Wild Trail

by A. M. Arthur

  “Cute place,” Mack said.

  “It’s affordable.” Wes dumped his keys on the coffee table, then strode into the kitchen. “You thirsty? No beer, but I’ve got water, wine and ginger ale.”

  “Water’s fine, thanks.”

  Mack stood in the living room, a little uncertain now that he was here. Waiting for Wes’s cues seemed like his best bet. He didn’t want to accost the guy if sex wasn’t an option. Mack was stranded, after all, and driving him back in the morning made more sense than Wes attempting a round trip to the ranch tonight.

  Wes returned with a glass of water for Mack and a glass of red wine for himself. It was after midnight, and Mack needed to be back at the ranch by nine o’clock at the latest, but he wasn’t tired.

  No, with Wes merely inches away, every nerve in Mack’s body was on fire, aware of the man who turned him on so much he had to clutch at his water glass to keep from reaching for him. Pulling him close. Kissing him breathless.

  His jeans started getting unbearably tight thanks to those thoughts—jeans already tight enough that he couldn’t hide his growing erection. His body hadn’t reacted like that to a guy in years. Not since Geoff.

  Jesus, Mack wasn’t sure if he could survive falling for Wes, only to lose him, either to violence or to his acting career. Or some other guy.

  Mack growled softly.

  Wes blinked at him. “What did the water do?”

  “Sorry, got lost in thought.”

  Wes wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, if you’re growling at the thoughts, maybe we should redirect them.”

  “What have you got in mind?”

  Wes ran his tongue over his lower lip, that silver ball grazing his teeth, gaze lowering briefly to Mack’s crotch. “I can think of some things.”

  “If it’s the same thing I’m thinking, you might want to put that wine down before it ends up all over the floor.”

  Wes snagged Mack’s glass, too, then put them both on the coffee table. Mack swooped in, eager to put the taste of Wes back on his tongue. Wes opened for him the moment their lips crashed together, fingers threading into Mack’s hair, holding tight. Mack took what he wanted, kissing Wes like he’d missed doing for weeks, until Wes was humping his own wood against Mack’s thigh.

  Oh yeah, we’re on the same page all right.

  Mack tugged Wes’s tee off, then attacked his mouth again. God, he loved kissing this man. The softness of his lips, the stroke of his tongue against Mack’s. That fucking ball stud. And Wes was good at kissing. So fucking good at it that Mack could kiss him all night, but with Wes back in his arms, all Mack really wanted to do was fuck him again. And again.

  “Bedroom,” Mack said between kisses.

  Wes didn’t release him on the odd shuffle-walk to his bedroom, and Mack didn’t complain. Eventually they passed a doorway, which Mack kicked shut, not caring if the bang woke up the roommate. All that mattered was taking Wes apart, until they both came like gangbusters.

  Mack didn’t register the harsh turn until he was being pushed backward. He bounced on a soft bed, and then Wes climbed on, scooting them higher until he could straddle Mack’s waist, their erections pressed together. Their mouths met again, and Wes humped him, sending delicious sensation through Mack’s body. He clutched at Wes’s ass, pinching the skin through denim, urging him on, if this was how he wanted to get off.

  “Jesus.” Wes pressed his face into the crook of Mack’s neck, his hips stilling. “Want you to fuck me so bad.”

  Desire burned in Mack’s blood. “God, yes.”

  “I’ve missed this.”

  I’ve missed you. “Me, too.”

  Clothes came off with a lot of touching, tickling and pinching of bare skin. Mack wrestled Wes down onto the bed so he could kiss him a while longer, bare cocks rubbing together, driving each other higher, until Mack’s release teased him from too damned close.

  “Supplies,” Mack said.

  Wes dove for his nightstand, producing a condom and lube. He tossed them at Mack, and then turned around on his hands and knees, facing the headboard, his ass presented to Mack. As much as Mack wanted to play with that ass again, to shove his tongue inside it, he needed to be inside of Wes more. The desire made his heart pound with its ferocity, so unexpected, fueled by so many weeks apart.

