Chapter Thirteen

“So, how was your fantasy?” Rush gazed at the night sky. They’d lain silent for a long time, just being together.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Not quite complete.”

“There’s more?” Rush’s eyebrow cocked upward.

“Oh, yeah. There’s so much more.” He slid his hand down Rush’s body, caressing, firm and smooth, until he found Rush’s still engorged cock. “Like this.”

Rush moaned. “Fuck, that’s good.” Like a cat, he stretched as he enjoyed the warmth and steadiness of Brian’s hand on his heated, throbbing flesh. Watching Brian had been such a delight, but now, he meant to fuck his ass, and that would be heaven.

“Roll over,” Rush commanded.

Brian complied. “Are you going to fuck me?” he asked over his shoulder, a wicked grin on his lips.

“Hell, yeah.” He ran his fingertips over the globes of Brian’s ass. With his night vision, he could see clearly, the lighter skin, the faded tan line on his thighs from his swim trunks, the dark cleft that hid the entrance to what would soon be Rush’s own personal paradise.

Brian spread his legs to accommodate Rush.

Brian reached for the basket, grabbed the lube, and passed it to him. “Here, take care of me. Get me ready for you.” He rose on his elbows and turned his head to watch.

Rush lubed his fingers and resumed his journey through the gap between Brian’s tight ass. He ran his finger over the hole, circled it, and Brian’s hole clenched as he sucked air in. The skin puckered then relaxed. Brian’s light fur gave the cleft a soft, silky feel. Rush groaned as he pushed a fingertip in, parting the taut ring and raising a needy noise from Brian.

Rush’s cock stiffened at the sounds his lover made in response to his touch.

“Goddamn, cowboy. Ride me hard.” Brian reached back, grabbed Rush’s thigh and held him.

Rush didn’t need any more urging. If he didn’t get inside Brian soon, he’d shoot his load all over the blanket.

Brian tilted his ass to give him better access. Rush spread his legs, lowered his groin down to meet Brian’s, and guided his oiled cock to that sweet place.

“So sweet, darlin’, so fucking sweet,” Rush crooned as he eased in, parting the warmth of Brian’s ring. This was like no fuck he’d ever had. Brian was like no man he’d ever had. He’d wanted men before, but he needed Brian.

Completely. Desperately. Shamelessly.

“Fuck, yeah,” Brian answered and pushed back. His opening gave way and took Rush deep.

A shudder ripped through Rush. He was balls-deep in the ass of the man he loved. There could be no denying it anymore. His heart couldn’t lie to him—his soul couldn’t be false. He loved Brian.

Elation flooded him. Joy and completion.

Then the terror hit.

He wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Shit, Brian. I’m sorry. I forgot the rubber.” He began to pull out. Was it too late?

“Don’t care, cowboy. Fuck me.”

“But…” Rush froze, remembering what Brian had said about waiting.

“You’re the right man, Rush.” Brian pushed back against his dick and Rush’s fears careened away into the night.

Fuck it all, fuck the ranch, fuck the stupid, small-minded town. Rush drove into Brian, forgot his doubts, and let the sheer joy and ecstasy of this mating fill him.

Rush rode Brian, but Brian led the way. Each stroke was met with a squeeze that nearly killed Rush. He’d never fucked without a condom. It was so much better, so much more intense, so damn incredible. No wonder people took chances, risked death.

So tight, so secure, so hot and silky, Brian’s muscles held him in their power.

Powerless to keep from loving Brian.

Rush fell onto Brian’s back. Short, hard, desperate thrusts as his arms encircled Brian’s chest, his face rubbed along Brian’s stubbled cheek. Their breath came in deep pants, grunts and soft, whispered moans. He heard the slap of his cum-filled balls against Brian’s body, and it was too goddamn much.

“Oh, God, darlin’. I… I…” He couldn’t say the words. He kissed Brian’s cheek, licked his way to Brian’s ear, and took it between his teeth and bit down.

Brian groaned and pushed back into Rush’s hips as they rutted.

“You don’t have to say it. Not until you’re ready.” Brian’s hot breath warmed his face.

Rush buried his face in Brian’s neck, lost in their primal mating. He clung tighter as his balls prepared to unload.

“Love you, cowboy,” Brian whispered.

Rush sobbed once when he came, then bit Brian’s shoulder to stop the string of sobs that welled from inside him as his emotional walls collapsed. He’d never heard those words from anyone other than his mother. Unaware of how much he’d secretly craved them and how long he’d denied needing to hear them, the words hit him like an epiphany, and he was struck dumb.

