by Andrew Grey
He threw the truck in gear and tore out of the parking lot and onto the access road before getting on the freeway and heading toward the north end of Houston. There was no way he was going to waste all this energy. What he wanted, no, needed, was a hard, down-and-dirty fuck. And he knew just where to get it.
Chapter 2
“COME on, Jacky,” Ryan Abbott said with more impatience than he intended. “They’re done signing autographs.”
“Okay,” Jacky, Ryan’s best friend and the world’s biggest rodeo fan, agreed after taking a final look around the nearly empty arena. “I was hoping Maddox would come out and sign.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “I think we can safely leave now, and I want to remind you that since I came with you to the rodeo, you promised we could go out for a while.” He liked rodeo well enough, and it was fun to see all the guys doing what they did. He could admit there was something unbelievably and indescribably sexy about them. But he’d had enough bull-riding for one day, and now he was hoping for some fun and food—definitely food.
“I know,” Jacky said after looking around one last time. “I remember what I said, and I know you have to be starving about now. It’s been”—Jacky checked his watch—“two hours since you ate those two hotdogs.” Jacky raised his eyebrows.
“It’s been almost three hours,” Ryan corrected with a grin. His need to eat every few hours had been a source of jealousy for Jacky for as long as they had been friends. Ryan could eat anything he wanted, but Jacky had to watch every bite of food.
“Let’s go before you waste away to nothing,” Jacky said, leading the way out of the arena to the truck. Jacky unlocked the doors, and they stood outside for a few seconds, letting the heat wash out. Then Jacky got in and started the engine. Ryan got in as well, and they pulled out of the lot, almost getting hit by a dually truck tearing out ahead of them. Jacky slammed on the brakes and Ryan flew forward, the seat belt catching him. “Asshole!” Jacky cried. “You had the whole damned parking lot.” Jacky flipped the bird as the other vehicle sped past without even slowing. “Did you see that guy?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, getting his heart back where it belonged as Jacky got the truck moving again. “Where are you taking me?” He knew he had to change the subject or Jacky would rant about the guy in the truck until they got where they were going.
“A bar just outside town—they have great food and music,” Jacky said, turning on the radio so country music could fill the cab.
“Let me guess: there’s more than food at this place.”
“It’s where the bull riders hang out,” Jacky said.
Ryan had, of course, already figured they were going to a place like that. Where else would Jacky take him than a rodeo bar? The man lived, ate, and breathed cowboys. For as long as Ryan had known him, Jacky had almost exclusively worn western shirts, cowboy hats, and boots, and on more than one occasion, chaps, although Ryan was pretty sure that when Jacky wore those, there wasn’t much, if anything, on beneath them.
“It’ll be fun, and who knows, you may catch the eye of one of those guys.”
Ryan nearly snorted, but kept his protests to himself. He was hardly the kind of guy they were going to go for, even if they were gay. And if they were, he wasn’t about to be the plaything of some guy so deeply in the closet he only came out when his dick was about to explode and his balls turned blue.
“Come on. You’re gorgeous and you know it,” Jacky said. “I’d give anything to be tall, have your perma-tan, and that long, black hair. God.” Jacky shook his head. “You turn heads everywhere you go and you have no idea you’re doing it.”
“Yeah, but guys talk to you,” Ryan protested.
“Only because I talk to them first, and if I didn’t, not one of them would look at me. You, however, are the first person anyone notices when they enter a room. Don’t take my word for it, just watch at the bar. Men and women will notice you.”
“But no one ever talks to me,” Ryan said.
“It’s the beauty curse. Everyone thinks you’re already attached or they’re not up to your standards, so they stay away.” Jacky exited the freeway. “So tonight, talk to someone who seems interested and see what happens. I bet you’ll find you’re the belle of the ball.”
“Or get my ass kicked by some homophobic prick,” Ryan countered. He’d never been good at picking people out of a mixed crowd. Jacky, on the other hand, had gaydar off the charts, and he could pick out another gay man at a hundred yards.