  He put the condom on, then smeared his fingers with lube. Pushed one finger through Wes’s tight muscle, working him loose and getting him wet. Ready for two fingers that he thrust at a steady pace, until Wes started pushing back against him. Fucking himself on Mack’s fingers with needy little pants that stirred his blood.

  Jesus, how had Mack thought he could ever give this up?

  I can’t. He’s mine.

  Those words blazed through his brain as he pressed a hard, possessive kiss onto Wes’s shoulder. He smeared more lube on his cock, and then lined up. Pressed in slowly, relishing in the pressure against his glans, followed by the smooth heat of being inside Wes’s body. Wes let out a long, loud moan while Mack pushed deeper, until his hips were flush with Wes’s ass.

  “Fuck, yeah,” Mack said. “Missed you.”

  “Missed my ass, you mean?” Wes said in a strangled voice, with just an ounce of sass.

  “Brat.” He smacked Wes’s right butt cheek. “I missed you, your ass included. Ranch isn’t the same without your loud shirts.”

  “Can we fuck now, chat later? My ass really needs you to move.”

  Mack chuckled, then did as asked, setting a steady pace at first, letting Wes get used to him with gentle rolls of his hips. Watching Wes’s cues to go faster. Harder. The headboard started to bang against the wall, and Mack froze.

  “Old bed,” Wes said. “Apartment next door and Miles is across the hall, if that makes a difference.”

  “You like your neighbors?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good.”

  Mack resumed fucking Wes, his hips smacking against Wes’s perfect, taut ass with every stroke, the headboard banging beautifully as he thrust. He lost himself to it, until he realized he wasn’t doing something else he loved. He pulled out, then turned Wes onto his back. Scooped Wes’s legs up and put them against Mack’s shoulders. Pushed back inside, and then bent Wes in half so he could kiss him. The position also helped him nail Wes’s gland over and over, until Wes was a panting, writhing mess in Mack’s arms. Precome smeared his abs in a glistening streak joined by sparkles of perspiration. As much as Mack wanted them both to come, he also wanted this to last forever. It felt too right, too perfect, for it to ever end.

  And that thought kind of terrified him.

  It also sent Mack over the edge. His hips stuttered and jerked as he came, pleasure crashing down on him and threatening to pull him under with the force of it. He kept thrusting throughout, needing that connection as long as he could have it, until he started going soft. He held onto the condom as he pulled out, then tossed it over the bed. Crushed Wes to the mattress, their mouths still sealed together, Wes’s tongue now thrusting hard into his mouth. Licking, biting, demanding.

  Mack broke the kiss, then slipped a hand between them and started jerking Wes’s dick. “Look at me,” Mack said. “Wanna see you when you come.”

  Wes nodded, panting hard, hips thrusting against Mack’s hand. Didn’t take more than a few pulls before Wes cried out. His eyes snapped shut instinctively, but he opened them again, trying to follow Mack’s order to look. Mack didn’t think too hard on why that did funny things to his insides, Wes following orders. He kissed Wes instead, desperate to hang on, despite not being able to breathe properly. They finally separated, both of them panting and gasping, their bodies slick with sweat and come.

  It was perfect.

  Wes’s legs fell to the bed, and Mack once again smothered him with his bigger body. Needing every point of contact he could get, because he had to leave in the mornin
g. But Wes was so quiet beneath him that Mack started to worry. “You okay, boss?” he whispered.

  “Perfect,” Wes replied. “You killed me in the very best way.”

  Mack chuffed laughter, then kissed the side of Wes’s neck. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Felt different this time. More intense.”

  “That’s because we both know it isn’t a fling anymore. It’s something else.”

  “Yeah.” Wes yawned. “Might be falling for you, daddy. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure it is.” I think I’m falling for you, too, boss.

  * * *

  Wes woke to a phone alarm going off somewhere in the room. Not his phone, because he knew he hadn’t set it the night before, and when he started to lunge, he found himself being held down by a big, hairy body that squeezed him tight.

  Mack.

