Hands of Clay

Hi all!

Okay... so... I had this chapter all ready to put up but then I realized that Brice was missing his foot. I didn't want that ignored since the loss was something between Clay and Brice from the start of this story. So I had to fix it. Anyway, If you are here and still reading, thanks for checking this out. Please give me feedback if you have any thoughts. I like to improve as a writer.

I'm working on another chapter of this but I have to finish my other Ice Era Chronicle this week so I don't know when it will be done. I promise as soon as I get my hands on this book, I will be finishing this. I do know how this is going to end and that's half the battle.

Again, thanks so much for reading. It means a lot to me when I have new followers and people telling me that they like this. It lifts my heart and gives me hope that I will be a good writer one day.

Cheers, my friends,

~M. From C.M. Moore

***

As soft music started to play, Clay snuggled into Brice's warm bed. Last night entered his head, and a broad smile spread across his lips. Finally, Brice had given in, and the sex was phenomenal. Every second was exactly like he thought it was going to be. No, it was better. Even if the man wasn't here in the sheets, Clay's missing grader didn't dampen his high spirits.

Opening one eye, he glanced around the room. The place was silent, and with a stretch, he rose.

One part of him was looking for Brice, and the other part of him wasn't. He wanted more sex and more, well, more of everything. But that other part of him? That little voice warned him of what Brice would say now that morning had arrived. Brice would probably give another long diatribe on how wrong it was to sleep with a recruit.

Clay was not feeling a rant.

Walking naked over to the table, Clay spotted a hand-written note.

"Went to an early meeting." Clay read the message out loud.

That was it. Five words. Well... it wasn't a rant. After everything they did last night, Clay got five words.

Glaring, Clay stalked back to the bed. He fished out his uniform and boots and stared at the gears logo. What kind of closed-off-stubborn mule was Brice that he gave him a scrap of paper and five words and expected that would be enough?

That was it. Clay would quit H.S.P.C. recruit training first thing today. The obstinate man didn't even sign his name.

Shower water started in the bathroom. The splashing stopped Clay from pulling his shirt over his head. Instead of getting dressed, he tossed the garment on the bed and headed for the other room. He leaned against the closed door and listened to the running water.

Brice was going to get a word, and it would be more than five of them.

Whipping open the door, Clay marched in and stared at the flat curtain.

"Went to an early meeting?" Clay spat. "That's all you have to say? I wasn't expecting a heartfelt declaration on how you love me, but that was all you could be bothered with saying? I've never— I've never—"

"Had sex like that?" Brice's face, dripping with water, peeked out past the curtain.

"I was going to say that I've never—" Clay inhaled his anger. "You're a fucking asshole."

"That was a note for Copeland. He is with the armor unit, and he was supposed to stop here. I left it outside the door so that you could sleep in this morning."

"Instructor Brice," Clay's eyebrows rose as his smile returned full force. "Did you lie for me?"

"Wipe that smile off your face and get in here. You still have training. I got you out of the morning run, but I have to get you to chow, or people will ask."

Clay couldn't get over it. His stuck-in-his-ways-instructor lied for him. Him. This man wanted him here in his bed. Every ounce of Clay's soul pointed out that they would be together, but instead of saying that out loud, Clay reached for the curtain.

Working overtime, Clay rearranged his features to hide his overwhelming love. He pushed the fabric to the side to find Brice's intent gaze upon him. The man was beautifully naked and hard. Soap bubbles cling to his chest hair as he stood to the side of the spray holding the metal bar to keep his balance. His good foot was solidly on the tub floor, but since he was missing his other foot, Brice knelt one leg on a small plastic stool.

Stepping around the stool, Clay joined the other man in the hot spray. It took everything inside of him not to reach out and trace the scar on the side of Brice's face. The instructor watched him as if waiting for Clay to comment about his missing appendage. Brice didn't take it off last night. This was the first time Clay had seen it entirely removed. The lack of foot didn't turn Clay off. Instead, this missing part was a moment in time that they had shared. Clay was there for that, and he wanted to be there for everything else that might come at them. He wanted to be Brice's future.

"If this bothers you..." Brice cleared his throat.

"Fuck that noise." Clay gave into his need and stroked Brice's chest hair. He traced the scar on his cheek. "You know I don't care."

