“Ah, ah, ah. You’re staying put.”
He turned to the window where the voice originated. Marcus was standing by the bed, the morning light spilling in from behind highlighting him like an angel. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
Tyler searched his muddled thoughts, digging deep and becoming frustrated when he couldn’t recall any recent events. “I’m trying.”
“But you remember me, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He reached out, not wanting to upset his boyfriend. The rodeo was closing up soon, and it was only a few weeks until they moved into their new home. How the hell he ended up in the hospital was the only wrench in his memories.
Marcus took his hand, and Tyler pulled it to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “What do you remember about last night?”
“Um…”
“Do you remember having dinner? What about riding earlier?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I remember you watching me ride.”
“And after?”
Tyler’s head began to pound again. Why couldn’t he remember? Had he hit his head? He felt a dull throbbing at his neck and reached to touch it. There was a thick bandage on the side of his neck. “What on earth? Darlin’, I don’t remember anything that happened after my ride. Did I get tossed in another event?”
“Don’t touch.” Marcus gently smacked his probing hand. “You got hurt pretty bad, but you’ll live. When I take you home, you’re going to be under my care. Your season just got cut short.”
“But—”
Marcus shook his head. “No buts! You nearly got yourself killed. We’ll wait out the next couple weeks at a decent motel, and then you’ll park yourself on the sofa while my cousins and I move us into our new home.”
“The fall must have knocked the sense out of me.” Tyler took a cleansing breath, feeling full of butterflies despite being in the hospital. He was alive and had the best man in the world to spend his life with.
* * * *
Marcus stepped out onto the gleaming waxed hallway. The two officers were waiting for his statement. He’d already been at the police station half the night, but they wanted to find out what Tyler knew about the murders. Since he couldn’t recall last night’s events, Marcus was going to take his place for questioning. The small-town cops didn’t look overly concerned when he joined them around a small table in a nearby staff room. Apparently rubbing out a neighbor wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in this part of the state.
“So…” the balding officer began.
He wasn’t going to play games. Marcus planned to advocate for his boyfriend, come hell or high water. “Tyler can’t remember a thing, and I want it to stay that way.”
“He was a witness. He’ll still need to make a statement.”
Marcus was in his element now. No fear or uncertainty. Handling business and legal matters was his forte at work. They often used him as a negotiator during contract talks. These hicks didn’t know who the fuck they were dealing with. “I’ll get him to sign an affidavit stating that he has no recollection of last night. You’re not going to drag him down a hellish memory lane just so you can update your files.”
The older man scratched his temple. “You don’t plan on telling him?”
“No. I don’t.” He used this thickest executive voice, the one he saved for businesses trying to swindle Cavendish. “And if any of you feel the need to fill him in, I’m sure Cavendish saddles wouldn’t be too eager to support the rodeo in this town next year, or the next, which I believe helps pay the salaries for the police force.”
“You’re with Cavendish?”
“As Tyler would say, damn straight. Now, can we finish up? The doctor said I can take him home this afternoon. Let’s not forget, we’re the victims here.”
Marcus left the room and collected himself emotionally before joining Tyler. It wouldn’t be easy keeping the truth from him, but he’d carry that burden on himself. He’d rather live with nightmares than pass them on to the man he loved.
When he’d seen the blood, watched Tyler fall to the ground, his mind transcended his body. It was surreal and horrifying. At the moment those two men went for the kill, Marcus didn’t hesitate in pulling the small pistol from his waistband and firing. He’d secretly taken Tyler’s gun along to the diner to calm his nerves, never expecting he’d actually need to use it. Marcus hadn’t stopped shaking all night after coming to the hospital, but he didn’t regret what he did, what he had to do.
Tyler went into minor surgery to sew up the lacerations on his neck. He lost a lot of blood, mostly from when he hit his head after falling. The memory loss was an unexpected bonus. But he believed it was more than that. Tyler often spoke about large segments of his memories that had gone missing during the worst years of his childhood, his body’s natural defense to keep some level of sanity in a world gone mad. This amnesia was a godsend, or exactly what his mind needed as an excuse to forget events better left forgotten.
