Full Disclosure (Nice Guys 2)

“I’m gonna come.”

“Don’t want this to end.” Cody’s frantic thrusts slowed. Eager lips nibbled his neck, latching on to his skin and sucking. Mitch was absolutely sure that would leave a mark. Seconds passed as Cody lifted to his elbow, bright blue eyes locked on his, and Cody’s grip tightened at the base of his cock, denying his release.

“Kiss me,” Cody whispered. Mitch pulled Cody’s head down to him and captured his mouth with his. Cody’s body surged in and out of him as he pushed his tongue between Cody’s open lips. Their tongues convened, twisting and curling around the other. Cody’s intoxicating taste burst across his palate. Mitch stared into Cody’s eyes, holding his face between his palms, urging him even closer. And the slow roll of Cody’s hips had him arching his body for more.

Cody made love to him, slowly, purposefully. Deliberate, long thrusts, stroking him in time with the sway of his hips. The kiss eased, turned tender and loving, a soft brushing of lips. He was so lost to this man. Nothing mattered, nothing existed in this moment, except the two of them. He kissed Cody with all he had, making love tenderly to his mouth with his own. He tried to convey the feelings surging through his soul. The kiss ended with a soft brush of lips.

His orgasm churned heavily in his balls. Cody’s cock collided against his prostate, and he groaned as his lover increased the strokes on his dick. He hung on by a thread, needing to come, yet not wanting the pleasure to end.

Cody kissed his way to his ear and whispered, “Come with me. Mitch baby, come with me.”

“Yes! Cody…yes!” He erupted on those words, his ass clenching uncontrollably around Cody, rippling and contracting as creamy ribbons of his seed splattered against their chests.

“Mitch,” Cody moaned low as his body stiffened and his cock pulsed deep in Mitch’s ass. Mitch glanced up at Cody, their eyes locked, and the impassioned look reflected in Cody’s beautiful blue eyes wrenched a last soul-shattering spurt from him.

~~~

Cody rolled off Mitch who already snored softly underneath him. He slid the condom down his flaccid dick, tossing it in the trash can next to the bed. He lay back against the pillows, watching the ceiling fan as it turned in circles, and dropped an arm over his forehead and sighed. God, they had good sex. Actually, all the time they spent together was good. He and Mitch clicked, fell easily in sync with one another, and Cody felt the pieces of himself aligning when Mitch was with him.

That can’t be good.

Cody forced himself up from the bed. Mitch lay in the exact position he’d been in when Cody had finally let them both come. That was a trick he’d learned from Mitch himself. Apparently he’d been an excellent student.

Cody headed to the bathroom, turned on the warm water faucet at the sink, and grabbed a washcloth while he let the water run until it heated. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was different. He might not look different on the outside, but inside, he was a whole new person. Each time he’d been with Mitch, he came back a different man, a changed man, a better man.

The warm water splashed across his fingertips, and he used the wet cloth to clean himself. He thought about the kiss they shared as he’d moved so perfectly in and out of Mitch’s body. He smiled and closed his eyes, remembering the way Mitch gasped his name. God, he loved to hear that deep sexy voice utter his name.

Cody reached over and grabbed another washcloth, wetting that one, hoping he hadn’t taken too long. Mitch would make a mess if he turned over. He wrung out the cloth and went back out into the bedroom. Mitch hadn’t moved. He was passed out and snoring solidly now. That made him smile.

The cloth was still warm when he wiped across Mitch’s stomach. Mitch jerked forward, almost colliding with Cody’s head. He jumped backward as quickly as he could to avoid the collision. “It’s okay. I’m just cleaning you.”

Mitch looked around the room before focusing back on him. “I fell asleep.”

“I know. I was there.” He smiled and lifted Mitch’s arm to wipe his chest. When he’d finished cleaning Mitch, he turned back to the bathroom, but Mitch’s arms hooked around him.

“Leave it. Let me hold you,” Mitch said, his voice still thick with sleep.

Cody discarded the rag, carefully laying it on his nightstand. He reached over and clicked off the lamp, making the room dark. Mitch pulled Cody down as he reached for the duvet, tugging the cover up over them. “It took me a solid week to sleep right again after you left DC.”

Cody nuzzled the crook of Mitch’s neck. Mitch lay back, bringing Cody in an awkward sprawl across his chest. Finally, after a few minutes, Mitch settled. Apparently this was the way Mitch wanted to sleep. He lifted his arms and ran his fingers through Mitch’s hair. Mitch turned and kissed him.

“You’re perfect,” Mitch mumbled. Cody froze.

Perfect?

Mitch’s hold loosened and the snores were back in full force now. Cody slid to the side and Mitch went with him. That seemed to help with the snoring. Cody laid in the dark, listening to Mitch breathe until sleep finally took him too.

Chapter 40

The Eastfield Pentecostal congregation had already arrived. They were set up across the street from the First United Methodist Church scheduled to hold Derek Sinacola’s memorial service. Bullhorns blared. Large colorful hate signs waved high in the air to make sure everyone attending could see them even though the church was surrounded three deep with supporters. The Sinacola supporters sang the Marine hymn as loud as they possibly could.

Cody and Mitch drove in the family’s processional, as did most of the family’s friends, trying to keep the grieving family from seeing the hate spewing across the street, but it was impossible. The Eastfield congregation knew what they were doing and were there to be seen. As each vehicle turned into the parking lot of the church, louder voices yelled scripture verses as signs where lifted higher in the air. Mitch tried to read out loud the signs as he caught glimpses of them: “Soldiers-Die-God-Laughs, God-Hates-Fags, Thank-God-For-Dead-Soldiers. What the hell is wrong with these people?”