“Shhh…shhh…cowboy. It’s okay,” Brian soothed, lying beneath Rush.

Their bodies rocked, slowed, then stopped. Reaching out, he entwined his fingers with Rush’s and lifted them to his lips.

Unable to think, or feel anything but a welcome numbness that stole over his body, Rush pushed off, his softening cock slipping from Brian’s ass. Brian rolled onto his side and gathered Rush to him with one hand and with the other, pulled the cover over them.

Back in their cocoon, warm, sated, exhausted, they slept.

 

* * * *

 

Rush woke, ran a hand over his face, and forced open his eyes. Dawn was creeping up on them, the grass covered in dew. He turned his head and looked at Brian, asleep next to him. Rush had never spent the night in a lover’s arms, had never woken in the morning and shared the hundred little things men do to start their day.

Doing that would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He loved Brian. He’d known that deep inside, he just wouldn’t let the knowledge become reality. Until last night. That had been a mistake.

Brian had told him that he loved him. That had been one glorious moment.

But still a mistake. Now, both their hearts would be broken.

In the light of the new calm, sex-free day, Rush knew this was never going to be. In the heat of passion, he’d thought he could give up the ranch, give up his life and his legacy, but that had been just the sex talking.

His need to run slammed into him. Heart beating wildly, throat tight, he slipped from under the blanket, gathered his clothes from the pile and dressed without a sound, then shoved on his boots. As he stepped onto the patio, he paused, his back to Brian.

If he crossed the stones to the back gate, he’d be through it and out of Brian’s life.

Brian had set the rules and Rush had no doubt Brian had meant every word.

“Leaving so soon?” Brian’s voice was clear, not too loud. Not accusing, either. He just sounded interested, as if he’d asked if Rush took sugar with his coffee.

“Needed a smoke.” Rush reached for the pack in his shirt, dug his lighter out, and stuck a cigarette between his lips, still not facing Brian. If he gazed into Brian’s eyes, he’d break. Shatter into a million pieces.

“And you had to get dressed for that?”

 

Brian observed his cowboy. Shoulders hunched, spine stiff, head down, the cigarette dangling from those full lips. He could only see part of the big man’s face. Rush had turned away as if to shield himself from Brian.

Couldn’t face him, huh? He’d been sneaking out, no doubt about that.

Brian sighed. Rush looked like a deer, unsure whether to bolt or hunker down in its hiding place. If he moved suddenly, what would Rush do?

Bolt.

If Brian knew one thing, it was that the cowboy was scared. The first time Brian had been told “I love you” had been frightening, but wonderful, and he’d walked around for weeks with a goofy grin.

Rush was frightened, all right. But there was no goofy grin, and it hurt Brian’s heart to know it hadn’t been wonderful, for whatever fucked-up reason.

Fucked up.

That was just what this was.

Brian put on his jeans as Rush smoked, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. Tense. Mute. Ready to run.

Picking up his shirt and boots, Brian walked past Rush to the back door and climbed the steps. He turned to check out the man he’d told “I love you” last night.

Rush glanced away.

“I’m fixing breakfast. Why don’t you eat something before you go home?” Then he slipped inside the house, leaving the door open.

He placed his boots in the laundry room and tossed his shirt into the hamper. Bare-chested and barefoot, he prepared the coffeemaker, grabbed the bacon and eggs, and turned on the stove. Set the table.

Rush would come in or leave. That simple.

It had been too much, telling him. Still, he’d been sure the cowboy was on the verge of saying it himself. Too much, too soon. Shit. He’d ruined whatever chance he’d had with the cowboy.

He fried the bacon. Wondered if Rush liked it crispy.

Still no Rush.

Brian bit his lip as his shoulders sagged.

It could have been so good.

 

Rush’s gaze slid to the door. He could smell the bacon cooking and his stomach rumbled. Pulling the last draw from his cigarette, he dropped it, ground it out with the toe of his boot, and blew out a stream of gray smoke. He stooped, picked it up, and glanced around for somewhere to throw it.

The garbage can would be inside.

Brian was inside, cooking breakfast. Was he that sure Rush would come in?

Now or never. Cowardly cur or brave man?

It might work. Maybe they could make it work.

He’d never know if he didn’t try. It was already too late for his heart. If he left, it would be broken, but if he stayed?

Rush shoved the crushed butt into the pocket of his jeans, went up the steps, and opened the door.

Brian stood at the stove.

“How do you want your eggs?” he asked, as if this was a just a regular morning and Rush hadn’t almost walked out on him.

