Strung Up: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella (8 page)

“Awesome.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

* * * *

I pulled up to Cres’s place around lunchtime. He lived in a log house—not the norm in Eastern Colorado. Off to the left side by the garage stood a row of evergreens. On the right side was a corral and a metal barn. I gave the rest of the area a passing look after Cres ambled out of the house and paused at the top of the steps on the front porch.

Immediately after I climbed out of my rig, a dog tore out of the barn, snapping and snarling as it barreled toward me.

Cres bounded down the steps, yelling, “Banjo, knock it off.”

By the time the Australian shepherd skidded to a stop by head-butting my knees, he’d lowered his hackles and was wagging his tail. I crouched down to pet him. “Banjo, huh? Bud, I’m afraid your bark is worse than your bite.”

Banjo yipped and tried to lick my face.

I grinned and let him. I missed having a dog.

“Banjo, go lay down,” Cres commanded.

The dog circled me one more time before he trotted up the porch steps and out of sight.

I stood and propped my hands on my hips. Let him take the first stab at conversation.

He said, “Let me guess. You were just in the neighborhood.”

“It’s a hard place to find without GPS.”

“It’s an even harder place to find when my name, address, and phone number are unlisted.”

“Sutton asked me to return your pneumatic drill. Blame him for breaching your privacy. But he refused to give me your cell phone number, so it’s kind of a wash.” I paused. “Then again, he did tell me about Mick. So you might want to chew his ass about that.”

His posture stiffened. “What’d he say about him?”

“More than you did, that’s for damn sure. So I’m here because I wanna hear it from you, Cres. I’ll even tell you where I want you to start. Back to our conversation last night when I asked what you’d been up to and all you said was ranching with Wyn.”

Cres turned and focused on a spot beyond the horizon, giving me his profile. The muscle in his jaw bunched and I could almost hear him grinding his teeth together.

Seemed like an hour passed, but when I glanced at my watch, it’d only been five minutes. Still, that was a long time to exist in silence.

You don’t need this. Sure, you like Cres. Maybe you’ve always liked him a little too much. But right now, he’s a former hookup. That’s all he sees you as. Take the hint and move on.

Cres remained in the “stare at nothing” state when I took the drill out of the back of my truck and carried it to the porch.

I paused behind him and said, “Take care.” I’d almost made it to the sanctity of my truck when Cres spoke.

“I loved Mick. We were inseparable almost from the moment we met. He died just over two years ago when a car slipped off its jack and crushed him.”

An ugly death. Accidents left survivors with too many “what if” scenarios and guilt the accident could’ve been prevented. I ached for him.

“When you told me that you lost everything after you were outed on the circuit, my first thought was…you don’t really know what it’s like to lose everything.”

The anger in his tone? Not a surprise. The derision? Unnecessary and unfair. I faced him. “Death trumps everything. Got it. Sorry that I burdened you with my insignificant life problems. Don’t worry. You’re still the champ in the ‘shittiest life event’ contest that I didn’t realize we were playing.” I stepped closer to the driver’s side door. “Sorry for your loss, Cres.”

“Don’t go.”

I paused with my boot on the running board.

“I know I sound like a dick. But I didn’t get to finish that train of thought before you jumped in,” Cres said testily.

“I’m listening.”

“For a year and a half, I believed I’d lost everything when Mick died. It’s just been in the past few months that I could face the truth.
I
gave up everything as a result of Mick’s death. He’s the only thing I lost. But I can’t go back and I’ve been fucking petrified to try to go forward. I haven’t talked to anyone about it.”

That admission smoothed the rough edges of my anger.

“Seein’ you last night…was the first time I felt like movin’ on.” Cres jammed his hand through his hair. “Trauma, grief, whatever is not a competition. I’m sorry if it sounded like I one-upped you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Mick last night?”

His head snapped up. “Because I wanted to see if I could be a normal single guy again. Acting on an attraction to a hot guy who knew nothin’ about what I’d been through.”

“And?”

“And you were there. I fucking ran out on you when it got to be too much.”

“You also gave me one helluva blowjob. You almost had me coming in my jeans before you stripped them off and made me come again.” I locked my gaze to his. “From where I’m standing, you had no problem acting on your attraction to me.”

