Read Keep Swimming for Free Online

a snap. “Yeah, I should get that food to Celine.” He pulled his own pants up and zipped them. Cary was stunned when Heath placed a soft kiss on his lips. “That was definitely nice.” Heath looked as surprised as Cary at the words, maybe even the kiss.
    That was all that was said from that point on other than rushed goodbyes. He’d probably never hear from the man again. He wasn’t foolish enough to think it was more than what it was: really awesome sex. He’d forgotten how much good that could do a body.
    Forget the slut comments he’d field from Kent, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning all the way home. And it’d been a long time since he could say he’d done that for a reason other than a good day at work.
     

Chapter 5
     
                  Heath shoves his foot into his steel toed Baffins. One more hour of sleep wouldn’t have killed him. The previous twelve hour shift had been the kind of hell that left you too tired to actually fall asleep. He’d tossed and turned for hours before deciding to beat off to soothe his nerves. Usually that was the magic that sent him right into La-La Land.
                  Not this time, though. Nooooo. He’d been so annoyed with himself when the image of Cary riding his cock had popped into his head, the feel of Cary’s heat enveloping his cock and their skin touching, that he’d ended up over thinking—something no one would ever have accused him of before. Not until fucking Cary Whitmore. And he couldn’t figure out why.
                  Maybe that’s the problem? He couldn’t help wondering if he’d just turned that fucking awesome sex into something different in his mind because it had been so awesome. He’d been running into Cary for so long, assuming the man would be shy and easily tamed in the sack, only to find out instead that he wasn’t afraid to give in and ride Heath on an office chair. It almost felt like the sex gods had answered some prayer he hadn’t even realized he’d sent up. He had had good sex with a guy he actually didn’t mind speaking to outside the closed doors of the … Office.
                  “Cummings, get a move on.” The engineer, Chester, banged on the door to Heath’s bunk room. His Alabama drawl grating this early in the morning. “A gully warsher’s comin’ down this mornin’. New guys are fuckin’ things up left and right.” His voice took on a mocking tone, which wasn’t surprising since even with ten years experience, Heath wasn’t up to snuff in Chester's book. “They need your expertise.” Heath didn’t even need to see the air quotes to know the old bastard had used them.
                  “Give me five!” he snapped. He wasn’t any more excited about going out in a fucking sea storm than anyone else. In fact, it sounded like hell.
                  He only had to make it one more twelve then he’d be heading home in the morning. Maybe he’d take one more go at the offering the sex gods had sent his way. Who looked a gift horse in the mouth? And it’d been a while since he’d gone back for seconds. He couldn’t resist that ass much longer, with its shapely mounds, and who could forget the trim line of the man’s body, and those hauntingly muted hazel eyes?
                  Really? Waxing poetic about his eyes? It was official, Heath was losing it.
     
    *****
    Heath was always happiest when he had just finally made it home. No more bunks, no more cheap ass motel rooms, just the comfort of his own space. He fell back onto his bed. The sheets on his bed were unmade and smelled of his own fabric softener, the air smelled of sand and sea rather than grease and sun-baked, unwashed flesh.
    First order of business was a shower, maybe a beer and some serious sleep time, in no certain order. He feared sleep may take over sooner rather than later if he didn’t force himself up from his bed. He grunted as he shifted around to