Wild Trail

by A. M. Arthur

  He’d used past tense about Colt. This was bad.

  Wes handed Mack the second shot. “So you punched him.”

  “I wanted to bash his face into the barn floor, but Reyes was there and held me back.”

  Thank God for Reyes.

  “Did Colt tell you why he never admitted the truth?” Wes asked.

  Mack grunted, then tossed back the shot. “Said he was scared of ruining our friendship. He didn’t want to heap that on my shoulders while I was grieving.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I’m too busy being pissed off at him to give a shit if he was sincere or not. He killed my boyfriend.”

  Wes had an odd visceral reaction to Mack calling anyone else his boyfriend, and then told himself to behave. This was boyfriend past-tense. Ex-boyfriend of the deceased variety, and not a threat. Not someone Mack was going to dump him for, for being too needy. “And you need time to accept this new truth, to process everything he said.”

  “Not just what he said.”

  “Oh God, what else?” Wes pitched back his second shot.

  “After Reyes made sure I didn’t kill Colt on the spot, he followed me back to our cabin and decided it was time to tell me that the day before he died, Geoff confessed to him that he’d cheated on me. Again.”

  Again?

  It took Wes a moment to find his rational voice and asked, “Geoff cheated on you?”

  Mack nodded, his eyes on that jar of liquor. “First time was after we’d been together about three years. He said I’d been distant, obsessed with work, and he blamed my close friendships with Colt and Reyes. He said he was jealous, so he slept with one of his co-stars on some commercial he’d booked.”

  “And you bought that?” Wes’s tone had been sharp, but goddamn, that sounded a hell of a lot like victim blaming to him.

  “I loved him.” Mack’s fractured tone made Wes forget the liquor. He pulled Mack into another hug, uncertain what to do or say. The way Mack sagged into his embrace suggested he’d done the right thing.

  “I know you did,” Wes whispered. “I’m so sorry all of this is happening.”

  “Reyes had the same reason for not telling me about the second time. I was grieving, and then he had his own injuries to deal with after a fire, and then time passed and it didn’t seem worth it.”

  “You believe him?”

  “Yes. I’ve known Reyes most of my life. If he’d thought there was any real value in me knowing about the second time Geoff cheated on me, he’d have told me. Guess after Colt got caught, Reyes figured he should confess. I think he was trying to make me less mad at Colt, but it didn’t work. Big difference between not telling someone his boyfriend cheated and not telling someone you killed the boyfriend.”

  All of that extra info certainly painted a clearer picture about why Mack had initially seemed to distrust actors. Geoff hadn’t done him any favors in that department, but Wes would never cheat.

  “Colt didn’t want to hurt you,” Wes said.

  Mack growled. “Please don’t defend him.”

  “I’m not.” Wes untangled to pour them each a third shot, which would be enough for him. Dinner had been hours ago, and this shit was strong. He didn’t want to pass out while Mack needed him. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

  “This. I know it sounds hokey, but being near you is...calming.”

  “It doesn’t sound hokey. It’s sweet. I’m glad you came to me. I mean it.”

  “I don’t know what to feel anymore.”

  “That’s okay.” Third shots went down the hatch. He took Mack’s empty glass, then squeezed his forearm. “How about a shower? It might help you relax a little bit.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Wes cleaned up the mess and put the corn back in the freezer. Led him down the hall to the bathroom. Once he had them undressed and Mack under the hot spray, Wes used the excuse of soaping Mack up to massage his shoulders and arms. Ribs and waist. Neck and scalp. Slowly but surely, he worked out knots and relieved stress. By the time Wes had rinsed all the soap off, Mack looked like he was ready to pass out in the tub.

  They had the whole clean-clothes-that-would-fit-Mack issue again. After toweling them both off, Wes dug up the baggiest pair of boxers he owned. They were a tight fit, but Mack hadn’t come here for sex, so clothes were a must. Wes put on sleep shorts and a sleeveless tee, then tucked them both into bed.

