by Andrew Grey
Ryan swallowed, and a dull ache began in the back of his head. He knew this headache had nothing to do with his injury, though. This was tension, coupled with a touch of regret. “I never thought that,” Ryan said as he shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable, but it wasn’t working.
“Then what was it?” Dante demanded.
Ryan looked toward the door, anywhere except at Dante. “You were taking care of me all the time, and I guess I was feeling helpless.” Ryan slowly turned his head so he could see Dante. “I don’t want you seeing me like this, and feeling like you have to be here because I couldn’t even eat or go to the bathroom on my own.”
“Sometimes you’re a plumb fool,” Dante said.
“Gee, thanks,” Ryan countered.
“You want me to talk to you about how I feel, but you can’t even do the same thing,” Dante said.
“I know,” Ryan admitted. “Hy was up here today and he gave me quite the talking to.”
“So this is where he disappeared to. The old cuss said he and a friend were going into town. I should have known he was up to something,” Dante said. “So what did he have to say?”
Ryan waited until Dante turned his way and their gazes met. “He said that sometimes people tell you how they feel by what they do for you.” Ryan waited.
Dante nodded slowly and picked up his hat, twisting the brim nervously. “When you were in surgery, we didn’t know if you were going to make it. They said your skull had been cracked and that pressure was building on your brain, and then I sat in that waiting room for hours hoping that because they didn’t tell us anything you were still alive.” Dante swallowed hard, and Ryan felt a lump forming in his own throat. “Then they brought you up to the room and you looked so small, almost broken, and I knew all of this was because of me. You wouldn’t have been hurt if it weren’t for me. Those men who attacked you only did so because you were with me. The police said that they were waiting for me and attacked you because they waited behind your car. Your being hurt was an accident, and then afterwards you were in the hospital bed and I realized I’d never told you how I felt.” Dante’s hat dropped to the floor, and he took Ryan’s hand.
“It’s okay. I know how you feel now. Hy helped me figure it out,” Ryan said.
“Maybe, but that’s not good enough. You almost died, and all you asked was for me to say how I felt. We don’t talk about our feelings much, and I guess Gramps has been busy, because he read me the riot act this morning before he left… and I thought the women back home were busybodies.”
“Dante….”
“No. I need to do this. I was here all that time, taking care of you and making sure you were as comfortable as possible, because I love you. I don’t know when I first realized it, but I think it became really clear when I realized you spent the entire evening on the phone the night of the signing, calling everyone you knew to get them to come down and show their support.”
“How?”
“Jacky spilled the beans, but he didn’t mean to,” Dante said, squeezing Ryan’s hand a little tighter.
“The man never could keep his mouth shut,” Ryan said with mock frustration.
“It doesn’t matter. I know how much you would rather I not ride bulls any longer, and you had the chance to see that happen. If I lost my sponsor, I wouldn’t be able to join the circuit next year and you’d get what you wanted.” Ryan opened his mouth, but Dante shook his head to keep him quiet. “But you got on the phone and called everyone you knew, and they all came down, bought hats, got autographs, and filled the place. Dunbar’s renewed their sponsorship for another year, and Harvey even got them to throw in the money for a few promotional stops at gay rodeos. How he did that I’ll never know, but Harvey is one devious bastard sometimes.”
Ryan tugged Dante closer, touching his rough, unshaven cheek. “I love you too, and I wanted you to be happy. I know that means you being able to ride bulls. It scares the shit out of me, but it also makes you happy, and that’s what I want.”
“I know.” Dante moved the chair closer to the bed and then leaned closer, resting his head on the pillow against Ryan’s. “Maybe there’s something to this talking about your feelings thing.”
“Hey,” Ryan whispered. “And sometimes talk is overrated.” Ryan slowly caressed Dante’s cheek. “I first realized how much I loved you when you went out of your way to make sure the kids got their autographs at the store and after the rodeo. You have a good heart, Dante, and I’m just so damned lucky.”
