Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
WILDER
W ilder’s heart was so full it ached. Cash had been so unwittingly kind to him all day. He’d defended him in front of Gary that morning, comforted him and calmed his ensuing panic, saved the snack cakes Wilder had been too stressed to remember. Bringing him here, to his favorite spot on the ranch, was the first time a human being had made him feel welcome here since he arrived two months ago. The only other time he didn’t feel ready to crawl out of his skin was while he was astride Blaze. Kindness was a rare bird, and he wasn’t accustomed to accepting it.
He held the box of cakes with reverence as he scooted back to sit beside Cash. The night around them was dark and quiet, but the half-moon provided enough light for him to see Cash’s handsome face. Dark stubble dusted his jaw, and since they’d both left their hats in the car, Wilder got a rare look at the short fade on his head.
“We’re having a nighttime picnic,” Wilder said.
“No,” Cash replied matter-of-factly. “Not at all. A picnic implies a meal. This is a snack. If you want a picnic, you’ll have to plan the next outing.”
Electricity sparked down Wilder’s spine. “The next one?”
Cash’s lips quirked, and he ducked his head. “Yeah, y’know, if you want to do something like this again. I wasn’t sure if it was your thing, but I thought…”
“You thought?” Wilder prompted, breathless.
“That you might like it. Spending time out in the open, surrounded by nature.”
“It is a lovely view,” Wilder agreed. He’d certainly developed a healthy appreciation for a sight that wasn’t interrupted by iron bars and chainlink fences.
“So, want to open up the box, give one a try?” Cash prompted, nudging him with his elbow.
He really did, although his excitement for the food paled in comparison to the all-encompassing sense of satisfaction he felt from being in Cash’s steadfast presence. If this man had been in his life when he was eighteen, he might’ve turned out entirely different. He made Wilder want to slow down, appreciate what was in front of him and mend the chip on his shoulder.
When he tore into the box, he handed a package to Cash, who chuckled as he took it. Their fingers brushed, and their eyes met for a lingering moment. The tension between them was as thick as a January snow.
Stuffing the wrappers back into the box, they bit into their treats at the same time. Wilder stretched his legs out as he chewed, crossing them at the ankle and then laying all the way back so he could look up at the stars. Cash followed suit a moment later. The Twinkie was just as ridiculously sweet as he remembered, with fluffy yellow cake and a sweet, creamy middle. When he finished it off, he licked his fingers and reached into the box over his head to grab another.
“You want another one?” he asked Cash, who laughed.
“No, I think one was enough for me. Help yourself. I take it they’re as good as you remember?”
“Wonderful and terrible all at the same time, really,” he said, tearing the wrapper open and stuffing half of it into his mouth, to a snort of amusement from Cash. “They didn’t have much in the way of sweets in prison, so I don’t have the tolerance for the richness that I used to. But hell yeah, they’re still good.”
Cash raised up on his elbow and smiled down at him. “Good. I’m glad. You can come with me again if you’d like, pick out something else you want.”
Wilder’s stomach turned at the thought—or maybe the second cake wasn’t sitting as well as the first—and shook his head. “Naw, I couldn’t. Gary doesn’t want me there.”
“All the more reason for you to come with me. I told him to leave you alone. If he doesn’t, we won’t be doing business there anymore. It’d be a good test to see if he’s a man of his word.”
Those words didn’t compute. Wilder blindly stuffed the wrapper back into the box and looked closely at Cash. “What?”
“The ranch sells him some of its angus beef, Wilder. We’ve done business with his store for years. But if he’s not willing to let bygones be bygones, we can sell our meat somewhere else. I won’t have him mistreating any of our employees, no matter who they are.”
He couldn’t imagine Lain would abide something like that, not just for Wilder. “Lain wouldn’t…”
“If I asked him to, he would. He values my judgment, and if I tell him there’s a problem, he’d accept it.”
“Gary’s is the oldest grocery store in town,” Wilder said. “Why would you do that for me?”
Cash cradled the side of his face, and a needy shudder rattled Wilder’s bones. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever touched him so softly, like he was something to be cherished. A sea of starlight reflected in Cash’s warm gaze, each one fitting into the cracks of his broken soul and filling them with golden light.
