McLeod, Anitra Lynn - Dirty Cowboy (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Page 3

  Like Everett had earlier, Dalton didn’t wait for the shakes to leave him before he hauled Everett up and kissed him.

  “You, I want you,” Dalton said between kisses.

  “You’ve got me,” Everett returned, laughing at Dalton’s possessiveness and his own overwhelming feelings of joy. Usually, when all was said and done, his lovers had flashed him guilty looks as they made their escape. Not a one had wanted to stick around and talk, let alone cling to him with an air of coupling up.

  “I want to stay here.” Dalton hugged him so hard Everett squeaked.

  “Right here? Well, hell, I don’t think we can—”

  Dalton didn’t let him finish. He pushed him onto his back and pressed their spent cocks together. “We can if we want to. Say we can.”

  Confused, Everett soothed his hand over Dalton’s back. “Sure. Yeah. We can.” But he knew it was a lie. They couldn’t just set up a homestead because they felt like it. There were laws, and this land was probably owned by someone. Everett didn’t even know exactly where here was. Still, as soon as he agreed, Dalton calmed, and pressed his head against Everett’s shoulder.

  “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Dalton voice was muffled, but still crystal clear.

  Now Everett thought he understood. Dalton didn’t mean here, specifically, but here more figuratively, like here in each other’s arms. Everett wasn’t certain, but he thought someone had abandoned Dalton at this spring. Maybe they took what they wanted from him then cast him aside. That scenario would explain why he was naked and how he’d given pleasure but never got any. Everett had been on the receiving end of that kind of cruelty. Now it was Everett who hugged Dalton so hard he squeaked. He’d seen his fair share of meanness in the world, but nothing so vicious as stripping a man bare and leaving him in the middle of nowhere.

  Rolling over, and then again so he was on top of him, Everett looked down into haunted eyes. “You’re not alone anymore.” Everett balanced his weight on his arms. “I wouldn’t leave you for all the whisky in the world. Hell, I can’t think of anything that would make me walk away.”

  Hope chased away the despair that had clouded Dalton’s gaze.

  “Now, let’s get some food going, and set up a place to sleep. Maybe I can even get cleaned up a bit.” If nothing else, Everett thought he should take advantage of the warm night and the nearness of the water to wash his clothes. As much as he thought Dalton was genuine in liking his trail-dusty earthiness, he wanted to be good and clean for the down and dirty things they would do later.

  “But there’s more I want to give unto you.” Dalton’s words shot another jolt of pure energy right down to Everett’s prick.

  Grinning, Everett said, “Don’t worry, we’ll have all the time you want to give unto one another, but if we don’t eat, we won’t have the strength to do what I have in mind.”

  Dalton’s eyes went wide, and so did his smile. “We should eat then.”

  “Yeah.” Everett kissed him then sat up quick before they could get to tussling again. If he wasn’t careful, it would be incredibly easy to forget everything and just sex himself to death with this man.

  Reluctantly, he fastened his trousers and climbed out of the wagon. Turning back, he pointed at the pants. “As much as I can’t believe I’m going to say this, I think you should put those on. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to get anything made for supper.”

  Flashing that wicked grin that Everett had already grown accustomed to, Dalton jumped out of the wagon and shimmied his way into the pants. The brown canvas trousers were a little tight on him. Everett couldn’t help but notice that his cock created an interesting bulge in the front.

  “Damn. They never looked that good on me.” He admired the way the fabric molded to his muscular legs, then sighed. “Naked or clothed, you seem to be mighty distracting.”

  “I can cook.”

  “Yeah?” Everett hooked his finger into the waistband and pulled Dalton close. “What do you know how to cook?”

  “Stew.” Dalton wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I’ll take care of supper while you clean up.”

  “I thought you liked me this way.”

  “There is nothing I like more than a dirty cowboy, but I know it bothers you. Now go.” Releasing him, Dalton gave him a little push toward the spring.

  “Dirty cowboy? You were the one laying in the dirt.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Everett wanted to slap himself upside the head.

