He drew Dustin against him, pulled them both to the other side. When the backs of his calves bumped the step, he sat and pulled Dustin down to his lap. He didn’t rush. Every moment in the tub soothed Dustin’s aching muscles. And, frankly, it soothed the broken heart Tony carried since he and Dustin had parted company after the television show.
He’d wanted to stay, but once eliminated, contestants were sent home, wrapped in legal confidentiality clauses. The reality show image of someone packing a suitcase and leaving wasn’t far from the truth. He’d gone to the house the contestants shared, packed his belongings and, after a short round of good-byes, left. Dustin had been talking with their coach and trainer about an issue, and the negative reaction Tony’s relationship with him had garnered among his fellow competitors had startled him enough that he’d waited only about fifteen minutes or so to say good-bye to him before leaving. When Dustin hadn’t returned, Tony had to go. Rules were rules, and he wasn’t about to bend them.
These days, he might have waited. Some of the guys had lingered longer to say good-bye to friends or the horses. The confidentiality clauses had kept him from contacting Dustin until the show aired. By then, he was riding in a polo tournament down in South America and his ability to communicate had become sporadic. He had no good answer for why he hadn’t contacted him later. Maybe tonight he could find a way to make up for that.
“Gonna turn into a prune in here,” Dustin said, though he, too, made no move to leave. Instead, he thrust into Tony’s stroking hand.
Tony tightened his fingers just enough to make the pressure exquisite. “I’d still do you even if you were a prune.” He kissed Dustin’s forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture for the moment. His one-night stand was quickly getting serious, as he’d guessed it would the moment he’d walked into the hotel room and seen the cowboy.
Dustin stiffened and not the good-moment-right-before-he-came kind of tenseness, either. Damn it! He’d pushed too hard and he was going to push the other man right away. Then, he relaxed, and Tony leisurely brought him to release. Holding the man in his arms, feeling him shudder and come to completion created a tender moment. One he’d cherish no matter how the night ended.
The jets stilled again.
“Okay, I have to get out of here.” Dustin sat on the edge for a moment, his feet dangling in the water. Then, he grabbed a towel and gingerly swung his legs over to stand.
“Knee bothering you?” Tony opened the drain then stepped from the Jacuzzi.
“Yeah. I’d say I’m getting too old for this shit, but I love it.” He let his towel drop to the floor and padded naked, a hitch in his step, to the bedroom. Tony followed. Dustin pulled the covers back and sat on the sheets, running his hands over them. “Man, normally I sleep in my truck or, if I’m too banged up, a Super 8 or something with a bed. This is nice.” He reclined.
Tony handed him a bolster. “For your knee.” He slid it into position, and saw the cowboy smile as he rested against it.
“You stay at places this nice all the time? Can’t picture you in something for under $100 a night. You probably enjoy all these fruity pillows.” He grabbed the remote to finger the buttons, but didn’t turn on the television.
“Usually. Though it’s either the team or one of my modeling jobs putting me up, too. Don’t worry. I’ve stayed at my share of budget motels.” Maybe this would be the conversation they needed to have. Tony held his breath for a moment, then released it. He had to pierce the image Dustin had of him as a fancy, rich boy.
Tony’s cock rose half-erect. Dustin must have noticed, but didn’t do anything, and frankly, after the soak and the sex, Tony doubted he could go another round. At least not for a while. The other man must have felt the same way because he turned on the television, heading for a country station that usually showed rodeos on rerun.
“I’m a little surprised at that,” Dustin drawled. He didn’t say more, and Tony appreciated his restraint. They’d fought enough about his wealthy upbringing and life, and he was thankful that they weren’t going to fight again. Dustin had said a lot worse when they’d been together. He muttered something at the television about the cowboy on screen never being able to stick to a bronc when it counted.
Tony shifted, getting more comfortable. “So how does one stick to a bronc?” Chicken! He needed to finish the conversation, and yet, couldn’t quite bring himself to close the deal. Maybe he could get him talking about rodeo—and he truly wanted to hear his insights—then they could talk about other things.
“You become interested in rodeo?” Dustin turned the volume down a couple of clicks. “Well, it’s all about setting your feet and getting in rhythm with the horse.” He didn’t wait for an answer to his first question, simply started talking about how getting in rhythm with the horse helped to ride over the jumps and kicks, and as long as the feet were set with each jump the judges would score highly. Pulling up on the rein gave him leverage, though a real cowboy rode with his seat and legs, never his hands.
Though it was completely different from the polo Tony played, the mechanics sounded very similar. Riding in an English saddle required the same use of seat and legs, obviously not as vigorously. Balance held the key to riding well, especially in his fast-moving sport. They talked about riding, sports, always staying away from the jousting show—Tony figured neither one of them would be returning when they did the casting call again—for close to an hour. The rodeo on television ended and another began: bull riding.