  He hauled Wes into his arms, and Wes went willingly, happy to be there for Mack when he was clearly still distressed. Some nameless emotion bubbled up inside of Wes. He hadn’t done this before, but he liked it. He liked it a whole lot, and wanted to reassure Mack he’d be there always.

  But love was a fickle bitch, and Wes had been in love once before.

  Not like this, though. This is different, and you know it.

  Wes snuggled in closer and enjoyed whatever this was while he had it.

  * * *

  Mack woke to both the best and worst sensations. The best being the warmth of a slim male body tucked close to his. The worst being the headache and bleariness of both an emotional hangover, and a liquor-induced one. He’d only tried moonshine one other time, and it had singed his nose hairs, so he’d done a single shot. Last night’s apple pie stuff had been dangerously good.

  He tried to ignore his headache and concentrate on the pleasant hominess of waking up with Wes. Mack had missed that these past five years, and he liked how natural it felt with Wes next to him. Mack was sleeping on his stomach, which he had a habit of doing, but half of his right side was draped over Wes, who was sound asleep on his back. Wes looked young and peaceful asleep, his blond hair in messy curls across his forehead.

  When he’d first arrived on Wes’s doorstep and overheard Wes talking to an older, good-looking guy about favors, Mack had instantly gotten the wrong impression. Assuming Wes was seeing another guy, when it was a coworker borrowing a game. At ten o’clock at night. The confession that Geoff cheated on him twice—both times with an actor—hadn’t relaxed Mack much when he learned the guy was a coworker of Wes’s. No, it had taken Wes’s blinding smile and gentle reassurances to get through to him. And then Mack had felt even worse for assuming Wes was cheating on him, because yeah, that was Mack’s issue.

  He still owed Wes an apology for it.

  Wes had been so wonderful last night, holding Mack without demanding he talk. Icing his hand, because Mack didn’t have enough sense to do it himself. Listening when Mack did want to talk. Having Wes there for him had been everything. He was able to exist in his emotions, instead of forcing himself to feel something he didn’t.

  He ghosted his fingertips across Wes’s pale, bare shoulder, feeling the warm skin, mapping his body by touch. They’d been naked together, sure, but that had always been about getting off. They weren’t naked now—his junk was somewhat uncomfortably smashed between the bed and a pair of too-tight boxers—but Mack took this opportunity to really study Wes. He had a few freckles on his chest and neck, and a small, crescent-shaped scar on his right cheek, just below his eye. A few more pale freckles on his nose, and a mole right at his hairline by his ear. So many tiny things Mack had never noticed before.

  I want to know everything about him.

  He knew what Wes’s face looked like when he orgasmed, but he didn’t know Wes’s favorite movie. He knew what Wes looked like when Mack was pounding him hard, while bent in half, but Mack didn’t know Wes’s favorite food, favorite color, favorite anything, really. And he wanted to know those things.

  That more than anything else told him coming here had been the right thing to do.

  Wes muttered something in his sleep and rolled away from Mack.

  “Oh no you don’t.” Mack grabbed his waist and pulled Wes toward him, happy when Wes threw an arm around his ribs and snuggled in, facing Ma
ck. Sharing his pillow now, his face inches from Mack’s. Mack kissed the tip of his nose.

  Wes scrunched his nose, then blinked his eyes open. His sleepy smile made Mack grin. “Morning,” Wes said. “Time is it?”

  “No idea.” And Mack really didn’t care. He didn’t have any specific duties today, other than supervising the horses and guests, but they had plenty of other hands to do that. Reyes would quietly make Mack’s excuses. The only person who’d probably feel slighted by Mack’s disappearance was Avery, and Avery was the reason Mack was gone.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Avery had made an innocent inquiry. Colt was the one who’d lied for years.

  “Uh-oh, you’re thinking unhappy thoughts,” Wes said. “Come back to me, daddy.”

  Mack kissed his nose again. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You had a shitty night. How do you feel?”

