house tomorrow, and we can keep it in the backyard, so it'll only be in the study until tomorrow."

  Jake sighed, then chuckled softly as he shook his head. "It was a shock, that's for sure." Flipping his hand, he squeezed Devon's fingers. "You're taking care of it." Then he winked. "Now, let's eat."

  More than on board with that, Devon released Jake, so he could use his knife and fork to cut his steak. Moaning softly, he relished the delicious food. As always when Jake grilled, the meat tasted amazing.

  Chapter Three

  "Shit!"

  Jake clenched his right hand tighter around the bowl the goose had been going after as he used the broom in the other to drive the bird away from him. When Devon had told him that he wouldn't have to interact with the damn animal, he should have known better. Over the weekend had been fine, but come Monday evening, Devon had needed to work late to make up for taking most of Friday off.

  That meant Jake had needed to feed the goose.

  As Devon had told him, his buddy had dropped off a large, old wooden box that he'd once used to house his bull mastiff. The dog had died three years before, so the structure had been sitting empty. Devon had cleaned it before moving the g
oose to the backyard.

  Jake had helped Devon clean and reorganize the study, which had been, well, gross. He couldn't imagine how nasty it would have been if the goose had been in there more than just a day.

  "Back up, goose," Jake ordered, using the broom to push the web-footed monster back toward his house. "Or you won't get fed."

  Even though Jake realized the goose wasn't mean or aggressive, its exuberance for its evening meal had caused it to nip at him a couple of times. On Sunday, through the dining room window, Jake had watched Devon grab the goose's neck just under its head. He'd shaken the animal just a little, then let it go.

  The goose hadn't gone after Devon again.

  Unfortunately, Jake couldn't seem to do the same thing... which led to using the broom.

  Being Tuesday evening and with Devon still at work, Jake was once again attempting to swap out feeding bowls. The one he carried was filled with the greens his lover had bought for the animal. He just needed to make it to the dog house.

  Of course, then Jake had to check the water, too, but at that point, the goose should be more interested in its food than in bothering him.

  To Jake's surprise, the goose ran to its empty bowl. It bobbed its head and eyed him with its beady black eyes. Jake approached warily, keeping an eye on the bird.

  "Don't you bite me, or I'm gonna whap you with this broom," Jake warned, holding the broom handle in one hand while carefully crouching to set down the bowl. As he picked up the empty bowl and took a step backward, he muttered, "Great. I'm talking to a bird."

  As soon as Jake felt himself clear of the possible threat, he lowered the broom. The goose immediately began wolfing down its food.

  "Geez, you'd think you were never fed. I know Devon filled this bowl just this morning."

  Shaking his head at himself, Jake tucked the bowl under his arm and picked up the water bucket. He dumped that one out, then trudged back to the house. After setting the empty food bowl on the deck, he tromped through the melting snow to the water spigot at the side of the house.

  Jake refilled the bucket, then returned it to near the doghouse.

  Once back inside the house, Jake toed off his boots on the back mat, then carried them to the laundry room and set them on the plastic mat there. He hung up his coat before returning to the kitchen. After washing his hands, Jake inspected his hand.

  No blood. Just a red mark. That's good.

  Jake knew Devon would have felt awful if he'd known his Christmas Eve supper had harmed him. Staring out the window, he watched the goose as it ate. As he took in the sleek white and brown feathers, he had to admit the animal was a nice-looking creature.

  God. We're gonna eat that?

  Turning away, Jake winced. He had seen Devon watching videos on how to kill, pluck, and butcher geese on the Internet. Jake knew he would never be able to do something like that. Jake figured Devon could handle it, though.

  Over the past summer, Jake and Devon had finally gone frog hunting. Slogging through shallow water in knee-high boots had been tough. It hadn't been long before Devon, as expected, had needed to tap out.

  His knee just hadn't been able to handle the strain, and since Jake was young and healthy, there'd been no reason to put such stress on his man's leg.

  Before Devon had settled on the edge of the shallow pond and took over bag-handling duties, he'd added four frogs to the sack. Then Jake had taken over the hunt. He'd nabbed over a dozen more good-sized frogs before they'd decided they had plenty.

  Jake had settled on the bank beside Devon, who tied off the top of the bag so the frogs couldn't get away. Then, under the light of a full moon, his lover had made love to him. Jake had enjoyed every second of it, even the grass stains on his ass that had taken two days to scrub off.

  When they'd gotten home, Devon had taken care of butchering and prepping the frogs.

  At that point, Jake had taken over and created a soak for them to sit in for the day. That evening, he'd made Cajun-flavored, beer-battered fried frog legs. They'd been amazing, and Jake looked forward to doing it again.

  Jake's stomach rumbled just thinking about the experience. His prick thickened, too, as his blood heated in his veins. He huffed softly as he made his way upstairs and into the shower.

  Thursday evening, Jake sat at the dining room table with his notes for a biology paper spread before him. While the paper wasn't due until after the New Year, he wanted to get a jump start on it. Since his last class had been Tuesday and Devon was still working, the quietness of the house made for a fantastic work environment.

