Saving Stakes

by Saving Stakes (lit)

  * * * *

  Cole Duvall stopped outside the closed door of his bedroom, turning a keen ear to listen for any sounds coming from inside. He heard nary a one. Adrenaline pumped through his veins even as his mind computed it wasn't right. He'd seen the way Mare-wolf carried on below the large oak tree. The dog's ruckus drew his attention up just in time to spot the booted foot disappearing through his bedroom window.

  Someone had broken into his room. That someone remained inside. Quietly waiting in the shadows to what, jump him? He let an amused smile quirk his lips even as he pulled his handgun from the holster at his side. If that were the case, the bastard was in for a helluva surprise. Cole hadn't taken off his gun belt after his late night ride on his horse. He'd just walked inside and gotten his shirt unbuttoned when Mare-wolf kicked up her racket out front.

  His grip secure on the handle of his revolver, he turned the knob on the bedroom door and eased it open. Darkness bathed the room, broken only by the silvery sparkle of the moon outside. A silhouetted figure stood at the window.

  Cole didn't waste a second. Four long strides brought him standing behind the figure, the gun in his hand cocked and pointed at the intruder's temple. The fact that the figure stayed put though he must've heard Cole enter didn't register in Cole's rapidly firing brain. The fact that the figure seemed to slump back against Cole as if in relief rather than stiffen in fear at the gun pointed to his head didn't snap as odd, either. But the feel of that hard body against Cole's bare chest, the warmth of the rigid muscles and the musky scent of cologne hit him like a freight train.

  Cole closed his eyes and lowered the gun. His heart pounded so loudly he heard it in his ears. Rusty Eubanks shifted his weight, the movement grinding his back to Cole's front, and Cole involuntarily grabbed the man's hip to hold him still.

  "I could've shot you." The words rumbled from Cole's constricting throat, a low growl of pure desperation he rarely let escape. The combination from the crash of adrenaline and the apex of desire had him bowing his head to rest on the back of the taller man's shoulder. "Christ on a crutch, Rusty, what the fuck are you doing sneaking into my bedroom?"

  Rusty's shoulders rose and fell in a heavy breath, and Cole heard the man gulp before he answered. "I needed to see you."

  You left me.

  The accusation sprang to the tip of Cole's tongue so fast he nearly spit it out before he caught himself. He never heard a more unfair accusation. Rusty only left because he'd pushed the man away. Rather than take him for a night or gamble the man's heart on a game of chance for more, Cole sent him packing.

  It was his choice, his cowardice, but that didn't stop the burn, didn't ease the ache. He never felt a more wicked pain, intensified now by the feel of Rusty against him, the firmness of the man's body in his hand. Cole stepped back before he spontaneously combusted. He needed the distance to concentrate, to keep himself from giving into the desperate desire to be with this man.

  "You ever heard of a front door?" Cole flipped the safety mechanism on his gun and shoved it back in the holster. He moved to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Fluorescent lighting flooded the room. His fingers were still curled around the switch when Rusty turned to face him. Cole nearly turned the lamp off again.

  He made a point to avoid seeing Rusty since he left the Double D. That hadn't prevented the man from invading Cole's dreams. He couldn't count the times he'd awakened with his throbbing cock in his hand, viciously stroking himself to ejaculation even as he fought to push his memories of Rusty to the back of his mind. Time had done little to change the other man. It had done even less to calm Cole's intense craving to have him.

  "I didn't want to wake Denise." Rusty's gaze slid over Cole in a leisurely fall that made Cole feel drunk and tingly all over.

  Cole felt paralyzed beneath Rusty's stare, unable to move, barely able to breathe. He'd felt the same way when Rusty came clean about all he felt and wanted just before he'd quit the ranch.

  I'm crazy about you, Cole. I want to be with you, to touch you, to be inside you. I can't stand working on this ranch day after day, being this close to you and not having you.

  Then go.

  Cole had wanted to say more, to explain he wasn't the man Rusty thought him to be. He wasn't the staying kind. Instead, he said nothing. He'd watched the pain move though Rusty's eyes, followed quickly by defeat. Rusty gave up then, turned and walked away, and Cole had let him leave, his own pain and grief rendering his limbs and brain momentarily useless.