Marcus may have to keep the secret, live with the gut-wrenching knowledge that he was responsible for taking two men’s lives, but it was worth any suffering on his part. He loved Tyler too much. Now his cowboy could live life without looking over his back, not have to feel that sense of dread that one day his foster brothers would come for him or Marcus. Tyler hadn’t even told him half the things they’d done to him, the things that had him calling out in the night or waking up sweaty and terrified. Even though they were dead and gone, self-defense reported on the police record, there was no reason for Tyler to deal with the drama. His mind gave him peace, and Marcus wasn’t going to steal that away.
He reentered the room. “How’re you feeling now?”
“Can’t say I’m right as rain, but not too bad considering…”
Tyler’s hair was matted and his skin ashen, but he looked adorable in a boyish way. All he wanted to do was bring him home, take care of him, and love him. He never wanted to see this town, this hospital, or these police ever again. Marcus wanted to put the ordeal behind them and begin the life they were meant to live with each other.
“You look good for losing so much blood. Good thing you eat all the protein you do.” He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.
“Mmm, I could eat ten steaks right now. How long have I gone without eating?”
“You’ll survive, cowboy.” Marcus leaned over and kissed Tyler on the forehead. They’d make it through this together.
After a mountain of paperwork from the police and hospital staff to get Tyler released, they were in Marcus’s car heading out of town. It was strange driving and driving with nothing but prairies around them on the endless stretch of highway. He imagined this had been a snapshot of Tyler’s life when he lived as a drifter, going from one town to the next, alone, with no roots or final destination. Marcus looked to his side to find Tyler hunched to the side, asleep. He sighed contentedly. As long as he had Tyler, he could handle any obstacle. He only prayed that a semi-stationary life wouldn’t be too dull for the hardcore cowboy. Would he bore of Marcus over time? Would he resent him if he ever found he hid the truth about last night?
* * * *
The recovery wasn’t too bad. His body was sore, but no worse than taking a fall in the ring. After the accident his mind was a hazy mess, and it drove him mad that he couldn’t remember the events. Marcus was shaken to the core, despite trying to act unscathed.
They were staying in a new motel after he was released from the hospital. That was when his memories began to return, as if a net was lifted off his mind. He replayed the night over and over in his head, not able to forget the fear on Marcus’s face. His city boy loved him. He’d sacrificed everything for Tyler, and he wouldn’t ever forget that.
Marcus’s lies about the accident were forgivable, especially when he had Tyler’s best intentions in mind. There were so many moments he wanted to reveal he got his memories back, but didn’t want to diminish the gift Marcus made. He’d taken the bu
rden of that night on his shoulders so Tyler wouldn’t have to suffer with the violent memories.
The truth was, Tyler had dealt with much worse in his life. A few more unsavory memories couldn’t break him. His past could no longer control him because he had a loving, secure relationship to ground him. He’d spend the rest of his life showing Marcus how much he appreciated him.
* * * *
Tyler walked in small circles as he attempted to break one of his new colts. Only two were green broke, but he’d have the other three tamed in no time. In fact, he had all the time in the world. The sky was a robin’s-egg blue, not a cloud to be seen. Their land stretched beyond the horizon, lush fields, and acres of hardwood. It had been over a month since they’d settled into their new homestead and decided to take up horse breeding as a side income.
“Hey!”
He turned, careful not to get tied up in all the slack from the training lead. Marcus stood on the wraparound porch, just a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Lord, the man was magnificent. His dark hair was slicked back, his skin golden and moist. “I’m just finishing up.” Tyler cautiously approached the colt and then led him back into the main barn. It was so odd having his own place. It would take a lot of getting used to before he realized this was their home and he never had to leave or worry about someone kicking him out.
