Crank forgot to be Crank. Mike fucked him slowly. He made love with excruciating long and unhurried strokes that Crandall felt through his entire body from the intensity of being filled by Mike’s hard prick to the slide of Mike’s damp skin across Crandall’s torso as Mike flexed his abs and rocked his hips.
As if he knew exactly when Crandall needed it most, and maybe he did, Mike ran a hand down Crandall’s thigh where it wrapped around his waist and eased away, pulling out. He grabbed Crandall’s ankle and lifted his leg. “Turn over,” he said as he leveraged Crandall around to his stomach.
Crandall pulled his knees and elbow beneath him and arched his back shoving his ass high in the air. Mike didn’t make him wait. He caressed Crandall’s ass cheeks and then trailed his fingers around to grab Crandall’s hips like handles. He pulled Crandall’s ass close, nuzzling his cock against Crandall’s entrance. Crandall pushed back, already loosened up and still eager to be fucked.
And fucked was what he got. Good and hard and fast. Just the way he liked it.
As he panted out the last breaths of his orgasm into his pillow, shooting cum across the sheets, Crandall was vaguely aware of Mike pumping his short shallow thrusts that preceded his own orgasm. Exhausted, depleted, and beyond satisfied, Crandall rolled his head to one side and let his eyes drift shut as Mike’s warmth disappeared. A moment later, the mattress shifted beneath him as Mike flopped down beside Crandall.
“You okay?” Mike asked.
Crandall half-opened one eye. He knew he was smiling. “What kind of question is that?”
“Huh?” He closed his eye, but then felt Mike’s hand on his hip, still up in the air. It felt like too much work to move his knees to fall flat on the bed.
Mike gave a gentle push. “Don’t you want to lie down?”
Crandall made a noncommittal grunting sound in the back of his throat but went with Mike’s touch, letting him push Crandall until he toppled to his side. Yeah, that was better. Peeking through one eye again, he reached for Mike’s hand as it withdrew. He brought it to his lips and kissed one finger before sucking it into his mouth with a happy hum.
When he let Mike’s hand go, Crandall closed his eye, intent on dozing for a few minutes before dragging Mike out of bed for their usual post-show late-night breakfast at IHOP. His mind had other ideas. With the return of normal blood flow, Crandall remembered the pink note left on Mike’s windshield. With a grumpy groan he threw one arm over his face and flopped onto his back. He did not want to think about vampires any longer tonight. There had to be something they could do to get them to back off.
“Do you still talk to that priest?”
Mike was silent for a moment. Crandall tipped his cheek to the pillow and peeked at Mike from under his forearm.
“Father Chris? Yeah, sometimes. What’s got you thinking about him?”
“The church is known for its secrecy. Secret societies and shit like that. Maybe he has some secret vampire killing books at his disposal.”
“I would think he would’ve mentioned that before now.” Mike stared at the ceiling. Crandall could tell he was considering the option despite his objection.
“Have you told him about this stupid-ass prophecy?”
Mike’s brow wrinkled as he frowned. “I don’t think I have.”
“We?” Mike rolled to his side, his gaze locked on Crandall’s.
“Yeah, yeah, I gave you shit about the religious crap. Go ahead and tell me I have a shitty idea. I fucking dare you.”
Mike winced and shook his head. “We can try it. Couldn’t hurt.”
It could. All of that vampire shit could hurt. And that was exactly why Crandall wanted it out of his life. He’d find a way. Even if it meant killing the biggest, baddest vampire of all time. He was starting to think that really was their only way out.