Hands of Clay

Hi all, I hope you had a great week. I spent three days in Atlanta this week and though I was having fun, I didn't get a lot of time to write. But... I did work on this story and I started some writing on my next Alien Love book and I even finished my newest Ice Era Chronicle (One Strong Gale) Soooo WOOHOO for me.

So here is this week's chapter with Clay and Brice. To all of you who have been reading with me since the beginning, thank you! If you are new, thanks for checking me out!

Be Well,

~M. From C.M. Moore

***

It had been a week, and Brice kept putting off talking to Clay about their evolving relationship. Tonight, he would have the man come over, but they wouldn't end up in bed. They would only discuss why this thing between them was impossible to continue and then they would break-up as they should. Although, Brice reminded himself that he wasn't dating a recruit so they couldn't break up if they were not together. They were hanging out a little. This was advanced training. That's what Brice said to Wicks, and he was desperately sticking to the lie.

Brice watched Clay as he slipped off his sweat-soaked shirt and tossed the garment near the edge of the training ring. Every muscle on the recruit glistened and shone in the harsh training-ring light. Watching the man he'd sucked off last night, Brice felt his whole being hum with memories of everything they had done all week. He wasn't sure how he would invite Clay over and not end up coming in some way.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Brice kept hoping that, if he kept doing Claymore Wicks in every way he could think of, that one of these times, it would be enough. There had to be a way to tame this sexual monster inside of him. It had to let up, but so far, no such luck.

"Try that again," Clay snapped at Abdul and began to circle his sparring partner in the center of the room. "You're a goddamn cheater."

The words pulled Brice out of his memories and his anger at himself. He crossed away from the men shooting and came closer to the person he wanted more than his foot returned and healed.

Being close to Claymore Wicks was dangerous. Brice could smell the sweat on him even in the dirty training room. He licked his lip while thinking about the salt on Clay's skin. Last night he'd bathed Clay's balls with his tongue. He'd never been so hot for someone before.

"It's not cheating," Abdul smirked. "It's a force multiplier."

"I'm going to fuck you up." Clay tackled Abdul and got the other man to the ground. Jealously rose in Brice, and he stomped the emotion down with ruthlessness. He had to get his head together. Brice crossed his arms and pretended to watch the fight indifferently. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on the recruits before they were released for chow. That's all Brice was doing. Just keep an eye on these combatants.

The two men rolled and rolled. When Clay sat on top of Abdul and laughed, Brice lost his ability to keep his mouth shut. Clay should only laugh like that with him. Clay should only sit on top of Brice. No one else. Abdul didn't deserve to be pinned by Claymore Wicks.

"Wicks." His snap was loud enough that the two men knife-fighting in the next ring over stopped and turned their heads. "Why don't you try that on me?"

Brice inhaled sharply. That didn't come out as he thought it should.

"Yes, Instructor?" Clay jumped up, and behind him, Abdul leaped to his feet.

"I'll go shoot." Abdul was wise enough not to say anything more.

"Go to chow," Brice growled at the man. "Now."

Abdul nodded and headed toward the exit. To his credit, Clay didn't grin or smirk like Brice thought he would. But the twinkle in his eyes said Wicks knew Brice was annoyed and battling the green-eyed monster.

"I could pin you, Instructor Brice," Clay said with a straight face.

"Wicks." Brice tried to offer a warning tone, but his blood surged to his dick like Clay was naked and on display. How come the craving never ceased? The waves of lust didn't seem to slow no matter what Brice did. He kept wanting Clay with an unnatural hunger.

Damn it.

"Here." One of the recruits handed Brice a small boot knife. The young man then gave another blade to Clay. "We're done." Both the young recruits from the other ring yelled about chow, and they disappeared.

A few of the men shooting left next. Only a handful of recruits were still in the room finishing up what they were practicing.

"What do you say, Instructor?" Clay flipped the knife from hand to hand and nimbly spun the blade through his fingers. "If I get your knife away from you, do I win?" There was that damn I-know-what-you're-thinking-sparkle in his eyes again.

"Fine." Brice lifted his chin and kept his expression neutral. He gripped his knife handle harder. "Let's see you do it."

Chuckling, Clay spun the knife around his fingers again and then missing a catch. The weapon sliced across the palm of his hand.

"Shit."

Brice frowned at the blood and stepped up next to Clay to make sure his boyfriend was okay. He cringed at the thought. He just called Claymore Wicks his boyfriend in his head. That was so dangerous. The rock-crushing machine was now turned on.