Tyler dusted off his jeans with his Stetson as he stepped up onto the balcony. Marcus welcomed him with a kiss, a soft, sensual kiss. “You should get showered after all that work.”
“You just don’t want me smelling like a horse.” He chuckled and playfully smacked Marcus on the ass.
Marcus shrugged before taking a seat on the bench swing, looking off into the fields. Tyler often wondered if Marcus was happy here, so far away from the city and everything he knew. Was the isolation stifling him? Did he regret their relationship? He sat beside Marcus and kneaded his thigh, setting the swing into motion. “You okay?”
“Great.”
“Do you want to go into town for dinner tonight? Or we could pick up pizzas and bring them home?” He just wanted Marcus to talk to him, really talk to him. There was something he held back, and he suspected the cause but was reluctant to bring it up. He just wanted him to be happy, like he’d made him. If moving to the city was the answer, he’d do it in a heartbeat, even if it wasn’t his first choice.
“Sure.”
“Darlin’, look at me.” He turned the other man’s cheek to face him. His eyes were glazed over. “What’s the matter with you lately?”
He shook his head and looked away.
“Don’t you start with me. I know when something’s wrong with you.” He took a breath. “You’re not happy.”
That garnered Marcus’s attention. “I am. I’m too happy, so happy it scares me.”
“You’re not making any sense, baby.”
“I don’t want any secrets between us. Good relationships need a solid foundation. But—” He could practically feel Marcus’s inner conflict, see it twisting his handsome features.
“This have anything to do with the night I got hurt?”
Marcus frowned, clearly not expecting Tyler to know what he was thinking. But he knew. He’d hit the heart of the problem and was about to fix it. “I know all about it. If that’s what’s making you fret, just stop.”
He twisted onto one leg, his towel nearly unraveling from its knot. “What do you mean you know? How? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me!”
Tyler laughed and pulled Marcus against him. They rocked, looking out onto the land. Our land. “Two days after.”
“Two days!” He pulled back, nearly toppling off the swing. “I’ve been driving myself nuts with guilt for over a month.”
“I know what you were trying to do for me, and I love you even more for it. I didn’t want to spoil your gift.” And it was a gift. For someone to care about him enough to put his needs and feelings first was priceless. It was something he’d never experienced as a young man, not even sure such love existed outside of country songs.
“You’re okay with it? With knowing and me not telling you?” He looked like a puppy with his big brown eyes, eager for approval.
“All along, I was only worried about you. I’ve managed fine on my own for years, but knowing they could hurt you, even place one finger on you—that’s what made me crazy. You didn’t have to keep it from me. They can’t hurt me here”—he touched his head—“because you’ve overridden everything. You’ve taught me what love is, taught me that it’s okay to trust.”
“I’m sorry…” Marcus cupped his face.
“No, thank you.” They both leaned into each other, kissing, touching, showing each other physically what they felt emotionally. That invisible barrier that managed to slip between them, thickening with each passing week, dissolved with their confessions.
Chapter Fifteen
Marcus felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder, the perpetual gloom—gone. He’d become so obsessed that one day a cowboy who’d been in the town at the time of the murders would tell Tyler, making Marcus look like a lying rat. He didn’t want his boyfriend to hate him, especially when he did it out of love. Now that everything was in the open, he could just enjoy each day, relax and embrace their life together.
“Tell me though, sweet thing, does country life suit you? Do you miss the city?”
He didn’t. There was nothing for him in the world he left behind. He still talked with his family by phone, but they weren’t close enough to just show up whenever they wanted. Franco came up to visit a couple times, which was nice since he knew the truth. Living without hiding was liberating. The balance was perfect, and the country lifestyle grew on him to the point he couldn’t imagine returning to congested traffic, lineups, and pollution. Besides, if Tyler was happy, he was happy. Watching his cowboy teach the horses, take care of their property with pride—it was special and precious, moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.
“You’re not in the city, so no, I don’t miss it.”