“Because,” Cash’s honey-sweet voice rolled down his spine, “in case you haven’t noticed, I like you.”
Wilder’s mouth was dry. He felt like a teenager again. Was this a date? Had Cash brought him on his very first real date, and Wilder was too stupid to realize that’s what it was because his brain didn’t operate like normal people’s anymore?
“Cash,” he breathed, his hand finding Cash’s side and fitting into that space that seemed made for him. He tangled his fingers in the fabric of Cash’s chambray shirt.
Cash leaned in, his whiskey brown eyes falling to Wilder’s mouth. “Say that again. I love the way my name sounds when you say it.”
Blazing heat burned through him, turning every other thought to ash. All that existed in the world was Cash’s hungry gaze, the warmth of his hand on Wilder’s face and the strong length of his body lined up beside his own. Much closer and they would be tangled together. There were probably a dozen reasons why they shouldn’t do this, but Wilder couldn’t remember a single one right now, not with Cash occupying his every sense.
“Cash,” he said again, weaker this time. A part of him hated the needy pitch in his own voice, but he stopped caring when it spurred Cash into motion.
Cash’s lips sealed against his own, and Wilder felt like a lit firework, like sparks shot from his fingers and toes. Something caught fire inside his breastbone, and he turned his head, pressing into it, turning it hard and hungry. His hands left Cash’s shirt to slide around his back instead, closing the space between their bodies. Cash’s interest was a hard bulge against his hip, and his own body responded in kind. Desperately, achingly hard.
He didn’t realize he was shaking until their lips parted and Cash pressed their foreheads together, murmuring, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re okay.”
Some little sound left him, like a whimper, and when Wilder’s head fell back, it didn’t meet the hard truck bed but Cash’s protective forearm instead. Cash left soft kisses on his jaw, and Wilder turned his head, taking those kisses to his mouth instead. Each one was sweeter than Twinkies.
When they parted again, Cash smiled down at him. “See? I like you a little bit.”
Wilder laughed, curling up to hide it in the curve of Cash’s neck. “God knows why.”
“I know why,” Cash said. “You’re amazing.”
“No the fuck I’m not.” He was rotten on the inside. Always had been. The rest of the world had made it clear that only a rotten son of a bitch could have done the things he’d done to survive.
Cash scowled at him. “Don’t argue with me.”
“You’re not the boss of me here,” Wilder shot back, smiling.
Cash softened immediately. “No, definitely not. I don’t want to be the foreman here, and I don’t want you to be one of my hands. I just want to be us .”
“Why?” Wilder rasped. “Why me? You could have anyone.”
“I told you. I think you’re amazing. I think you have a good heart. I think you’re loyal to the people that matter to you. If you don’t believe me, look at Blaze. Horses have a good sense for people. He wouldn’t trust you if you were unworthy.”
Wilder opened his mouth to argue, but Cash cut him off with another searing kiss that curled his toes and sent his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. He’d never been kissed like this, like Cash needed him more than air. It was a sentiment he shared, as he canted his head to one side and opened his mouth to tangle their tongues together. Cash raised up, plundering Wilder’s mouth and using a knee to urge his legs apart. Cash’s weight settled between his legs, and all the breath rushed from Wilder’s lungs as their bodies lined up from chest to groin.
He was frighteningly vulnerable like this with Cash’s substantial weight pressing down on him and his body open and unprotected. He would never have allowed someone on top of him like this in prison—the risks weren’t worth whatever momentary pleasure he might’ve gotten out of it. Hyper-vigilance was key to survival behind bars. He could never have relaxed while pinned by another man like this. He’d dallied in furtive touches, but he’d never let himself get close, not for a moment.
When Cash rocked his hips, grinding their bulges together, Wilder’s head fell back against his arm with a gasp.
“This okay?” Cash asked gruffly, doing it again.
“God yeah,” Wilder said, licking into Cash’s mouth. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
“I won’t.”