“Those guys are crazy,” Dustin commented. “Sure, a horse could step on you or kick you. I’ve had some pretty hard falls.” He didn’t have to point to his bruises to prove his point. “But bulls will hook you as soon as look at you. They’re mean sons of bitches.”
Tony couldn’t disagree. Bucking horses calmed down, and well-trained polo ponies sometimes got a little fresh and bucked and snorted a bit before a match. A few of his horses had been too fresh; to him a few too many.
“I’m going to Amarillo in the morning. I can’t stop riding circuit,” Dustin said abruptly. He flipped off the television and rolled over to his side. The sheet slipped down to his hips, revealing the arrow of hair leading down to his cock. For a moment Tony wanted to lose himself in the pleasure the trail promised. He couldn’t. Not right then, because something big was happening to both of them. Just like Dustin on those bucking horses, he had to ride it through to the end, no matter what happened.
“I know,” Tony answered. “I’d never ask you to give it up, either. I’ve got some vacation time and could go to Amarillo. Maybe Ft. Worth and Houston. By the time you crossed the Texas state line, I’d have to get back to work. I’m due for a modeling contract in a few weeks, and then there are some polo matches in Florida. My schedule hasn’t changed much with the team. I’ve slowed down on the modeling, so when I’m not playing polo there’s more flexibility.”
Dustin nodded, and surprise, as expected, flashed in his expression. When they’d been together before, Tony’d been adamant about having an overflowing modeling schedule. Getting the endorsements and photo spreads while he could had become like air to him. It hadn’t taken him long after getting back to that schedule to figure out that it wasn’t for him. He had no need to pad his bank account. He didn’t want to model anymore if it bored him to tears, or worse, frustrated him with the shallowness of the industry.
“We have tonight.” Dustin glanced at the bedside clock radio. “Okay, we have early this morning.” He grinned. “Want to make the most of it?”
“Yeah,” Tony admitted. “I do.” He flipped back the sheet to reveal Dustin’s naked body. To hell with all the things that needed to be said; the stuff that should be worked out. If his schedule panned out, and they could spend some time together before he had to go to work, then it would all be okay. The cowboy’s erect cock provided all the answer he needed.
Tony closed his fingers around the shaft. He stroked gently and gestured for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. Dustin tossed it at h
im, and Tony paused long enough to pour some into his palm, then resumed touching the other man’s shaft. He moved slowly, letting his digits do the talking for him. Only the whir of the climate control and Dustin’s deep breathing filled the room. The bedside lamp cast a small pool of light, the cozy, intimate moment seemed out of place for this one-night stand, and Tony pushed the thought from his mind.
He shifted closer and tucking an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. He held him against his chest, not quite cradling him. The darker bruise splotches still shone in the dim lightning, and Tony wished he could kiss each blemish from his skin. It was Dustin’s life. Sometimes after an especially rough polo match, his legs were bruised from accidental mallet hits. The games were still friendly.
Tony tightened his grip and pumped harder and faster with the need to bring Dustin over the edge. They had little time left. Sometime they needed to sleep and the noon checkout would come all too early.
Want, need, and something that might be longing were etched into the cowboy’s features. Oh yeah. He wants it, too. Leaning forward, he kissed Dustin, adding lips and tongue to the symphony of desire his fingers were playing.
Dustin arched and Tony plunged his tongue into his mouth. Hungrily, he kissed him, wishing like hell that they were in different places in their careers. He’d thought they might be, and the fact that they weren’t stung like the Armani contract he’d lost last fall. Perhaps they wouldn’t ever be in the right places for anything beyond this moment.
No! His entire being rebelled against the thought. There had to be a way to make it work and it was up to him to figure out what that was.
Dustin pushed against his chest, sending him flat on his back. “Stop thinking,” he whispered. He slid down to Tony’s hips and quickly sheathed him.
“How’d you know?” Tony tried to speak more, but he was there, circling his shaft, already driving him toward the pinnacle of pleasure.
“Because your fingers wander.” Dustin grinned. “What you’re thinking isn’t what tonight is for.” Lowering his head, he took the latex-covered cock deep.
Tony groaned. With each suck and swirl of the man’s tongue, thoughts fled. He lifted his hips, trying not to fuck Dustin’s mouth too hard. Drawing his breath between his teeth, Tony focused on the hot, wet sensation. Memories of being buried deep, working the cowboy’s ass until they both came, filled his mind. He thrust harder.
Dustin fondled Tony’s balls. The same gentle touch that it took to use the reins to steer a horse could also send him to nirvana faster than anything else. A finger flicked the sensitive place behind his balls, and Tony fought not to come.
“Dustin, please,” he growled.