“But you didn’t even know me then,” Dante said.
“I know. It’s your heart I fell in love with. The way you looked out for those kids, the way you care for Gramps, and now me. You shouldn’t have had to say how you feel, because you show it all the time. I just needed to be able to see it.” Ryan stroked Dante’s hand over his cheek and felt him jump slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re like sandpaper,” Dante told him, and Ryan let go of his hand. “But I think we can take care of that.” Dante stood up and, without saying anything, left the room. Ryan watched him go and wondered just what he was up to. A few minutes later, Dante returned with a basin. “I asked the nurse for some stuff,” he said, setting a razor and shaving cream on the tray.
“Is she coming in soon to shave me?” Ryan asked.
“Nope,” Dante said from the bathroom, and then Ryan heard water running. Dante returned and set the basin and a towel on the tray before closing the room door. “I’m going to shave you.”
“You are?” Ryan wasn’t so sure what he thought about that, but he moved over on the bed as Dante took a seat on the edge.
“Oh, yes,” Dante told him in almost a purr that vibrated through him, and Ryan leaned back. Dante carefully put the towel around Ryan’s neck, and Ryan stretched out to give Dante access. There was a soft sppurrt of shaving cream. Ryan jumped slightly at the cold foam, but it warmed quickly as Dante smoothed it over his face. “See, that’s it. Now close your eyes.”
Ryan did, and Dante smoothed the foam down his neck. His touch was so gentle, Ryan barely felt it, and yet he knew it was Dante touching him. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him other than to poke him with needles, thermometers, and God knew what else.
“That’s it,” Dante whispered, and then water swished. “I’m going to start on your cheek, so hold still.” Ryan didn’t jump at the first touch of the razor, and Dante slowly swiped down his cheek. Ryan kept his eyes closed, soaking in Dante’s care and concern.
Ryan heard the water swish and then the razor swiped over his skin once again, cutting away the scruff and making him feel clean again. The touch of the razor was light and soft, but whenever Dante’s fingers brushed over his cheek or stroked where the razor had been, Ryan’s body reacted. He knew that wasn’t a good idea, and taking care of his sudden need was out of the question, but the combination of shaving cream mixed with Dante’s heady musk made his head spin in the best way humanly possible. “It’s good,” Ryan moaned softly.
“I can tell,” Dante said, rinsing off the razor. Ryan jumped a little when Dante rested his hand over his dick, which jumped and throbbed under the pressure. “It was more than a little obvious.”
Ryan opened his eyes and found Dante staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m ugly.”
“No, you’re not, and you never will be. Your hair is growing back, and no one but me will ever know or see where your scar is.” Dante closed his hand and slowly stroked him through the blankets. “Is this what you really need?”
“Dante,” Ryan whined softly. “We can’t do that here.” He might have said the words, but Ryan very much wanted to do whatever Dante had in mind. His body and spirit seemed like they’d awakened from hibernation. Dante stroked and squeezed him, moving the fabric up and down his dick. Ryan’s toes began to tingle and flick back and forth as the need grew. It had been so long. Then Dante’s hand moved away, and Ryan groaned.
“Close your eyes,” Dante told him, a
nd Ryan obeyed. The irony of their reversed roles was not lost on him. The water swished in the basin, and then the razor stroked lightly down his neck. “Think about it. I’m touching you now,” Dante said, his words as rich as melted butter. “Can you feel it?” Dante slowly ran the razor down Ryan’s other cheek. “Your skin is so beautiful, and with this fuzz gone, it glows. You glow.”
“Uh-huh,” Ryan said, his dick throbbing each time Dante touched him.
