Chapter 12
Noah
It takes me a prolonged second to register what’s happening.
I’d been feeling bad about the hurt I saw on Colton’s face when I won the Shoein’. When he looked as if I’d personally kicked his puppy right in front of him.
But all that lingering concern I was holding on to? Shattered to dust the moment Colton goddamn Darling barged into my sanctuary without warning or invitation.
And now my hand is around his neck, and Colton—this man who’s made no secret of despising my very existence—is getting hard against my thigh.
He’s hard.
Turned on, undeniably.
And he looks scared to death of it.
Colton shoves me, and I quickly let go, taking a step back. My hand burns where it was touching his skin, and I shake it out, only to stutter a step in surprise when Colton comes at me again.
“Don’t,” I say, trying to brush off his advance. “Walk out the door, Colt.”
He doesn’t. He tries to grab me, and I twist his arm, pinning it between us as I tug his back to my chest. He inhales sharply, going still, the scent of leather and citrus washing over me with his proximity. His breathing is labored, and my own starts to match.
“Is this what you want?” I ask at a rumble. “To fight?”
He doesn’t say a word, so I let him go again, only to grunt when the heel of Colton’s boot lands on my foot. I shove him forward against the table, his palms slapping the surface and my own quickly following to keep him down. An involuntary noise leaves his mouth, and my body flashes hot in an instant.
We both freeze, our breaths the only sound in the barn.
I shift my hips, an unconscious action that has me rubbing against Colton’s ass, and he moans , his head dropping forward.
“Is this what you want?” I ask in disbelief. We’re so close his hair is tickling my face, the waves spilling forward to hide his features. “You want me to keep you pinned?”
“No,” he says halfheartedly, the word barely audible.
I look down over Colton’s shoulder. “Your dick says otherwise.”
He bucks back against me, but I grip him harder. Colton makes another sound, wounded almost, like surrender. His back heaves beneath my chest, the man shaking. “And yours doesn’t?” he grinds out.
Oh, my dick likes this a hell of a lot, apparently. Colton Darling, at my mercy, trembling beneath me like a lamb waiting for slaughter.
“Do you want me to touch you?” I whisper against his ear.
He grunts, not a no, and I pull one of his hands off the table, pressing it over his crotch with my own. Colton’s breath shudders out of him.
“Beg me for it, little Colt.”
“Fuck you.”
I let out a contemplative hum. “Not this time.”
Colton stills, but it only lasts until I press his palm harder against his dick. He moans, his body sagging.
“I want to hear you beg,” I tell him, running my nose through the hair near his ear. “Tell me to touch you.”
“Hate you,” he mutters.
“So you say,” I soothe, rubbing his hand up and down over the denim of his jeans. Up and down. “But I’m still not going to touch you unless you beg for it.”
“ God ,” he spits, some of that fire returning. “You’re insufferable. I don’t…”
He cuts off, and I still the motion of our hands, waiting for more words that don’t come.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, entirely serious.
“Fuck. Fuck ,” he nearly shouts. “Put your hand on my dick already.”
“The magic word?”
“ Please , you fucker.”
My smile is a slow thing. “There we go. Was that so difficult?”
Colton groans as I let go of his hand, his sound not one of pleasure. But then I’m popping the button on his jeans and sliding down the zipper, and his breathing picks up. He plants his palm back on the table, and I draw my lips down his neck, satisfied when he shivers.
I don’t stop to think about the fact that I’ve never touched a dick other than my own. I slide my hand along the fabric of his underwear, over the unmistakable hardness of his shaft, and squeeze. Colton lets out a stuttered moan, and I grin into the curve of his neck.
“So hard for me,” I whisper.
He sounds as if he wants to argue, but I slip my fingers inside his briefs, and the sound promptly chokes out.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, fuck.”
He tries to hitch into my grip, but with the way the tops of his thighs are pressed into the table, he can’t manage it. I run my fingers down the underside of his cock slowly, his skin incredibly warm, the length of him nearly spanning my entire hand.
“Not so little,” I murmur, sinking my teeth into his neck as I wrap my fist around him.
Colton grunts, his entire body jerking, his cock throbbing against my palm. I swear I can feel his pulse. Against my fingers. On my tongue.
I release his neck and press my face into his hair again. Colton’s scent hits me. It doesn’t surprise me that he smells like leather, like tack and all the equipment we work with on a daily basis. The citrus must be his body wash.
“I like the way you’re shaking,” I tell him, stroking his shaft slowly. So slowly I’m surprised he hasn’t complained about it yet.
“Shut up,” he mutters.
“Mm. No thanks. Do you want me to go faster?”
“I want you to stop talking.”
