Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  “I have to?”

  Caine licked the cleft in Macklin’s chin again. “Or I can seduce you into it if you’d prefer.”

  “Fuck,” Macklin groaned.

  “Not without condoms and lube,” Caine said, “but I’m sure we can think of something.” He slid a hand between them and cupped Macklin’s cock through his jeans.

  “I’m sure we can,” Macklin said, his voice gratifyingly hoarse. Caine kissed along his jaw, aiming for his ear again, as he squeezed lightly.

  Macklin caught his hand and pinned it to the bed as he rolled toward Caine, adjusting them until he lay fully on top of Caine. He captured Caine’s mouth, invading it with his tongue. Caine relaxed into the thin mattress, relishing the feeling of Macklin’s weight pressing down on him. Macklin’s broader shoulders and heavier frame dwarfed Caine, surrounding him with much welcome heat and adding to the desire that had spiked again when Macklin mentioned ideas. Even knowing they couldn’t have sex without condoms, the position screamed intimacy in a way lying side by side did not, and Caine yearned for that. Ever since Macklin had told him about Uncle Michael, Caine had been unable to dismiss the hope that history would repeat itself, and lying beneath Macklin this way seemed a perfect way to start. Keeping the blankets wrapped around them, he slid his arms around Macklin’s shoulders and then down his back so he could cup the other man’s ass and urge him to move. They might not be able to fuck, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make each other feel good.

  Macklin rutted against him, so Caine figured he could move his hands for other things. He worked open the buttons on Macklin’s shirt, burrowing beneath the heavy fabric to find a long undershirt underneath. He worked his way beneath that as well until he found skin. He explored Macklin’s treasure trail first, following it up rather than down, curious to see whether Macklin’s chest was smooth or hairy. He found a light mat of hair widening out from his ribs to his nipples on either side.

  “What are you doing?” Macklin asked, breaking the kiss.

  “Making you feel good, I hope,” Caine said, rubbing his thumb over one nipple. “Don’t tell me no one has ever touched you like this.” Macklin didn’t answer, but that was an answer in itself. “It’s too cold here, but when we get back to the main station, I’m going to spread you out on a bed and show you what you’ve been missing.”

  “I’ll hold you to that promise, pup,” Macklin rumbled, opening Caine’s shirt as well to find skin beneath. “No wonder you’re frozen! Where’s your long underwear?”

  “What long underwear?” Caine asked seriously. “If I didn’t buy it when we were in Boorowa, I don’t own it.”

  Macklin scowled. “We obviously need to make another trip. Until we do, I’ll lend you some of mine. They’ll be too big, but it’s better than freezing your bollocks off.” He slid a hand between them and cupped Caine’s groin. “I don’t want anything happening to them.”

  “N-n-neither d-d-do I,” Caine groaned, the surge of arousal tying his tongue. “D-d-do th-th-th—” He couldn’t concentrate enough to get the words out, but Macklin understood him anyway, massaging his balls through his clothes. Caine thrashed on the bed, wishing it was warm enough to get rid of the clothing and the covers so there was nothing but bare skin and the freedom to enjoy it. “F-f-fuck,” he managed to get out as his body clenched in preparation for release.

  Macklin’s lips closed over his, forestalling any further attempts at speech. Caine didn’t resist the kiss, diving into the connection with desperate need. His body thrummed with passion, but his heart ached for more than that. He could find release alone in his house; with Macklin, he wanted more. He wanted a lover.

  He teetered on the verge of release, his sac drawing up, his cock tenting his pants as he rocked against Macklin, but it wasn’t enough. He broke the kiss to breathe and try to beg for more, but before he could force the words out, Macklin stroked his cheek, the tenderness of the gesture giving him the final push he needed. With a wordless cry, he toppled into his climax. Macklin grunted against him, his hips stuttering and then stilling. He panted against Caine’s neck, his breath hot in the still cool room.