Cres broke eye contact. “I said his name.”

“What?”

“When I started to come, I said Mick.” His gaze returned to my face. “That’s why I ran out.”

“And you thought I’d what? Knock you on your ass if you told me that?”

He erased the distance between us and got right in my face. “Why the hell are you bein’ so reasonable about this, Breck?”

I have no fucking idea.

I fisted my hand in his shirt and hauled him closer. “Because I want more of you, dumbass. A whole lot more.” My mouth crashed down on his and I kissed the shit out of him. He had an aggressive streak, but it was nothing compared to mine. Nothing.

He wasn’t the only one who’d had a recent revelation. I’d stared at the damn ceiling for three fucking hours after he’d left last night. Not only wondering what had happened to make him run, but wondering when I’d lost my goddamned balls and hadn’t chased after him. When had I turned into the mild-mannered gentleman cowboy who hid in his motor home? I’d always been the guy who went after what he wanted—men, women, championships, sponsorships. I’d let the system, a goddamned system that failed me, dictate the kind of man I became after I’d risen from the ashes of my spectacular crash and burn.

No. More.

Cres eased up on the kiss. He kept one hand twined in my hair and the other hand flattened on my chest. “Sorry I fucked up and didn’t tell you about Mick.”

“I’m not the same asshole guy I used to be.”

“You never were an asshole to me, Breck.”

There was that sweetness again.

Cres confessed, “I’m still a little screwed up.”

“Aren’t we all screwed up about something?”

“I guess.” He sighed. “I gotta admit, this isn’t goin’ like I envisioned when I saw your Jeep pull up. But I am really glad you chased me down.”

“I should’ve done it last night. But bein’s I was buck-ass nekkid and you weren’t, you had a head start.” I slid my hand beneath his jawbone and feathered my thumb across his bottom lip. “It turns me the fuck on when your lips get like this, full and red and shiny. I could get used to seein’ them like that all the time.”

Cres’s body went taut.

Even when I had good intentions, I somehow messed up by saying or doing the wrong thing. “What’s wrong?”

“Just because I said I was testing the waters to see if I’m ready to move on, I’m not lookin’ for a relationship ever again.”

“Never?”

“Love ain’t worth the trouble of the heartache you get when you lose it.”

I should’ve run then. Instead, I shrugged as if my heart wasn’t hurting for him. And hurting for myself since I’d never been lucky enough to have that kind of love. “I’m not here for the long haul anyway.”

His gaze turned shrewd. “How long are you here?”

“For the first session, which is nine weeks. Then I’ll decide if I’m cut out for teachin’. But I’ll warn ya, I’ve still got itchy feet even after spending twenty years livin’ on the road. I like it. It’s part of who I am so I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“We’ll be in the same area for nine weeks. We could have a lot of fun together exploring this. If it gets boring, we’ll end it, no harm, no foul.” That wasn’t entirely true. I’d pull out all the stops to ensure we’d spend every free moment of those nine weeks together.

“Just fucking? No relationship?”

I continued to stroke his lip as my gaze wandered over his face. “Even if we’re just fucking, Cres, we
are
in a relationship. That can be whatever we want it to be outside of the hot sex. My days of sharing are over.” I figured it’d be hard enough sharing him with the ghost of Mick.

He tried to drop his chin to hide his eyes, but that was bullshit.

I forced him to meet my gaze. “No more half-truths or secrets. Talk to me. Even if you think it’ll piss me off.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since Mick,” he blurted out. “That’s the other reason I ran out. I wasn’t sure how far I could go.”

“Guess we’ll see if I can convince you to go all the way with me.” I grinned. “It wasn’t too difficult that week you came to Denver…I had your cock in my mouth within two hours of us meeting. I had you bent over with my cock in your ass that same night.”

He groaned. “Smartass. Be serious. This could be a problem.”

“If we get to a point that you’re freakin’ out, tell me. I ain’t gonna get mad or jealous about Mick. I don’t have a right to it. But I ain’t gonna lie. I want the rights to this.” I reached down and palmed his hard-on, letting my fingers slide back and rub his balls. “If I had my way? I’d blow you right here against the side of my Jeep to remind you how good it is between us.”

