Strung Up

by Lorelei James

  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.

  In the first arena, he’d grabbed me by the shirt and kissed the sense out of me.

  I’d kissed him back because I sure as hell wasn’t shooting for sainthood.

  In the second arena, he’d stood behind me and started rubbing his groin into my ass, suggesting a hand job to relax me.

  My cock had pouted when I resisted the temptation.

  In the third arena, Cres warned me if I didn’t end the tour in the next seconds he was going home.

  It might’ve been the only time in my life I gave in to an ultimatum with zero resentment.

  He asked, “How far is the campground from here?”

  “A ten-minute walk.” Or a four-minute run.

  Then again, running with a hard-on sucked.

  When my motor home came into view, I clicked the key fob that unlocked and opened the door.

  My eyes were on his butt as he jogged up the steps.

  As soon as my boot hit the top step, Cres was on me, his mouth ravenous, his fingers at the hollow of my throat as he undid all of the pearl-snap buttons on my shirt with one vicious tug.

  I circled my hand beneath his jaw, breaking free from that tempting mouth so I could think. “Hey, horny toad, how about you let me close the door before you tear off my clothes?”

  “Then hurry the fuck up. You’ve been shaking that tight cowboy ass at me the last three hours and I want it now.”

  I shut and locked the door and d
arkened the blinds, while Cres attacked my neck.

  He peeled my shirt down my arms, carelessly tossing it to the floor. He groaned with frustration. “Why are you wearin’ another shirt?”

  “I always wear an undershirt.”

  “Next time don’t. I hate havin’ to strip another layer off you to get to the good stuff.”

  In the back of my mind I wished I could take the time to bask in Cres’s lust for me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been wanted with such near desperation.

  Then he hooked his fingers in my belt loops and towed me down the hallway to my bedroom so fast we nearly tripped.

  He laughed. “Keep up.”

  Normally I’d be the one urging us to get naked as I assumed the dominant role.

  So it was a fucking rush to let go and follow Cres’s lead.

  Once we cleared the doorway to my bedroom, Cres shoved me against the wall and held my arms by my sides, plastering his body to mine. His lips grazed my ear. “Fast and dirty, Breck. That’s how I’m gonna fuck you.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  He pushed back and dropped his ass to the mattress, keeping his molten gaze on mine as he grabbed the heel of his right cowboy book and yanked it off. A smirk curled his lips when he tipped the boot upside down and two strips of condoms fell on the bed.

  I laughed. “Interesting place to keep them.”

  “Too many to keep in my wallet. Didn’t want to run out.” He lifted his left foot.

  “Got lube in that one?”

  Cres tugged his boot off and tipped it on the bed. Individual packets of lube landed on top of the condoms.

  I laughed again.

  Then Cres was back on his feet. The hunger in his touch, in his eyes, undeniable.

  He rid me of the pesky T-shirt. He braced one hand beside my head. “Take off your boots.”

  Damn difficult to do with his lips leaving wet trails across my collarbones, but I persevered.

  He went into full-on attack mode after the first touch of his tongue to my nipple.

  My head thunked against the wall. The hours working out were worth it to get this reaction out of him. He kept at it, rubbing his face in my chest hair, licking and sucking my nipples, biting them, turning me inside out.

  He dropped to his knees and had my jeans around my ankles and my cock in his mouth while I still reeled from his expert nipple play.

  I glanced down and cupped his gorgeous face in my palms. “You look really fuckin’ hot with my cock in your throat. But I don’t wanna come in your mouth, Cres. I wanna come with your cock in my ass.” There was power in admitting that I wanted to let go of the fierce control I maintained in every aspect of my life—especially sex—and I trusted him to give me what I needed. Keeping a tight grip on his head, I pushed him back, letting my dick slip out so just the tip rested on his lower lip. Then I thrust in deep, fucking his mouth with fast, confident strokes so he understood that while I had no issue with him fucking me, I’d never be a fucking bottom.

  When I released him, he said, “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

  I brushed the condoms aside and looked over my shoulder to see him striding forward, buck-ass nekkid.

  Whoa. Fifteen seconds ago he’d been fully dressed.

  And I saw no sign of the playful man who’d dragged me into my own bedroom. I saw a primal male, oozing raw sexuality and pulsing with conquering greed.

  Holy hell. I nearly nutted right then.

  Cres rolled the condom on and stroked himself. “Face forward and move your knees closer together.”

  The bed jiggled as he climbed on.

  Immediately he caged me beneath his body—something I wouldn’t have believed possible since I had more height and breadth. He nested his cock into the crack of my ass and peppered hot kisses from my left shoulder to my right. Then his lips found my ear and he taunted, “Fast and dirty.”

  Christ. I was already dangling on the edge and he’d barely touched me.

  His tongue followed the line of my spine down.

  And down.

  And down.

  And surely he wasn’t going there.

  Please, please be going there.

  Then his hands were spreading my ass cheeks and his tongue lapped at my hole.

  Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

  Don’t come yet, don’t come yet, or he’ll stop.

  I could hold off if he didn’t…and then he did.

  Cres gently sucked on the ring of muscles and alternated between soft kisses and tender licks on the clenching pucker. His grunting growls of pleasure vibrated across my skin, sending tingles straight up my spine and down to my balls. His fingertips dug into the globes of my ass with enough pressure to leave bruises.

  I’d never wanted the marks of a man’s possession as much as I needed his.

  Then he plunged his tongue into my ass.

  The edges of my consciousness went a little hazy.

  Cres must’ve sensed I couldn’t take much more before I’d blow, so he backed off.

  I felt a cool smear of lube and the slow press of one finger inside me. I groaned and pushed back, signaling I was ready for more.

  He added more lube and another finger, his breath hot in my ear as he prepared me with the patience and surety that kicked my anticipation even higher.

  Then the head of his cock rested against my hole.

  He didn’t ask if I was ready. One hard snap of his hips and his cock was fully embedded in my ass.

  My dick slapped against my belly from the driving force when he started to fuck me.

  It’d been a dry spell the last year and I should’ve been wincing in pain. But he’d prepared me well enough that all I felt was the sweet ache of pleasure.

  “Gonna have to jack yourself this go,” he panted. “Because fuck…I’m almost done in.”

  I had a moment to bask in the sense of satisfaction that he already teetered on the brink of unraveling—that he’d needed this as much, or maybe more than I did. Balancing on my forearm, I fisted my cock, too far gone to do anything but watch my hand between my legs as I beat off.

  I had a zip of warning before my balls tightened and I was spurting into my fist.

  Cres grunted and stopped moving completely. The rhythmic squeezing of my anal passage was intense enough to pull his orgasm from him, and he shuddered above me.

  Fuck, yeah. That’s what I needed.

  As I attempted to level my breathing, I snagged the undershirt I’d left on the bed and wiped my sticky hand.

  That’s when I heard it. An odd-sounding, wounded noise.

  A panicked noise.

  No fucking way. He wasn’t running out on me again. We’d deal with his guilt or sadness or whatever together.

  When he started to pull out, to pull back, to pull away, I reached around and clamped my hand behind his quivering thigh. “Don’t,” I said gruffly. “I need a sec.”

  That brought him out of it. “Sure. Sorry.”

  I slowly pushed up onto my knees, keeping his cock—which hadn’t seemed to have softened at all—lodged in my ass.

  Immediately Cres slid his hands up the front of my body, over my abs, ribs, and chest. He curled his fingers over my shoulders, flattening his palms to my collarbones. He pressed his lips to the nape of my neck and squeezed me tight.