“Do you realize we haven’t christened our ranch? It’s customary where I come from. You’ll bring us bad luck if you keep holding off.” Tyler’s eyes had changed from serious to playful. A hint of seduction lay behind those beautiful green irises.
“Oh, really? And what does this christening involve exactly?”
The cicadas droned off in the distance, a rustic lullaby for a lazy afternoon, but the ancient oaks near the house provided welcome shade to the front of the house. Tyler made sure to have a window air-conditioner installed in their upstairs bedroom so Marcus wouldn’t have trouble sleeping during the night when it was too hot and humid for his lungs. He’d already found that being out of the pollution of the city had helped his health tremendously.
Tyler urged him to stand in front on him with silent gestures. He complied, fitting between his open legs as he looked up at him from the bench swing. Then Tyler tugged the towel away, tossing it aside with disregard.
“Well, well, well. When did this happen?” Tyler alternated looking from Marcus’s eyes to his prominent hard-on, jutting out near his face.
“I’m always hard for you. You know that.”
“Damn, I love your cock. It’s fucking gorgeous.” Tyler painted a line along the hard ridges with a fingertip, a featherlight stroke when he needed so much more. He wanted the cowboy to squeeze him, play with his balls, anything to help squelch the heat burning in his veins.
Marcus sighed. He felt odd standing on his porch stark naked, the warm breeze gently tickling his body. Both of Tyler’s hands cupped his ass, pulling him forward into his hot, wet mouth. “Someone will see,” he muttered, bracing his arms against the brick wall behind the swing.
“Who’s gonna see what we’re doing way out here? The horses? Darlin’, this is our place, and we can do what we damn well please. Right now I want your dick in my mouth.” Tyler grabbed the root of his erection and suckled him. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, lips, mouth to dr
ive Marcus to the edge in record time. With both hands supporting his weight against the bricks, he watched Tyler’s mop of wavy brown hair bob back and forth, bringing him to that place where nothing mattered but sex and more sex.
“I’m gonna come down your throat, cowboy.”
Tyler pulled back, leaving him bobbing in the breeze. “The hell if you are.” He unzipped his Wranglers and released his own cock—hard, darkened by desire, and impossibly thick. A few days had passed since they’d made love. That increasing stress no longer existed.
“Can I sit on it?”
He growled. “No teasing.”
Marcus wasn’t playing. His ass felt achy and needy. He craved the wicked rush of pleasure he knew Tyler’s cock could bring him once he impaled his full length in his ass. He turned around and squatted over his lap. His cock was throbbing, so he began to stroke himself, unable to wait for Tyler to prep with his saliva.
“Okay, put it down on me, baby.”
He lowered down, and Tyler guided him. Even only a few days without sex left him impossibly tight, in need of a good stretching. He wiggled around Tyler’s thick, swollen head to loosen himself, anxious to feel the burn, the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. “Fill me up. All the way.”
Tyler eased him down, holding his hips in his big, rough hands. Once sitting heavily on his lap, his dick fully lodged inside him, he nearly came from the intensity of it all. He leaned back until he his head rested on Tyler’s shoulder. They kissed as his cowboy jerked him off. It was heaven. The multiple stimuli had him spiraling out of control. He needed to come, needed to release all the stress and pent-up energy he’d been holding on to.
“You take over for me. I need to fuck you now, baby boy.” One more kiss and he leaned forward, pumping his own shaft in time to Tyler’s rocking hips. They helped each other, Marcus rising and Tyler thrusting upwards.
“That feels so good. So good.” He drifted, needed it harder, rougher, dirtier. Tyler delivered as if sensing his wicked desires, pounding his ass like a machine. The rocking bench creaked and rattled, probably close to coming undone. “I’m gonna come, Tyler. Oh, God, I’m coming…” He rapidly worked his cock as his orgasm ripped through his body. Tyler’s animalistic groans behind him signaled he wasn’t far behind.
Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 11