  Cole felt it when Rusty's attention focused on his crotch. His dick pulsed in response, hardening to the point of pain. His agony only intensified as Rusty's gaze slid up, gliding like a physical caress over his exposed stomach, his abdomen, his chest. Cole's flesh heated, his breath quickening, his heart damned near pounding out of his chest.

  Cole stopped himself from reaching for the sides of his shirt to pull it closed, not wanting Rusty to know the way his looks still affected him. He'd managed to hide the depth of his attraction to Rusty for too long to screw up now. Instead, he stood stone still but for the shallow breaths he finally managed and waited for Rusty's gaze to reach his face. The heat burning his skin raged in Rusty's eyes.

  Rusty blinked, gulped and then asked in a surprising coolness, "She still lives with you, doesn't she?"

  "Yeah, it's her house, too." Cole sniffed the air. "You can't tell? Smells like a damned strawberry orchard in here. Women can't ever use a soap that gets you clean. They've gotta have all that fruit and herb shit, too."

  The corners of Rusty's alluring lips kicked into a grin so sexually ripe Cole felt the effects close around the head of his cock. "I thought you'd decided to try the feminine side of life for a while."

  "As if." Cole scoffed. "Shower in her room is being replaced. She's using mine for the time being. Should've taken off from the ranch work to do the job myself. Would've been faster."

  "I'm surprised you didn't." Rusty didn't move from his stance to the right of the window. Cole didn't want him to. The choices of where he could go in the room seemed limited. A chair sat in one corner laden with the smelly shirt and grimy jeans Cole wore yesterday. He didn't blame the man for not sitting there. A tall chest of drawers and the bed took up much of the remaining space in the room. He supposed Rusty could lean against the chest, but he definitely didn't want Rusty sitting on the bed.

  No, he wanted Rusty on all fours on the bed, naked and poised to take Cole's cock deep inside his…

  "You said you needed to see me," Cole blurted as he straightened. He indicated his body with a gesture of his hand. Bad idea, he realized too late. The move drew Rusty's attention down for another of those slow slides that had Cole taking a deep breath even as embers of lust rained inside him clean to his toes. "Well, you're seeing me. What do you need, Rusty? It's late and I'm tired."

  He was being a bastard and he knew it, but damnit he needed to get this man out of his bedroom. He clinched his teeth over the apology that wanted to follow. Rusty possessed a body made for lovin' and a personality designed for falling. Cole knew of no other way to resist a man like him then by being a sonuvabitch. Rusty Eubanks was the staying kind, and Cole couldn't stick around.

  Rusty nodded and got straight to the point. "It's about Jay."

  Cole blinked, the only visible reaction he let himself make, but everything inside him exploded in a multitude of emotions at the name.

  "Guy's got a poker game set for tomorrow night," Rusty went on when Cole said nothing.

  Cole forced himself to shrug as he took off his gun belt. He turned his back on Rusty and walked to the hook by the bedroom door. "It's been a few months since I've heard of one. Guess it's about time."

  Poker games at Masters High were legendary in the county. Guy Masters catered to the highest betters around usually three or four times a year. Before Cole's old man died, he'd been one of those highest betters. After his death, the people around expected Cole to take his place, seeing as the old man taught Cole everythi
ng he knew about the game. Cole got so good he could even beat his old man, earning him the title of the best poker player in these parts and the coveted invitation to Masters High on poker night. Cole never went. He knew how the games went down, especially since his old man died, knew the outcome, and wanted no part of it.

  "What's that got to do with Jay?"

  Jay was Guy Masters' youngest son. He'd been born out of wedlock to a barroom whore, by all accounts, who Guy sent away with a heavy purse and closed lips. She died several years back. At least that's the story Cole knew. Left alone, Jay eventually found his way to Masters High, presumably to claim a portion of what belonged to him.

  "You weren't invited this time?"

