by BA Tortuga
“What’s the matter, babe?” He took Stetson’s hand once they ordered iced tea.
“I just… look at this crowd. It’s Thanksgiving. I mean, I get that some folks don’t have people or are out of town, but….”
“But you’d be home if you could.” Curtis nodded. He got that. Stetson was a man of tradition, a parade and football and turkey-in-the-oven kind of guy.
“Yeah.” He got a twisted smile. “I know, I’m an old fuddy-duddy still. Prob’ly worse now. I appreciate you finding us a table, and it smells great. I was just surprised, is all.”
“Yeah. I’ve been on the road every year since my last at your house. And you can stop with the fuddy-duddy shit. I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t you.” So there.
Stetson stared at him, eyes wide as saucers. Definitely time to switch to tea so he could finish up the festivities later.
“You know, you’re a butthead,” Stetson finally replied.
“Am I? For what? Telling the truth?” He leaned his elbows on the table, wanting to hear Stetson’s answer to that one.
“For telling me you love me still. You know it ain’t fair.”
“I know.” Curtis paused, trying to push his thoughts into some kind of order. “It’s true, though. I do. I miss you. I’m not sure it would be any different if we tried again, but I do care.”
Stetson reached out and touched a button on his shirt. “Even if we did, right now, my life is broke and yours isn’t. I appreciate it, though, the… shit, I don’t know. Sentiment sounds kinda bitchy.”
“Lord.” He grinned. They were both dorks.
“Here you go, gents.” A second waiter brought them rolls and their tea. “Green chile cheese breads.”
This was New Mexico, after all.
They toasted with the biscuits, laughing as they did, the tension between them dissipating with a pop. Curtis moaned when the biscuity roll melted in his mouth. There was cornbread in the basket too, but he knew it would be too sweet for his Texas mind.
They didn’t chat much; they just ate and watched each other, the other diners. The silence was comfortable. Comforting. Not strained at all, and Curtis wanted to fist-pump and cheer.
This was what he wanted. To give Stetson what no one else did, a few minutes of peace. Well, and a hot meal and good company. He hoped he was providing those too.
He reckoned he was, on both accounts.
When dessert came, they ordered coffee, strong and hot and flavored with pinyon. Yum.
“Oh, that hits the spot. Nice and sweet. I can’t say when I’ve liked a cup more.”
“Mmm.” Curtis grinned into his cup. Stetson and his sweet tooth. The pie, now, that had homemade whipped cream. Uhn. He did love that stuff.
Stetson watched him lick the cream off the spoon, gaze sharp, hungry. “I think I’m gonna have to ask for more whipped cream.”
“Okay.” Curtis could get behind that.
To his utter shock, Mr. Staid and Steady waved the waiter down and asked for more. Oh, hello. Curtis chuckled. Yum.
The bowl of extra cream came, and Stetson pushed it over to him. “Take what you want, cowboy. I ordered it for you.”
“Spoiling me rotten.” Curtis grinned wide.
“Yeah-yeah. I just want to watch you enjoy it. It makes me ache.”
“In a good way.” He hoped so, for damn sure. This might just be working.
“In the best way.”
“That’s a fine thing, Roper.” He shifted in his seat, everything tight below the belt.
“It is. You wanting me as bad as I’m wanting you?” Stetson looked upon him like a starving man at a banquet.
“I am.” He wasn’t gonna lie. They might be in some sort of holiday bubble that would never repeat itself, but Curtis felt as if this was his chance… well, for something. It was too new to figure out what.
“Good.” Simple as that. Just good. “Eat your pie, cowboy.”
“Yessir.” He scooped more cream onto his pie before taking a big bite. Uhn. The pumpkin part was a little sour, spiced with comforting winter flavors. The crust was flaky. The cream made it so much better.
Stetson chuckled, the sound husky and sexual, but when Curtis glanced up, Stetson was deep in his coffee.
Tease. That was so much more like his old lover that Curtis ached inside.
Stetson took a bite of his own pie, humming a little deep in his chest. “This is good pecan pie. You want a bite?”
