Forsaking Truth (15 page)

Tristan pulled at
Luke’s shirt and he lifted his arms as Tristan proceeded to strip him of it and
toss it to the ground. “Suck my cock,” he said, pressing Luke’s shoulder low.

Luke dropped to his
knees and undid his pants. Tristan didn’t touch him. He folded his hands at his
back and waited. Luke grabbed his flesh and tugged.

“I said suck it.”

Luke glared at him.
“You think I mind sucking your dick?” he asked challengingly.

Tr
istan shrugged. “Open your mouth and show me.”

“All right,” Luke
answered, a little too calm.

Tristan stepped
forward and fed his cock between Luke’s lips. He moaned as Tristan thrust deep.
“Take all of me. Show me how much you love my cock.”

His mouth low
ered and Tristan saw him struggle with the fullness at the
back of his throat. “Breathe. That’s it.”

His dick grew wet with
Luke’s saliva as his mouth tunneled over him, each time getting closer and
closer to the base. When he started easing back and dicki
ng around at the tip, Tristan cupped the back of his head
and pulled him closer.

“Open for me.” He
pressed deep and the softness at the back of Luke’s throat constricted over
him. “Look at me.”

Glassy eyes gazed up
at him.

“That’s my cock you’re
sucking.
Now show me how much you love it.”

Luke’s eyes flared and
he went crazy. His mouth pumped rapidly over his shaft as his fingers dug into
Tristan’s flexing thighs. It was messy and hot as hell. He couldn’t believe
this was only the second time Luke had done
this.
Holy fuck, his mouth was amazing.

Every time he praised
him or gave him direction, Luke showed that initial sign of defiance, but then
did exactly as he was asked. It was like watching a wild stallion get broken
in.

At first he was
fierce. Rebelliou
s blue eyes challenged every demand
placed on him, but soon he was gentled, calmed. Luke would never be completely
tame. He had too much animal in him. Tristan had no doubt he’d be taking his
licks later for demanding the reins. But he needed to make it pe
rfectly clear he was no pushover.

If Luke was truly his
man, there would be no room for anyone else. He’d never felt so possessive of
another person before. Flirting he could take, but the invitations had to stop.
Luke needed to know who buttered his brea
d just the
way he liked it.

“I’m coming,” he
warned, giving Luke time to pull back.

He didn’t. “In my
mouth,” he rasped falling onto his heels and opening wide.

The invitation excited
him and quickened his release. Tristan jerked his cock and his climax
spilled onto Luke’s tongue and chin. His skin prickled as
his body tightened. Incredible.

When he finished, Luke
grinned, blinding him with that devastating dimple, licking his lips, moaning,
satisfied. “You’re the only person I’ll ever let boss me around
like that,” Luke said. “And now, I’m gonna fuck the shit
out of you.”

“That so?”

“On your back,
cowboy.”

His heart raced.
“Should we go to the bed?”

“You can try. Doubt
you’ll make it.”

Tristan felt the side
of his mouth kick up in a grin. He only made it
half
a step when Luke had him on his back. They wrestled and laughed and when Luke
filled him, Tristan took it as his due, handing back the control he’d borrowed.
He didn’t need the control like Luke did.

Besides, there was
nothing better than being completely possessed by this man and knowing his
desire was enough to push him to the brink of madness. When they made it to the
bed, it was well past midnight.

They set the alarm for
four and snuggled into eac
h other’s arms. Yes, they
had to exist in secret. And yes, it wasn’t always gonna be easy. But nothing—
nothing—
could make either one of them walk away
at this point.

“Baby, did you see
what I did with the shampoo I bought?” Tristan aske
d
as he sifted through the things on the counter.

Luke’s mug of coffee
clicked as he set it on the granite counter top. His arms wrapped around
Tristan’s torso, the stubble of his unshaven jaw abrading his shoulder.

“I already put it in
the bathroom.”

Tri
stan picked up his mug and stole a sip, puckering at the
amount of sugar Luke always doused his first cup with. Turning, he grinned and
kissed Luke’s cheek as he headed toward the bathroom.

He went to his drawer
and withdrew a thermal and jeans.

“We shoul
d call out today,” Luke said, watching him from the door of
the bedroom.

Tristan gave him a
doubtful look. It had been six weeks and they’d finally found their way. Never
before had Tristan been this happy. Things were far from perfect, but he was
hopeless
ly and irrevocably in love with this
devastating man.

“You know we can’t do
that. We’re clearing out the 300
^th
Acre today. Your dad’ll be pissed if we don’t show up.”

Luke sighed. “I know,
but it’s tempting.”

