Wild Thing (2 page)

Ryan saw the approaching truck with interest. At this distance, he could see a single silhouette and at the rate it bumped over the gravel road, spitting up silt, the driver was in one helluva hurry.

Another sighting of the Timber monster
?
He put away his empty coffee cup and dragged on his navy cotton sweater. Yesterday he’d been too cool waiting for his photo opportunities. Today, he’d be prepared. The truck skidded to a halt outside. Ryan didn’t have to be looking out the window to know it. Gravel had that heavy rushing sound when tires slid on it.
He cinched his woven belt around his hips. When Jack’s tread hit the first step of the wooden porch, Ryan swung the door open to greet him.
“You’re a little late for coffee. You oughta call ahead next time, and I’ll pour an extra cup for you,” Ryan teased.
Jack, hands on his hips, looked completely unimpressed with Ryan’s timing. “Funny guy, aren’t you?”
“I let other people decide that. If you have to tell people you’re funny, you aren’t.”
“Does it work the same way for honesty?” Jack asked.
Ryan didn’t know what he was getting at, but he had a feeling Jack would clear up the confusion soon. Either he did it on the front porch or inside. Being a private guy, Ryan preferred
inside
. He stepped back from the door, ushering Jack in.
“Looks like you have something on your mind,” Ryan noted.
Jack passed him, and Ryan let his gaze travel over the other man’s back to the tight ass inconveniently hidden by grey-green uniform Dockers. That view alone was worth a pissed Jack.
“So, you were maligning my character?” Ryan encouraged him to continue.
“Did you see the animal last night?” Jack asked tersely.
“Nope. Just me and the loons, a few herons, some leopard frogs…” he leant back against the now closed door, arms folded across his chest as he watched Jack work up a good steam.
“You saw
something
,” he pressed.
“What, like a UFO?” Ryan grinned.
“Quit fucking around, Walsh. You were in contact with a canine last night.”
“Really? Was I conscious, because I don’t remember that.”
“Your stuff is up on the rocks at Aitkin, like you tore out of there and you left behind blood and canine hair.”
Ryan sobered. Geez, how much did Jack know? “I set up a station and left for the night. I’m going back there today. What happened after I left isn’t in my control. But from the sounds of it, I might have some equipment replacing to do.” He busied himself pulling boxes of lenses out of drawers and putting them into a nylon bag.
“Take your shirt off,” Jack said calmly.
Now
that
was an interesting request. Ryan glanced at him over his shoulder, still bent over his bag. “How was that again?”
“There was a lot of blood on the rocks. If it’s not yours, you won’t have any scratch marks. Take off your shirt.”
Ryan slowly turned around. He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Didn’t think I was your type, Allen.”
Jack’s cheeks flushed but Ryan couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. The two expressions looked surprisingly similar, assuming he’d ever actually seen both on Jack before. His lips were pressed tightly together and his gaze dropped to the side.
Ryan sensed an exasperated sigh was coming. He wasn’t disappointed.
Jack did the cute little hand through his hair manoeuvre. “You aren’t obligated under any law. You can refuse to comply to my requests. But
goddamn
it, Ryan, I’ve known you for thirty-four years, if you’ve got nothing to hide, just show me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have anything to hide. I have lots of things I keep to myself.” He crossed the short distance to Jack. “Some of the secrets I keep have a way of making people uncomfortable.”
Jack blinked. “You haven’t scared me yet.”
Ryan held his gaze for another long moment, then he laughed and pulled his sweater over his head. He wadded it up in his hand and held his arms out to his sides. “Well?”
“Turn around,” Jack muttered, making a lazy spinning motion in the air with his finger.
Ryan rotated. “Would you like me to remove anything else for your inspection?” he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice as he came to face Jack again.
“No scratches.”
“I told you there wouldn’t be.”
Jack shook his head. “Actually, you didn’t. You were pretty quiet on the subject.”
“I’m quiet on a lot of subjects.”
“There you go again with that cryptic shit. You always were a silent sonofabitch,” Jack said, finally cracking a smile.
Jack had a sexy little twist in his smile. One side of his lips curved up, the other corner turned down like he was perpetually up to mischief. It had always tempted Ryan into guessing what wicked thoughts traipsed through his mind and if they included illicit sex with reclusive men.
“I talk when it’s important,” Ryan answered on a shrug.
“Is there anything about the last twenty-four hours you might deem as important?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ryan moved closer. “The next twenty-four might be the kicker, though.”