“Don’t worry, I won’t steer you wrong,” Jacky promised as they pulled into the parking lot of an old bar with definite rustic charm. The whole place looked like something out of an old movie. The place hadn’t been updated in quite a while, and Ryan instantly saw the charm in the old, scarred wood that covered the walls. Country music played throughout the building. Toward the back was a dance floor, and behind that a pair of pool tables.
“This is great,” Ryan said as he turned toward Jacky. They found a table, and Jacky hurried off to get beer while Ryan listened to the music, his body swaying almost without him knowing. Jacky returned and set the glasses down before sliding into the opposite chair. “The only sad thing,” Ryan began as he reached for his beer, “is that we can’t dance here.”
“I know,” Jacky said as he lifted his mug. They clinked them together, and Jacky looked around the room. “You could dance with a girl, you know.” Jacky looked serious for about two seconds, and then Ryan shivered and Jacky snickered. The last time Ryan had danced with a girl, she kept pressing her bosoms against him and she wore way too much perfume. He swore he smelled like flowers for three days. “See, I told you,” Jacky said, looking toward the back of the bar.
“Told me what?” Ryan asked, looking around and following Jack’s gaze.
“You’re the center of attention.” Jacky inclined his head toward a small, slight man playing pool at one of the tables. “He keeps looking over here at you between shots. And the girl with the man in the corner, she keeps glancing over here too.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ryan said, but he glanced toward the pool table and saw the man looking at him. Their eyes met for a few seconds, and then the other man looked away and went back to his shot. “He could have been looking at anyone over here, even you.” Ryan couldn’t help teasing, and when Jacky’s mouth fell open, Ryan laughed and then jumped when Jacky kicked him under the table.
Ryan drank his beer as the bar continued to fill with people, most of them in western wear.
“See the guy talking to the girl with the big boobs at the bar?” Jacky asked, and Ryan nodded. “He’s a bull rider. I think I’ve seen him a couple times at some of the rodeos.” Jacky squinted and could barely sit still, but Ryan wasn’t paying much attention. The man in the back was definitely watching him. “Go on. Walk back there and ask him if he’d like to shoot a game with you. Break the ice and see what happens.”
“Come on. He’s just watching,” Ryan said before taking a gulp from his glass. Then he took another and emptied it. Jacky signaled a waitress, and she brought him another. Ryan downed half of that beer before getting up the nerve to stand up and make his way back. He skirted the dance floor and was almost at the pool table when another guy approached the man and they began to talk. Ryan wasn’t sure what he should do and he didn’t want to be too obvious in a place like this, so he went over to the other table, placing money in the slot for a game. Ryan caught Jacky’s eye, but Jacky was pointedly ignoring him, so Ryan racked the balls and wondered what the hell he should do next. He’d look stupid playing by himself.
“Are you all alone?” a rich voice asked, and Ryan jumped slightly before turning around. The man who’d been watching him looked back at him. He had to be nearly a foot shorter than Ryan, and thin, but with corded muscles on his arms.
“Yeah,” Ryan answered after he swallowed. “Would you like to play?”
The man moved the tiniest bit closer. “I certainly would.” His cologne, surprisingly sub
tle, mixed with the man’s natural scent, reaching Ryan’s nose, and he had to stop himself from inhaling deeply to get more of it. “I love to play.” He smiled devilishly before adding in a rather low voice, “Pool.”
Ryan finished racking the balls and pulled away the frame, his hand shaking slightly for a second, but he forced it still again. “You can break if you like,” Ryan offered, and the other man simply stared at him.
“I may bend, but I rarely break,” he said with a wink that had Ryan’s heart pounding in his chest. He glanced over at Jacky, who was talking to a tall man in full cowboy regalia. Jacky glanced over and nodded slightly before smiling and turning back to his companion. This hardly seemed like the kind of place where guys went to meet other guys, but maybe it was. Or maybe they were both damned lucky. “I’m Dante,” the man added before reaching for a cue. Ryan noticed that Dante hadn’t taken his eyes off him for a second, which was just fine.