"Are you sore?" Brice scanned Clay's naked frame and then feathered the tips of his fingers over a bruise on Clay's shoulder.

"I'm phenomenal." Clay ignored Brice's concern and shifted until their nipples touched. It seemed like no touch was ever enough to sate or satisfy. He slipped his hands up Brice's biceps as warm water slushed down his spine and over his ass. His head tipped back at the erotic sensation of Brice at his front and the warm water at his back.

Silently, Brice began to wash him. A wet cloth glided over his back, his legs, and his ass. The man seemed to note every mark that he gave Clay last night. The world narrowed to his grader in front of him. As Brice gestured for him to turn and face the hot water spray, Clay worked to ignore how hard they both were. Brice's shaft had been like an iron rod when he first got into the water. Now Clay's dick matched the instructor's rigid pole. That uncontrollable desire from last night returned like they didn't have sex. Clay tried to come up with how to suggest they do it all over again. No matter what Brice said this morning, Clay would be in this bedroom tonight.

"We need to talk about what we did." Brice breathed in his ear. "Once that gear's bracelet is on your wrist, I have to end this."

Great, the speech was here again. The bullshit H.S.P.C. reasons that they couldn't be together. Well, Clay wasn't listening. It was all fake anyway. Basically, Brice was scared of getting his heart crushed or broken or whatever metaphor he wanted to use. Whatever. Clay would never do that.

"I was hoping we could make out again," Clay muttered to the shower wall.

"We are going to talk."

"We can talk with our bodies." Clay spun around and grabbed his grader. Brice's embraced him and kissed him. Brice's hands were on his ass and holding him close. Clay arched and withered into the tight hold. This is what he was talking about; they couldn't fight this. Shamelessly whimpering, Clay let his hands roam over Brice's pecs, then abs, and then down to his cock. He glided over the other man's broad, thick head. The flare and shape of the other man were what he wanted. The moan Brice offered was a spice. Clay was sure he could taste the sound.

As his mouth slanted over Brice's sizzling, wet lips, Clay's questing fingers moved to the other man's balls. The surrender was between them both. In that one kiss, Clay let the fire inside of him escape its paper cage. Their bodies moved together as if each of them were aware of every part of their skin on skin. Heat on heat. Cock on cock.

"I..." Brice yanked his head back and snapped off the water. "Get out of the shower."

Clay nodded and moved out of Brice's way. His instructor used another handle on the wall to hop out of the tub and onto the rug.

When Brice got in front of the sink, he stopped and grabbed Clay's wrist. At first, Clay thought the man was using Clay for support to balance on one foot. Before Clay could ask if he needed help, Brice kissed him again. His grader crashed his lips into Clay's and then just as abruptly pulled away.

"I need this." Brice's voice shook. "We can stick to what I said. This is advanced training."

"You're the instructor." This time Clay did grin, and he didn't even try to hide the gleam in his eye. "You can drill me."

"Too good to be true." Brice turned around to the mirror vanity sink and tossed open a drawer. Water drops rained down his skin. Not bothering to towel off, his instructor pulled out a small unmarked white bottle.

"This is for your ass. Put this cream on the tender skin." Brice set the bottle aside and then drew out the lube that looked similar to the one they had used last night.

"Caring for my ass?" Clay laughed. "When you said advanced training, I thought I was going to get some action."

"Caring for your ass is only one of the many things I'm going to teach you."

Turning away from the counter, Brice faced Clay and scanned him with unchecked desire in his gaze. When Clay didn't move, Brice began to pour copious amounts of lube over Clay's erection. His pink tongue flicked out over his bottom lip as he stroked Clay's shaft.

Clay sucked in air when Brice's hand rubbed the oils over his sensitive crown and down to his balls. His skin suddenly felt taut and sharp, as if the molecules knew what was about to happen. His instructor kept adding fluid. Each firm touch brought Clay closer and closer to exploding.

"I want..." Clay's back bowed into the wet sliding grip. "Sex," Clay groaned. That came out awkward, but his brain had emptied of blood. His mouth was dry, and all he could think about was more kisses and coming until his balls were empty.

