Free Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3 by Heidi Cullinan Page A

this and do just what I say.” His fingers went back to stroking. “You’re going to take a deep breath and open your throat, baby, and I’m gonna fuck way down into it. Way down. You won’t be able to breathe until I pull out, and I’m gonna stay down there a second, because your throat will spasm around me, and it’ll feel really good. Then I’ll pull out and you can breathe, and then I’ll fuck you again. You’re gonna have to focus real hard, because I’m gonna do it long enough that if you panic, it won’t work. I’ll have to stop fucking your throat. But if you just do what I say, open wide, let me fuck you real, real deep, and breathe when I pull back, you’ll be fine. You think you can do that, baby?”
    Adam could barely hear Denver, because his pulse was pounding like a hammer at his ears. His panic stood at the ready, prepared to ratchet way up, way, way up if need be—but his lust was already revving at high speed and thoroughly in the game. Brad had fucked him in the throat once, and it had been okay, but something about the way he’d liked it had felt unsafe, at least with Brad. Something about Brad’s face, what it seemed to mean to Brad, had bothered him, though maybe Adam had just been projecting their unhealthy personal relationship onto their sex life. In any event, he’d flipped out. Now, though, he didn’t feel like losing it at all. Sure, his panic stood ready, but that almost added to his sense of safety, like a security blanket along for the ride for a change, not because he had to have it. In fact, on so many levels, it felt right to do this with Denver.
    He’s a guy you barely know , a voice whispered in the back of Adam’s mind. It sounded a lot like Brad’s.
    The reminder that he barely knew Denver, that he could die back here while Denver choked him to death with a cock, stirred the previously settled panic and made his OCD lift its head uneasily. He clamped down on the instinct and made himself look at Denver’s face.
    No. There was nothing bad here, not with Denver. Stranger or no, Adam wanted this. He wanted this bad .
    Taking a firmer hold on Denver’s meaty thighs, Adam drew in a deep, steadying breath.
    Denver grinned, a nasty grin that made Adam’s balls ache. “Yeah. Gonna fuck your throat, baby, and then I’ll fuck your ass with my mouth.”
    Adam drew in another breath. Then another.
    Denver pushed forward, and forward, and forward, until Adam couldn’t breathe at all.
    His throat did spasm, just like Denver said—he couldn’t help it, he just tried to swallow and breathe over and over, nothing happening until Denver pulled back to the tip of Adam’s lips with a satisfied groan. Then Adam’s gasp was noisy, like he was surfacing from a swimming pool. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
    Denver smiled at him, stroking Adam’s swollen lips with the tip of his penis. “Good job. Think you can do it again?”
    Still gasping, Adam nodded. He could do this. He would do this. Brad was forgotten. Everything in the world fell away but this. Adam tipped his head up, met Denver’s eyes, and took a deep breath through his nose.
    Denver plunged again.
    It was almost meditative, being throat-fucked. It went beyond just holding still while Denver used him—it felt like survival, real survival. It didn’t make any sense—he’d have thought his anxiety would be through the roof, but it was almost humming, it was so happy. Like this was what it had been waiting for all along. Like it had been sure someday it would come to this, life and death, and it finally had come, and it was glad. It surged through him, not panic but need. It held him still, made him count the seconds until Denver pulled back, then made him take in a good amount of air before the cock closed it off again. It made him so subservient to Denver’s fucking that he forgot to think about showing up Brad or listening for noise from the door. His mother could have walked in and he’d still have focused