  The night before came flooding back in a rush of surprise and joy. The apology. The amazing sex. Wes’s own words, whispered through a haze of bliss, about falling for Mack. Mack not saying it back, but as Mack rolled away toward the offending phone, those words showed themselves in another way: Wes had been cleaned up before being put to bed. He’d dozed off so fast, he’d expected to wake up crusty with lube and come, but nope. Clean and dry.

  Mack silenced the phone, then slid back into bed. Tugged Wes closer for a long, sensual kiss that had Wes’s dick stirring. “Didn’t want to oversleep,” Mack said. “Need to be back for the new arrival check-in.”

  “Good thinking.” Wes threaded his fingers in Mack’s chest hair, leaving swirls and whorls behind. “Can’t we stay here forever?”

  “Wish we could. I mean that.”

  Wes saw the truth in Mack’s half-lidded eyes. “I know.”

  “You sore?”

  He clenched once. “A little.”

  Mack’s expression went from seductive to intent. “I woke us up with plenty of time to fool around, if you’re up for it.”

  Wes reached between them to clasp Mack’s morning wood. “Oh, the boss is definitely up for it.”

  Round two didn’t last nearly as long as round one had last night, but they both came hard. Wes tried not to flinch when Mack slipped out, but the guy was big, and they’d gone hard both times. Not that Wes regretted a thing. He might when he was facing down a ninety-minute round trip drive to Garrett and back, but he’d worry about that later.

  They shared the shower, which wasn’t really big enough, but that just made it more fun. Wes loved soaping up Mack’s chest and making designs in his fur. Mack spent a lot of time washing—and playing with—Wes’s ass.

  As they dried off, Wes said, “I’d offer to let you borrow clean clothes, but we are nowhere near the same size. Maybe a sweatshirt?”

  “In June? I’ll wear my own shirt, thanks. Didn’t end up dancing, so it’s not like it got all sweaty.”

  Good point.

  Miles was watching TV when they finally emerged, dried and dressed. He glanced their way, but showed no actual emotion when he said, “Morning.”

  Wes stared at him a beat, then said, “Sophie texted you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. After her diabolical plan to get you two back together worked, she texted with an overabundance of emojis. So I wasn’t totally surprised by your bedroom door slamming shut. The headboard was a little much, though, don’t you think?”

  Mack chuckled. “My fault.”

  Wes had zero regrets about that. “I’m not much of a breakfast person, so I don’t really have anything to offer you,” he said to Mack. “Want to grab something on the way out of the city? I know a great little coffee shop that makes the best scones.”

  “Scones?” Mack scowled. “Please tell me they have muffins or bagels, or something less froo-froo-y.”

  Wes poked him in the belly. “Yes, they do, you wimp. Scones are amazing. I dare you to eat one.”

  Mack totally fell for his needling. “Fine. I’ll eat a damned scone.”

  “Good.” Wes grabbed his keys, wallet and phone, and then slipped into a pair of boat shoes. “Let’s go, so you aren’t late to play with your horses.”

  “Ha ha, funny guy.”

  The drive to Garrett was more entertaining than Wes expected. After getting their coffee and scones, they hit the highway and chatter came easily to both of them. Mack told him stories about other guest incidents more outrageous than Wes losing control of his horse, and some of his progress with the ghost town restoration; Wes told stories about dinner theater life, and a few about Los Angeles, and his hope to still be a real actor one day. Even when the conversation dropped, the silence was never awkward.

  Mack even admitted he liked the maple and cinnamon chip scone Wes told him to order.

  The closer they got to Garrett, though, the sadder Wes became, because it meant this was ending. For now. He had no doubt in his mind that he’d see Mack again, but their schedules didn’t exactly mesh. Wes worked evenings, Mack worked days. Plus Mack had the restoration project starting soon. Wes had never done a long-distance relationship, and he knew he could be needy.

  This was going to be...interesting. But totally worth it for the sex and for the closeness Wes felt to Mack. He hadn’t felt that in a very long time, and he didn’t want to lose it.