“Over easy.” Rush spotted the table. It had been set for two. His heart skipped a beat or three.

“Potatoes or grits?”

“Grits.” He barely got the word out.

“Coffee is almost ready. Help yourself.”

Without thinking, Rush came up behind Brian, wrapped his arms around him, buried his face in Brian’s neck, and inhaled. He could still smell their lovemaking, like cologne, on Brian’s skin.

“I meant to the coffee, cowboy.” Brian chuckled. His free hand rested on Rush’s arm.

“Thanks,” Rush whispered.

“For what?”

“Setting a place for me.” Rush’s eyes stung, and he blinked hard.

“Anytime, cowboy. You’re always welcome here. Now, if you’ll pour the coffee, I’ll finish the eggs. Biscuits are almost done.”

Rush released Brian. “Cups?”

Brian pointed to a cabinet. Rush opened it, took one look at the line of mugs, each one with a different logo or saying printed on them, and laughed. “You weren’t kidding about your love of coffee mugs. Which one?”

“Guess?”

Rush picked up a mug. “Cowboy Butts Make Me Nuts?”

“That would be the one.”

“I’ll take the one that says, Where’s the Light in This Fucking Closet?”

Brian snorted and handed him a plate of bacon.

“Crispy. Just like I like it. How’d you know?”

“Isn’t that how all cowboys like it?” Brian shrugged and put the biscuits on the table.

Rush poured the coffee and put the mugs next to each place setting. Brian filled the plates with eggs, spooned out some grits, and they sat.

For a few moments, they busied themselves with buttering biscuits, fixing their coffee just the right way, then silence fell.

“So, what’s going on today, back at the ranch?” Brian bit into a jam-covered biscuit.

“The hands are off on the weekends. I usually keep the place going, do the chores.”

“Chores? Like milk the cows? Gather the eggs? Feed the chickens?” Brian’s eyes twinkled and Rush knew he was being teased.

“It’s a ranch, not a farm,” Rush growled and rolled his eyes. “City boys.”

“Sorry.” Brian winced. “Bust broncos? Ride bulls? Rope doggies?”

“Something like that.” Rush grinned. Brian’s kidding felt natural. “More like shoveling manure, giving the horses their feed, spreading hay for the cattle. Mostly maintenance stuff. The real hard work is done Monday through Friday by my hands.”

“How many do you have?” Brian asked as he buttered another biscuit. “And don’t say two,” he warned.

“Right now, five. But in the spring, I usually hire on a couple extra to help with the new calves, getting them branded and such.”

“How many baby cows do you usually have?”

“Calves. Not baby cows.” Rush chuckled. “Depends. Anywhere from twenty to forty.”

“And these hands of yours.” Brian winked. “What do they do during the week?”

“Mostly ride the fences, repair them, work on maintenance around the buildings, cut and bale hay.”

“Sounds like a lot of hard work.”

“It is. But it’s good work, you know. Can’t really see myself doing anything else.”

Shit. Why’d I go and say that?

“Guess it’s in the family, right?”

“Yep. How about you? Always been a PI?”

“No. Wanted to be a cop, but I went to college for engineering.”

“Wow. You must be pretty smart.”

Brian shrugged. “Mostly dumb if you ask my friends. But I love what I’m doing now. I get to help people, and that’s a good thing.”

“It is, indeed.” Rush nodded and smiled.

They finished eating, and Brian gathered their plates. Wiping his hands on a towel, he leaned back on the counter. “So, I guess you best be moseying along.”

“Yeah. I need to get back.” An hour ago, Rush had wanted to run as far from this man as he could get. Now, he found it hard to bring himself to leave.

Brian led the way to the front door, Rush on his heels. Brian reached for the knob, but Rush took his arm and pulled him back. Pressed him to the wall. Brian wove his hands into Rush’s hair and joined their lips in a hungry kiss.

Brian broke the kiss. “Going to miss you, cowboy.”

“Can I call you?” Rush rested his forehead against Brian’s.

“Anytime, day or night. I’ll be waiting, dick in hand.”

Rush groaned. “Why’d you have to say that? You know how talking dirty gets me hot.”

Brian laughed, gave him a soft kiss, and opened the door. “If you don’t leave now, I’m going to show you how a city boy uses his silk neckties to hog-tie a country boy.”

Rush had to be pushed out of the door. As he got into his truck, he gave Brian a quick wave goodbye.

Brian leaned in the doorway, folded his arms across his chest, and, looking sexy as hell, waved back.

A huge, goofy grin broke out across Rush’s face as he drove off.

He was a Weston man, and no coward.