“Ryan,” he said, getting his own cue. Ryan extended his hand, and Dante shook it, his rough hand firm and strong. “Go ahead—let’s see just how bendy you can get without breaking.” Two could play this game, and Ryan saw Dante pause, then lift an eyebrow suggestively. Ryan met the steely, electrically charged gaze with one of his own. He might have been unsure of himself in some social situations, but when it came to men he knew were interested, Ryan more than held his own. He nodded toward the rack of balls, and Dante slowly began to move around to the side.
Ryan kept his eye on the other man, studying him. “So what do you do?” Ryan asked, watching Dante walk.
“I ride bulls,” Dante answered briskly, and a light went on in Ryan’s mind. He’d just seen this man ride and come in second by a hairbreadth. Dante had leaned over the table and now he straightened up again, his gaze filled with challenge.
“So do I,” Ryan said, and Dante paused, the pool cue between his fingers.
“You’re way too big,” Dante said.
“How do you know how big I am?” Ryan retorted, and Dante took his shot, nearly falling forward on the table. The balls skittered across the surface with no force and none dropped. “Go ahead and rack them up again. That wasn’t sporting.” Dante didn’t move, and Ryan saw him swallow hard. Ryan grabbed the frame out of its holder and reracked the balls, letting Dante take a proper shot. A ball fell in the far corner pocket, and Dante continued playing.
“I meant you’re too tall and broad,” Dante said.
“I didn’t say I rode the same kind of bulls you do. I’m a stockbroker,” Ryan clarified. He loved that he’d been able to fluster a man who sat on top of a ton and a half of mean, bucking, spinning death. Dante missed his next shot, and Ryan looked over the setup. He found his shot and lined it up, tapping the cue with just the right amount of speed. The striped ball fell in the side pocket, and the cue ball stopped just where Ryan wanted it to.
“Are you a hustler?” Dante asked. “Because you won’t—”
Ryan smiled and put his hand up. “When I was in college, there was a pool table in the dorm. I played whenever I needed to release steam.” Ryan was having a good time, and the flirting was harmless enough. In fact, it made him feel damned good. “Now I do other things.” Ryan moved to Dante’s side of the table and leaned forward, giving him a good view before taking his turn. Ryan swore he heard a soft gasp, but he ignored it and made his shot.
They continued their banter, and more than once Ryan had had to adjust things when he had the table between him and Dante. He nearly ran the table, but missed a shot for his last ball, which gave Dante a chance.
“How are you doing?” Jacky asked, coming up beside Ryan to watch Dante shoot. “Do you know who that is?” Jacky asked in a whisper of near complete awe. “Damn, if I would have seen him better, I’d have come over myself.” Jacky smiled and then looked over at the table, where the cowboy Jacky had been talking to smiled back at him. “That’s Randal, and he wants to take me back to his place. Do you think you can find a ride home?”
Ryan glanced at Dante, who took his shot and missed. Sure, they’d flirted and stuff, and the bull rider was definitely his type in so many ways. “Jacky….”
“Come on, live a little. The monk routine is wearing a little thin,” Jacky whispered and then walked around the table to where Dante had just straightened up.
“I’m Jacky, your biggest fan.” Jacky shook Dante’s hand. “I was wondering if you’d be nice enough to make sure my friend gets back to his hotel tonight in one piece.” Ryan was about two seconds from either smiling or slapping Jacky silly; he really wasn’t sure which. The man would say just about anything to anyone.
Dante slowly lifted the gaze beneath his hat, tilting it upward slightly. “I think I can do that,” Dante said, his eyes darkening with undisguised lust. The intensity seemed almost overwhelming, but Ryan held his ground and met that gaze with one of his own.
“Be sure to get his autograph,” Jacky whispered so only Ryan could hear.
Ryan glanced at Jacky for a second. “On what, my ass?” Ryan whispered back, and Jacky grinned and mimed looking for a pen. Ryan turned his attention back to Dante’s intense gaze.
Jacky backed away, and Ryan barely registered that he was gone. “It’s your shot,” Dante said without moving or breaking eye contact.
“Hey, guys, are you going to be long?” a big-boobed blonde asked as her boyfriend approached from behind her.
