A Fourth Very Dirty Dozen: The Very Dirty Dozen Story Collections, #4

By Hank Edwards

Hank Edwards has selected 10 steamy short stories previously published in erotic magazines and anthologies, plus 2 never before published stories, for this fourth collection of hot reads. Come on in and lose yourself in unique stories like "Rick's Greasy (S)poon," "Charlie Does the Big Top," or "Rest Stop Reunion." You'll meet hot bears in a frozen, apocalyptic wasteland, a horny, hungry college student, a group of dirty-minded friends who throw inhibitions to the wind during a poker game, and a return of LA's favorite funny and clumsy fluffer for hire, Charlie Heggensford. Keep this collection top of your list for hot, sizzling stories that'll keep you coming back for more!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hank Edwards
• Release date: Jun 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223049388

Hank Edwards

Hank Edwards has been writing gay erotic fiction for more than twenty years. He has written over two dozen novels and even more short stories. His writing crosses many sub-genres, including romance, rom-com, contemporary, paranormal, suspense, mystery, and wacky comedy. Find out more at www.hankedwardsbooks.com.

Book preview

A Fourth Very Dirty Dozen

A FOURTH VERY DIRTY DOZEN

THE VERY DIRTY DOZEN STORY COLLECTIONS

BOOK 4

HANK EDWARDS

MITTEN GINGER MEDIA

COPYRIGHTS

Copyright © 2022 by Hank Edwards

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Thaw was previously published in The Bears of Winter, Bear Bones Books, November 2014

Ricky’s Greasy (S)poon, was previously published in The Dirty Diner: Gay Erotica on the Menu, Bold Strokes Books, June 2012

Reunion on the Rails, was previously published in Riding the Rails, Bold Strokes Books, December 2011

Charlie Does the Big Top, was previously published in Tented: Gay Erotic Tales from Under the Big Top, Lethe Press, 2016

Old Glory, was previously published in Frat Boys: Gay Erotic Stories, Cleis Press, 2011

Ted and Breakfast, was previously published in Straight Guys: Gay Erotic Fantasies, Cleis Press, September, 2012

Love Among the Holidays, was previously published in Best Gay Love Stories 2006, Alyson Publications, 2006

Rest Stop Reunion, was previously published by Regent Media, Inc. , 2009, and Indecent Exposures: Gay Erotic Stories, Bruno Gmunder Verlag publications, 2013

Poker Buddies, was previously published in 100% Beef, issue 29, February 2007

Michael Saves Democracy, was previously published on cleansheets.com in 2008

The Spotter, copyright 2022

Bounty, copyright 2022

Cover art by Ron Perry Designs

CONTENTS

Thaw

Rick’s Greasy (S)poon

Reunion on the Rails

Charlie Does the Big Top

Old Glory

Ted and Breakfast

Love Among the Holidays

Rest Stop Reunion

Poker Buddies

Michael Saves Democracy

The Spotter

Bounty

About the Author

Also by Hank Edwards

THAW

I was invited to submit to an anthology titled The Bears of Winter, which was edited by the always awesome Jerry L. Wheeler, and published through Bear Bones Books in November, 2014. The idea for this story came to me in a flash of dystopian inspiration and Grizz and Eldritch were pretty much fully formed in my mind. I was trying to get away from my usual long narrative introductions, so an action scene kicks the story off. Reading it again after all this time, I like how sexy and hopeful it is, a sort of bear-themed star-crossed lovers coming together (so to speak) in a frozen world, and I’m proud to be part of this collection which includes other authors I admire, such as ‘Nathan Burgoine, Dale Chase, Jeff Mann, and Jeffrey Ricker.

THAW

Just yards from the ice cliff, a gust of wind caught Grizz mid-step and toppled him off his feet. He landed hard, the force of his fall sending him skidding down the slope he had just been traversing. Grizz tried to stop his slide by digging in with his hands but found no purchase. He stomped his foot down hard, but he was moving too fast for the spikes to catch.

Instead of stopping him, the move sent him into a spin and he slid even faster down the slope. A mild panic flared in his chest and buzzed through his head. Hundreds of feet below him, the slope ended in ragged chunks of ice and the twisted tops of hardwood trees along with what metal had yet to be scavenged off the tops of buildings, streetlights, and flagpoles. If Grizz hit that at any speed, he was dead.

Something shot past just above Grizz's head, and he jumped, cursing as he scrambled for a hold on something. He had no idea what had just zipped past; all he could focus on was slowing, and hopefully stopping, his descent. His fingers scraped over the ice, the gloves made from layers of fur and thick material providing protection from the rough ice surface as he fought to get his spin under control.

And then his legs tangled up in what must have been a power line, and his body snapped around. He felt a few vertebrae in his spine crackle as his torso stretched and twisted. The back of his head came up and thumped down against the ice, stunning him as he jerked to a sudden stop. The world spun around him, and a dull ache bloomed inside his skull. His breath clouded above his face as he slowly came back to awareness. What had happened?

Hold on!

Grizz started at the sound of the man's voice, and then he remembered what he had been doing before he'd slipped. Someone had been creeping along the base of the ice cliff, a Lowlander from all appearances, and Grizz had been about to deal with him. He sat up and tried to reach whatever had caught his ankles, but the motion made his head swim and he slumped back down. Grizz lay helpless, a feeling he was definitely not used to.

Don't move! Grizz could hear the sharp sounds of walking spikes striking the hard ice as the man made his way to him.

Couldn't if I wanted to, Grizz muttered.

Moments later, a handsome face appeared above him, eyes pale blue above a dark blond beard. The heat of attraction buzzed through Grizz as the man looked him over and asked, Are you hurt? Anything broken?

No, Grizz grumbled. His Uplander tribe didn't mix with the Lowlanders, so he didn't recognize the man. Grizz hated being at his mercy, but what more could he do? And it really didn't help that Grizz wanted the man to stop talking, stop trying to help, and just let him stare up into his amazing blue eyes. Shit, he must have really thumped his head hard.

I didn't think I was going to be able to stop you, the man said as he shifted position to inspect whatever bound up Grizz's ankles. You were sliding pretty fast.

You stopped me? Grizz asked.

The man turned those blue eyes back to Grizz and nodded. I did. A little thing I invented for when we go scavenging. Shoots out several lengths of rope with small weights on the ends.

Seems to work. Grizz lifted his head to look down at his feet, groaned, and lowered it again.

Head hurt? the man asked.

Yeah.

Sorry about the sudden stop, but I had to do something. The man worked at the ropes in silence for a bit, then asked quietly, Were you going to kill me?

What? Grizz opened his eyes and stared up at the gray clouds overhead. Always clouds, never sun. Not anymore.

You're an Uplander, the man said. You hate us Lowlanders, though no one's ever been able to tell me why. Lots of stories of Uplanders killing us. Some have claimed torture, as well.

You done yet? Grizz grumbled and lifted his head slightly to glare down at the ropes twined around his ankles, glad the dizziness was kept at bay this time.

Hold still, the man said. When you move, you tighten the ropes.

Fine. Grizz huffed out a breath that misted before his face.

You didn't answer my question, the Lowlander said.

Consider it a kind of torture, Grizz grumbled.

Was it weird that Grizz felt a warm sense of satisfaction when the Lowlander chuckled at his response?

As he lay on the ice, his head pointed at the deadly bottom of the slope, Grizz thought about all the hours he'd spent around the fire in his tribe's camp while growing up. The ice had left him an orphan, and the group had taken him in. He owed his life to them, and he considered how the older men: the big, brutal bear Wyzkowski, or the tall and calm Handler, or their strong and silent leader, Brock, all men Grizz fantasized about when he had a precious few moments to himself, claimed the Lowlanders stole resources from them.

Grizz lifted his head to check the man's progress. Fall asleep up there?

The rope's knotted pretty tight.

Some invention, Grizz said.

Would you prefer I let you hit the bottom?

Grizz tipped his head back and peered down at the shrapnel below him. No, he wouldn't have preferred that, but he wasn't about to admit that to a Lowlander, no matter how handsome. With his head tipped back, Grizz was in a better position to notice that the wind had shifted direction and picked up speed. He lifted his gaze from the bottom of the slope and looked out over the ice-covered lowlands. A heavy bank of dark clouds swirled in the distance, spinning together and growing darker even as Grizz watched.

Fuck. He lifted his head to look where the Lowlander still fumbled with the knot. Wailer coming.

The man looked at him, confusion showing in those amazing blue eyes. What?

Wailer. Grizz tipped his head back toward the clouds.

