He could feel the cowboy’s huge cock fighting for entrance. It was hard to relax and accept him as Tyler suggested. He was so tense, so nervous, so lost. That first thrust brought tears to his eyes both from the pain and the loss. But as Tyler slowly fed the full length of his rigid cock into his ass, it proceeded smoothly, only an uncomfortable pressure left. He could feel the partial weight of the cowboy drop over him, feel the heat from his skin against his back. Tyler planted kisses over his shoulder blades and neck. Never did he thrust or move, only throbbed inside him as he adjusted to the invasion. Marcus appreciated the kind gesture, considering they were strangers and didn’t owe each other a favor.
Tyler whispered in his ear, “You did it.” In a way it was a hurdle in his life, something that had to happen and was long overdue. He could hear the genuine pride in Tyler’s voice, and it made him feel special, victorious.
The cowboy began to move, the sensation of each thrust sent Marcus’s nerves into overdrive. Every sensation felt magnified and vibrant, pulling him deeper and deeper into an erotic web. His cock was pinned painfully against the mattress where he couldn’t reach. The mix of pleasure and pain twisted into a deep-seated longing for more of the same.
“You okay?” Tyler asked. He nodded, too focused to speak. All he wanted was more friction, more new sensations from his cowboy lover. Then Tyler’s strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him to the edge of the bed. “Walk to the wall with my dick in your ass.”
Tyler’s hard-on bent and tugged inside him as he moved. When he nearly reached the wall he stretched out his arms and braced himself, his upper body on an angle. “Give me more,” he begged.
“Darlin’, use one hand for support and use the other to fuck yourself. We’re gonna come together.” Tyler was so raw, so untamed. Every word he said in that sexy Southern drawl sparked life into his long dormant body.
He wrapped a fist around his girth and pumped, matching the rhythm Tyler kept in his ass. It was exquisite. The double stimulation had his eyes rolling back in his head. Streaks of light passed by his vision and he felt the pressure building and building in his balls. His pending release would rival all others by his hand.
“Damn, you’re tight. You’re hugging my dick so tight I can’t hold off another second.” He growled behind him, a feral sound which only excited him. His cultivated, lackluster lifestyle in the city could never compare to this untamed abandon. “I’m gonna fill you with my seed, sweet thing.”
“Do it!” He pumped his shaft three more times and he exploded. Marcus called out as a wide arch of white ejaculate sprayed the wall. Moments later, Tyler rammed him hard, growling his own release. They stayed frozen in time for a long moment before the cowboy gently slid out of his ass.
Now what? Marcus felt a new vulnerability. Since he never did relationships, he’d never known heartbreak or the intense need now surfacing under his skin. Now he’d have to man up and watch his first lover walk out of his life.
Chapter Four
Tyler knew Marcus had watched him barrel race. He felt his stare as he prodded his horse around the sharp corners. The cheering crowd didn’t fill him with the same enthusiasm as it always had. Why couldn’t he focus? The city boy had transformed into a country and western cover model once he’d donned Tyler’s old jeans and T-shirt. He couldn’t stop envisioning him or remembering the hot sex. He’d actually taken the man’s virginity, forced him to accept his dormant sexuality. It felt like a heavy responsibility, and it ate away at him. Tyler always avoided commitment, which was the reason he refused to be sponsored by Cavendish or anyone else, company or individual. Fucking around, guilt-free one-night stands, and living large were his way of life.
Now his world was tilting off its axis.
He didn’t even wait for the winners to be announced before he leapt over the wooden fence. Fans and friends patted him on the back. The crowd was thick and the noise deafening. Tyler couldn’t find Marcus, not even where he’d spotted him in his peripheral vision during the event. Had he imagined him? He continued to search the grounds, weaving through the throngs of spectators, feeling desperation creep up his neck.
“You see the man I was with earlier?” he asked one of the hired hands.
“Nope.”
He ran up the main road to the diner, bursting through the glass door, half out of breath. “Dara, you see the man I was with earlier?”
“No, but I wish he’d pay me a visit.” She winked.
He made haste getting out, ignoring the chorus of laughter. What was wrong with him? When had a quick fuck ever stayed in his thoughts? The closest he’d gotten to another man was Jet Cartwright, but even that was just a familiarity, not the longing he now felt as he searched for the city boy. After an extensive exploration, he gave up, leaning against one of the barns. He felt hot and clammy, but knew he had another round to get set up for. The Saddle Bronc competition would need his full concentration and strength, but his mind was elsewhere and his body weary from running around like a fool.
All he could surmise was that he needed an agent to help him forget—alcohol. It was the substance he used to escape the past, and now he’d use it to escape the present. It pissed him off that he’d allowed emotion to creep into his being. Tyler had even been tempted to ask Marcus to stay the night with him, not to split the cost of the room, but because he wanted to make love to him—which was ridiculous.
* * * *
Marcus felt like a stupid, jilted teenager. It had been sex with a drifter, nothing more. If anything, he should have thanked Tyler for opening his eyes, helping him accept what he knew was there all along. Now it was time to face the music.