Clay slipped his knife into his cargo pocket and then held his hand over the slice in his palm. His eyes caught and captured Brice's stare.

"Fuck, that hurts."

Brice grabbed Clay's wrist to look at the wound, but Wicks kept one hand over the injury. Brice shook his head.

"Let me see it."

Clay let go and took Brice's knife. After his boyfriend slipped the blade into his cargo pocket, he then let Brice inspect the bloody mark across his palm.

"You need to focus on what you're doing and stop screwing around." Brice lifted his eyes from the wound as his skin began to heat to boiling and then on to lava. Just this little touch, and he was starting to pant and get light-headed. He wanted to lick the damaged skin and then begin licking other parts of Clay's body. His eyes bounced around the training room. There were still recruits around and Nancy.

"Can you put pressure on it? It aches," Clay's voice was a whisper. The man was teasing him, and his eyes dropped to Clay's naked chest. Even though he knew he shouldn't, Brice's eyes moved lower. Yes, Brice had something that ached too.

"Everything okay, Brice?" Nancy asked as she grabbed Clay's shirt. She came to stand next to them and handed Clay his forgotten top. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." Wicks pulled his hand away from Brice and then tossed the garment over his head.

"Recruit Wicks cut his hand." Brice glanced over his shoulder as more men left the room. "He was messing around with a boot knife. I'll take Wicks to the office and wrap it. I don't want it to get infected."

"We are heading to chow. After he is cleaned up, send Wicks to follow us."

"Affirmative." Brice pointed to the door on the other side of the training room. "Office."

When Clay fell into step next to Brice, he lowered his voice and grinned at him. "I got your knife away from you. That was easy."

"Claymore Wicks." Brice tipped his head to the side. "Did you cut yourself on purpose?"

"I did."

"Is that your idea of advanced skills? Acting like a moron?"

"I can show you some advanced skills that I think you'll like better than my knife fighting." Clay headed into the training office looking compliant and apologetic, but as soon as the door was closed, he turned on Brice. "Lick it."

Brice locked the door and groaned. Their relationship had honestly gotten to a point where he'd lost his mind. They were in an office. They could get caught, but he was going to give in and he knew it.

"Wicks." Brice groaned. That was the only plea he could come up with to stop this, and even he knew it was weak.

"I think I can handle your weapon, Instructor Brice." Clay winked at him.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Brice walked to the desk and leaned against the wood. He grabbed Clay's wrists and brought the man's hand to his mouth. He ran his tongue up the cut skin. Clay moaned like his dick was getting licked. The sound went straight to Brice's balls and swirled there.

"We can't keep doing this."

"I think we can." Clay tugged his now closed injury away from Brice and set both his hands on Brice's chest. Slowly both palms slid over Brice's stomach and toward the buttons of his pants. Now was the time. He would say no. Brice would be strong.

"Recruit Wicks."

"You can call me Clay." Clay moved Brice's hands to the desk. "I think we're past full names." He set them on either side of Brice's thighs and then pressed on his stomach so that Brice leaned his butt against the edge. Once Brice's arms were out of his way, Clay undid the button at the top of his pants and the zipper.

"Clay."

"We didn't get time this morning. You left rock hard," Clay murmured to Brice's slowly dropping pants.

"I'm always rock hard around you," Brice whispered. "And I had an early meeting."

"Let me show you what you missed while you were listening to H.S.P.C. bullshit." Clay tugged until Brice's pants and underwear fell to the floor. Brice's swollen cock sprung free as soon as the fabric prison was gone. He sucked in a deep breath as Clay sank gracefully to his knees.

Unfortunately, Brice was powerless to stop him. He'd been mostly hard all training thinking about Clay. Plus, he was still spun up seeing Clay and Abdul together. He just needed to see his boyfriend, his shepherd, like this with him. He couldn't tell Clay to get up no matter how bad an idea this was.

"I'm yours," Brice murmured and then moaned. He wasn't even sure he could fight this attraction right now. They could break-up later.

"I know you're mine." Reaching out, Clay grabbed Brice's dick with both hands.

Clay was perfectly lined up with Brice's shaft. Gripping the desk on either side of his waist, Brice gritted his teeth. This man knew his body too well. He'd learned advanced skills alright. Claymore Wicks knew precisely how to give him the pleasure he craved. It was rare they ever did anything outside of the bedroom for fear of being caught, but Brice was so hard that he couldn't get the words together to object to the location.