  A few miles outside of the town of Garrett, Mack started texting with someone. After a couple of minutes, he said, “Listen, Colt’s going to meet us at the parking lot to pick me up.”

  Wes frowned. “Not interested in being seen with last night’s hookup?”

  Mack turned in his seat, startled eyes boring into the side of his head. “Not at all. I thought it would make you more comfortable, in case any of the other hands are around and recognize you.”

  “I’m not ashamed of us being together, Mack.”

  “Neither am I. That wasn’t why—never mind. I’m sorry, I’ll tell Colt not to pick me up.”

  “No, don’t do that, it’s fine.” Colt deserved the extra chore for his hand in last night’s subterfuge. “Besides, it’ll save me from driving over all those potholes. My ass can’t take it.”

  Mack’s smug grin made his decision worth it. “Guess you did go for quite the wild ride.”

  “Twice in twelve hours.”

  “Maybe next time we get together, we can try to set a record for three times in twelve hours?”

  Next time we get together.

  Wes’s blood hummed. “Definitely.”

  He navigated his way to the entrance to Clean Slate Ranch from memory. Once he’d driven to a place the first time, he rarely had trouble finding it again, which made driving in a sprawling place like the San Francisco Bay area much easier. Colt was waiting by the side of the dirt road in an idling pickup and grinning like a madman.

  “You tell Colt anything about us when you texted him?” Wes asked.

  “No, why?”

  Wes pulled to a stop and shifted into Park. “Wanna mess with his head?”

  “Sure.”

  “Play along.”

  Wes left the car idling, but sprang from the driver’s side door with a perfect glare aimed right for Colt. Colt’s smile dropped off his face as Wes approached, replaced by wide-eyed surprise. “Thank you very much for the most awkward night of my life,” Wes snapped.

  “Huh?” Colt’s mouth flapped open in the most amusing way.

  He sensed Mack approaching. “Did you think I was going to make Mack pay for a hotel room because of your crazy matchmaking plan?”

  “Uh...”

  “What exactly did you think was going to happen by pushing us together to talk?”

  Colt’s face went bright red. “That you’d...make up?”

  Wes had mercy on the guy, because Colt was too genuine to keep stringing along. “And you’d be right.”

  He blinked hard. “Wait, what?”

  Mack g
rabbed Wes by the waist and hauled him close. Kissed him in a way that left Wes light-headed and half-hard, and made Colt cheer. When Mack saw fit to stop plundering his mouth, Wes laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he said to Colt.

  “It’s okay, I think I deserved that,” Colt replied. “I don’t like lying, but I couldn’t stand seeing Mack so miserable. And face it, pal, you were miserable. And kind of a bastard.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Mack said. “I buried myself in work so I didn’t have to think about missing you.”

  Wes kissed his bearded chin. “Well, I missed you, too, and now I get to miss you until I can see you again.”

  “We can text and email and shit. Speaking of which.” He pulled his phone out. “What’s your number.”

  They exchanged information. Wes immediately texted Mack a series of excited emojis.

  “Ugh, you two are adorable,” Colt said, “and Mack, please don’t punch me for calling you adorable, but we need to get going. Reyes is hitching up the wagon for you, but you need to get into work clothes.”

  Mack glanced down at his clubbing outfit. “Yeah, that’s very true. Arthur would fire me himself, if I ever showed up at a guest pickup like this.”

  “Can’t have that,” Wes said. He kissed Mack again, imprinting the man into his senses, before drawing him into a long hug. “I’m glad you want to do this with me.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Have fun with the new city slickers.”

  “To be honest, I’m gonna try hard at that. Don’t know how many more weeks I’ll interact with the guests, not once the ball gets rolling on the restoration.” Mack cut his eyes at Colt, a funny glint in them. “I’ve got a historian flying in from Los Angeles on Tuesday afternoon to take a look at the place. Maybe stay on for the project.”

  Colt’s face went slack.

  Interesting.

  “A historian, huh?” Wes asked, playing along. “How’d you find her?”

  “Him. Colt actually recommended his very own ex for the job.”