  When Caine could move again, he wrapped his arms around Macklin’s shoulders, keeping the other man close. Macklin hadn’t said so outright, but Caine suspected his previous sexual encounters had ended after he’d found release. Caine had no intention of letting that happen tonight. He’d use the excuse of staying warm if he had to, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He hoped Macklin would stay because he realized he could have more with Caine if he would just take Caine up on his offer.

  Macklin rolled to the side, but he pulled Caine with him, keeping their bodies close. “There’s no hot water in the drover’s huts, but if you let me up for a few minutes, I can warm up a cloth by the fire,” Macklin offered. “You might get a bit uncomfortable otherwise.”

  “In a m-minute,” Caine said, burying his nose against Macklin’s shoulder and simply holding on. “D-don’t want you to move yet.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, pup,” Macklin promised. “Even if I get up for a minute, I’ll come back and keep you warm tonight.”

  “It’s not t-tonight that worries me,” Caine said. “W-will you still b-be here t-tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night you’ll be snug and warm in your own bed.”

  And where will you be? Caine was tempted to ask, but he didn’t want to send Macklin running for the hills because Caine had gotten too clingy or demanding. “You’re welcome to join me there,” he said instead.

  “You did offer to show me what I’ve been missing,” Macklin said. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Let’s clean up a little so we can get some sleep.”

  Caine let him go, watching in the flickering light as he wet a rag from the sink with water from a bottle in the pantry. Caine shuddered a little at the thought of how cold that water would be, but Macklin brought the cloth back to the fire, holding it close to flames for several minutes. “It’s not warm exactly,” he said, coming back to bed, “but it’s not freezing anymore. Let me clean you up.”

  Caine nodded, his breath catching in his throat as Macklin undid his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers. The cloth was only lukewarm, sending a shiver through Caine when Macklin wiped it across sensitive skin, but the care in the touch outweighed the discomfort from the temperature as Macklin cleaned Caine as best he could. “I can’t do anything about your boxers, but that should be a little more comfortable.”

  Caine squirmed until he could kick off his pants and boxers, pulling his pants back on with no underwear. “Commando is better than sticky,” he agreed. “My turn.”

  “I’m fine,” Macklin said, backing away. “Turn over and go to sleep.”

  “I th-thought you s-s-said you were g-g-going to keep me warm.”

  “Don’t look at me that way, pup,” Macklin protested. “I’m just going to put more wood on the fire. I won’t be a minute.”

  That didn’t make the feeling of rejection any less, but Caine refused to let Macklin see him hurting any more than he already had. He rolled to his side so he faced away from the foreman and waited in silence as Macklin added wood to the fire. The telltale rustling of clothing was salt in Caine’s wounds. Macklin wasn’t “fine”; he just didn’t want Caine touching him.

  He almost resisted when Macklin crawled back beneath the covers and spooned behind him, but Macklin’s arms pulled him closer, and his lips nuzzled the nape of Caine’s neck. Relaxing a little, Caine rested his hands on Macklin’s arm.

  Macklin’s bare arm.

  Caine sucked in his breath, surprised at the feeling of bare skin. Tentatively he ran his fingers up Macklin’s arm, expecting to encounter cloth at his elbow or his bicep, but he reached as far as he could still touching skin. He started to turn in Macklin’s arms to keep exploring, but Macklin tightened his embrace. “Go to sleep, Caine. We have work to do in the morning.”

  Caine settled against Macklin, but he did reach behin
d him to rest his hand on the foreman’s thigh. He found cloth there, but the smooth silk of his long underwear rather than the heavy moleskin of his jeans. Smiling, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  CAINE WOKE slowly the next morning, vaguely aware of Macklin having gotten up during the night to put more wood on the fire and very aware of the arm still around his waist and the hard body—and hard cock—pressed along his back. He shivered in anticipation, hoping Macklin would be more willing to allow Caine’s attentions than he had been the night before.

  He turned slowly, trying not to disturb Macklin, but the green eyes opened immediately, dashing Caine’s hopes of waking Macklin up by making love to him. He watched confusion, awareness, and then unease flash across Macklin’s face. “We should get back to the station,” the foreman said immediately.