His cock jumped beneath my palm and his eyes burned hot.

Interesting.

“What ranch chores you doin’ this afternoon?”

“Nothin’ pressing this week. Why?”

“I thought I’d give you the tour of Grade A Rodeo Academy if you weren’t busy later. Then I could fix us supper and we could hang out for a while tonight.”

Cres’s eyes narrowed. “You cook?”

“I’m a thirty-eight-year-old bachelor. Of course I cook.” I leaned in and dragged my lips across his ever so slightly. “We did more than fuck and suck that week in Denver.”

“Then why did you bail on me? I showed up that last morning and you’d already gone.”

It’d sound like I was pandering if I told him our connection had spooked me because it’d happened so fast. Cres deserved more than the man I’d been at that time of my life—secretive and on a path of self-destruction. Being my usual dickish self, I’d left him first before he could leave me. “I’m not tryin’ to charm my way into your jeans when I say I thought about you a lot over that next year.”

“Same here. I intended to talk to you at Sutton and London’s wedding. I’d heard you were on a destructive path and when I saw firsthand how bitter and angry you’d gotten, I thought maybe I could get through to you. But then…”

“Then you met Mick.”

“Yeah.”

“Was it lust at first sight?”

“He was buff as fuck, so that part of the attraction was a no-brainer. But he worked with Sutton and I hadn’t been out long enough to know if it was…” He scratched his chin. “Acceptable, I guess…to go after a guy if I wasn’t sure that he preferred sucking a prick to eating a pussy.”

I laughed. “Crude. So how’d you figure out he was a dick-smoker?”

Cres held his fist up for a bump. “Equally crude. And if I would’ve said that to Mick? He would’ve blushed and stammered. For bein’ former military, he had few vices.”

“Besides lovin’ the D,” I said slyly.

“Yeah. Anyway I think we were at a community barbecue and we got to talkin’. He asked me out for coffee. We had a few dates. I hadn’t been too sure about him in the beginning since he didn’t have much experience. But he was eager. And the more I got to know him, the more I realized Mick was just one of those genuinely good guys. Honest, brave, and true. Helpful, loyal, obedient.”

I didn’t point out it sounded like he was describing a dog.

“He stuck around after my dad had his heart attack. He helped Mel when she had issues with her diabetes. His sweet nature appealed to me, you know? Then after the first time we fucked, he moved in.” Cres blinked. “Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to go off on a mangent.”

“Mangent?”

“When you don’t shut up about the guy in your life.”

I chuckled. “Never heard that one before.”

He smirked. “Because you’re old.”

“Hilarious. Guess I’ll toddle off to the old folk’s home, sonny boy, and drink my Metamucil before
Wheel of Fortune
comes on.”

Cres laughed. I liked to hear it because I suspected there hadn’t been much humor in his life in recent years.

I fished my phone out of my back pocket. “Hit me with your number.” As soon as I had the info saved, I sent him a text. “Now you have mine.”

“Good. I’ll be there about three.”

“That’ll work. Text me if anything changes.”

Chapter Five

Breck

Patience—a trait I’d never had much use for.

Practicing restraint? Not a natural reaction for me either.

But I had no choice but to implement both from the moment Cres had shown up for his personal tour of Grade A Rodeo Academy.

When I’d shown him the empty classrooms I’d exercised restraint, even when my brain kept replaying the image of me on my knees between Cres’s legs, my head bobbing as I noisily sucked him off as he braced himself against my desk.

I filed that away as a future possibility. That counted as patience, right?

Hour two into the tour, after I’d introduced him to the other instructors as Sutton’s brother and we’d chatted with Berlin and Chuck Gradsky, I decided I deserved a fucking medal for patience, restraint, and circumspection for not dragging his sexy ass into the boiler room and fingering his prostate until he jizzed all over my chest.

Yeah, that scenario would shock the stuffing out of Bill, the groundskeeper. But I’d put a note in the suggestion box that maybe the boiler room door needed a proper lock.

I was getting the hang of this “being a team player” shit.

By hour three—Cres’s patience had worn thin.

And that tested the fuck out of my restraint because we were near the end of the tour.