Read Crossing Borders for Free Online Page B

again, starting the sugar syrup, and mixed the lemon juice with water. “I think there are some frozen raspberries, if you want to add them, there in the freezer.” When he'd finished boiling the syrup, he turned back to Tristan, who gripped the counter tightly with both hands. Michael faced him and put his arms around him, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Tristan's jeans. He nudged Tristan's feet apart and stepped between them.
     
    “You were shorter when I ticketed you two years ago, but you've grown since then,” said Michael. “I'm…”
     
    “Ripped.” Tristan slid his hands over Michael's strong arms, daring a caress of Michael's chest. “I'll bet you have great abs.”
     
    “Not really. I'm not strong, but I'm fast, even though I can never catch a certain hooligan when I chase him through the neighborhood behind the skate park.”
     
    “Well, if you'd just said you wanted to kiss me…”
     
    “I wanted to kiss you then; I want to now. How about it?”
     
    “Caught me,” sang Tristan, looking into Michael's eyes.
     
    Michael leaned in then, pulling Tristan's hips closer and tasting his lips with his tongue. Tristan opened to him and moaned a little when he felt Michael squeezing his ass. It was a good kind of squeeze. Hard, but not pinchy, and it brought him more in contact with Michael's cock, which felt damned fine.
     
    Tristan brought his hands up and ran them through Michael's short hair, digging his fingers into the scalp a little, massaging him, holding him still, and using his thumbs to trace the features on Michael's wonderful face.
     
    “So good,” Tristan whispered between kisses, not even aware that he'd spoken until the words were out. “You're…so hot.”
     
    Michael moved from Tristan's lips, finding and licking the junction between neck and shoulder. Tristan dropped his head back to give him more skin, but miscalculated, and his head smacked back on the cabinets.
     
    “Jeez, baby, looks like you need to wear that helmet inside too,” murmured Michael against his skin. Michael moved back, and Tristan made a noise when he lost contact. Michael smiled. “Back soon,” he said and went to stir the sugar syrup into the bowl of lemon juice Tristan had made earlier. He added the raspberries to the lemonade, poured the mixture into a pitcher, then placed it in the fridge. “It'll be a while before this cools to a nice drinking temperature.”
     
    “Yeah?” Tristan was still dazed.
     
    “Yeah, a little while.” He took a ribbon of Tristan's long red hair in his hand. “This is like fire,” he said. “Red hair is often curly, but yours is like silk.”
     
    “Mmmhmm,” said Tristan, being stroked and loving it, like a cat.
     
    “You are so beautiful. I thought that the first time I ever saw you.” Michael kissed him, hard, still holding his hair, winding it in his fist.
     
    “Yeah?” Tristan liked the small tug, liked Michael's possession of him.
     
    “Wanted you,” said Michael.
     
    “Me?” Tristan kissed him back, loving the taste of him, loving how his beard was scratchy, and his skin was tough from shaving.
     
    “Started calling you Sparky because when I ticketed you that first time, I looked into your eyes, and this shock went straight to my balls,” Michael said into his hair.
     
    “No kidding, really?” Tristan wanted more skin, so he started to unbutton Michael's Hawaiian shirt. Under his assault, Michael's shirt opened in seconds. He stopped what he was doing and just gazed at Michael, his hands over his mouth.
     
    “Sparky?”
     
    “You are so…” Tristan stood back to look. “Oh.” He couldn't stop himself; he went straight for one brown nipple encircled by blond hair sort of just calling him and wrapped his lips around it. He licked it, working it with the bead on his tongue, feeling it harden under his probing. He rubbed his face in the fuzz on Michael's chest, the crinkliness of it going straight to his cock, before taking