  “In a minute,” Caine replied, leaning in for a morning kiss.

  Macklin didn’t quite dodge the kiss, but he didn’t return it either, not like he had the night before. Instead he held himself rigidly still in Caine’s embrace, so obviously uncomfortable that Caine relented and let him go. He felt the sting of the rejection, but he reminded himself that Macklin had probably never had a morning after before and had no idea how to handle it. Caine could afford to back off a bit rather than send Macklin running for the hills. “Is there anything in the pantries we could have for breakfast?”

  Macklin stood and turned his back as he pulled on his trousers. Now Caine smiled for real, amusement taking the place of hurt. As if turning his back could keep Caine from knowing he’d woken up hard. “There might be some Vegemite and some bread or biscuits, but I don’t know how fresh they’d be.”

  Caine made a moue of distaste. He had learned to appreciate any number of things since coming to Australia, but Vegemite was not a taste he had acquired. “Maybe I’ll wait until we get back to the station.”

  Macklin chuckled, turning around as he buttoned his shirt, hiding the long underwear and glimpse of skin beneath. “And here I thought we were making an Aussie out of you.”

  “It’ll take more than a couple of months in the outback before Vegemite will be on my list of preferred food choices,” Caine said, “especially when the kitchen and Kami’s cooking are just an hour or two’s ride away.”

  “Speaking of Kami, we should get back,” Macklin said, looking pointedly at Caine where he still lay snuggled beneath the blankets.

  Caine stood, shivering when his sock-clad feet hit the cold floor. He reached for Macklin again, ignoring the look of discomfort that crossed the other man’s face. Macklin was going to have to learn how to deal with intimacy outside of bed, and Caine figured the best way to do that was to give him no other choice. “After we say a proper good morning.”

  “Caine.”

  “What?” Caine asked. “You certainly liked kissing me last night. What’s wrong with kissing me this morning?”

  “Last night was….”

  “Exactly,” Caine said when Macklin didn’t finish his sentence. “Last night was. Stop trying to pretend it didn’t happen or that you didn’t enjoy it as much as I did. I’m not asking you to marry me, Macklin. I just want a good morning kiss.”

  The panic on Macklin’s face might have been funny if Caine hadn’t been hoping for the opposite reaction. He sighed. “Why is this so difficult?” he asked gently.

  “We don’t have time to discuss this,” Macklin replied. “We need to get back to the station.”

  “Why?” Caine asked. “Not why at all, but why the rush? What’s so important that you can’t answer my question first?”

  “Why is it so important that we discuss it now?” Macklin countered.

  “Because we’re here now and you’re acting strangely now and if you d-don’t give me an explanation now, maybe you never will.”

  “Maybe it’s better that way,” Macklin muttered.

  “Macklin, stop avoiding the issue.”

  Macklin sighed and pulled away, pacing the small hut restlessly. “Because I’ve never done this before, right? I’ve fucked, but that’s it. I don’t know what you want from me, and that makes me antsy as a sheep surrounded by dingoes.”

  He ran his hands through his messy hair as he spoke, turning to glare at Caine as if the entire situation was his fault. The admission, however awkward, softened Caine’s frustration. He crossed to Macklin again. “What I want right now is a simple good morning kiss,” he said again. “What I want more generally is up to us to decide. That’s the beauty of a relationship. It’s not what I want. It’s what we want.”

  “And if you could have whatever you wanted?” Macklin asked slowly.

  “What Uncle Michael had with Donald,” Caine replied immediately. “But they didn’t build that relationship in a day or a month. Relationships take time and work. They take fighting and negotiating and sometimes even stepping back a bit. And sometimes they don’t work, and then you just have to accept that and move on.”

  “That’s what worries me,” Macklin admitted. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll be the one who has to move on.”

  “If it doesn’t work, I’ll leave,” Caine offered. “You don’t need me to run the station. I can g-g-go back home. This is your home. Even if we d-didn’t make it, you wouldn’t do anything to damage the station or its reputation.”