"Affirmative." Brice shoved his hot wet tongue between his lips again. Clay twisted to get closer to the man in front of him. One of Brice's hands wrapped under Clay's hair to the back of his neck. Tingles shimmered on his skin and rushed to every part of his body. Brice leaned back heavily on the counter to keep his balance. Remembering that Brice stood on one foot, Clay wrapped his arms around Brice's waist and held him steady. He loved having Brice this way. The man was all heat and hardness and sculped perfection.

"I'm such a dope." Brice groaned between kisses. "But I need this one more time."

"You're not," Clay whispered. "You're phenomenal."

Leaning his head back, Clay tried to convey all his feelings into one look. Brice's eyes deepened to a dark, hungry stare. His eyes spoke of a lust that Clay didn't even know could exist. There was no way either one of them could go to training feeling like this. Clay couldn't think.

"I..." Clay tried to speak, but he didn't want words. He needed to be fucked.

"You'll come inside me." Brice looked down at Clay's swollen member. "You've done that before?"

Clay nodded but didn't want to give specifics. Mentioning his old boyfriends would only ruin this special thing between them. Besides, with Brice around, all other experiences seemed to have faded to nothing.

Instead of talking, Clay kissed Brice again until they were both out of breath. Clay's tongue mimicked the thrusting he wanted his cock to make inside the grader. Arousal made their mouths and lips rougher and more intense. Kissing Brice was better than any dream, better than any fantasy he ever had. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do if Brice asked him.

When Brice's chest brushed the front of Clay's body, the room became a blur. Brice yanked Clay until nothing separated them, not even air. Their cocks rubbed together between their stomachs. Brice's shaft, thick and engorged, snuggled against Clay like his member was meant to be there forever. When Brice lifted his knee with his missing foot, Clay groaned. The grader wrapped his leg around Clay's waist, bringing their dicks even closer. The move caused that now familiar tingling vibration to shoot down Clay's spine. The action made his toes curl into the rug. Harsh and persistent, Clay attached his lips to the other man and wouldn't let go.

While kneading Brice's lower back, Clay trailed kisses from his instructor's lips to his neck and then onto the shell of the other man's ear. Brice tasted decadent, like chocolate or heady wine. Shocking bursts of need took the air from his lungs. Notes of mint hinted on Brice's tongue, and Clay's knees threatened to buckle. These moments never seemed to be enough to cool the blaze burning out of control inside of him. Clay needed Brice to be the water, to be the rushing river that could put out the wildfire flames.

Biting on his earlobe, Clay shook in Brice's arms. More, always more. Roughly, Brice ran his hands down Clay's chest to pinch his nipples and slightly pull.

"My shepherd," Brice groaned as the veins in his neck visibly pulsed. "I need you to fuck me."

"Charlie-mike," Clay growled back. Whatever Brice wanted, he was up for the mission.

Untangling himself from Brice, Clay turned Brice around his set the man's hands on the counter next to the sink. His dick was already dripping, but he grabbed the lube. Cock aching, Clay's thighs clenched against the man in front of him and thrust into the warm crack. The move gave him more neediness, more desire, but it wasn't enough. Damn, but it was never enough.

Copying what Brice did last night, Clay covered his fingers in lubricant and then slipped them between Brice's ass cheeks. Back and forth, he petted Brice's waiting hole. His instructor bent forward toward the mirror as he leaned his abs against the sink. Lifting his leg with the missing foot, Brice then set his knee on the counter. The angle exposed his hole and offered Clay more access. Brice panted as Clay kept rubbing over his anus and coating the puckered flesh. A fog cloud decorated the mirror with each of Brice's groans.

Clay went to work and finally pushed into the hole with his middle finger. He slipped inside Brice and watched his digit widen the channel. Seeing some part of him inside Brice was sexy in a way he couldn't explain. Moaning, Brice wiggled and repeated yes over and over again. Clay added a second finger quickly and then a third. Watching Brice's rising excitement was something he wanted to be tattoed into his memory. The skin of Brice's body seemed to grip him as if he would never let go.

"Clay," Brice growled. "Don't let my missing foot fool you. I will pin you to this floor if you don't fuck me soon."

"Yes, instructor." Clay lined up his wet cock with Brice's ass.

Slowly, he began to slide into Brice's eager hole.

Shoving backward, Brice was having none of his gradual movements. His instructor growled out random swearing and took Clay's cock like he was made for the shape and size.