Jack, nearly eye level with him, tipped his chin up a fraction of an inch, meeting his gaze steadily. “Anything
I
might find important?”
“I’m hoping, but it’s up to you.”
“What’s up to me?” Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Did he risk it? Would Jack push him away and storm out the door, kicking up a new trail of dust as he roared down the driveway, or would he be interested? After thirty-four years, he thought he knew Jack pretty well. Ryan didn’t think he’d make a stink, but this would definitely push their awkward friendship over a line.
“It’s up to you to kiss me,” Ryan replied calmly.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Do
what
now?”
Damn, he was making a stink. “I was thinking if we were going to take that pup-tent tour Clancy mentioned, we might need to get a little closer.” God, he hoped he said that with a straight face. He didn’t think he’d hold up well if Jack started laughing.
“And kissing you accomplishes that?” Jack questioned. “Well, yeah, I guess it does,” he said, answering his own question. “In the scheme of eliminating all available space between people, that’s pretty damn close. There’re other ways of being close. Like emotionally close, which could be just as important in getting along with someone. But I think you’re coming on to me. You’re coming on to me, right? Sure seems like you’re coming on to me. You know I’m on the clock working a case? Getting close, the way you mean it, is a little unconventional.”
“You’re babbling.” Ryan grinned. “That’s cute.”
Jack started blushing again. It darkened his throat and reddened his ears. “I just need information. Did you or didn’t you see the wolf I’m trying to track. The way I figure it, you’ve found him and he’s fascinating from a naturist’s point of view so you want to do a photo study of him. I’m all for that. You can study him until you’re blue in the face, but I’m going to have to relocate him since he’s freaking out the locals.”
“Jack.”
“Relocating him will give him a chance to live the rest of his happy canine life without unnecessarily coming into contact with humans. You’d think with your interest in preserving nature and the natural order that you’d be on board with this. Why are you standing in the way of this animal’s life? If a hunter comes across him, or some scared local with a gun, he’ll be killed. Then where would your wildlife study be?”
“Jack.”
“It’s selfish. That’s all I’m saying. And you could have helped prevent the death of a very rare and unusually large Timber wolf—assuming that’s what it is and that the thing actually exists.”
“Are you done?”
Jack looked up at Ryan, confusion lifting a hint of a wrinkle between his eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”
“If I’m going to take all my clothes off for your scratch inspection, I at least want a kiss first.”
“Oh,” Jack said, air exploding from his lungs. Did he look a little disappointed? “If you say you aren’t scratched, I believe you. Let me tag along for your trek to the lake shore. I want to look around a little.”
Ryan closed the gap between them. “I’m trying to be subtle. I think I’m being a little too subtle, so how about I spell it out for you.”
Their chests were touching. Jack’s breath smelled like cinnamon buns and coffee.
“Yeah, okay,” Jack agreed.
“I like you. I think you like me. I’m pretending this is all about showing you evidence that my body is clear of markings, but what it really is, is an excuse to get naked with you so I can explore yours. If you’re okay with that, say
uh-huh
.”
Jack’s hands came up, cupping Ryan’s head. Ryan’s stomach did somersaults as Jack leaned in, sipping kisses from his lips in soft questing captures.
“Uh-huh,” Jack murmured, his tongue slipping out to flick the fullest part of Ryan’s upper lip.
“Thank God,” Ryan growled.
He wedged his hands between their bodies, hurriedly unbuttoning Jack’s khaki DNR shirt. A white undershirt thwarted Ryan only momentarily before he had it hauled up Jack’s body and off.
“Thought you liked pretty boys,” Jack said.
“You’re pretty,” Ryan argued.
Jack’s tongue touched the tip of Ryan’s nearly driving him wild. This was definitely Ryan’s preferred way of tasting cinnamon buns, he decided. And if this is how Jack routinely questioned witnesses, Ryan was going to confess to every DNR crime in the books. Hell, he’d make up some new ones too.
“Bite your tongue,” Jack scoffed.
“Better idea. You bite it for me.”
Bare chest against bare chest, Ryan had to stop and just feel the way their warm skin touched, one giving when the other breathed in an erratic dance of bodies sharing limited space. Around the sensation of crisp hairs and pliable flesh, Ryan’s metal buckle rasped Jack’s. Jack seemed to linger on the metallic sound, his attention stolen from their kiss, to simply breathe against one another.
“Is this for real?” Jack wondered aloud.