“Please.” He half expected Stetson to offer over his plate for Curtis to scoop up a bite. Instead, Stetson fed him a bit from his fork.
Okay. He was going to cream his jeans, right here and now. It had been so damned long. So long.
“You like it?”
“Rich. Smoky.” Curtis licked his lips. “Good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, like the smell of a good fire, huh?”
“Exactly like that, and maybe a glass of whiskey.”
“Yeah. Something nice and smooth.” Stetson winked at him. “Not that I know dick all about whiskey.”
“Nope. You’re a beer man.” Wasn’t that a song?
“I most definitely am. Cheap and easy.”
“Hey, now. I don’t think you’re easy at all.” He waited for the pinch he knew was coming.
It landed on his inner thigh, sharp and teasing.
He hooted, then looked around. No one was paying them any attention. He finished up his pie before licking the cream remaining out of the bowl.
“Look at you!” Stetson stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Lord have mercy, cowboy. You’re… something else.”
“Am I? I told you, no limits for Thanksgiving. I’ll need to work it off later, though.”
“I might—” Stetson went ruby red but didn’t drop his gaze. “I might could help with that.”
“I just bet you could.” Curtis wanted to go get their room. Now. Still, how often did Stetson get to linger over a meal? He wouldn’t push.
“You ready to head upstairs? I am. I’m ready for you.”
Now his cheeks heated. “I am.” He waved down their waiter, hoping he wasn’t being too much of a dick. “Can we get the check, please, sir?”
“Absolutely. Are you charging it to your room?”
“We haven’t checked in yet, so I’ll go ahead and pay.” He handed over his debit card.
“Thank you for supper, cowboy. I appreciate it.”
“I loved sharing it with you.” He really did. The last few years had been lonely, and he hadn’t even twigged to it until this week.
“Maybe….” Stetson stopped, shook his head. “I did too, cowboy. More than you’ll ever know.”
“Good.” The waiter brought back his card so Curtis could sign the check. He stood, then held out a hand for Stetson. Tonight wasn’t for maybes. It was just for them. A secret getaway.
They’d deal with the real tomorrow.
When Stetson took his hand right there in public, a savage sort of joy filled him. They checked in without a word, then headed upstairs. New beds, the desk man said, and he hadn’t blinked an eye when they asked for one king. Santa Gay for the win.
They went up, both of them putting their hats aside and sitting to take their boots off. He guessed they’d both done this before—together and separate—so there was no reason to act like virgins. He felt weirdly calm, even with the shivery goodness of knowing Stetson was right there.
Curtis reckoned he knew what he wanted. No wondering.
He reached up to unfasten his collar, and Stetson stopped him. “I want to do that, cowboy. Please.”
Curtis met those pretty dark eyes and nodded, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You got it, Roper.”
“Thank you. I dream about this, sometimes, baring you to my eyes.”
His buttons popped free easily, and Stetson leaned in, kissed the hollow of his throat as Stetson worked to open up his damn soul.
He slid one hand behind Stetson’s head, that cowboy short hair soft against his finge
rs. “I dream about you all the time.”
“Liar.” Stetson’s moan, though, said his lover believed him, knew there wasn’t a hint of a lie to it.
“Not one bit.” He took a kiss because he’d waited long enough and he didn’t want to miss the chance.
There was the strangest slide again—one where time stopped and Stetson was eighteen again, but at the same time not. This version was lean muscle formed from years of carrying sorrow and worry on those shoulders.
Curtis backed up a bit and helped Stetson undress as well, counting new scars.
“You’re fine to me.” Stetson’s fingers smoothed his shirt down off his shoulders, the rough edges of Stetson’s callused fingers better than any silken touch.
“Am I?” His ribs stood out and he knew it, but he was pretty well put together for a skinny bull rider. To hear Stetson tell him meant a lot.
“Yessir.” Stetson knelt before him, and he shook his head. He didn’t need…. A soft kiss touched his belly, and he gasped.