  Despair turned right around and ate up all the hope in Dalton’s eyes.

  “Aw, damn. I didn’t mean—” Knowing that whatever he said would probably only make matters worse, Everett shut his mouth, cupped the back of Dalton’s head, and kissed him. Not hard, not demanding, but very soft, like an apology without words.

  Everett knew it was the right thing to do when Dalton relaxed against him. Still, Everett was afraid to leave him in such a tender state.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Dalton locked his gaze on Everett’s. “Go wash up. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Reluctantly, Everett left Dalton and moved toward the spring. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back. Each time he did, Dalton waved. When he reached the spring, he looked back one more time. Pure panic surged when he didn’t see Dalton anywhere.

  Chapter Five

  As if the fires of hell were lapping at his heels, Everett ran back to the clearing. On the verge of screaming more pathetically than that broken-legged cow had earlier, he clamped his lips shut when Dalton came around from the edge of the wagon with two pans and a good hunk of beef in his hands.

  “You forget something?” Dalton asked.

  Standing there dumbstruck with relief, but loath to give away the depth of his feelings, Everett nodded. Calm and cool, he climbed up into the wagon and rummaged until he found some soap. He rubbed his face, felt about a mile of stubble, but he wasn’t about to shave in the dark and slit his throat.

  While telling himself that Dalton wasn’t about to run off, especially not when he didn’t have any boots, Everett returned to the spring. Stripping down, he climbed into the water, which was surprisingly warm.

  After cleaning his body, he pulled his filthy clothes into the water and gave them as good a scrubbing as he could. Maybe it was a blessing that it was dark. He really didn’t want to see how much filth came out of his clothes after all this time on the prairie. Since he wasn’t going anywhere for awhile, he decided to give his boots a cleaning, too.

  “Everett?”

  His heart gave a funny little jump when he heard Dalton’s voice. “Yeah?”

  “I need some water.”

  “Well, come on over. I’ve got plenty.”

  Dalton slipped through the screen of trees. “I didn’t want to sneak up on you again.”

  “I appreciate that.” A sliver of moon slipped out between the clouds. Silver light caused the clearing to glow and gleamed against the blond strands in Dalton’s hair. If he were a more fanciful man, Everett might think Dalton was some kind of mythical creature, what with his stunning looks and odd way. Whatever he’d done to earn time with him, Everett was grateful.

  “Do you want me to help you scrub up?”

  Everett considered. “Naw. I’m appreciative of the offer, but if you get in here with me, I have a feeling we won’t have supper until tomorrow morning.”

  “That would make it breakfast.”

  “Yep.”

  Dalton stood there for a while, watching Everett with his head tilted to the side. “You look different wet.”

  “No doubt!” Everett laughed. “Now that I’m no longer a dirty cowboy, you still gonna want to bunk down with me?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Hell yes I want you to!” Everett wondered how he could think otherwise after what they’d done in the back of the wagon. But then again, after being discarded, it was no wonder he was a mite insecure. “Why do you think I’m getting all gussied up?”

  The grin that tran
sformed Dalton’s face caused Everett’s breath to catch. He’d never called another man pretty, but Dalton was a compelling combination of handsome and downright beautiful.

  Dalton filled two pans at the springhead where the water was clean then moseyed on back to camp. Watching his buttocks move below the tight-fitting pants caused a glut of dirty thoughts to fill Everett’s head. His body might be clean but his mind was filthy. Given how smooth and sweet Dalton’s cock had tasted, he couldn’t wait to lick him everywhere else. Everett wasn’t a betting man, but he’d lay odds that Dalton was just as perfect between his buttocks.

  If he’d never had his cock sucked, Everett figured Dalton had probably never done a lot of things, maybe even—

  “Whoa.”

  The soap shot right out of Everett’s clutching fist, making him scramble for it in the murky light. A virgin. Oh, lordy. What if Dalton was all pristine and untouched? Rising lust was tempered by a refusal to inflict any more pain on the man. If this was, in fact, Dalton’s first time, Everett swore to take the greatest care he could muster with him.