Ryan spread his fingers as he rubbed his hands up Jack’s sides, then around his upper back and down. Back dipped and began to rise at the hip over low slung pants. The finely knitted texture of skin became rough cotton and still he pressed his hands on Jack’s body until he had handfuls of firm, round ass.
“Feels real to me,” Ryan decided.
Jack moaned.
Ryan took that opportunity to steal another kiss, tasting the moan on his tongue like Jack’s mouth was a ripe fruit and the sounds, its nectar. Jack loosened Ryan’s belt and pants, then his own. Lips still pressed together, tasting, coaxing, memorising each other, they awkwardly stepped out of their pants.
Ryan stumbled.
Jack righted him, laughing. “You’re supposed to be good on your feet.”
“I’m better on your back.”
Jack swore softly, looking into Ryan’s eyes with enough heat to make him shiver with need.
“The condoms are in my room.” Ryan stepped away, walking backwards that direction. “You coming?”
Jack quirked a smile at the double meaning.
Ryan slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, easing them back and forth playfully. “There’s another half yard of cotton you need to look under in your scratch inspection, Officer Allen.”
“Or you could drop them right there.”
Ryan lifted a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Uh huh.”
Ryan reached inside his shorts and stroked his open hand over the turgid length inside. Jack’s eyes were riveted to that caress.
“I think about this being your hand sometimes,” Ryan confessed. “Almost always makes me come too soon.”
Jack’s dry laugh wasn’t one of humour, but pleased surprise. “When you touch yourself, thinking of me, what am I doing?”
Ryan shuddered, caught his bottom lip with his teeth. Jack was too far away. Five or more feet separated them. He took another step backwards, happy to see Jack took one forward. The distance was the same, but intent changed everything. They were headed for his bedroom.
He’d finally know what it was like to have Jack touch him.
“You’re looking at me with hot, dry eyes. The flecks of gold seem brighter against the green than usual and you’re breathing hard, like you’ve been running or you’re going to come with me because I turn you on, too.”
“You
do
turn me on,” Jack said, taking another step.
Ryan smiled, caressing his shaft. Moisture beaded at the tip and wet his palm. It should have been Jack’s palm. “I think of you holding my cock and going down on it until it’s slippery.”
“And then?” Jack came closer.
Ryan stepped back, finally breaching his bedroom. “Then you straddle me and ride. Your face twists when you come and I imagine you making a small noise, unable to hold back.”
Jack’s grin turned wicked. “I don’t make small noises.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” Jack shook his head for added emphasis. “I’m a quiet guy who can’t believe the man he’s wanted since our fifth college reunion, wants him back.”
Ryan stopped moving away. “That’s gotta be the sexiest admission I’ve ever heard.” He pulled off his shorts unselfconsciously. “C’mere.”
Jack still looked a little nervous, and it occurred to Ryan that the simple questions earlier had been asked out of disbelief and shyness. The truth emboldened Ryan, as did the look Jack was giving him right that second.
He walked tentatively towards Ryan. “Are you sure you want this?”
“I’m standing stark naked in my bedroom, stroking my cock, and asking you to take over. Does it look like I’m confused on this issue?” Ryan asked.
“Guess not.”
“Am I out of line, or are you wanting the same thing I want?”
Jack shook his head, then he nodded.
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh at his confusion. “Jack, do you want me?” “God, yes.”
“Then get your ass over here and stake your claim on my pole, because you’re the only one I want climbing it.”
“Wait.”
Ryan thought his eyes must be bugging. “Seriously?” He looked down at his dick. It seemed straight enough to him.
Jack closed his eyes and put a hand on his hip. Ryan had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing and compounding the problem, but Jack had stood in that position more than a few times fully dressed. With nothing but socks and underwear, it was pretty damn funny. Sexy, hot, delicious, endearing, and fiendishly hilarious.
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because we want to?” Was it a trick question, Ryan wondered?
“No, Ryan, I’m not into casual sex. I want to,” he opened his eyes, worry lines crinkled them at the outside corners. “I mean, God, look at you. You’re beautiful, and,” he motioned towards Ryan’s cock, “impressive.”
“You’re speaking English. I’m pretty sure you are because I understand the words coming out of your mouth, but it’s pretty much not making sense here.”
Jack came to him. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“That makes two of us,” Ryan said, feeling the niggling pain of rejection start.
“Ryan—Jesus,” Jack’s gaze beseeched his. “This is a small town. There aren’t many of us around out here and we could have a pretty amazing thing if we do this right.”