The Lowlander followed Grizz's gaze, and his eyes widened. Shit. That's going to be a hell of a Shrieker. He looked at Grizz. Is that what you meant by Wailer?

Wailer, Shrieker, whatever we call it, if we're out here when it hits, we're dead. Think you can put a rush on freeing me?

Hold still. I've almost got it.

You keep saying that, and I'm still hanging here.

Because you keep moving. Your wife must hate sleeping beside you.

Not married, Grizz replied, then rolled his eyes at his knee-jerk response. It was strange how those words had just tumbled right out of his mouth. Was he truly desperate enough for the touch of a man to tell this Lowlander he wasn’t married? Next he'd be blurting out that he had always dreamed of sucking cock, see if maybe the Lowlander would be so obliging before the Wailer struck and froze them both to death?

Big strong guy like you unmarried? The Lowlander shot a smirk at him, shifted his gaze to check the building storm, then pulled off his gloves and returned to work on the knotted rope.

Your fingers will freeze, Grizz stated.

Won't matter if we're out here when that Shrieker hits.

You can leave me, you know, Grizz said.

After I already saved you? The guy shook his head as he stared at the ropes in his fingers. Besides, this is my last length of rope.

That would explain why you haven't cut it yet.

You're quick.

Wish you were at untying knots.

You're funny, too. I never imagined Uplanders had much of a sense of humor.

Grizz grunted. Cute. I never thought Lowlanders were smart enough to invent something like this. A pellet of ice struck the center of Grizz's forehead. Ice pellets falling.

Almost there.

That's what she said, Grizz offered, feeling a warm flush when his rescuer laughed.

Suddenly, Grizz slipped farther down the slope. He slapped his hands down against the ice, but the only thing that stopped his descent was the Lowlander's hands on his ankle.

I got the knot out, the man said.

So I see.

I've got hold of your ankle. Do you have an ice pick or something?

On my leg, under the coat.

Can you reach it?

Grizz stretched his hand down, but he couldn't get to it. Can't reach.

Let me try.

Grizz felt the man's bare, ungloved hand move up his leg and, even though he was stretched out on the ice with a Wailer bearing down on them, his cock responded to the touch. It had been so long since someone had touched him, and a man had never laid hands on him. His body, his skin, his very heart and soul, were starved and wanted to gorge on the sensation.

The man fumbled with the ice pick where it was hooked to Grizz's belt. The Lowlander had to shift his own position and moved his hand up Grizz's thigh, deliriously close to Grizz's hardening cock.

Almost got it, the man said.

Right about that, Grizz mumbled.

Sorry, my fingers are just about numb, the Lowlander explained as he tugged at the ice pick.

More ice pellets struck Grizz's face and bounced off the ice around him.

Wailer's closing in, Grizz said.

Yeah? I didn't notice. Got it. Here.

Grizz gripped the handle of the ice pick, raised it, and drove the pointed end deep into the ice.

Steady? the man asked.

Feels that way.

I'm releasing you.

I'm ready.

The Lowlander released his grip and Grizz's body slid sideways until his legs pointed down the slope. Grizz held tight to the ice pick and got the spikes on the bottoms of his boots beneath him, slowly gaining ground until he finally stood up straight.

He tugged the ice pick free and looked down at the Lowlander who knelt before him struggling to pull his gloves over his numb fingers. The ice pick hung alongside Grizz's leg, deadly and quick. It would be over fast, and he could let the body slide down to the bottom of the slope where the Wailer would cover it in ice. The man might be missed, but his body would most likely never be found. Grizz had never killed a man, but it wouldn't be much different from killing one of the few deer left, or even a bear like he had two years ago.

Then the Lowlander looked up at him, blue eyes wide and trusting above the heavy scarf. Grizz blew out a breath and raised the ice pick high over his head then brought it down hard. The point chipped deep into the ice a few feet from the man, and Grizz gestured to its handle.

Use that for balance as you get to your feet.

Thanks.

When the man had gained his feet, Grizz worked the ice pick free and turned to look at the storm. The ice pellets fell faster and harder now. Grizz could feel the impact of some of them even through his heavy coat.

Close now, the Lowlander said. Too close to make it back to my camp.

Mine, either. Grizz looked at him. Any other inventions up your sleeve?

The man hesitated, glanced over at the ice cliff, then back at Grizz.