As he’d watched Tyler ride his horse in competition—cowboy hat, leather chaps, number 444 pinned to his back—he knew one night would never be enough. He wanted it all, and knew he couldn’t have it with a wildcard like Tyler. It was time for him to suck it up like a man and return to the city.
He got in his sedan, pumped the air-conditioning, and stared at the windshield for nearly twenty minutes. The shirt he wore smelled like Tyler, rich musk and the great outdoors. He had to return home to his empty condo, back to his fake life, the one he led to keep everyone else happy.
There was a loud rap on the driver’s side window, pulling him from his reverie. When he turned to the side, an old man with a salt-and-pepper beard and straw hat scowled through the glass barrier. Marcus used his control panel to lower the window a few inches, unsure what the uncouth-looking man wanted from him.
“Can I help you?”
“Marcus Vita-something, I take it?”
He nodded. “Vinetti.”
A few other men joined him from behind. “Then I suggest you get your butt back to the event because we ain’t letting you leave town until you do.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me? I’ll inform you I do have a cell phone, and it will only take me one minute to call your local sheriff.”
The old man laughed, along with his counterparts. “The sheriff’s looking for you, too. Tyler James refuses to ride his event until we all find you. I, for one, have a lot of money riding on that boy.”
Tyler wanted him? Actually sent these crazed country folks out looking for him? He felt a rush of excitement swirl around inside him.
He followed his escorts back to the rodeo grounds. “I’m not gay,” he said, unsure why he felt the need to blurt out the information to the group of men.
A couple of them laughed, and then the old man said, “No man is before he spends a night with Tyler James. After that, not so sure.”
Okay, he was gay and for some reason infatuated with a cowboy he had no business falling for. Like half the fucking town professed, Tyler was a playboy, ready to screw any man who showed him interest. Marcus didn’t want to be a number, a passing fancy at one of his stops. He wanted to be special, like he felt right now because Tyler had sent for him. How long would the fantasy last?
“Look who we found trying to split town,” said his c
aptor as they approached the abandoned side of an outbuilding. Marcus could hear the roar of the crowd around the corner. He felt inept as Tyler gave him the once-over. He was leaning against the building with one boot propped up, a cigarette between his fingers. When he gave a push off and moved towards Marcus, he also waved the other men away. “Tell them to give me ten and I’ll be there.”
They scattered, leaving the two men alone in the secluded spot in an otherwise overrun town. “Leaving without saying good-bye?”
“I thought it would be appropriate. I didn’t want to make a big fuss.” He coughed slightly from the smoke.
Tyler flicked the cigarette butt away. “Sorry, darlin’. I know about your lungs. I’m gonna stop the filthy habit just for you.”
“That’s a good idea. It’s bad for your health.”
The cowboy smirked. “How about you stay and watch me one more time, no running off, then we’ll talk for a bit.”
Marcus’s heart clenched. He couldn’t let the cowboy play with his emotions and expectations like this. He prided himself on being a modern, successful businessman. He was well respected, took care of his health, and had family that loved him. But here he was, ready to throw it all away from one more night with the drifter. Fuck, he was messed up bad. “Talk about what? How you’ll be moving on to the next rodeo town in a week, fucking the next clueless man who shows you attention?” Where did that come from? Marcus was not a jealous man, nor did he have a temper. Now he felt like a volcano ready to lose its top just thinking about Tyler moving on with his life without him.
“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Tyler cupped his face, leaned in, and kissed him once on the lips. Those lips were perfect, firm yet soft, and just as precious on his lips as they were wrapped around his cock.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Don’t use fancy words with me, darlin’. It makes my dick hard for you.”
This was unhealthy. The strength of the lust he felt for this man was all encompassing, making him forget all his responsibilities back home. Nothing mattered about the here and now—about getting alone in that dank hotel room to experience more carnal pleasures. “I thought you had to ride soon?”
“I do. But you have to promise to be waiting for me when I’m through. I just need eight seconds, and then I’m all yours.” For how long? Another night? A week maybe? Then what—a long distant relationship where Marcus drove himself nuts wondering what Tyler was up to? No, it would never work.
“Fine. We’ll talk for a bit, and then I have to head out.” Would eight seconds be enough for him to gain his composure? To say good-bye to the man who took as well as gave him everything?
* * * *
Tyler excelled at his ride, wanting more than anything to make Marcus proud. Knowing he watched him ride that wild stallion gave him renewed strength and stamina to last past the bell. By the time they walked up the main street to the hotel, the sun was sinking on the horizon. The twilight hush and lack of tourists at this end of the street created an intimate atmosphere. The gravel beneath his boots crunched with each step.
“So, what do you do besides work for Cavendish?”
“Well, I hope to make partner soon, and then I’ll be set.”
Marcus was moving up in the world and had a bright future. Tyler, with his lack of education, couldn’t help but think he’d drag the other man down. His intelligence turned him on, but also scared him. “I said besides work. What do you do for fun?”
He shrugged. “Go to the gym?”
“What about friends, family?”
“I suppose I’m too busy at work to socialize as much as I’d like. My family can be overbearing, so I find myself trying to avoid them more often than not.”
