Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Fucking Christ. Madre de Dios.
Sam had literally gotten it on with the pseudo-uncle of his daughter’s baby daddy.
He was pretty sure that in some countries that was illegal.
He was going to do it again though, no question.
That had been like one of eighteen or twenty fantasies that had come to life right there in his kitchen.
And Sam?
While he was aware this whole thing was wildly inappropriate, also found himself not giving a flying fuck, because there was a massive, pretty, hockey player napping in his bed, naked.
He got to explore—scars and muscles for days and tattoos—and, damn, Sam appreciated those.
He had a couple of own on his back, one on the back of his neck.
Evan had lots.
Lots of both that was, scars and tattoos.
The tats weren’t all hockey-related either, although some of them seemed to be maybe team logo kinds of things.
There were also ravens and what looked like vines and flowers?
Nothing tribal. This was expensive shit.
It probably cost more than Sam’s first fifth wheel.
There was a surgery scar on his back that anybody who was in Sam’s line of work understood.
Sam fingered it for a minute, pondering what that meant.
Bull fighters went back to work with a broken back, but this hockey player hadn’t.
He wondered if Evan’d had to have therapy to get over that because he hadn’t chosen to retire and been forced to.
Lord knew Sam had seen that with enough bull riders to know that it caused mental scars, too.
It was a stone-cold bitch—getting hurt, not getting paid, and having to get your shit back together, only to know you couldn’t get back to work? Damn. It was one of the things that he dreaded.
He was on the old end of bull fighting, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew it wasn’t gonna be much longer that he would be doing this job.
He would never be the head bull fighter, but he did make the finals, because Kacey couldn’t do it. Those bulls were stronger, faster, and Kacey had been on the bad end of too many wrecks. Kacey worked, and worked hard, but they all knew that they were holding up the ends of the man’s rope.
Sam wasn’t broke dick. He had land. He had family, investments, livestock. Still, he wasn’t wealthy, and he was gonna have to get back to work when he was done being the rodeo guy.
That was depressing.
He didn’t need to think about that anymore. He could think about that anytime.
Right now, he was going to think about the sheer size of the son of a bitch in his bed, and how much fun it was going to be to ride him into the mattress. Those things were way more fun to ponder.
He traced a vine on Evan’s back with one finger, light as anything.
He let it be like a meditation.
A weird sort of prayer for good fortune, peace, and great sex.
Evan chuckled softly. “Feels good.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“No? You did, but it wasn’t a bad thing. I can think of worse ways to wake up.”
“Oh good, It would suck if you thought waking up to me was horrifying. Eee-a-la, what an ugly son of a bitch.”
Evan snorted and turned to face him more fully. “Like I would think that. I think you’re stunning, man.”
“Yeah, you’re not just settling for what’s available?” He was kind of teasing, but he also kind of wanted to be told he was special.
“Fuck no. If I was going to do that, I could have had a hundred hookups in Boston.”
“Yeah, well, that’s your home territory, and I didn’t know how out you were there.”
Evan snorted. “I’m not exactly hiding it these days. And I’m not exactly advertising it either—not to some of the people I work with. It’s still a hard-core macho sport, hockey.”
“Tell me about it.” He understood that. There was a lot of gay sex going on at the rodeo and bull riding, but nobody talked about it. Everybody just said it was a thing you did when you were on the road, and then you went home to your girl.
But Sam didn’t have a girl. Neither did Kacey, for that matter. And nobody gave them shit about it.
“But you’re special, Sam. It would probably be smarter not to get involved with you, because I imagine it could get sticky, but it doesn’t matter. I want you anyway.” Evan slid a hand up his back and around his neck, then grabbed him and pulled him forward for a kiss.
That contact lit him right up all over again, and he wanted to… He didn’t know what to do, yell, turn Evan onto his back, and climb on for a long ol’ ride.
Madre de Dios, the man was beautiful.
“Are you ready to have another go around?” Evan asked, as if he read his mind, pulling him up over top of that broad, hard body.
“Almost, but not quite.”