  “You’re making it awfully hard to resist, pup.”

  Caine smiled. “Then don’t,” he said, lifting his head for a kiss. This time, Macklin gave it to him. It was as deep and demanding as the kisses from the night before, but Caine didn’t mind, not when Macklin was finally kissing him. He relaxed into the embrace that accompanied the meeting of lips, wrapping his fingers in the ends of Macklin’s hair.

  The caress seemed to be the reminder Macklin needed that not every kiss had to be hard and fast. His lips gentled on Caine’s, the tenderness from the end of their encounter the night before coming to the fore. Caine sighed happily into the kiss, sure he could kiss Macklin like that all day and never get enough.

  The radio squawked to life on the table behind them, startling both men, but when Macklin would have pulled away, Caine drew his head back down for one more, swift kiss before letting him go.

  “N-now you c-can answer them.” He didn’t even mind the stutter. He wanted Macklin to know how their kisses affected him. Maybe it would help convince the other man of the depth of his investment.

  Caine busied himself putting his boots and coat back on as he waited for Macklin to finish checking in with the main station, assuring them he and Caine had weathered the night and were on their way back. He gave orders to continue separating the mob for breeding.

  “But I don’t know which ewes to put with which rams,” Ian said.

  “As long as you don’t put them with their sires, it’ll be fine,” Macklin said. “I’ll adjust my plans when I get back and see what you’ve done.”

  “So I guess this means we should head home,” Caine said when Macklin set the radio back down on the table.

  “In a minute,” Macklin said. “After I get a kiss to keep me warm for the ride back.”

  Caine was sure he’d never moved so fast in his life as he did getting to Macklin’s side now, his joy at Macklin’s comment warring with the thrill of the foreman’s mouth against his, gentle as before but with just a hint of teeth to give the promise of more to come. When Macklin lifted his head and smiled down at Caine, Caine’s happiness was complete.

  Thirteen

  A WEEK later, Caine was ready to throttle Macklin again. While the foreman invited him in for a beer every evening and kissed him readily whenever they were in private, he had not invited Caine beyond the living room and kitchen of his house, and any time Caine hinted at more, he drew back, closing himself off or finding an excuse to end their evening together. Caine had tried reminding himself that Macklin was new at relationships and that he needed time to adjust to the idea, but Caine was getting tired of waiting.

  “Aussie men are too stubborn for their own good,�
�� Caine muttered as he walked into the canteen. They had separated the last of the ewes into their breeding pens that afternoon. They would put the rams in with the ewes in the morning, and then the summer workers would head back to Boorowa or Cowra, leaving only the full-time residents at the station for the winter.

  Kami had made a special send-off dinner, and everyone had gathered in the canteen, even those who usually ate in their own homes. Caine appreciated the festive atmosphere and the desire of the station hands to send everyone off in style, but as dinner turned into drinking and everyone sitting around chatting, he despaired of getting a chance to talk to Macklin alone. He wanted to know what was going on in the other man’s head, but barring that, he needed his good-night kiss, and he wasn’t going to get it in a canteen full of jackaroos. Everyone needed to realize it was late and go back to the bunkhouse or their homes so he and Macklin could go sit in Macklin’s living room again.

  Finally, as it neared midnight, people began to drift off. Caine stayed as close to Macklin as he dared, shaking the hands of the jackaroos who would be leaving in the morning and thanking them for their hard work on the station. It felt a little odd, but he was the closest thing to the owner of Lang Downs at the moment, and he wanted to reinforce that with the ones who were staying as much as with the ones who were leaving. When the last people had left, Caine turned to Macklin with a smile. “I was starting to worry we wouldn’t have time for our beer.”

  “You mean you didn’t have enough beer tonight, pup?” Macklin teased.

  Caine’s smile broadened. “I wouldn’t say no to one more.”

  “Come on then, pup,” Macklin said with a shake of his head.