Frog

Chapter 1

ONE

It was pouring when I walked outside to use the pay phone. I was so close; I could stop or just catch another bus depending on how he sounded on the other end.

“Hello?”

Not Cy, someone else, and it was noisy wherever his phone was. I checked my ancient Timex—nearly eight o’clock on a Friday night. He was probably at a club or a bar or even dinner. I was interrupting.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, sorry, I… Is this Doc’s phone?”

“Doc?”

“Sorry, I mean Cyrus.”

“Yeah, this is his. He just had me answer it ’cause he’s putting things away in the fridge. Who’s this?”

I swallowed, and instead of hanging up like I should have, I said, “This is Weber, and I wanted—”

“Weber who?”

“Weber?” someone asked in the background.

“Hey, Cy, do you know anybody named—”

“You know what,” I started to say just as muffled sounds came from the other end of the line, and then a quick bang, like something dropped, maybe the phone.

“Weber?” Cy sounded breathless, and my name, because he was the one saying it, sounded amazing.

“Hey.” I smiled into the phone even though the water was coming in under the booth and soaking through the bottoms of my worn cowboy boots. “Sorry to be interruptin’ whatever you’re doin’. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

“You’re not interrupting anything. Where—”

“Are you at a party?”

“No, I’m at a friend’s house, and we were about to have dinner.”

“Then I’ll let you go and—”

“It’s just a big group, Web, it’s nothing,” he assured me. “Where are you?”

I was starting to shiver. “Not far, so I thought I would—”

“Yes.” He cut me off. “Come see me. I’ll go home right now.”

“Oh no, you—”

“Web.” His breath caught. “Please. Meet me there.”

“I’ll meet you in the morning,” I told him, because I realized how exhausted I was, and I wanted to shower and shave before I saw him.

I always showed up looking like hammered shit, in clothes I’d slept in for a week.

He deserved better. Not that this was the case at the moment.

I’d showered in a motel the night before.

“Weber, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

There was a long silence, and after a minute I got it. I wasn’t that bright, but even I could figure things out. “I’m not punishing you. I just look like hell, and I’d like to look better this time. I promise I’ll be there.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” I said as my teeth started to chatter.

“Oh God, you’re freezing. Are you… Where exactly are you?”

“At the Greyhound bus station in Oakland.”

“Oh God,” he groaned. “You’re that close?”

“Doc—”

“Weber.” His voice cracked. “Please don’t make me wait until tomorrow. I don’t give a damn what you look like. Just let me come get you…please.”

“I don’t wanna interrupt your—”

“Web.” He sounded so serious, and I loved it. “I’ll beg. Do you want me to beg?”

“You don’t need to beg for nothin’, ever.”

“Listen,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “just…I’m so sorry about the last time.”

Seven or so months ago I had been through on my way to Reno, and when I was ready to go, he had given me an ultimatum: Stay forever or go and never come back.

He was tired of waiting, which I had no idea he’d even been doing, and he wanted me either to remain with him or lose his number.

I had actually forgotten the fight until this very moment.

I tended to remember only the good times with him and none of the bad.

“Oh shit, Doc.” I trembled. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Web—”

“God, I’m such an ass,” I groaned, feeling more than stupid. Talk about a needy bastard.

“No!”

No? “Darlin’, are you—”

“Weber Yates, don’t you dare hang up this phone!”

“Yeah, but—”

“I want to see you!”

He had to be making a spectacle of himself at whoever’s house he was at. “Calm down and stop your yellin’. I don’t want no one lookin’ at ya like you’re crazy.”

“I don’t care! Jesus Christ, Web, just—”

“Are you sure you wanna see me?”

He made a strangled noise. “Yes, please. So sure.”

“You ain’t mad no more?”

“No, baby, I’m not mad. I was never mad.”

I coughed softly. “Was that the guy?”

There was silence before he answered me. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, last time I was here you said you were fixin’ to get serious with a guy who wanted to marry you, and so—”

“No, that wasn’t him. I tried to make it work with the man you’re talking about, but…turns out you can’t love someone just because you should.”

“So it’s over?”

“Yes, it’s over. It’s been over for the last four months.”

“’Cause I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up for ya. I reckon I put you through enough.”

“There’s nothing to mess up, I assure you. I’m so sorry for how we… Baby, I’m so sorry for what I said.”

I realized between his tone and how shaky his breathing was that maybe I made a mistake. “You know, I’m kinda tore up. Maybe this wasn’t such a good—”

“It was,” he murmured, his tone coaxing. “It was a great idea. Really nice of you to not let me feel like an asshole for the rest of my life.”