  Cole's brows knitted as the oddity of that struck. He hadn't been invited. Not that he would've gone. His principles to stay out of the twisted poker game rivaled his need to stay away from Jay Masters these days, giving him all the more reason to steer clear. Funny what a half a bottle of Jack and a night on the dance floor could do to a man. Cole suspected Jay's relation to the Masters clan the night he met the man at the local bar. The eyes gave it away. Jay's, however, gleamed of a kindness and compassion Cole had never witnessed in any other Masters' eyes before. He'd felt himself drowning in that river of blue desire and been too intoxicated to stop himself from going under. The Duvall curse flittered through his thoughts, serving as the life raft he'd needed to pull himself to shore.

  "No," Cole answered curtly.

  "Word is Brody Longhorn'll be there."

  Cole scowled and shot Rusty a look. "Brody Longhorn is always there." Which stood as reason number three for Cole's continued absence. He'd just as soon stay as far away from the sick bi-sexual fuck as possible. "He never misses a chance to stomp a mud hole in the asses of every pocket bulging gambler around."

  "He plans to take Jay in exchange for his winnings this time."

  The news hit Cole like a punch in the gut. He heard himself make an "ooof" sound as if he'd been physically hit, even felt the burn through his midsection. He turned slowly, his breaths coming heavy as the weight of Rusty's words set in.

  "Jay won't go for that."

  "Jay doesn't have much choice."

  "He's not like his brothers."

  Rusty shook his head, his brown eyes revealing a bone deep fear Cole immediately felt reverberating in his soul.

  "No, he's not."

  "They'll break him." Cole couldn't stop his voice from rising any more than he could swallow the panic welling for the younger man. "Brody and that bitch he's married to, they'll shatter Jay to bits."

  Rusty nodded this time, his gaze never wavering from Cole's. "Yeah, they will."

  "Fuck!" Cole swore vehemently, his hands balling into tight fists of their own accord. Jay's soft face with his strong square chin and straight nose, his gleaming white teeth and sensually ripe smile flashed through his mind. "I'll fucking kill 'em."

  "I thought so." Rusty's whispered words somehow broke through Cole's fury.

  "Thought so what?" Cole took an involuntary step toward the other man.

  "You care about Jay. You're in love with him." Cole shook his head, but before he could deny any of it, Rusty went on. "What I haven't been able to figure is why you haven't gone near him since that night at the bar. Have you been staying away from Jay because of me?"

  "I've stayed away from Jay because of me." Cole turned the statement around, poking a finger at his own chest. But the words only revealed half the truth. He bowed his head and said the rest. "And you."

  Rusty walked to Cole, slow and even steps that closed the distance between them. Cole couldn't be that close to him, especially not now when they talked about the only other man who could make him lose it. Cole turned his back again.

  "We aren't together," Rusty said softly.

  "You should be. You'd be good for him."

  "Jay and I are just friends. I haven't touched him. God knows I've wanted to. He's amazing, Cole. He’s gorgeous, sexy, passionate, tough. I've never met another man like him. Not even you."

  Cole flinched at the light touch of Rusty's hand on his shoulder blade. "Why?"

  "Because I knew you wanted him, and I want you to be happy. I wasn't the man for you, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to find the one who is."

  "There isn't a man for me." Cole muttered.

  "Bullshit! How can you say that? I've felt the arousal coming off Jay in waves when he talks about how badly he wants you. I've heard how much he cares for you in his tone. I feel the same coming from you now, hear the same in your voice."

  Cole closed his eyes as Rusty closed the last remaining space between their bodies, his arm cording around Cole's waist.

  He rested his chin on Cole's shoulder, his breath a breeze of fire against the side of Cole's neck.

  "That's why I've stayed away from Jay. You don't want me, but I know you want him."

  He'd done it, Cole realized with no sense of satisfaction. He'd made Rusty believe he didn't want him.

  "I figured if I touched him you wouldn't go after him."

  "I wouldn't have gone after him anyway." It wasn't a lie. He never would've stepped foot in Jay's path again. Damned if staying away hadn't proven to be the second hardest thing Cole ever did. Not going after Rusty immediately after he'd told the man to go proved the first hardest thing.