  “Got a headache.”

  Wes poked him in the chest. “Not what I meant.”

  “I know. I feel less ragey, but I’m still mad at him.” In the clear light of morning, Mack was better able to understand why Colt had never told him the ballistics report, but that didn’t mean he forgave him.

  “You’re allowed to have your feelings over this,” Wes said.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  Mack hated admitting how jealous he’d been last night, but he owed Wes that for being so amazing and supportive. “When you opened the door and I saw you with another guy in your place, I got jealous. And territorial.”

  “I know.” Wes sifted his fingers through the hair on Mack’s chest. “I saw it on your face, which is why I was so quick to reassure you. I know we didn’t exactly have the exclusivity conversation yet, but I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t plan to.”

  Good, because you’re mine. “Same.”

  “Excellent. Despite the twink-ish exterior and actor flamboyancy, I’m not much for sleeping around, or hooking up with random strangers. I mean, I will in order to scratch an itch, but it’s not my favorite thing. And I don’t cheat.”

  “Hmm. Does it bother you that I am? Was? Into hooking up?”

  “No. We all have a sexual history, and you strike me as the kind of guy who’d be honest if he’d caught anything I need to know about.”

  “I would, but I don’t have anything.” Mack always used condoms for penetration, and a lot of times he used them for oral, too. The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to him to use protection for oral with Wes said a lot about how crazy the guy made him.

  “Ditto.” The corner of Wes’s mouth turned up in a sexy smile. “So I’ve heard that blow jobs are great remedies for headaches.”

  Heat pooled in Mack’s belly. “Really?”

  “Wanna test that theory, daddy?”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Wes shoved the covers away and slid down the bed. Wrangling Mack out of those tight boxers took a bit of effort, and Mack was still soft when Wes first took him into his mouth. But the wet heat of Wes’s mouth, the ball stud, and the way Wes’s bright blue gaze kept contact with his had Mack hard pretty fast. He relaxed into the blow job and let Wes take care of him.

  He took his time, too, the wonderful bastard. Licking up and down Mack’s shaft like he was a melting popsicle, nibbling around the head, taking the whole thing to the back of his throat. One hand massaged Mack’s balls, light enough to feel it but not hard enough to blast him off too soon.

  When Wes’s questing fingers rubbed against his taint, Mack instinctively tensed. But this was Wes, and Wes wouldn’t hurt him, so Mack drew his knees up and apart, giving Wes room. Trusting whatever Wes wanted. Wes pulled that hand back and sucked on his middle finger, getting it wet, and Mack’s balls tightened in anticipation. At the first press of that damp finger, Mack groaned and reflexively pushed down.

  Wes teased his hole, rubbing without entering, and then he shattered Mack’s mind by simultaneously swallowing his cock down, deep into his throat, and pushing that finger inside Mack’s body. Mack clenched around the finger, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. Wes pulled off his cock, lips shiny with saliva, and grinned. “Like that, daddy?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  Wes wiggled his finger.

  Mack growled. “Get lube.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wes complied fast, and soon he had a slicked finger back up Mack’s ass, and those pretty lips around his cock.

  “Oh fuck.” Mack dropped a string of cusses while Wes both sucked his dick and fucked his ass, eventually adding a second lubed finger that burned in the very best way. It woke Mack up, reminded him he was alive and with a man he cared about, and this was what mattered most. Him and Wes. Together.

  “Close,” Mack panted. “Oh fuck, boss.”

  Wes made an approving noise around his cock that had Mack’s balls pulling up tight. Those fingers started brushing his gland, and that was it.

  “Coming!”

  Wes didn’t pull off. He swallowed every drop he earned with those fingers, and Mack was dizzy with pleasure when Wes finally crawled back up and kissed Mack hard. Licking into his mouth, stroking Mack’s tongue with that stud. Damp shorts pressed against his belly. Mack reached between them to find a wet patch and a softening dick.