“Why? So you can pretend I’m a girl? Doesn’t work like that, Colt.”
He shakes his head, the movement minute. “So I can pretend it’s not you .”
I huff a harsh laugh. “You like that it’s me. Otherwise you would have stormed out that door the first chance you got.”
He whimpers when I smooth his precum down his shaft.
“Oh, you love it, all right,” I murmur, finding his earlobe and drawing it between my teeth.
“You’re like a fucking…horse,” he says between breathes. “Nibbling me.”
He swats my hip, as if to tell me off, but then his hand goes right back to the table, supporting his weight. I squeeze the other to remind him he’s not going anywhere, not that I think he’ll try. His answering moan is like poetry to my ears.
“You know what I think?” I ask him, my hand gliding over his cock smoothly now. He’s leaking like a faucet. “I think it has to be me. Because who else wouldn’t be afraid to hold you down? Wouldn’t care if it hurt a little? Who else could overpower you. Every. Single. Time?”
His breathing kicks up.
“Does that scare you?” I ask.
He shakes his head in a little jerk.
“It excites you.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Well,” I say lowly, squeezing his dick in a way that has him groaning, “you know what I like?”
“Don’t…care.”
“Manners, little Colt.”
I nip the tender spot at his neck before letting his hand go to tug his head to the side. Colton stills once more, the line of his neck exposed, the side of his face finally bared to me, all blinking blue eyes and rough stubble.
Guess that long hair is useful after all.
“I like feeling you squirm beneath me,” I tell him, palming the head of his cock before stroking again, a little faster, my knuckles brushing against the fabric of his briefs. “I like how eager you are for my hand on your cock. I like the sound you make when I do this.”
Colton lets out a breathy moan as I rub myself against his ass, his body bowing further over the table. He has to feel how hard I am. Has to know this isn’t one-sided.
“But you know what I like best?” I ask, rubbing my nose along that stubbled jaw.
He screws his eyes shut, his cock so hard in my fist he has to be close.
“I like the sound of that please on your lips. Say it again.”
“Fuck off,” he moans.
“Do you wanna come?”
He lets out a stuttered cry when I stop stroking him, instead rubbing my thumb along the top of his dick. He licks his lips, eyes still shut.
“Say it, Colt.”
“You’re an ass,” he says with feeling.
“Funny. That didn’t sound like ‘please.’”
“God,” he pants. “I already begged once. What do you want from me? You really need me to humiliate myself further?”
“No,” I say firmly, giving his cock a single, smooth stroke. “I want you to know that all you have to do is ask and it’s yours.”
He pulls in a breath, his eyes flying open, even as they stare straight ahead at the inside of my barn.
“Please,” he finally says. “Make me come. Please, goddamn it. Please .”
My own eyes slip shut, my breath leaving me as I find Colton’s neck. I press my lips there, jerking him off with intention, the same way I would myself. His body stiffens, breaths coming out in little fits and bursts as he edges closer to orgasm. When he inhales on a gasp, I fit my teeth to his skin and twist my wrist.
Colton spills in a flash, coating my fingers, as well as the inside of his briefs. He moans through it, the sound unabashed and surprised in a way I understand. My own cock throbs, wanting in the face of its neglect, and I allow myself a single rut against Colton’s backside before easing off. I slow my hand, stopping only when he has nothing left to give, and then I remove it entirely.
I don’t let go of the man. Not right away. I wipe my palm over my shirt before grabbing his hip to hold him steady, watching what I can of the expressions that flit over his face.
“Okay?” I check.
He draws his head around, dislodging my grip from his hair. Colton doesn’t answer, only clears his throat and gives me a decisive shove backwards. I let go and watch as he zips up his jeans, not meeting my gaze. His cheeks are red, that scowl I’m so used to seeing absent.
I’m not sure I like this better.
“Colt…”
He shoves past me, disappearing through the barn doors without a single word. I let him run. Of course I do.
I mutter a curse as I put my things to rights. The gloves that got knocked to the ground. The table that skidded a good several inches over. The forge is cooling now, the fire long since dead.
With a sigh, I look down at my hand and the remnants of what just happened. There’s no doubt in my mind I got off on pushing Colton goddamn Darling over the edge, even though I didn’t get off at all. Does that make me bi? Does it matter?
A single shared orgasm certainly doesn’t turn us into friends. Doesn’t even make me like the guy.
I’ve been enemies with Colton Darling since nearly the moment I stepped foot in this town. Back when we were barely men at all. Kids, really. Both of us stupid, maybe. But him crueler than I ever expected.
It should be water under the bridge by now. I shouldn’t care how Colton is feeling after letting me jerk him off in my barn.
But when the fuck do feelings ever truly make sense?