  Jake occasionally glanced at the clock, wondering when his man was going to make it home. The time ticked away, and he buried himself in his work. He'd just finished his outline when his phone chimed.

  Picking up his phone, Jake answered, "Hey, hon. Everything okay?"

  "I'm sorry, Jake. I'm still at the office," Devon told him, sounding tired. "I finished up with the last client twenty minutes ago."

  "Okay." Jake glanced at the time and winced. It was already almost eight in the evening. "Wow. What happened?"

  "A walk-in came in. Well, staggered in really." Devon sighed. "It was obvious to me what part of his back was bothering him. I couldn't just leave him like that."

  Jake nodded, understanding filling him. "Right. Yeah. Sure. I totally get it." His lover, being a chiropractor, helped people for a living. He would never begrudge assistance to someone who so obviously needed it. It was what Devon did, and Jake loved his man for it. "Were you able to give him a hand?"

  Devon hummed. "Absolutely, although I can't say much more to you about it."

  "Of course. I totally understand." Jake did, too. His father was a detective, and he'd had cases he couldn't talk about all the time. "So you'll be home in fifteen? I'll get dinner started."

  "Afraid it'll be a little longer than that. I walked out of the office to find myself with a flat tire."

  Jake peered outside at the darkness and shook his head. "Terrible timing. Are you changing it? Do you need help?" While he worried that offering assistance to his man might impugn on his masculinity a little, Jake feared how painful it could be for Devon to crouch and strain while in such cold weather. His poor lover would feel it for days afterward. "I can drive down and give you a hand."

  Devon chuckled, the sound soothing and reassuring. It let Jake know his man hadn't taken offense. "I appreciate the offer, love, but I've already called Triple A. Someone will be here shortly."

  Unable to help himself, Jake asked, "You called Triple A for a tire change?"

  "Laugh it up," Devon teased right back. "The damn lug nuts are frozen, so they're bringing a torque wrench, and if that doesn't work, he'll have a breaker bar."

  Jake grimaced and nodded, even though he knew Devon wouldn't be able to see it. "Okay." He sighed. "I just hate to think of you stuck out in this weather is all."

  "I appreciate that, Jake. I really do." Devon let out a sigh, telling Jake that he was relaxing somewhere. "But I'm in the lobby at the moment, so I'm fine."

  "Okay. Good."

  Devon grunted. "There's the Triple A guy... oh, woman, now. I gotta go."

  "Love you, babe. Be careful driving on a donut tire," Jake ordered.

  "I will. Love you, too."

  Jake held onto his phone, listening, and heard Devon's line disconnect. Sighing, he returned the device to the table. Since he'd just finished his outline, Jake decided to pack everything up and start the essay the next day.

  He wanted to have a hot comfort meal ready and waiting for his man when he arrived home.

  After putting all his papers into his satchel and placing it in the office, Jake headed to the kitchen. He opened and closed cupboard doors, checking out what they had. It occurred to him that they needed to go shopping.

  Still, Jake found a box of pasta shells and set it on the counter. He then rummaged through the fridge for cheese, milk, and butter. Grabbing the pots and pans he needed
, Jake prepared to make homemade macaroni and cheese. He also grabbed a couple of cans of tuna and a jar of sliced jalapenos to dice up.

  One tasty spicy casserole coming up.

  Jake paused after filling a pot with water to boil for the pasta. He headed out of the kitchen with the intention of going to the living room, so he could turn on some Christmas carols. Humming under his breath, Jake glanced outside... and froze.

  A hulking shadow crossed the window. A second later, it appeared at the sliding glass doors, taking the shape of a man---a big man... in a ski mask.

  Before Jake could process what he was seeing and respond, the lock on the sliding glass door popped open, and the door was shoved open.

  "Merry fucking Christmas," the big man in the mask greeted maliciously. He held a gun in his right hand, and a screwdriver that he'd probably used to bust the lock in his left hand. "Get over here."

  Jake lifted his hands in placation as he slowly moved toward the man. "Wh-What do you want?"

  It was probably a stupid question, but his brain had frozen.

  Think, think. Damn it! There's a robber in the house.

  The guy's evil chuckle sent a fresh fissure of fear down Jake's spine. "What do you think?" He smiled widely, the look extra creepy with the way it appeared in his ski mask. "I'm Christmas shopping, and your house is the store." Then his icy blue eyes narrowed, gleaming in the light of the dining room. "Although, you're a sweet little morsel. I think I might have to sample you before I finish."

  Oh, hell no.

  Jake spotted his cell phone where he'd left it on the table. Could he reach it? Acting on a self-preservation instinct, he lunged toward the table.

  He didn't make it.

  As his attacker laughed, Jake felt pain stab through the back of his head.

  "Yeah, fight. I love it when you faggots struggle."

  Jake landed on his hands and knees and immediately scrambled under the table. His head swam, and he felt something warm trickle down the back of his neck. Feeling a big hand land on his ankle, Jake tried to flip over and kick out.