What? Grizz asked. If you know of a safe place, tell me now. We don't have much time.

The Lowlander stared at Grizz a moment, then nodded as if he had just come to some kind of important decision. Follow me.

They trekked across the slope toward the cliff, the wind and ice battering them and slowing their progress. The cliff afforded them some protection from the wind once they reached it. Grizz followed the Lowlander up the slope, keeping one hand trailing along the rough ice wall beside them.

Much farther? Grizz shouted over the wind.

Not much.

A narrow gap appeared in the ice wall, dark and impossible to see unless a person stood directly in front of it. Grizz watched as the man ahead of him turned sideways and slipped into the opening. He looked over his shoulder, saw a wall of sleet and ice bearing down on him as the Wailer reached full steam, then slid into the darkness of the gap, hoping he wasn’t stepping into some elaborate Lowlander trap.

Grizz stopped to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Outside, the Wailer hit full force, some of the ice and sleet making its way through the slender opening behind him. Ahead in the dark, he could hear movement as the Lowlander went deeper into the ice cave or fissure or whatever this place was. He hesitated, cautious but also curious. The wind screamed as it raged past the opening, and Grizz felt the wicked bite of the sub-zero temperatures even through his heavy layers. He couldn't loiter here by the opening too much longer; it was time to follow his rescuer into the dark.

He adjusted his grip on the pickax and said, Hello? His voice echoed back to him, along with the sound of the Lowlander's movements farther ahead of him. Or what he hoped was the Lowlander. Anything could have taken shelter inside this cave.

Hey, you aren't behind me, the Lowlander called from the dark. Just keep moving forward with one hand on the wall, and watch for slick spots on the floor.

Grizz took a breath, put his hand out to touch the smooth wall of ice to his left, and started forward. He hoped the members of his tribe up at the top of the slope had seen the approaching Wailer and taken shelter. Brock had most likely received word from the lookout they kept posted and gotten everyone down into the bunker.

He wondered if Brock had stood and scanned the land for any sign of Grizz, waiting until the last minute before climbing down into the bunker and pulling the door shut. He thought of Brock's thick dark beard, bright blue eyes, and big boisterous laugh and hoped the man had at least spared a thought for him.

Not that Grizz meant more to Brock than any other strong member of the tribe. But Grizz liked to think Brock held some kind of affection for him, even if it would never translate into a physical relationship. Of all the men living at their camp, Grizz was the only gay man. He had grown up among the other men, though, grown tough and cold along with them, and secretly fallen in and out of love with most of them. He'd been able to avoid the entanglements of being paired with a woman by luck and sheer stubbornness more than anything.

The rest of the members of his camp had to have figured out Grizz's tastes by now, but no one gave him any trouble about it. Not to his face, anyway. He was a good hunter, arguably their best, and he could scavenge nearly anything from the few places left to them. But Grizz had yet to lie with anyone, man or woman. Sometimes, as he lay in his bed beneath layers of furs, he wondered if he would die a virgin, never bedded and never loved.

You close now? the Lowlander asked from the dark, his voice low and slightly seductive, the words similar to those Grizz had overheard some nights while he'd been growing up and had shared sleeping quarters with another family. Those same words had been whispered among the rustle of bed covers and the sighs and grunts of the married couple who had thought he had fallen asleep along with their biological children.

Grizz cleared his throat and said, Yeah. Here.

Okay, good. You're going to want to close your eyes for this next part.

Grizz growled deep in his throat. Where are we? What is this place?

It's easier if I just show you, the Lowlander said. But it will be more comfortable for you if you close your eyes.

Why?

The light can seem bright at first.

Grizz frowned. Light? Like a torch?

No. Electric lights.

Shock rippled through Grizz. You have electricity? How?

Not at the camp, just here inside the cave. I'll explain soon, just close your eyes.

I don't like this.

Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Haven't I saved your life twice already?

Could be a trap.

Kind of a lot to go through for a trap. Look, fuck it, I'm switching on the lights at the count of one. Keep your eyes open if you want, I don't care. Okay? Here we go. Three, two, one.

Grizz closed his eyes, startled at the bright flare of strong light that turned the inside of his eyelids yellow.

Okay, you can open them now.

He eased his eyes open and found himself staring at a metal-framed doorway inside the wall of ice. A set of steps, also metal, led