I took a deep breath. “You’re not an asshole.”

“But how I pressured you, the things I said… I went after you, but you were already gone.”

“You did?” I brightened, because that was nice to hear.

“Yes. God, Weber, I really am so sorry.”

“Forget it. I’ll see you.”

“When?”

He knew me well for someone who had seen me maybe fifteen times in a three-year period—he knew to ask for a definitive timeline. Because when I said I would see him, it could mean either today, tomorrow, or before I died.

“Weber?”

I took a breath. “Well, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I reckon you could come fetch me from the station here.”

Deep exhale. “Okay. I’ll be right there. Don’t leave. Please.”

“It ain’t like you to worry.”

“No, I know, I just… I missed you, and I never have any way to reach… I’m just so glad you called. You have no idea.”

And because I knew him, I knew he really was.

We met in Texas when I was breaking horses on a ranch between rodeos.

He and some friends had come to hunt quail, and the guide was held up with another party, so my boss asked me to run into town and pick the men up and drive them out to the ranch.

I never thought the brown-eyed, chestnut-haired, golden-skinned man would take a second look at me.

Even under the merciless Texas sun, he’d looked like a million bucks.

Crisp, polished, pressed, the tailored dress suit and shirt that must’ve cost more than all my earthly possessions clinging to the long lines of him, accentuating his muscles. I could barely breathe.

In the SUV, I stared at the road, kept quiet, and concentrated on not fidgeting.

When the four men piled out of the car after I rolled up to the huge ranch house, I exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

And then almost came out of my skin moments later when there was a hard tap on the glass.

I rolled down the window, swallowing hard, my mouth bone dry.

“What was your name?” the god asked me as I tried for the life of me to remember.

I coughed. “Web. Weber Yates,” I managed to answer. “What’s yours?”

“Cyrus. Cyrus Benning.”

I smiled at him, taking in the swirl of gold in the milk-chocolate eyes that you only noticed up close. He had long, dark, feathery lashes, chiseled features, and broad shoulders. The man was mouthwatering and by far the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

He wet his lips. “I don’t normally…” He cleared his throat. “And you’re probably not… But do you think you might want to have dinner with me?”

I would not make it through dinner. The man’s mouth, his full, sculpted lips, made me want things I shouldn’t have. Looking at him, I got brave. “Or we could find a motel and fuck,” I said before my brain kicked in.

He smiled, wicked and wide. “We could do that, but I would also love to feed you if you’ll let me.”

“That’s not real safe in this town.”

He leaned against the door and reached toward me, sliding the back of his fingers up my throat. “Okay, then, room service and sex it is. When?”

“I get off work at six.”

“So, seven?”

I managed to nod.

“Where?”

I gave him the name of the best place in town. “I can get the room,” I said, though it would bankrupt me and delay my leaving another two weeks. But it would be well worth it to crawl into bed with a man who would fill my daydreams for the rest of my life.

“I’ll get the room,” he assured me, the curl of his lip intoxicating. “So, seven for sure?”

“Seven would be just fine.”

His eyes were all over me, and I heard his breath catch. “God, I really hope you’re a—”

“Top,” I said, needing that to be clear from the get-go. I had never trusted anyone enough to bottom for them, and I certainly wasn’t going to start with some stranger I wanted to fuck, no matter how hot he was.

“That’s good.”

“Should I bring rope?” I teased him, to see how far I could push it.

“Whatever you want, as long as you fuck me.”

It was going to be a hell of an evening. “No worries about that. Until tonight, then.”

“Until tonight,” he repeated but didn’t move.

Everyone else was inside, and the SUV sat parallel to the drive and was big enough to obscure every view from the house. So I leaned out of the window. “You wanna have a taste of me now?”

In answer, he dropped his duffel bag, grabbed my face with both hands, and looked at me. “Give me your tongue,” he ordered, and I realized for a bottom, the man was damn bossy.

I had a second to smile before his lips met mine, crushing, greedy, rough, just how I liked it.

My gasp of pleasure was cut off, leaving me to moan deeply into his mouth, a sound that brought a rumble of desire up from his chest. He took what he wanted, and I let him, the kiss demanding and hard, his tongue stroking, tangling, pushing in deeper as he tasted and nibbled, ravaging my lips like I belonged to him.

When I shoved him off, we were both panting.

“Jesus,” he gasped, his big, soft brown eyes wet, his lips swollen and dark as he swallowed.