It was. Exceedingly
so. He hustled into the bat
hroom, tossing his clothes
on the wide vanity sink—right next to the little jar holding both their
toothbrushes—and turned on the shower. “You better get the lead out if you
don’t want to be late.”

They showered and
dressed. Luke drove them to work as he u
sually did.
Luckily they left before dawn so no one really noticed they always arrived
together.

They’d worked out a
bit of a routine. Every night, after ten, Tristan would slip out of the house
and walk around the block where Luke’s truck awaited. They’d
return to the barn, have a late night snack, and head off
to bed together. It helped that they worked at the same place, because most
assumed Luke picked Tristan up each morning.

Ryan was the only one
that knew what was actually going on. This made Luke
incredible
uncomfortable and he’d yet to confront his cousin’s knowledge of the situation.

When Tristan told Luke
that Ryan knew they were a couple, they’d had their first fight.

“You had no right to tell my relative
something so personal about me without
asking!” Luke
had stormed slamming the fridge after grabbing a beer.

Tristan calmly folded his arms over his
chest. “He may be your cousin, but he’s my best friend.”

“Well, so am I!”

“Stop shouting.”

“No. I’m fucking pissed off and I’d
rather shout than
break something.”

“Luke, he won’t tell anyone. If
anything, this will work in our favor. Ryan knows how private you like to keep
your business and he knows this isn’t something we want to broadcast to the
family or the locals. He’ll cover for us when thing
s
get sketchy. I’m staying here every night. We arrive at work together every
morning. Rosemarie and Liam wonder why they never pass me on the way to the
bathroom anymore or see one less cup of coffee in the pot after I’ve supposedly
gone.”

“I don’t want p
eople
in our business.”

“And they’re not. You’re overreacting.
Ryan’s known I’m gay for four years now and he’s never betrayed my trust or
made me feel like anything less than anyone else.”

“He works with us, Tristan. I can feel
him judging me.”

Tristan tr
ied
to force a calming breath as he bristled at Luke’s use of the word ‘me’. When
he became so single mindedly self-involved and forgot they were an ‘us’ it
really pissed him off. “No one is judging you.”

“Bullshit.”

“What’s he judging, Luke?” he’d finally
shouted, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “That
you’re in love? That I love you back? That two people are in a committed
relationship? If you actually
talked
to him, you’d know the only feelings
Ryan has about our situation is envy and happiness. He
’s
happy we found each other, happy
we’re
happy. It’d be nice if you could, for
once, be happy about it too!”

“I am happy!”

“Then why are you shouting?”

“Because that information is fucking
private!”

Tristan looked at the floor and said in
a low voice. “Ri
ght. It’s always private with you.
God forbid you let those that love you get close. They’d never understand.
You’ve got them all figured out. Have their minds made up without even giving
them the opportunity of deciding for themselves.” He’d grabbed his k
eys off the counter. “They’re my friends too, Luke. And
they’re not a bunch of assholes. The only person passing judgment here is you.
I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

After that fight,
their relationship had been strained. Tristan had stayed away from the
barn for four long and lonely nights until Luke eventually
apologized. Tristan knew this was difficult for Luke. It wasn’t always a picnic
for him either, but it was utterly impossible to keep everyone in the dark. He
lived with Ryan. He was his best frie
nd. He simply
couldn’t lie to him about something as big as what he felt for Luke.

Since then, Luke had
made a good effort to not seem so ashamed of who and what they were, but
Tristan saw through the act. It was one thing to appear quietly indifferent abo
ut homosexuality. It was something altogether different to
change the channel whenever a gay man came on TV, which Luke had done in the
den at the big house.

As if he wasn’t
already man enough, Luke had to put out an aura that he didn’t want anything
sligh
tly feminine around him. The channel swap thing,
Tristan may have overanalyzed, but then, in the weeks that followed there were
other little comments that grated.

When Braydon came home
from college for a weekend, Luke had indulged in a long, intoxicated c
onversation about how hot some girl was. He slept alone
that night. Then there were the references about tits and what a nice set of
legs could do to a man.

Luke had four brothers
and Tristan was glad they were finally rediscovering Luke’s better side, but
when guy talk broke out it was never enough for Luke just
to sit there. He had to constantly make a point to the others that he liked
women. It wouldn’t be so aggravating if it was all bullshit, but the underlying
truth was, Luke wasn’t gay. He was bi.

Th
ey talked about it often, and only sometimes argued. Luke
didn’t understand how his cover was any different than having Ryan cover for
them with lies about where Tristan frequently disappeared.