  What if he were wrong? What if the Duvall history was wrong? What if the Duvall curse, as the family had come to think of it, turned out to be pure horseshit?

  "But you'll help him tomorrow night?" The hope in Rusty's voice wound around Cole's heart.

  Cole nodded, stopping abruptly when the movement had Rusty's lips grazing lightly against his neck.

  "Thank you." Rusty let out a breath of relief, his arms around Cole's waist tightening in a fierce hug. "You're the only one who can beat Longhorn."

  Christ, what if he didn't? He couldn't fathom the thought of the Longhorns getting their extreme sexual sadists’ hands on Jay. They didn't stop at a little master-submissive play. They went all out with sexual strangulation and torture to the point of beatings that left their partners sporting bruises and even shallow gashes for weeks.

  Cole needed to think, and he couldn't do it pressed so closely against Rusty's body. He stepped forward out of the man's embrace and turned.

  "Why Jay this time? Why not Bo or Jesse? Won't they be pissed if they aren't chosen?" The idea of any man getting off on that shit made Cole sick to his stomach. He always thought of Jay's brothers as less than human because they enjoyed it. Evil swam in the depths of their eyes, eyes as spectacularly blue as Jay's, but with a darkness that left them looking hollow and ugly.

  "I'm sure they will be." Rusty shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "It's probably another reason Guy is allowing it to happen. One or both of them has likely done something to piss him off."

  "So he's using the opportunity to keep them away from the Longhorns as punishment." Cole barked a humorless laugh. "That's one fucked up family."

  "And yet everyone for counties around won't hear an ill word spoken of the Masters' clan. To hear talk, Guy is the greatest cowboy since John Wayne. Even took in a son he never knew he had and willed him a third of his life's work."

  "John Wayne was a helluva an actor, just like Masters. And all that you just said is hogwash. He knew about Jay. The bastard paid Jay's mother off, forced her to leave the state."

  "I know that. You know it, and probably a handful of others know it. But Guy pays his men well, treats 'em fair, and works 'em hard. That's what matters most to folks. What he has or hasn't done with his own boys ain't seen as no one's business but his own."

  "And mine now," Cole vowed.

  "Yeah, I'd hoped you'd say that. Guy's got a noose around Jay's neck, Cole, and he's finding any way he can to tighten the rope."

  "I know about the contract Jay signed, the bet he lost to Guy." He'd found out shortly after meeting Jay. Tangled in the shit that went on at Masters Hi
gh remained the last place he wanted to be and the one place he'd find himself tomorrow night.

  "He lost more than a bet. He lost a good decade of his life. Guy planned that from the start. Jay might as well have signed that contract in blood, because that's what Guy's been taking for months, one little dribble at a time."

  "He fooled Jay just like he's fooled most everyone in these parts."

  Rusty nodded. "But if Jay runs, he'll lose more than his share of the Masters' spread. I think they'll go after him, Cole. Bo and Jesse, they're looking for an excuse to pound on Jay. I'm not saying Jay wouldn't get in a few good swings. He's tough, but against those two, they're pure evil. They'll kill Jay if given the chance."

  "They'll have to get through me first." Cole knew how absurd he sounded, but the determination pumping through his veins made every word feel logical.

  "You know how these games are played, right? How the stakes are divvied up in the end?"

  "Longhorn wins, turns the money over to Masters in exchange for a night with Bo or Jesse. It's male prostitution. Guy Masters is nothing more than a fucking pimp for his sons."

  "They agree to it. Hell, Cole, they love it. And who would argue with Masters? The sheriff sure won't. He'll be right there at that damned poker table with you tomorrow night."

  "And he'll watch Longhorn lose. Tomorrow night, Jay'll be hanging his hat inside my door, not theirs." Cole turned away at the flash of hurt that moved through Rusty's eyes. Rusty had come to him for help. He expected Cole to charge in on his white horse like some gay fairytale knight and save Jay from certain humiliation and pain. Where did he expect Cole to bring Jay but back here after the game?

  Everything inside Cole screamed that would be a mistake. For the first time in too many years to count, he felt himself tuning out those voices, centering his attention on the sexy slide of Rusty's husky tone instead.