His muscles pulled up tight, his hips rocking. He panted, wanting more.
Please God, he prayed. Let this be real. Let this happen.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Stetson popped the button on Curtis’s jeans. “You know this. We were always so good at this.”
“We were. This part was easy.”
“Of course, we were both kids….” The sound as Stetson unzipped him was so fucking loud, almost drowning him out.
“Were we? We sure were wild for each other.”
Curtis cupped the back of Stetson’s head again and tilted so he could stare into those eyes. “Make no mistake, Roper. I still am wild for you.”
“Kiss me, cowboy. I need you.”
“Good.” Was there anything better than this? He kissed Stetson again and again, until the strain on his neck made him pull the man back up on the bed.
As fine as it had been to see Stetson kneeling in front of him, Stetson straddling his thighs was a special kind of bliss. Curtis caught his breath, his body going on high alert.
“Lord, you feel perfect,” he said.
Stetson chuckled for him, then leaned down to kiss him, giving him enough to drown in. They changed the angle and kept going, lips and tongues meeting, pressing, moving.
He held on to Stetson like a drowning man held on to a life raft.
Stetson clung to him the same way, the need flaring between them, the heat rising.
Damn, this was everything he wanted right now. Everything on earth.
He reached down, grabbing that fine, fine ass encased in Wranglers. Even skinny as Stetson was, it was a double handful of hard muscle, and Curtis squeezed. Stetson arched for him, rocked back into his body. Damn, but that made his mouth dry.
Trying to memorize every moment, Curtis stared at Stetson. He would never let this go, would hold it in the long months to come on the road. God, that was a thought. He was fixin’ to have to get on his pony and ride, but he sure as shit didn’t want to.
“Hey. Stay with me, huh?” Stetson cupped his face, stroked his cheeks like he was precious.
“Right here, babe. I swear.” He snapped back to the present, and he kissed Stetson once more, an addiction forming, that mouth like heaven.
Stetson rocked into him, again and again, that hard promise in his jeans enough to make him dizzy.
“Need the rest of your skin, Stetson. All of you.” He stood, lifting them both off the bed easily. Damn, he needed to fatten up his lover.
He was supposed to be the light one.
“Anything you want, cowboy.” The jeans stripped off easy as pie, and soon they were bare as the day they were born, sliding under the cold, crisp sheets and pressing together.
They lay on their sides, hands sliding on skin, the kisses taking on a different note now they were completely bare.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t do anything but touch and touch, stroking Stetson everywhere his hands could reach. He traced the line of shoulder and arm, then skated one hand over Stetson’s ribs, which stuck out too damned much.
Stetson chuckled, then pushed more firmly into his fingers, deepening the touch.
“Mmm. Hungry man.”
“I am. Strange, considering how much we just ate.”
Curtis chuckled, nipping at that swollen lower lip Stetson presented. “Dessert.”
“Had that too. Wasn’t good as this.”
“This is so much better.” He ghosted over the small of Stetson’s back, then stroked one asscheek. “An embarrassment of riches.”
Stetson chuckled for him, the sound deep and secret, something that belonged to him and him alone. “You know it.”
Then Stetson’s hand—that amazing, rough, scarred hand—found their cocks and wrapped around them both, measuring them from base to tip.
Curtis caught his breath, his body stilling completely for a moment. Even his heart stuttered, he figured. “Been so damned long.”
“You know it. No more.” Stetson stroked him, the touch as sure and wonderful as it had been the last time.
“Uh-huh?” Speech was becoming a luxury. He grunted, his hips moving slow and steady as he pushed into that touch.
Neither of them seemed to mind a bit, to be honest.
He pressed his hand hard to that tiny cowboy butt, keeping them in rhythm. Curtis wanted Stetson crazy for him, wanted to do all the things. This worked for now, though. They had all night.
Stetson groaned and leaned up, nipping Curtis’s jaw.
“Mmm-hmm. Feels damned good.” See him make words. Go him. He laughed, sheer joy taking him over for a moment. “Perfect, in fact.”