They reached the hotel, and Tyler unlocked the door. Just being back inside the room they’d recently had sex in made his body heat with need. But he wanted to do this right, to show Marcus that he liked him for more than the usual one-nighter. He wasn’t so sure what the fuck he wanted himself. Commitment freaked him out, but the thought of losing Marcus made him even crazier.
“Family can be tricky. They know about you?”
“No,” he snapped without thought. “I could never tell them. If I did, I’d be outcast. That’s just a fact.”
“They don’t sound much different than my own folks. Sometimes you have to just do what’s best for you and cut the apron strings.”
Marcus sat at the small, round dinette table, and Tyler sat across from him, holding out his hands. When Marcus placed his hands in his, he squeezed tight, hoping to convey what was in his heart without needing to speak. He was never good with words. In fact, he’d avoided any emotional declarations for most of his life.
“What happened with your family?” The concern in Marcus’s voice was heavy. The poor boy was worrying himself sick in hopes of being accepted. Acceptance. It was one word that packed a punch greater than most. The entire human condition seemed rooted to this one word.
“Long story. All I can tell you is you’re better off relying on yourself rather than hoping for validation that is unlikely to come.” Tyler had never told anyone the story of his own family. It was one of those dark, dirty things Tyler kept locked away in his brain until it was difficult to recall. Tyler had large blocks of his youth stripped from memory because of things he’d rather forget.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Being here when I needed you. Showing me another way.” Marcus took a breath and exhaled slowly. “You don’t even know me, but you’ve been a good friend.”
Tyler cringed. A good friend? He bit his lip and kept silent. He’d grown good at masking his feelings over the years, to the point people saw him as a man-whore, a drifter that had nothing in his head but sex and a death wish. It was better that way.
“Before you go, I’d love to leave you with a little something to remember me by.” He winked at the city boy, hoping to convey the full extent of his intentions.
Marcus tilted his lips into a crooked half smile. “I think I owe you from this morning.” He rose from his seat, stretching out to his full height. Rather than walk to the bed, he bent down in front of Tyler, bracing his weight on his knees.
He undid his belt. The whoosh of leather and clank of the buckle were the only sounds in the small room. Tyler leaned back, getting comfortable for what he knew was about to happen. His own dark-haired angel was going to suck him.
“You ever done this before?”
“I told you you’re my first. That goes for everything. I just hope I do this right for you.” He reached into his pants and freed his cock, which slapped tight up against his stomach.
“You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes, darlin’. I just want to feel your sweet lips on my dick.”
Marcus gave a tentative lick. “You taste good. Salty.” He should shower after the hard ride, but couldn’t stop now.
“Then take more.” He closed his eyes as his lover closed his mouth around his cockhead. The heat and pressure were nearly enough to unravel him. When Marcus began to suck and pump the base with his fist, he groaned and reached for the sides of his face. “I bet you never came to Yorkville expecting to have a man’s dick in your mouth.”
Marcus pulled off long enough to speak. “Don’t be nasty.”
“You love my nasty.” Tyler guided Marcus deeper, attempting to teach him what he liked with gentle prodding and coaxing.
When Marcus became lost to the act, the sound of wet flesh becoming louder and louder, Tyler reluctantly pulled back.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, but you’re about to make me come in your mouth.” He nodded to the bed. He’d been thinking about this moment ever since he couldn’t find Marcus after his barrel race. For the first time in his life, Tyler would make love to a man, show him his feelings through sex because using words would be too much. Sex had always been a tool for him. He used it to get what he wanted or when he needed to be built up or brought down. Tonig
ht he’d use it for what it was meant to be.
He stripped off his clothes, eying the dark-eyed god on the bed in front of him. “I love your body,” said Marcus. His eyes roamed over his shoulders, chest, and down to his prominent erection. Tyler could feel his stare brand into his flesh.
“Get your clothes off. All of them.” He stood at the end of the bed watching Marcus slip out of his clothing while he slowly stroked his cock. Soon he’d be in heaven, fucking Marcus’s tight ass.
Once fully naked, Tyler took his time with Marcus. He ran a finger down the center of his chest, along the dark trail of hair leading to his bobbing cock, swaying freely in the air, hard and ripe. He never touched him where he needed him most. When he crawled over his prone body, Marcus stopped him with a hand to the chest. “What about the condom and lube?”
“Not yet. I want to enjoy you tonight.” He kissed his neck, licking, sucking, tasting. Marcus closed his eyes, moaning soft, sensual sounds that made Tyler hungrier than ever. He wanted to own the city boy, keep him under his watch for the rest of his days. Imagining some asshole taking advantage of him, taking what was his, brought out his beast.
“Do I get to fuck you?”
“Maybe later. But not tonight.” Tyler ran his hand through Marcus’s dark hair, studying the sharp, chiseled Mediterranean features he adored. He hesitated at first, but knew he couldn’t hold back this time. Tyler braced his weight on his forearms and kissed Marcus on the lips. What started out as a light brush quickly morphed into a desperate passion. Their tongues battled as they savored and tasted each other. Tyler couldn’t get enough, needed so much more. Their naked bodies pressed together, their dicks battling as he slightly rose and lowered his frame.
Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 4