Tristan accepted his
argument as a valid point. Maybe it was w
ise, in a
place like Center County for them to cover their tracks. But he preferred
simple discretion to muddying things up with lies.

It seemed a consistent
bone of contention between them and Tristan hoped it worked itself out. No
secrets stayed buried f
orever. He’d learned that the
hard way. He could only hope, that when their lifestyle was eventually exposed,
Luke would be prepared to deal with it.

By the time October
rolled in, Tristan’s southern blood was missing the warmth. Center County was
colder t
han a witch’s tit and his truck straight up
objected to driving in the frigid weather.

When Halloween
arrived, Luke and Tristan decided to join the others and go to the big blowout
at O’Malley’s. It was a good break to the usual and Tristan had found the
perfect costume.

Snapping his old
wranglers and clasping his largest belt buckle in place, he did up his flannel
and grabbed his hat. Luke was gonna get himself a real cowboy tonight.

They met in the
parking lot of O’Malley’s. The bar was packed. Women sca
mpered through the cold lot in little more than stockings and lingerie.
Shutting off his truck—which was really fighting the nip in the air—Tristan
waited until Luke’s truck pulled up.

Climbing out, he
headed to where he parked. Luke’s lights shut off, the
door creaked open and down stepped two black boots, long, tapered blue pants,
and a fitted midnight blue shirt. “Arrest my heart,” Tristan said quietly.
“You’re the sexiest police officer I’ve ever seen.” Luke turned with a smile,
fitting his shiny brimme
d police hat on his head.
“You got cuffs on that belt we can play with later?”

As Luke looked at
Tristan’s costume his eyes flared with desire then his smile turned to a scowl.
“Jesus Christ, we’re the fucking Village People.”

These were the moments
Trista
n envied gay men that had partners who embraced
the lifestyle. He’d never get Luke anywhere close to a gay cruise ship. Even
there, he’d be too uptight to unclench.

He made light of the
comment. “Mmm…and they want you as a new recruit.”

Luke’s scowl darken
ed. He turned and tossed his hat back in his truck. “I’m
not going in there like this.”

For the love of fuck.
“Will you knock it off? I’m sure you’re not the only man in uniform tonight. Do
you think everyone will suspect I’m fucking every sailor, biker, a
nd native inside? You’re being ridiculous.”

“Lower your voice,”
Luke hissed.

That was it. Tristan yanked off his own hat and
snapped, “I’ll make it easy for you. I’m going in. You can follow or leave. I
won’t even look at you so no one accidently mistakes
you for anything but straight, because we all know what a travesty that would
be for big man Luke McCullough.”

He turned and shoved
his way into the bar. Kelly was slammed behind the counter and Sheilagh was
hustling drinks out to the tables. Her red hair
was
down and curled under, tucked behind one ear. He noticed her right away because
it was kind of impossible to miss the full length, ruby sequined gown catching
reflections from every flickering light in the bar.

Tristan hovered by the
corner of a bistr
o table in the back where people had
left purses and glasses to go dance. When Sheilagh saw him, she smiled. “Hey,
cowboy! You look great!”

Deciding not to let
Luke ruin his night, he hugged her. “Thanks. And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Jessica Rabb
it,” she said, then posed shooting her leg out of the slit
that traveled all the way up to the top of her thigh. “
I’m
not bad. I’m just drawn that way.”

He laughed at her
perfect pout and purr. Dragging a finger up her leg he whistled. “Better not
let your
brothers catch you showin’ off all that leg,
baby girl.”

Her smile fell and her
bare shoulders slowly shifted as she drew in a long breath. Her eyes locked
with his and he frowned.

“What’s wrong, Shei?”

It took her a second,
but eventually she shook her
head. “Nothin’,” she
rasped. Pressing her painted lips together, she cleared her throat. “Listen, I
gotta get back to work. What are you drinking? Soon as I have a sec I’ll bring
it right over.”

He handed her a ten.
“I’ll take a bottle of Bud.”

Once Sheila
gh took off, Tristan settled into one of the chairs. He
watched the door for Luke, but didn’t see him come in. Checking his phone, he
saw no missed texts or calls. He didn’t know if he left or came in while he was
talking to Sheilagh.

A band played and the
dance floor was packed. Sheilagh kept his drinks coming
and whenever she had a second she kept him company. He was about to call it a
night when he saw a familiar police uniform on the dance floor.

“You gotta be fucking
kidding me.” Luke’s hands were all
over Dorothy’s
hips as he danced between her and the Wicked Witch of the West. “Motherfucker,”
he hissed and finished his beer.

“Need another one?”
Sheilagh said from his left, sneaking up on him.