“Yes.” So simple, that word, but it was what he needed to hear.
He had all these other words trying to pop out, so he licked at Stetson’s skin instead, because what good would some of them do now? He nibbled along one collarbone, tasting the tiniest bit of sweat.
“Damn!” Stetson’s fingers squeezed, proving that he’d hit a hot spot and a half.
Yeah. Okay, he’d forgotten that and a thousand other things he needed to rediscover. Curtis scraped that place with his teeth one more time, damn near crowing when Stetson’s belly rolled for him.
He did that. He’d made those muscles clench up. He reached down for a moment, pressing his hand around Stetson’s just enough to give them both a thrill.
Stetson offered him a low cry that sounded damn near broken, so he lifted his head and swallowed the sound down, taking Stetson’s lips as he did.
They gave up on thinking then. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. They moved instinctively, both driving toward the pleasure they needed so badly. The release.
The rest could come later. Right now they needed this most basic of touches.
Curtis rocked faster, pushing against Stetson’s grip. “Harder, babe. More.”
“Uh-huh. I got this.” Stetson was true to his word too, tugging at him like he was pulling a bull rope.
He arched his back, his breath coming short. “Soon, babe. Too soon, but soon.” Was he making sense at all?
“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” Stetson nipped his earlobe, the tiny pain near unbearable.
“You do.” He bit his lower lip, then squeezed them together more firmly, his hand still around Stetson’s.
Stetson began to tease his slit with every single upstroke, and he wanted to scream. His balls drew up, his dick so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it. He was so sensitive, the tiniest thing was going to set him off like a rocket.
He shivered like he’d taken earthquake pills, his whole world gone sideways.
“It’s okay, cowboy. It’s okay. Come on and let go.” Stetson’s voice was low, rough, but the generosity in the words stunned him.
“Need you like breathing, Stetson.”
“I’m here. Right here. You can have anything you want.” Stetson ran one thumbnail over his slit, which made a bright flash of lightning run up his spine.
That was all she wrote, h
e shot like a Saturday night special—fast and hard and without warning.
His breath left his lungs in a whoosh, and time stopped. He froze, then began to shudder, his body working through the fireworks in his brain.
When he finally blinked at Stetson, he felt like a real heel. His lover was still sawing back and forth, almost sobbing his breath in and out. Jesus.
Curtis slapped Stetson’s hand away and grasped that long cock, jerking it with the rhythm he knew Stetson craved.
“Please.” There was a world of longing right there, and he intended to answer it.
“I got you. I do.” He watched every movement, every twist of that lean body. Stetson yearned like no one else; in fact, he begged with his entire soul. Curtis stroked and pulled, letting Stetson really feel his every motion, every callus. “Look at you ride.”
Goddamn, he could see that over and over, at every angle.
“I—oh fuck, Curtis. Oh damn.” Stetson’s eyes went wide, and the man came apart in his hands, crying out as he shot, slick wetness easing the way of his touch.
Stetson blinked at him, and for a second Curtis thought his lover was going to lose it, but then Stetson just pushed in and leaned hard against him.
“That’s it.” That release of tension had been enormous for Curtis. He couldn’t even imagine how Stetson felt, dealing with this situation for years now. “I got you. I promise.”
“I know.” The words came soft, almost sad, but neither one of them would say anything about it.
They would take what they could tonight, for sure, and let tomorrow wake them up only when they had to.
Then they’d get their collective shits back together.
Chapter Nine
STETSON USED up the final bit of the wood to build a fire for Curtis’s last day here at the ranch.
It was colder than a witch’s tit, and he’d left Momma sleeping so he could get the feeding done early. He didn’t want to miss a bit of the time they had left.
It had been the best week in recent memory—riding and laughing, a couple of beers, and lots of loving and touching.
The absolute best.
It had almost felt real. Good thing he knew better.
Curtis padded out from the hall, sweats riding low on his hips, bare upper body sheened with a little sweat from all the push-ups and sit-ups he’d been doing. “Hey, a fire? Smells amazing.”