“Good,” Dante whispered. “Put your head back and keep your eyes closed.” Dante ran the razor down his neck, and once he pulled it away, Ryan shivered as Dante blew on his sensitive skin. “This is what you want to me to do to your cock, isn’t it?” Dante asked, his lips right near Ryan’s ear. “You want me to touch you like this, then suck you deep before blowing on your wet skin and making you shiver and shake.” Dante touched Ryan’s upper lip, and he held stock-still. “That’s it, you’re so perfect.” The razor whisked over his skin, and it took all Ryan’s control not to vibrate and throb as his dick did both. “I know what you want, and as soon as I’m done here, I’ll take good care of you.” Dante continued shaving him, and Ryan kept his eyes closed even as the excitement grew with each stroke of the razor.
“Dante,” Ryan said softly when he knew Dante had to be about finished. His dick was about ready to explode, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to shave again without getting a raging hard-on.
“I’m almost done,” Dante told him, and Ryan felt the razor make a last line down his throat. Then the water swished. “Keep your eyes closed.” Ryan moaned from deep in his throat. “You have to be quiet,” Dante said, and then pressure surrounded his dick. Ryan gasped softly, and like a sex-starved teenager, he nearly came from that touch alone.
A soft knock sounded on the door, and Dante moved his hand away, reached for the towel, and smoothed away the last of the shaving cream. “There you go, all clean,” Dante said as the nurse came in.
Ryan swallowed the groan of frustration as the nurse walked to his bed. “You look a lot better. How do you feel?” she asked as she picked up the basin.
“Good,” Ryan said. “A little tired.” He wanted to add, “Horny as hell,” but that wasn’t appropriate even if it was true. “I need to use the bathroom,” Ryan added. Dante got off the bed, and Ryan slowly began to get up.
“Do you need help?” the nurse asked, and Ryan looked at Dante.
“I’ll take care of him, ma’am,” Dante said. The nurse looked at each of them and then rolled her eyes before shaking her head.
“The bigger the man, the more they act like babies when it comes to going to the bathroom,” she tutted before leaving the room.
Ryan got back on his feet and shuffled into the bathroom. If nothing else, he figured he could take care of what Dante had started, but he’d just shut the door when it opened again and Dante stepped inside. “I believe you needed some help.” Dante stepped right behind him and pressed his body to Ryan’s back, heat surging through his gown. “I really didn’t mean for things to end that way.” Dante swept a hand around Ryan’s leg and then under his gown. “That’s it, lean against me. Close your eyes and let me take care of you.”
“Dante,” Ryan moaned softly as his cock was gripped and then stroked.
“You have to promise to say if it’s too much.”
“Can’t be,” Ryan whispered as his balls drew close to his body. “Love you,” Ryan whimpered. He was already so close he could barely stand it, and within seconds he came, mouth open, eyes clamped shut, with Dante holding him up on his feet.
The spasms of orgasm vibrated through his entire body and into his head. By the time he was done, Ryan could hardly breathe and his head ached, but he didn’t care in the least. “Let’s get you back to bed,” Dante whispered, lightly kissing his ear. Then Dante helped him back to bed and covered him up. Ryan sighed and his eyes closed on their own as he fell asleep—happy.
Chapter 11
“IT’S okay, just be careful,” Dante said as he helped Ryan up the stairs to the front porch.
“I just got out of the hospital, but my legs do work,” Ryan said.
“I guess I’m happy you’re better and don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” Dante said.
“Yes, Mother,” Ryan quipped, and Dante loosened his grip. “I can climb three steps on my own.” Ryan had spent another week in the hospital. His headaches had dissipated, but he still got them from time to time. He’d told Dante that the doctors had said that they should lessen over time, but might not ever fully go away.
“You made it,” Gramps said as he opened the door and held it until Ryan was inside the house. “I’m glad you let Dante talk you into staying here for a few days.” Ryan was scheduled to go back to work starting next week, but only for half days for a while. Gramps settled back in his chair, and Dante helped Ryan to the sofa.
“I’ll bring in your stuff from the truck,” Dante said and walked outside. The heat surrounded him, but it was home, and Ryan was here with him. He grabbed Ryan’s cases from the back and carried them into the house and down the hall to the room Ryan would be using. When he returned to the living room, he found Gramps in his chair with his eyes closed and Ryan on the sofa with a pillow under his head, eyes closed as well. He didn’t want to disturb either of them, so he headed outside to the bucking machine.
