Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Winona Wilder

  Anger welled up inside him. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, as well as heartache, betrayal, and insecurity. He was an emotional basket case.

  After calling out his misgivings to Tyler, ready to make haste and get back home where he belonged, the cowboy made eye contact. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he stumbled, fell, and stumbled again as he tried to get closer to Marcus. The chair he’d been sitting on crashed to the floor, and he pushed the other roughnecks out of his way. “Wait. It’s not what you think…”

  Marcus wanted to tell Tyler he looked pathetic, had degraded himself once again when he was perfectly ready to love him for the rest of his life, but he kept silent and left.

  He was exhausted from the long drive and no sleep. The early morning sun burned his eyes as he walked away from the bar, eager to put distance between him and Tyler and whoever the fuck he was associating with. Marcus felt small and cheap and wanted to escape. To where he didn’t know because even home wasn’t home.

  “Wait!” Tyler stumbled after him, his boots shuffling along the gravel.

  “Stay away from me. Go back to your friends.” He kept walking, not turning back.

  “Marcus…Stop! Listen to me for a minute, goddammit!”

  This time he stopped, internally cringing thanks to his Catholic upbringing. He didn’t turn to face him, just stood to listen. “What?”

  “I’m a bit drunk. I was passing out. Alone. I have no clue where those guys came from, but they’re not with me.”

  Marcus whirled on him, his temperature through the roof. He’d traveled all the way out here—for what? To feel worse than he had pining for something that wasn’t even real? “First of all, you’re not a bit drunk. You’re literally fall-down drunk, and it’s disgusting. Second of all, your personal life isn’t really my business, is it? I’m just some lame-ass city boy who gave you a few hours of sex.”

  Tyler barreled forward, pinning his arms to his sides as he backed him up against a wooden lean-to. His strength, even when piss drunk, astounded Marcus. It also brought his strong attraction for the cowboy to the surface, despite his irritation. “Darlin’, don’t test me. I’ve been out of my mind crazy wondering why you never showed up as promised.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You said you were coming three days ago. I’ve been walking around like a zombie.” He loosened his grip on his biceps. “Today was the first day I turned to the bottle. How much heartache did you expect me to take? I’m only a man.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you weren’t fucking around in there? I’m not so naïve, Tyler. I know who you are.”

  “If you know who I am, why’d you come back at all?” He dropped his arms and stepped back, holding his gaze. Marcus wanted his hands back on him, even if it hurt. The sudden distance felt like an ocean between them when he was so emotionally fragile.

  “Because!” What should he say? The absurd truth that he actually thought he was in love? He drove straight through the night just to see him again? But love shouldn’t be one-sided, unconditional or irrevocable. Tyler couldn’t lie his way out of this one. Marcus had been out of sight, out of mind.

  “Because what?”

  He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of laughing him out of town. Marcus already looked like a fool, and he was an outsider on Tyler’s turf, a prude in a polo shirt. There was a gaggle of real men in the bar—strong, rough, dominant, and muscled to the teeth. Tyler belonged with one of them, and no doubt preferred them to Marcus. “I only came to give you another offer from Cavendish. It wasn’t my idea.”

  “Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head in suspicion. “Okay. What’s the offer, sweetheart? I’m dying to hear it.”

  “It’s–It’s another sponsorship.”

  Tyler nodded and his narrowed eyes told Marcus he didn’t believe a word. “Another sponsorship?”

  “You know, you’re pretty coherent for a drunk guy.”

  He inched closer. “Cowboys can hold their liquor. I’m sure a cute thing like you is pure as snow, aren’t you? You’d get drunk from a thimbleful.”

  “Are you mocking me? Because I was a virgin?”

  “Whoa there.” Tyler caged him against the wooden plank wall, his large body leaning towards him. He smelled slightly of alcohol and burning wood—a comforting, rustic combination. “That’s just one of the things I love about you, darlin’. You’re mine. All mine.”

  “And who do you belong to, Tyler James? Any man who makes a half-assed offer? Or does he just have to have a big dick?”

  The cowboy laughed, a low rumbling sound that brought out his hackles.

  “That’s what led me to you, no?” Tyler reached low and cupped Marcus’s balls and cock, giving a slight squeeze. He couldn’t stop the drawn-out moan that escaped his lips.

  “Don’t…” He wanted to tell him never to stop, to strip him, fuck him, love him. But he had his pride and had to be cautious. All he really knew about Tyler were rumors, all of them bad.