Gradually, Clay started pumping his erection. Clay reached down to squeeze his balls slightly. Moaning again, Brice tangling his fingers into Clay's hair. He lovingly swept some of the hair back as he groaned at the simple feel of his boyfriend's hands working him.

Then, as if in slow motion, Clay bent his head. The moment that phenomenal mouth licked the swollen crown, Brice's eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His head dropped to his shoulders.

"Fuck, that's good," he growled into the silence of the room as he leaned heavily against the desk. The wood squeaked with his weight. His erection was big and swollen, but Clay didn't let that stop his lips from sucking over every inch. His boyfriend started using his tongue as if Brice tasted like heaven. That always got Brice to melt like snow in the sun.

Clay started at the top of the stiff shaft and worked his way down to the base. Brice could feel that hot tongue lap at the pre-come seeping from his tip.

Making him wetter and wetter, Clay moved lower to run his tongue down to the underside of his ball. Brice was still jazzed from earlier. He wanted to come on Clay's face and declare the man his. Digging deep, it took every ounce of Brice's control to not orgasm right that second. Picturing spraying on his shepherd had Brice's blood rushing like river rapids. He needed just a few more minutes of this. It couldn't be over so soon. Clay on his knees servicing him was like a dream come true. At this moment, Brice forgot that he was an instructor and gave into their bond. He would bask in their connection until he couldn't hold out anymore.

"Come for me, Brice. I want to taste you." Clay lifted his head then returned to sucking his shaft with such force that Brice immediately began to moan and buck his hips toward the heavy draw.

Clay's head bobbed faster. In one smooth move, the man deep-throated him. Pulling back, Clay then started jerking him while sucking the tip. Any part of Brice's length that didn't fit in his mouth, Clay used his hands to slide over him and squeeze. Brice's balls began to drip with saliva. Clay pulled on him again, this time more deeply. The move forced Brice toward his orgasm whether he wanted to come or not. One of Brice's hands tightened in his lover's hair. His juices, of their own accord, shot out of him. Crying out, Brice trembled. Again, Clay deep-throated him and drained Brice until he was sure his legs would buckle. Every drop was sucked from his body as Brice tried in vain to catch his breath.

Slumping against the desk, Brice let his eyelids drop. He needed his bed right now with Clay in it. Never before had he wanted to blow off his responsibilities as much as he did in this very moment.

When Brice opened his eyes again, Wicks leaned against the exit door. His shepherd's eyes read Brice's every nuance. Clay's lips puffed out, and his cheeks were tinged pink. His sexy-as-fuck-boyfriend adjusted the pole in his pants as a frown blackened his features.

"I shouldn't have done that, but you can give me a speech later. I have to get to chow." Suddenly, his frown vanished, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course, now that I think about it, I've already eaten." He licked his lips. "Thanks for dinner, boyfriend."

With that cheeky smile, Brice thought Clay was the most attractive man he'd ever seen. He'd never tire of looking at the sparkle in his eyes. Reaching down, Brice grabbed his pants and pulled them up to his waist. He was dizzy, and he had a hard time focusing on the buttons. Brice was in no place to give a why-they-should-break-up-speech right now. Breaking up was the last thing on his mind.

"We were reckless." That was the best he could come up with while his head still spun.

Clay crossed the room and closed the button and zipper for him. While he straightened Brice's clothes, Clay shook his head.

"It would be more reckless if you didn't get off. You looked like your head was going to explode."

Clay might be right, not that Brice would admit that. He wasn't sure what would happen if they tried to ignore this lust between them. Getting sucked off in the office might've been the most responsible thing they could do.

"Everyone went to chow. They didn't hear us."

"We need to talk."

"No." Clay shook his head. "Not now."

They both stood there staring at each other. So many things left unsaid.

"Stop sparing with Abdul," Brice said at length. "I don't like him touching you. I don't like you on top of him. He's your ex-boyfriend."

"No more touching Abdul." Clay held his smile, but Brice could see his laughter in his eyes.

"And go to chow."

Clay grinned. "Charlie-mike, Instructor."

"And when you're done eating." Brice rubbed a hand over his face. "Be naked in my bed waiting. I'll get you a key to my place."

Clay strode to the door and licked his lips. "I'll be home later, boyfriend." Clay didn't wait to be corrected on the term. He sailed out of the office.

Brice dropped his head into his hands. He should win the dope of the year award.