Dante turned on the light in the outbuilding and looked around the room to make sure everything was in order before pulling on his chaps and gloves. Then he set the machine and climbed on before hitting the power. The mechanical bull bucked and twirled. Eventually, Dante was thrown, and the automatic shutoff kicked in. Without hesitation, Dante got back on and tried again, over and over. He’d come so close to losing Ryan a few weeks earlier and it had scared the crap out of him—it still did—but in a very different way, and he really didn’t know if he was prepared to handle it. The bull threw him again, and Dante got back on once more.
“Who’s winning?” Dante heard Ryan ask after he was thrown for what seemed like the dozenth time.
“The machine,” Dante answered as he climbed back on. He started the machine, and within seconds he found himself on his back on the padding again.
“You aren’t concentrating,” Ryan said, slowly walking over to Dante, who was already getting back on the machine. “Something’s bothering you.” Ryan picked up the controls.
“You could ride it at this level,” Dante said as the machine bucked in what seemed to him to be slow motion. “Come in, turn it up!” Dante called, and the bucking machine began to whip first in one direction and then the other. Dante whooped and hollered as he moved with the machine. He was showing off a bit for Ryan and he knew it. The mechanical bull twisted and bucked at the same time, and Dante could feel his balance shift. He tried to compensate, but the machine twisted the other way and Dante was thrown. He landed on the padding, then rolled until he came to a stop.
Ryan walked to where Dante lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Over the years Dante had practically memorized the pattern in the beams overhead from the number of times he’d ended up on his back like this. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you? Because I thought we’d come to some sort of understanding in the hospital that we needed to talk to one another.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” Dante said.
Ryan knelt next to him and straddled his body. “I don’t think you’re in any position to argue, now are you?” Ryan said, and he slowly leaned forward. “So tell me what’s got you all riled up.” Ryan bent down farther, his face close enough to Dante’s that he could feel Ryan’s breath on his skin, Ryan’s scent filling his nose. “What is it, Dante?” Ryan whispered.
“I almost lost you,” Dante said. “And it scares the crap out of me, okay? What if something like that happens again? What if I can’t get along without you?”
Ryan actually chuckled. “You’re all riled up because of the way you feel about me?” Ryan asked, and Dante turned his head. “Did it eve
r occur to you that I feel the same way? That I shake in my shoes at the thought of you getting back in the arena to ride a bull, because it scares me to death? There’s no padding in there, and that damned bull doesn’t shut off when you fall off, the damned sons of bitches. Those bulls don’t care about you the way I do, and they certainly don’t care if you’re hurt. But I’ll deal with it because I want you to be happy, and I know the only way that’s going to happen is if I let you do what you love.”
“But I was the reason you were attacked and almost died. I was the reason that I almost lost you without ever telling you how I felt.” The tears that had threatened so many times over the past few weeks streamed down Dante’s cheeks. He’d tried to be strong every time the tears threatened, and this time he couldn’t hold them back.
“You listen to me, Dante Rivers,” Ryan said sharply. “You are not to blame for what happened. Only the assholes that hit me are. And as for telling me how you feel, well, you’ve done that now.”
“I feel like a girl,” Dante said, wiping his cheeks and struggling to get up.
“Hey!” Ryan snapped, and Dante stilled. “You can show any goddamned emotion you want around me. You can cry, yell, scream, smile, pant, or any other things you can come up with. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or any other such nonsense. All it means is that you trust me to care for you when you need it, just like you cared for me. So don’t hold back, and don’t be ashamed of what you feel.” Dante saw Ryan look all around the room. “You can be as strong and as much of a cowboy as you want with the rest of the world. You can fall off a bull and pretend you aren’t hurt with everyone out there, but with me, you show me what you’re feeling, and I’ll do the same with you. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, just human, and that you trust me.”