Those dark bronze eyebrows rose up over Evan’s slate blue eyes, and he stared as if he couldn’t believe Sam had said that.
He laughed, patting Evan’s cheek. “What I mean is, let me grab the condoms and lube before we get too busy to be interrupted.”
Evan jerked underneath him, that body bucking hard. “Fuck, why didn’t you say that? I mean, you did say that, but you should have said it to begin with.”
“Well, you know, I am a man of few words.” He leaned across to the bedside table to pull out a little string of condoms and a tube of lube. He tore one condom off and then set it aside along with the lube, so when they got ready, they could get ready, so to speak.
Evan started touching, one hand sliding down his back and up his thighs, grabbing his ass. “I’m learning all sorts of stuff about you. I like it.”
Sam’s cheeks heated, his lips parted. “I like it, too. It’s dangerous.”
“It is, but we’ve both proven that we like to live dangerously. We’ve got the scars to prove it.”
That had him hooting out a laugh, because Evan’s eyes were full of mischief, and he was grinning to beat the band. Sam liked this guy. He didn’t just want him. Evan was funny, smart, and honest.
And that was one of the most important things to him, that honesty. He hated to play games. He hated not knowing where he stood. He wanted what they called transparency these days.
Folks used a lot of twenty-five cent words where decent would suffice.
Evan got him pulled up where they could have a nice, long, slow kiss. That revved his engine, making his cock hard and his muscles tense up.
His breath hung in his chest, and he shivered. Both of them started to do a little rocking, a little rolling. This time was different—they weren’t as desperate, not as curious.
They knew how each other smelled.
Sam had to wonder where Evan stood in the whole pitching and catching part of this whole fucking thing. He wondered if there was going to be a conversation, or if they were going to feel each other out, pun intended.
Sam was willing and able, either way. He hadn’t had a lot of guys who wanted to do that, and he got it.
That was a trust thing.
He kept petting, loving how Evan was fuzzy where he was smooth, rippled and thick where he was more planes and angles.
Evan winked at him. “I don’t have that pretty waxed look.”
“Shit, guapo, I ain’t waxing. Mine’s natural. Genetic.” Sam winked at Evan. “I don’t mind it. It’s nice. I like that in a guy.”
He got himself a double handful of those reddish blond curls and tugged a bit—not hard. Just hard enough to sting and make Evan feel it.
“Mmm. Good. A lot of guys want manscaping.” Evan licked along his neck, then bit his collarbone. “How do you want me?”
Oh, he could think of a million ways. But he settled for, “Lube me up. I can take it just fine.”
“Mmm. I can go either way, too. But I’m happy to fuck you into the middle of next week.”
Hell, yes. He grinned when Evan pulled back to get the lube, and then they were getting good and ready, Evan slicking up those fingers to work him open, him struggling with the condom to put it on that long, thick cock.
Before long, he was on his back with his knees up by his chest, and Evan was between his legs, that cock sliding against his hole. Dios, it was hot.
And the way that Evan looked at him—it was like the man thought he’d have hung the moon.
“You ready to ride, cowboy?” Evan asked him, and he would have laughed at that because it was probably cheesy, but he didn’t care. He didn’t feel like laughing.
“I’ve been in the saddle once today. I can do it again.”
Evan chuckled for him and bent down, the kiss almost, but not quite tender. The heavy head of his prick brushed against his hole, making his eyes cross.
“If you want to stop, just say the word.”
He rolled his eyes. “Man, I’m not breakable. Show me what you can do.”
He’d faced up against bulls, pissed-off cowboys, and assholes who wanted to cause trouble when there didn’t need to be any. This was nothing.
Well, it was maybe something.
God knew he felt it when Evan pushed inside him and stretched him wide. The burn had his belly tightening. He didn’t make a sound, just breathed through it because he knew the stretch would ease.
“Jesus Christ, you’re tight.” Evan bit the words out through teeth clenched so tight it had to hurt. “You good?”
He nodded, winked. “I got this. You’re damn solid though.”
“A man likes to hear that.”
