Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,15

watch the show.

“No!” Cope panted. His body arched off the bed, his wrists again pulling at the restraint. “More! Jesus, Jude! I need more!”

“No, you don’t” Jude rose to his knees and wrapped one hand around Cope’s dick and the other around his own. He gave each a gentle squeeze before he started to stroke them in tandem. Maybe he should have gotten a second one of these for himself. Cope seemed ready to shoot into orbit at any second. He wondered if the restraints were heightening Cope’s arousal. Maybe Jude would like those too.

“Jude!” Cope gasped. His dick twitched in Jude’s hand sending a stream of come straight into the air like a fountain. It splashed down against Cope’s chest. The second and third shots did the same, with some of the hot cream landing on Jude’s hand.

“Christ, Cope!” Jude felt his own come rise. Without hesitation it shot forward, landing on Cope’s chest. Jude moaned as more of his release striped Cope’s sweaty skin. He’d never seen anything hotter in his life. Until Cope started shooting again.

His moans were weak, more like breathy gasps. Cope’s eyes were rolled back in his head while his chest heaved for breath. “Make it stop,” Cope panted. Come trickled weakly from his slit. “I can’t come again, twice was enough.” His ass wriggled against the bedspread, as if Cope thought he could dislodge the device all on his own.

Jesus, Cope had come twice in a matter of seconds. The Backdoor Boogie had certainly lived up to its name. He supposed his own husband could be counted among the throngs of satisfied Pure Passion customers.

Jude couldn’t wait to take it out for a spin.

7

Copeland

The next morning, Cope swore he could still feel Jude’s plug jammed in his ass. It was as if he was experiencing residual shocks from the device. He had no idea where the little pocket rocket had come from, but he was anxious to try it out again. He wondered if Jude would want to ride the lightning after what it did for him last night.

“Wolf’s ready to go!” Jude’s call up the stairs brought Cope back to the present.

Day two of leaving Wolf with Kaye. Christ, how the hell was this only Tuesday? Cope knew he was being ridiculous. Millions of parents left their children in daycare every day. He could do this. It was going to be okay. Grabbing his socks, Cope headed down the stairs.

Wolf was sitting in the center of the living room floor watching PBS. Cope sat next to him on the carpet and started pulling a sock on. “Dada!” Wolf pointed to the television.

“What did you say?” Cope couldn’t believe his ears. Wolf just called him Dada.

“Da! Da! Da! Da!” the baby chirped, his toothy smile in full effect.

Cope scooped the baby into his arms. “Dada loves you, Wolfie.”

“Da!” Wolf’s little fist shot high in the air.

“What do you think, Dada?” Jude asked.

When Cope turned to look at him, Jude was filming the whole thing. “Did he say it when I was upstairs?”

“No.” Jude shook his head. “He looked like he was about to, and I wanted you to be the first to hear him say your name.”

“Da! Da!” Wolf chorused, this time pointing at Jude.

Jude joined his family on the living room rug. “You did it! You’re such a big boy.” Jude’s voice broke at the end.

Cope didn’t have to look at his husband to know Jude’s dark eyes were glassy with unshed tears, just like his own were.

“Da! Da! Da! Da!” Wolf laughed at the sound of his own voice.

Jude and Cope joined in with him.

The baby continued to chant as Cope finished putting on his socks and shoes and while Jude carried him across the street to Ten and Ronan’s house. For some reason, Wolf’s little soliloquy made Cope feel better about leaving him for the day. Their son hadn’t forgotten who they were yesterday. He wouldn’t forget today either.

“How was that for a late birthday present?” Jude asked when they were in the Thunderbird, heading toward West Side Magick.

“Christ almighty!” Cope could feel himself blushing at the thought of the black silicone toy. He’d wanted to give it another go this morning when they’d woken up. “Can’t we call in sick and spend the day milking each other dry?” Cope licked a swath up the side of Jude’s neck.

Jude snorted. “I was talking about our son saying ‘Dada,’ but I guess the vibe was a cool present too.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Cope