Pleasure coiled in Wilder’s gut as Cash moved in a slow, sinuous rhythm, swallowing Wilder’s moans with slick, hungry kisses. It was the best fucking thing Wilder had ever felt, and they still had their clothes on. He’d never been this frantic for another human being before, that the simple act of thrusting against each other was enough to send the heat building under his skin. His thighs flexed, arching up against Cash for deeper, harder thrusts, more friction, something .
“Cash, please,” he whined.
“Tell me.” Cash’s voice was breathless, his body taut with need.
“Take—take these off. Let me feel you.” He plucked at the waistband of Cash’s jeans, and Cash groaned, like the prospect of moving away long enough to shuck their jeans was too much to bear.
Laughing, Wilder slipped his hands between their bodies, grabbing Cash’s belt buckle and tugging. “How in the hell does this thing come off?”
Chuckling against the skin of Wilder’s neck, Cash’s hand joined Wilder’s and deftly removed his belt buckle with a quiet jangle. Electricity buzzed under Wilder’s skin as Cash worked his way down his body, rucking his shirt up under his arms and kissing his chest, sucking a beaded nipple into his mouth as he loosened Wilder’s belt and fly and tugged them down urgently, freeing his length to the cool night air. It would be cold without the warm blanket of Cash’s body against his.
“I’m clean, just so you know,” Cash said. “I get tested any time I sleep with someone, and the last one was a few months before you arrived.”
“That is—very good to know,” Wilder said. “I’m clean, too. They tested us in prison every so often, and the last one was right before I got out.”
“Oh, good,” Cash said lightly. He sucked a red mark into Wilder’s hip, then kissed his way over and licked a long, wet stripe up Wilder’s cock.
Cash took Wilder into his mouth like he intended to savor him, humming under his breath as he sucked him deeper and deeper. Wilder gasped, his fingers twisting in the blanket below him as Cash’s head bobbed. He stared up at the stars as pleasure filled every nerve ending, lighting him up like a beacon and burning away every dark corner. He felt exposed, flayed open under Cash’s expert touch. His eyes beaded with tears, and he was grateful for the cloaking darkness that surrounded them, too afraid of what might happen if Cash were to notice.
No one had ever taken this kind of care with him. Cash’s hands explored his body, moving up and down his thighs, over his hips and stomach to his ribs and chest, like he was greedy for every inch of skin he could find. He was so unaccustomed to this overwhelming kind of touch, he knew he wouldn’t last.
His body wound tight, and he uttered some strangled sound that was meant to be a warning as his pleasure reached its crest. Cash moaned around his length as he swallowed his seed, Wilder writhing in an attempt not to thrust up into the heat of his mouth.
He shuddered as Cash kissed his way up his body to his lips, kissing him sweetly. Cash’s hand brushed Wilder’s abdomen, and he realized he’d taken himself in hand. Wilder reached down, batting Cash’s hand away and taking over, wanting to feel the way it jerked when he came.
It didn’t take long. Cash kissed him sloppily, all tongues and lips and slick, wet heat, and when he spilled over Wilder’s fingers, his groan rumbled low out of his throat, pressing his tongue deep inside, like he wanted to fuse them together as much as possible. As their bodies cooled, the kisses slowed, turning gentler and sweeter. Wilder had never felt so adored by another person.
Cash parted from him with a cheeky smile and then whipped a handkerchief from his back pocket. He wiped the smears of his cum from Wilder’s stomach with it, and Wilder laughed.
“Not what you were expecting to use that for, I imagine,” he murmured.
“Nope.” He tossed it to the side and laid down beside him. “But no complaints.”
They both tucked themselves back inside their jeans—it was too cold to leave anything hanging out—and Cash unceremoniously dragged Wilder over and wrapped him in his arms. Wilder thought about protesting, as he’d never been one for post-coital cuddling, but his halfhearted protest died on his tongue when Cash’s warmth seeped into his bones. Maybe cuddling wasn’t so bad.
This would probably need to be addressed at some point. What did Cash think this was, and what consequences would follow if Lain found out? Wilder doubted Lain would be okay with his foreman sleeping with the employees—and his brother , at that. It might not be safe for them to do this again, but Wilder wasn’t unfamiliar with the ephemeral nature of happiness. He’d make do.