Evan found a rhythm then—sliding in and out with tiny increments, and he started matching each and every thrust, his toes curling as he did.
Evan wasn’t quiet—he didn’t hear a lot of real words, but he got moans and grunts and little whimpers.
Those sounds were just the thing to make everything even better, driving the passion up a million times.
Once they got a good rhythm going, he took it like he would being in the saddle, rocking back, back and forth, letting his hips and legs do all the work.
That and his abs.
And his glutes, because his ass was working like he was doing squats.
He planted his feet against the mattress and lifted up, smacking right into Evan as he thrust into him, and they both cried out in unison.
They’d known each other a handful of days, but he couldn’t imagine not doing this right now, not needing his balls to draw up, his cock to ache, the pulse in the back of his skull to throb.
He reached to grip Evan’s shoulders, pulling himself in for another kiss. Evan fucked his mouth with that hot tongue like he was fucking him somewhere else, and the combination made it hard to breathe, made his ears ring.
Sam swallowed, clamping on to Evan’s shoulders harder, a deep cry filling his ears, even as he bore down trying to give Evan all the passion he had, all the need that had been begging for someone to spend it on.
Evan panted and growled, deep in his chest. “Close man. I’m so fucking close.”
“Hell yes. It’s about time.” He reached down and grabbed his own cock, started stroking good and steady, giving himself the extra friction he needed.
Evan grabbed hold of the headboard and started slamming into him, gaze where his hand was dragging on his prick as he jacked himself off. Someone liked to watch, didn’t he?
Sam pushed his cock away from his belly, thumb working the shaft and the tip, one after the other, moving fast and hard. Giving himself more, dragging himself toward the edge.
“Don’t stop. Fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty.”
He didn’t snort, because he didn’t have either the brain power or the breath to do so.
There was no way he was going to stop either. Not until this freight train derailed or whatever the correlation was between and coming, if there was one.
God help him, he was thinking about trains. That was ridiculous. He looked up to meet Evan’s gaze, and that was about all she wrote. Especially when Evan changed the angle and slammed into him so hard he saw stars.
Sam jacked himself once more, maybe twice, and then he came all over the damn place crying out loud and hoping that no one else had managed to get inside the house while they were doing this.
Evan thrust deep one more time, and then his head dropped forward on his neck, a long moan sounding as Evan filled him up deep, Sam able to feel every single jet even with a condom on.
Wheezing, Evan hung there for a few minutes, his arms shaking, and then he dropped to one side, snatching the condom at the last minute so it would slide out along with him.
He sat there kind of blinking at Evan, staring for a second before closing his eyes and blowing out a long breath. “Damn.”
“I hear you. That was wild. A great post-nap occupation.”
He grinned at Evan. “Except that now I want another nap, and I can’t because I got stuff to do.”
“Right? We’ve got to, uh, pack the trailer.”
He shook his head. “We have to look at the trailer and see what needs to be packed, make lists and shit, but we don’t have to do that right this second.”
“Thank God for that. I don’t think I can move. I’m pretty sure that my bones are melted, and, I have to tell you, it’s really challenging to walk around with melted bones.”
Sam snorted once with laughter and then let it take him — hard, happy sounds that filled the air and shook the bed.
“Man, if we’re going to do this in the trailer, is everybody outside going to know?” Evan actually seemed concerned.
He shrugged. “If the trailer’s rocking, don’t come knocking?”
He had no idea. He’d never had sex in the trailer. He usually had a little girl in the trailer with him.
“Don’t worry, guapo. I’ll just make sure and park it in the farthest back of whatever park we end up at. Fair enough?”
Evan nodded to him. “You are a brilliant guy.”
“I know it. You want to go clean off and then come back here and be lazy for a little while longer?”
“God, yes, I think we’re both a little crusty or about to be.” He then kissed the tip of his nose, which made him blink a bit. Because it seemed like such a fond thing to do. Then again, he didn’t think Evan was that standoffish.
So they rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He thought it was pretty cool to be having this kind of thing right in the middle of the day.
Sam could only hope he still had the chance to do it after there was a new baby in the house.