“No,” Ryan answered and leaned over the table, running the last of the balls to win the game. “I think we’re done here; it’s all yours.” Ryan’s heart pounded in his chest, but on the outside, he kept himself cool and collected. With a guy like Dante, he couldn’t show any weakness. He put his cue back in the wall rack and led the way around the edge of the dance floor to an empty table. “Do you want anything?”
Dante stood beside the other chair. “No. I think I already have what I came for.”
“You do?” Ryan asked and then nodded slowly. “Then I think we’d better make sure, hadn’t we?” Ryan lifted his eyebrows, admiring Dante’s jeans-encased tight cowboy ass.
Outside, Dante led him to a blue dually truck.
“Question: Do you always drive like a maniac, or only in arena parking lots?” Ryan pulled open the passenger door but didn’t get inside, waiting for Dante to answer.
“I was… distracted,” Dante said. “Look, if you don’t want a ride, that’s fine,” he added in a huff.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I was just checking. You nearly hit us.”
Dante climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. “How do you know what I wear?”
“I don’t…,” Ryan said, “yet.” Dante shuddered slightly. Ryan clearly saw it, along with the small bounce in his leg. “Don’t worry, cowboy,” Ryan said. Figuring it was now or never, he reached across the seat and lightly placed his hand on Dante’s leg. “You’ll get just what you need.” The jitters in Dante’s leg settled down and he glanced at Ryan a bit nervously, but Ryan simply nodded, showing nothing but confidence. Ryan waited until Dante started the engine before slipping his hand away and then telling him the name of the hotel.
They drove back toward the city until they reached Ryan’s hotel. “Fancy,” Dante said as he pulled into the garage and parked.
“It’s just a hotel,” Ryan said, not really noticing anything around him but Dante. He led the bull rider through the lobby to the elevators, and they rode to one of the upper floors. When the elevator doors opened, Ryan led Dante down the hall and then slid his keycard into the door lock.
“Nice,” Dante said, looking around the comfortable hotel room.
“It’s comfortable enough,” Ryan said. There was a cleanly upholstered reclining chair, flat-screen television, and new furniture. The bed was a king with sumptuous linens.
“Do you mind if I shower?” Dante asked, and Ryan motioned toward the bathroom.
“Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” Ryan said, meeting Dante’s eyes until he tu
rned and entered the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Ryan released his breath, wondering what he was doing. How many times had he told himself he wouldn’t do this anymore? He’d lost count, but it had to be nearly a million, and here he was right back where he’d said he wasn’t going to go. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. He could see what Dante needed and he could give it to him. Dante needed it, he needed it too, and heaven help him, Ryan wanted it. He’d denied this part of himself for so long he simply couldn’t do it any longer. The water in the bathroom began to run, and Ryan opened his kit and got out the supplies before sitting on the bed to wait.
One thing Ryan had was patience, at least when it came to things like this. He heard the water shut off and then waited a little longer. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be nervous. Excited, yes, but not nervous. The bathroom door opened, and Dante walked into the room wearing a towel. “Jesus,” Ryan said softly as he allowed his gaze to travel slowly up Dante’s body. “What the hell happened to you?” Ryan narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you into?” There were huge bruises on Dante’s ribs and smaller ones on his thighs. One shoulder was obviously swollen; the man had to be in pain.
Dante looked down at himself. “Those are just from work. I get them all the time.”
Ryan looked at Dante very skeptically, but it made sense. Riding bulls had to be a prescription for injuries like that. He stood up and took Dante by the hand and guided him to the bed. Dante sat, and for a second Ryan thought he was going to collapse. “Lie back,” Ryan said, and Dante did as he was told. Ryan lightly stroked up each of Dante’s legs.
“What are you…?” Dante asked, lifting his head.
Ryan moved between Dante’s legs, leaning over him. “I promised I’d give you what you need, and I will,” Ryan said, gazing deep into Dante’s eyes. “Hasn’t anyone seen what’s inside you before? What you really need?” God, Dante practically screamed to Ryan loud and clear, and his eyes begged for it even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud.