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Scarlet Blackwell

selling soulmates since 2009

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This week I am reading...
This story was published in the All Romance e-books free e-newsletter, Wildfire, on 22 October 2010. It is a deleted scene from Beached Hearts, my novella from Dreamspinner Press.

Eli stood there under the water while Conor soaped him all over with a sponge. Sure, steady strokes, his other hand on a voyage of exploration, memorising Eli's body. He noticed each mole on his back, each dark hair which ran down the centre of his abdomen to his groin, the scar on his left knee. He stroked the pattern of bruises over Eli's left shoulder and across both hips left by the seat belt during his accident. He touched his wet eyelashes delicately with one finger and kissed both eyelids. He shampooed Eli's hair and rinsed it clean.

Conor felt like he knew every part of his lover's body. That he could draw a map charting the essential areas, each little characteristic marking Eli as Eli. He remembered doing something similar with Liam one time. But Liam had attention deficit disorder. He hadn't liked to be examined this way and wanted to cut to the chase, pushing Conor to the wall and stopping his explorations.
But Eli seemed to be lost in his own world, a slave to Conor's hands. He stood with eyes closed, his body undulating softly with each touch, almost swaying on his feet, his cock resting half-hard against his leg. His body made it clear Conor could carry on doing this all night if he so desired, that Eli was a willing participant to the experiment.

"Are you still sore?" Conor asked because Eli had to have still been suffering from whiplash and Conor noticed he moved gingerly on occasion. Usually those occasions after Conor had fucked him.

"Stiff," Eli replied. "And my head hurts."

Conor kissed the bruise and the neat blue line of stitches on his forehead. "I'll get you some painkillers when we get out."

He took Eli in his arms. He held him close, cradling his head, lips grazing his temple, wet limbs around him. Eli seemed to purr. He finally disentangled himself from Conor and took the sponge. He lavished the same sort of attention on Conor with hands and sponge and lips, touching every part of his body until Conor's skin sang with bliss, truly alive for the first time in his life.

This was what he had missed. Being touched by another person, not the kind of dirty sex Liam provided. Being touched, kissed and held.

Eli's lips sucked at the curve of his ear and the lobe. "You're so beautiful," he murmured almost reverently.

Conor tensed in surprise. No one had ever said this to him before. Could it be true? Eli didn't have a reason to lie. He turned around to look into Eli's eyes. His lover was the beautiful one. His beauty was like looking on a celestial being. It blinded Conor. Eli smiled, his palm smoothing over Conor's cheek. "You don't believe me. Didn't you say they always ask you to pose for the naked cop calendar?"

Conor smiled wryly.

"I think you should do it next year. Christ, that would make my whole decade. You can leave your hat on. Perhaps just have your belt with cuffs hanging on it, brandish your baton semi-threateningly, that sort of thing..." Eli groaned lasciviously.

Conor caught him by the hips and squeezed him. "You've got a uniform fetish," he accused, laughing. "That's why you've chased me the way you have."

"Maybe." Eli tried to look innocent and failed.

"You're unbelievable. Are you going to have me fucking you in uniform from now on?"

"Possibly." Eli's hand moved into Conor's groin and took hold of his stiffening cock. "You already have though. That first time in your chair at the station." His teeth gleamed when he smiled.

"Did that excite you?"

"What do you think? Riding a cop in his chair at a fucking police station wearing his uniform. I looked down at where I'd tossed your belt on the floor and stared at your cuffs and baton, thinking about what you could do to me with them. It doesn't get any better than that."


Eli shrugged. "What? I have a healthy respect for the law. Conor's law." He grinned again slyly and pressed closer, his hand enclosing both Conor's cock and his own, sliding down both shafts together.

Conor shivered a little in excitement. He kissed Eli, remembering that first time, Eli's weight on his lap and the trembling of his body as he came.

Eli's palm rubbed over the heads of both their cocks. His other hand massaged the globes of Conor's buttocks. Conor bucked into his hand, liking the friction of Eli's cock against his own, the two erections sliding wetly together. Eli was breathing heavily, his eyes closed. He held their cocks tighter, pressing them hard one against the other, jerking them firmly.

Conor swore softly, hands on Eli's backside, lips on his neck, gently biting. He was close to coming but Eli beat him to it, stiffening and trembling before Conor felt semen hit his own cock and Eli's still milking hand spread it all over him.

Conor groaned, the extra lubrication exquisite, thrusting against Eli's still hard cock as he came, his own semen mixing with Eli's to cover them both in slippery white.

"Mmm." Eli's mouth nibbled at his jaw. "I love watching you come."

Conor leaned back tiredly against the wall. Eli reached for the sponge and cleaned them both up thoroughly.

They climbed out and dried each other carefully. Eli reached for the toiletry bag he had brought upstairs. He ran a deodorant stick under both arms and then he put some of Conor's toothpaste on a brush and began to brush his teeth.

Conor stood behind him towelling his hair dry, waiting for his own turn at the sink. Eli stood butt-naked bent over the sink, unashamed of his nakedness and Conor admired silently as he had many times before.

They went into the bedroom. Conor slid between the cool sheets in the dark and Eli joined him, leaning over to kiss Conor before he slid down, head against Conor's chest. Conor put an arm comfortably around him.

Eli sighed softly. "Best day of my life so far," he said in a whisper. "Goodnight Conor."

Conor kissed the top of his head with his blood singing in bliss. "'Night Eli."