  “That was fucking hot,” Wes said. “Fingering you. I came from humping the bed.”

  Strangely proud of that fact, Mack kissed him harder, for a long while.

  The blow job had helped his headache a lot, but Mack still needed ibuprofen and a big mug of coffee before he felt human again. Being with Wes overnight had been exactly what he needed, but it was time to head back to work. It was after ten, and he’d already fielded two curious texts from Judson. Mack kept it vague, needing to speak to him in person. Wes had helped him refocus his anger, but Mack still didn’t know how he felt about Colt, or if he’d ever be able to forgive him for this.

  He and Wes kissed by the door for a long time, before Mack finally pulled away. “Jesus, but I can’t get enough of you,” Mack said.

  “Good. Then you’ll come back and see me as soon as possible.”

  “How’s Saturday night sound?”

  “Perfect. I’m usually done at the theater and home around ten.”

  “Sounds like a date.”

  Mack kissed him again, and then reluctantly left. The drive back to the ranch seemed to take forever, and also end too soon. Arthur was sitting on the porch swing with a tablet, and as soon as Mack parked the pickup, Arthur stood. Beckoned Mack.

  He approached the porch with a pang of worry, but Arthur looked more confused than anything. He glanced at Mack’s bruised hand once, then harrumphed. “You wanna explain to me why Colt came into my office this morning and tried to quit?” Arthur asked.

  Surprise jolted down Mack’s spine. “He did what?”

  “Tried to quit. Can I connect your damaged hand to his busted face?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell him to quit.”

  “Then why’d he try to?”

  Mack glanced around, but that week’s tourists were probably out at the lake enjoying the summer sunshine. “Because Colt confessed something last night that he’s been keeping from me for the last five years, and it pissed me off something fierce. I couldn’t control my reaction, and if Reyes hadn’t been there, the beating would have been worse.” Guilt tried to poke at his conscience, but Mack fought it.

  Arthur studied him a beat. “I won’t make you tell me what secret of his got you all riled up, but I will ask you this. Should I accept his resignation letter or shred it?”

  “If he really wants to quit because he’s unhappy with the job, fine, I won’t stop him. Let me talk to him first.”

  “You gonna hit him again?”

  “Hope not.” Mack flexed his right hand. “My fingers won’t survive another direct hit like that
.”

  “Be hard to tack a horse with a broken hand.”

  “Good point. You know where he is?”

  “Told him to keep working until I’d made up my mind on accepting his letter. Saw him heading toward the west fence with his toolbox. Had a board come down last night.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mack texted Reyes that he was on the property, and then went in search of Colt.

  Reyes texted back during his walk: Should I hide the weapons?

  No. Gonna talk to him, not kill him.

  Sounds like Wes is a good influence on you.

  He is. We’ll talk later.

  Mack found his target about a quarter-mile down the west fence. It bordered a lot of trees and county-owned land, and Colt seemed to be finishing up his repairs, replacing tools in that careful way of his. Just like last night. Mack tamped down on a fresh flash of rage. Yeah, he wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. He couldn’t even look at the back of Colt’s head without wanting to growl, so this needed to be short and sweet.

  “Tell me why you want to quit,” Mack snapped.

  Colt startled and fell onto his ass with a shout. He scrambled to turn and stared up at Mack with a healthy amount of wariness. “Christ, man, my blood pressure is already through the roof right now.”

  Mack didn’t apologize, just restated his question.

  “I assumed after last night that you’d want me gone,” Colt said.

  “Part of me does, but I’m not going to fire you or make you leave, unless leaving is what you want to do. Arthur will shred your resignation if you ask him to.”

  Colt studied him from his spot on the ground, making no move to stand. “I thought it would be easier on you, not seeing me every day.”

  “No, you thought it would be easier on yourself. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for this. I don’t know if we’ll be friends again. But, Colt, a coward runs away. A strong man stays and faces what he’s done.”

  And since that was all Mack had to say about that, he turned around and walked back to the main house.