  “Are you gonna tell me no, Marcus? I have a nice, clean room in this town. Got it with you in mind.” He wrapped his free hand around his waist, tugging him closer, his other hand still on his crotch. The sound of his voice made him harder than the wood he leaned against.

  He couldn’t say no, even if it tore him apart to lose him a second time. “I’ll come on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “It’s my turn to fuck you.”

  * * * *

  Tyler went weak in the knees when his little angel demanded the chance to fuck him. He wouldn’t deny him, not today. Marcus was well endowed, and he could imagine how snugly he’d fill his ass, igniting all his dormant nerves, lighting his body on fire with desire.

  “That’s a boy.” He leaned in close, whispering against the shell of his ear. “I’ll suck your dick first, until you beg me to stop. Then you’re gonna get double-fucked. I’ll lube up a nice fat dildo and fuck you with it. When you’re good and ripe, I’ll bend over and you can ram your beautiful cock into my ass.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Tyler laughed again, barely able to move without causing discomfort to himself. Not only were his ribs bruised, but his dick was painfully engorged.

  They didn’t waste time in moving to their new location in the motel down the street. It wasn’t a long walk, but still felt like miles when they were both desperate to be alone. But as soon as they entered the door, they didn’t crash onto the bed as he’d anticipated. There was an awkward divide between them, so many unspoken confessions and concerns. The silence had a life of its own.

  Tyler bent down to pick up the keys he’d dropped and winced when he stood up.

  “What’s the matter?” Marcus was next to him in a flash, smoothing his hands down his shoulders.

  “The bull had his way with me this morning.” He chuckled, but even the slight jostling made his ribs ache.

  “I really wish you wouldn’t ride the bulls. I don’t like any of this. It’s dangerous.”

  “If I had you to take care of me, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” The awkward tension shifted to an erotic longing. They looked each other in the eyes, not speaking, just wanting.

  When Tyler had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well as being older and more experienced. Marcus made Tyler feel like all male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for cleanliness. It was all endearing to Tyler. He wanted to claim the Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he discovered.

  “Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him, carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly. Tyler couldn’t help but run his hand through
his shiny, black hair, savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked.

  “Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in his lover’s eyes.

  “Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace. “And city boys aren’t so gullible.”

  Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?”

  “Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.”

  Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming.

  “What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep off the alcohol.”

  “I can’t go to sleep.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m scared you won’t be here when I wake up.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tyler slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest, the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with Tyler’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out, Tyler mentioned his clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within the hour by the looks of it.

  He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret choosing Tyler.

  “This your truck?” A gruff male voice came from behind him as he unlocked the driver’s side.

  He turned around. The man wore jean overalls, and he was slightly overweight. There was a negative air to him that brought out Marcus’s hackles. “Who’s asking?”

  “Looks like your tires were slashed.”

  He stepped back, forgetting the man, only concerned to see the tires for himself. At least one was indeed flat. Marcus whirled around. “You see who did this?”

  The stranger was already walking away, not bothering to turn or answer. Marcus stood in place for a minute, and then he decided to grab the duffel bag and get back to the room before Tyler woke up. He wondered if there was even a place in town where they could get new tires for the truck on short notice. Who would do such a thing? Everyone seemed to love Tyler everywhere he went. Marcus would expect something like this back in the city where senseless crime ran rampant, not in this quaint little town.

  He crept back in the room. The interior was dim with the heavy drapes pulled shut. Tyler shifted on the bed as Marcus clicked the lock into place and dropped the duffel bag on the ground with a thump. “Where’d you go, darlin’?”

  “Just got your bag. How you feeling?”

  “Hard. For you.” He patted the side of the bed. “I’ve rested as you demanded, sweet thing. You’re not going to prolong my punishment now, are you?”

  He joined Tyler near the bed, the world forgotten as he gazed into those luscious green eyes. “I wasn’t punishing you. I was looking out for you.” Marcus sat on the mattress and ran his hands over Tyler’s muscled sides. The bruises remained, but he didn’t flinch as much as he did yesterday.

  “I love the way you touch me,” the cowboy whispered. He tucked his arms behind his head and took a cleansing breath. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” His brown hair was tousled from sleep, his thick-lashed eyes heavy.

  All he’d thought about the past week were his feelings for Tyler and the erotic peak the other man so easily brought him to. He pulled back the blankets slightly, exposing Tyler’s ripped abs and the thin trail of hair leading to the tent in the light covering.

  “Everyone makes mistakes.”

  He ran his fingers lightly up and down his torso until Tyler surprised him by grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. “No more teasing. Touch me. Really touch me.”