He laughed, the vibrations racing along the Tony’s length. Dustin’s fingers increased their tempo, gliding back toward his anus. The pleasure became too much and Tony shot hard into the condom, his body screaming for release. A single digit breached him, then a second, fucking him through the orgasm. Dustin tickled his prostate. Lightning sparks of arousal flared through him and his cock began to harden again.
Dustin allowed his dick to slip from between his lips and with not-so-gentle pressure on his hip, rolled Tony over. He needed that, to be on the receiving end of Dustin’s loving, to lie there and be fucked, and not worry about anything beyond the moment. Shifting position long enough to remove the spent condom, Tony somehow managed to hit the trashcan sitting beside the bed. He slid his hand between his stomach and the bed again, working lower so he could cup his cock.
He glanced over his shoulder at Dustin and lifted his ass. “You want it.”
After rolling a condom on, Dustin knelt behind him. “Always.”. It was as close to an admission as the man would give, and he seated his shaft at Tony’s entrance, the pleasure stopping any further words.
Emotion inside of Tony shifted at the single word. It mirrored his own feelings, the fact that he hadn’t been able to get the other man out of his mind since he’d left. He’d started planning his schedule around rodeos and relaxed with the belief that Dustin shared his feelings.
He accepted the presence, the pressure as Dustin pushed into him. He’d been well prepared, slick enough that the cowboy slid home without any resistance. Dustin gripped his hips, panting.
Sweat beaded along Tony’s spine. He struggled to hold back, his body already demanding the hard fuck Dustin could give. One more for the road, they used to say, before going to bed or heading out to the arenas the next morning. This time, one more for the road had a whole new meaning.
“Let me,” Dustin said, taking Tony’s cock into his hand.
It could as easily be a promise as a good-bye, and when the other man pulled back, Tony couldn’t say which worried him more. Then Dustin pressed forward once more, and Tony lost himself in the give and take of their bodies, to the thick shaft buried deep inside him. They made love slowly, each thrust and retreat prolonged for maximum benefit.
Dustin’s breath warmed the back of his neck. Sweat glistened on Tony’s. Dustin’s pace quickened, his breathing more ragged, and with a low groan, he came. His orgasm triggered Tony’s, a long, slow release that left him panting and limp.
He wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but then Dustin sat propped up against the pillows again and Tony had rolled to his side. His eyelids drooped. The one-night stand was coming to a close.
Dustin glanced at the clock. “I have to hit the road early in the morning.” He paused. “I had a good time. I’m glad you were here tonight.”
Tony cherished the words; they were probably all he’d get. “Me, too.” He burrowed beneath the covers. Plumping the pillows beneath his head, he lay down.
A few beeps announced Dustin setting the alarm. Tony refused to ask for how early. Dustin got out of bed, went to the bathroom, then turned off the lights. A seemingly normal night, except it wasn’t. The bed creaked as the cowboy slipped beneath the covers. Would he say something else? He didn’t and a few moments later his soft snores filled the room.
Tony fought a sigh and closed his eyes. The moment was so reminiscent of their past, he couldn’t quite keep from listening for other contestants from neighboring rooms. The resort had thick walls; he heard nothing. He needed to say something, to work things out, except that’s not what a one-night stand was supposed to be.
If things could work out, they would. They had exchanged schedules for the next few weeks. No doubt it wouldn’t be difficult to find the rodeos, to find a way to hook up with Dustin again. Right then, he’d better sleep. Later, he could play with the notion that there ought to be a way to claim the cowboy for his own.
Chapter Three
Amarillo By Morning
Tony woke with a start. Rolling over, he registered two things. One, it was nearly time to check out of the room, and two, Dustin was gone. He groaned and rubbed sleep out of his eyes. Sitting up, he let the sheet fall, then tossed the covers back. He went to the bathroom, took a quick shower and cleaned up, before grabbing a fresh outfit out of his overnight bag. The bed, at least, appeared thoroughly used, if the rest of the room was a bit sterile. Tony checked everything, making sure neither of them left anything.
A small notepad with the resort’s logo caught his attention. His heart pounded as he picked it up and read Dustin’s scrawl.
Super 8 Central. Rodeo starts at 7pm. Room is under my name.
Tony grinned and tucked the note into his pocket. His prayers had been answered. They’d had their one-night stand. The next evening, they’d have another one. Maybe, eventually, they could string enough of them together to actually make a life. Grabbing his luggage, he headed to check out. He might not make Amarillo by morning, but he’d be there that night and in his cowboy’s bed.
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
A long time ago in a galaxy far away…oh wait, that’s a different saga. W.M. Kirkland began writing over twenty years ago, and all the stories, no matter the genre, featured handsome princes. Today, W.M. combines a love of history and fantastical settin
gs with strong men and bonds which cannot be broken. Although these men keep W.M. at the computer most of the day, there’s still time for enjoying the outdoors, great movies, and a good time.
You can visit W.M. at:
www.wmkirkland.com
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