Everything faded when his grader impaled himself on Clay's throbbing cock. Clay's entire being focused on being inside the man before him. The tight, clinging grip massaging his shaft had Clay's head ready to pop off. Both of them. Where skin met skin, Clay became hypersensitive and even needier. Pleasure boarded on pain as Clay slipped out partway and then thrust back in. Clay licked his lips and then bent to kiss the grader's spine as he fought the urge to fuck like a maniac.

"I want it hard." Brice set one hand on the counter's edge and his other hand on the mirror above the sink. Their eyes met in the reflection. "Fuck me hard and tell me I'm your boyfriend. Just this once. I need—"

"I got you, boyfriend." Clay shoved his hip forward. Hard he could do. The angle and the piston of his hips ended whatever Brice was going to say. Brice groaned and dropped his head.

"Yes. Say I'm your boyfriend."

"You're my everything, Brice. I love you."

The need, the want, the love, the wild movements were all out of control. Clay was feeling the frenzy under his skin and in his dick. The fire in his blood begged him to come inside Brice and make the man his. Sex like this would be a claim. Water dripped down their naked bodies as Clay drove into Brice with his balls tightening between his legs. Brice panted his one foot and took the rough, crazy penetration. His beautiful, sculpted god even went so far as to lean back into Clay's bucking hips.

Faster and harder, Clay crashed his thighs into Brice's ass. He fucked, and that was the only word he could use for his actions. In the mirror, Clay caught Brice's image as his cheeks flushed, making his scar more prominent. Panting and sweating, Clay hoped that his breath could keep his orgasm at bay. The warm air blew past Brice's neck. Clay had never felt so aware of another person.

Gripping Brice's ass, he dug his fingers into the flesh and held on like letting Brice go would kill him. In his hands, Brice's muscles clenched and flexed. Clay kept pounding all the time watching the smooth way his shaft glided in and out of the warm, willing man before him. His senses were drowning in pleasure, so much so that the feeling was an assault of touch and taste. Whatever was inside of him had become a storm.

As Clay worked Brice's hole, Brice let go of the edge of the counter. He gripped his erection and began to jerk himself in the small space before the cabinets. With every stroke of his arm, the grader's biceps bulged. With every thrust, Clay swore he could feel Brice's inner walls squeeze around his aching cock. The feeling was as if Brice's ass was molding him for future use.

Time stilled.

In and out.

Unfamiliar sounds came from his throat. A drop of sweat from Clay's brow dripped to Brice's back as he found the best rhythm for the position. Clay knew he would come, and he couldn't hold out at this tempo. Brice felt too good, too perfect, too everything. His eyes lifted to the mirror. Once more, Clay caught Brice staring at him. They shared only a single glance before Brice started to orgasm.

"Yes, Clay." Brice's explosion transformed his face into an image so raw and turbulent that it could've been a work of art. The look, those eyes, this connection, it all consumed Clay.

Brice smiled as his body called to Clay. He didn't call, he demanded. Eyes closing, Clay came with a yell that rose from his balls. Brice's entire being controlled Clay like he was on strings attached to Brice's will. Spurt after spurt of his hot come shot out of him and into Brice to wash his insides. As he came, some wild creature in him was momentarily leashed. Yes, finally, Brice was marked by him. The man would be carrying Claymore Wick's come inside his body and know who he belonged to.

"I love you, Brice." Clay shuddered and gasped. He then melted against Brice's back. Inhaling, he set his cheek against his slick, smooth muscles near the grader's spine. After a few minutes, Clay's softening cock slipped from the other man's body. They both sighed. Turning, Brice leaned heavily against the counter. When he got his footing, Brice pulled Clay into his arms and simply held him. They stood in silence as if neither one of them wanted to break this spell.

"H.S.P.C. training," Brice whispered in his ear. It wasn't romantic, and he didn't say that he loved him, but Brice was honest, and Clay had to admit that is what made Brice, Brice. "We have to go."

"I know." Clay inhaled Brice's soap and the distinct smell of his grader. The scent was now on his skin. He would think about him all day. He would picture Brice's ass filled with his come. "I remember."

"A on your memory."

Clay laughed and tugged out of Brice's embrace. He'd have to tell Brice that he would be in his bed tonight. After all, he was still working on that A plus.