  Marcus was just as hard as Tyler. The promise from last night kept echoing in his head—he’d get his chance to fuck another man for the first time. He slipped the blanket off the hidden erection. Tyler groaned, returning his arm back under his head, his eyes drifting shut. He stroked the cowboy, savoring the silky skin as he pumped up and down, memorizing every vein and curve of Tyler’s cockhead.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week. I wanted to come, but I was scared. Scared you’d reject me.”

  “Never that.” Tyler sat up and pulled Marcus down against his chest. He was so strong, so alive. When his lips met his own it healed all the lonely hours of longing. Nothing mattered except the here and now. Tyler’s lips were thick and he kissed with enough skill to take his breath away.

  “Remember what you told me? Were you just playing…about the sex stuff?”

  Tyler smirked. “About getting double fucked? A dildo in your ass as you fuck me?”

  He knew his cheeks were turning red. Tyler’s unabashed way of speaking was so different from his politically correct coworkers or religious relatives, and it turned him on more than anything. “Yeah. That.”

  Marcus sat up and ripped his polo shirt from his body. “That’s my boy. You’re gorgeous.” Tyler reached for his shoulders, pulling himself up to a sit. The cowboy leaned down and sucked his nipples, making them pebble, and delicious heat radiated all the way down to his balls.

  “You sure you wouldn’t rather have one of them cowboys from yesterday?”

  “Darlin’, I already told you nothing happened.” He cupped Marcus’s face. “From that first day, I knew you were the one man who could make me change my wild ways.”

  God, Marcus didn’t realize how much he needed to be accepted, desired, wanted by another human being—unconditionally, irrevocably. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but he wouldn’t cry in front of the other man. Tyler was a hardcore cowboy and probably wouldn’t appreciate such an open display of emotion.

  He got a reprieve as Tyler reached the night table drawer, pulling out a small black velvet bag. “Open it.”

  Marcus pulled the drawstring open and peered inside. “You’re going to ruin me, Tyler James.” He shook the bag upside down on the mattress between them. A tube of lubricant and a thick silicone dildo toppled out.

  “We’re just getting started. Now lose the pants so we can have some real fun.”

  * * * *

  Tyler woke up in a panic. Just as he had nearly every morning since Marcus left the last town, but this time was much worse. The dream had been more real this time, making his heart ache for the other man. As he bolted up in bed, sweat-glistened, heart beating strong, he began to piece together the night before. Although well rested, the lingering, dull headache from too much alcohol clung to him. He remembered coming back to the room with Marcus, but maybe it was just a fantasy caused by his overindulgence.

  He dropped back on the bed, focusing on the narrow slits of light along the ceiling from the gaps in the heavy curtains. When the door began to open he immediately tensed, ready to reach under the bed for his Colt. But the silhouette was comfortingly familiar. It hadn’t been a dream. Marcus had co
me back.

  After their loving confessions, his little city boy followed his orders to lose his clothes. He was in for a surprise. Tyler had past experiences with some of the kinkiest men alive, including Jet Cartwright himself, and he’d learned a thing or two in the bedroom. Now he couldn’t even fathom a new conquest. All that mattered was teaching Marcus, loving him and giving him his all.

  “Do you remember how it felt when I took your virginity?” He brushed Marcus’s hair back—silky, black, and shiny.

  “It hurt, and then it felt like heaven.”

  “This’ll be much the same. Even if it feels weird, don’t tense up. I’ll ease it in, nice and slow, okay?”

  Marcus nodded, and Tyler guided him down to his side. His back was toned to perfection, a beautiful golden hue like the rest of his body. He lubed up the silicone phallus and spread the man’s ass cheeks apart to reveal the tight, puckered hole. So tight. He’d love the chance to fuck him today, but he’d promised his lover a chance at this new experience. Besides, Tyler knew in his heart that this act would solidify their relationship, make him Marcus’s as much as the other man was his.

  It was difficult breaching the tight anal ring. As much as he didn’t want to hurt Marcus, he knew from experience the pain would be brief. In time, he’d learn to love that initial stab of pain, the promise of pleasure to come. He let the fake cock dangle, just an inch inserted, until Marcus adjusted. While he waiting he showered his back with kisses, nipping his shoulder blades, his ear lobes, and stubbled jawline.

  Once Marcus began to moan, wiggling against the toy, Tyler continued to feed the cock into his ass. It glided in smoothly thanks to the lube and the man’s willingness to accept the length. “How does it feel, baby? Do you like your ass filled up?”

  “I prefer your cock, your heat.”