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Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
MaineWriter:
In honor of post 8500, the famous pass from Chapter 22:
“Look, Ennis, you are a sweet and dear man, and it gets my blood up when I look at you, okay? But I made a promise and maybe its time ta make that promise about suggestive remarks.”
“No, it’s ok,” he said, his mumble deepening. “As long as .... as long as there ain’t no one else around.”
Ellery tilted his chin and looked into his eyes. “You mean that?”
Ennis nodded, not trusting his voice, his fingers still kneading the spasm that was now slowly responding to his hard fingers, relaxing his back, and Ellery was able to straighten a bit more.
“Feels better.” Ellery slid his hand up Ennis’s arm to the elbow and then looked at him once more. “Thank you, Ennis.”
Ennis moved, then, the handful of inches between his face and Ellery’s, until he could feel the warmth of Ellery’s breath against his cheek, shifted slightly until their cheeks brushed, and his hand slid down the outside of Ellery’s shirt, seeking his hand, finding it half open against his knee, and grasped it, clamping his own hand hard and pulling it, as though testing the willingness of the man who owned it, to come to him, pulling it into the hard lump now straining against his fly.
“I do... want it,” Ennis said, his voice a harsh, barely heard whisper.
And in answer, Ellery moved his lips against his cheek and toward his ear. “All right. Not here. We’ll go ta my house.” Ennis nodded, wordless now, the die cast, his willingness to fight against himself unwound by the whispered pact of their new intimacy. Ellery brushed his knuckles meaningfully against Ennis’s trapped erection and then pulled back, untangling his hand from that hard grip, letting his lips brush once more against Ennis’s cheek before he spoke, somewhat more audibly. “Let’s make sure we finish lookin here before we give up. Then we got all night. Got to put in a night’s work. The big picture.”
“Right,” Ennis said aloud, his voice a trembling sigh, and he spread his hands out on his knees to try to catch his breath, not daring to look up now that he had spoken his desire to a man in the light of day.
Ellery gave him a soft smile. “It’s alright. Come on.” He got up, testing his back with tentative fingers, and then began a bit more cautiously, to search the room with his flashlight.
L
louisev:
whoo WEE. That got MY blood up! The infamous hand/cock grab a la Jack!
Kazza:
--- Quote from: louisev on December 08, 2006, 09:24:21 am ---whoo WEE. That got MY blood up! The infamous hand/cock grab a la Jack!
--- End quote ---
You know, I never made the connection to Jack's first move on Ennis before now.
Dur! *slaps forehead*
Karen
yb:
Leslie, your choice in honour of the 8500 posts is just fitting. This is a very precious chapter to me, I don't know how to express it in English, but I nearly melted reading the following section:
Feels better.” Ellery slid his hand up Ennis’s arm to the elbow and then looked at him once more. “Thank you, Ennis.”
Ennis moved, then, the handful of inches between his face and Ellery’s, until he could feel the warmth of Ellery’s breath against his cheek, shifted slightly until their cheeks brushed, and his hand slid down the outside of Ellery’s shirt, seeking his hand, finding it half open against his knee, and grasped it, clamping his own hand hard and pulling it, as though testing the willingness of the man who owned it, to come to him, pulling it into the hard lump now straining against his fly.
“I do... want it,” Ennis said, his voice a harsh, barely heard whisper.
And in answer, Ellery moved his lips against his cheek and toward his ear. “All right. Not here. We’ll go ta my house.”
MaineWriter:
From Chapter 23:
He followed Ellery out of the Lincoln suite, eyes registering little but the long shock of black hair under the deeper black of his hat, the lean back, which he was now favoring slightly, and atypically, took the stairs one at a time going down. Ennis kept his distance, hovering near the painting he favored most, one of the Bighorns that looked passably close to his mountain – their mountain – and his hand reached up to pat the pocket that held his treasure, one of two treasures that proved to him that his love was real, that he had once loved, and therefore had reason once again to hope that something – someone – could once again quench that raw need that had been fulfilled by only one. He looked up from his reverie to see Ellery tipping his hat with that easy smile, and this time, no pang of jealous irritation assailed him, and he knew why this time: because he had said the words. I want it.
L
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