  Everett scrubbed and rubbed and rinsed. He couldn’t believe how much more human he felt after a good bath. Sort of like he was reborn. He was trying to remember the last time he’d washed up somewhere other than outdoors. And then he remembered. Just as quickly, he pushed the memory away. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t think about his childhood or his father ever again. Keeping that deal with himself had been surprisingly easy. His father was a worthless cardsharp and floozy magnet. What he’d given Everett couldn’t rightly be called a home. It was just a rented room over a saloon. Still, it hurt like a son of a bitch when his father up and left him when Everett was just barely thirteen. A decade later and the pain still lingered. No wonder he and Dalton had connected so fast and furious—they both had a deep-seated fear of being left behind.

  No matter how much he told himself that Dalton wasn’t going anywhere, Everett couldn’t resist climbing out of the water just to make sure. Dripping and chilled by the light breeze that had picked up, Everett made his way to the edge of the trees.

  Dalton was hunkered down, feeding sticks into the fire while two pots simmered. Everett ducked back into the water before Dalton saw him.

  Damn. That was the problem with change. Good for one thing usually meant bad for another. It was good that he’d finally found what he’d been looking for all his life. Problem was, now that he had Dalton, he was terrified of losing him.

  Instinctively, he knew that if he tried to tie the man down and make him stay, he would lose him. Sure, Dalton had gripped up on him the way a burr clings to a pant leg, but that didn’t soothe Everett’s fears.

  Every good thing he’d ever had vanished. Good jobs, good places to stay, good friends—poof! Gone like money in a saloon. Just once he wanted something he could call his own. Something permanent. Something that he could treasure until the day he died. What he needed was the one thing he’d never done. He needed to put down roots. If he wanted Dalton to stay with him, he had to find them a place to stay together.

  Realizing he was as clean as he was ever going to be, Everett climbed out of the spring and swaddled the blanket around his dripping body. He wrung the water from his duds, hung them up to dry, wrapped the soap in his now clean kerchief, then ambled back to camp.

  “Sit.” Dalton pointed to crate he’d settled by the fire. He took the soap-wrapped bandana from Everett’s still-dripping hand.

  Feeling spoiled, Everett settled on the makeshift chair. He grinned when he saw Dalton testing one of the pots of water.

  “Your face hurt?” After getting a handful of his stubble, Everett had no doubt that the redness on Dalton’s face was the fault of his rough beard.

  “A bit.” Dalton smiled at him. “I thought if you were going to clean up, we should get you all the way there.”

  With the delicate touch of an experienced barber, Dalton shaved him. Usually when he indulged himself with a paid shave, he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but with Dalton, he was utterly relaxed. The feel of his soapy fingers and the slick whisking of the blade was almost sensual. Dalton took his time, stroking over his neck, his cheeks, and even that notch right below his nose. If he noticed the scar under his chin, he didn’t ask after its cause, which Everett was glad for. He didn’t want to tell that story to him.

  When Dalton finished, he used the kerchief to wipe up the last of the lather, and then he leaned over and kissed him.

  “Better?” Everett asked.

  “Much.” Dalton kissed him again. And again.

  In short order, they discarded the shaving equipment and ended up with Everett leaning against the wagon and Dalton pressing close.

  When Dalton yanked away the blanket, Everett asked, “What about supper?” His nose twitched, and his belly rumbled. Whatever Dalton had made smelled better than anything he’d ever thrown together. On the other hand, having Dalton’s hands all over his face had stiffened his prick. Between his hunger for food and his craving for sex, Everett couldn’t decide which need was more pressing.

  “It’ll keep for a minute.” Dalton palmed Everett’s prick.

  “A minute? Is that all this is gonna take?”

  “Probably.” Dalton dropped to his knees and took Everett’s cock into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue was a shocking contrast to the cool night air.

  “Whoa, slow down.”

  Firelight flickered over Dalton’s hair as his head bobbed, but rather than easing up, he tugged more firmly along Everett’s cock with his mouth. When he lifted his hands, encompassing Everett’s shaft and balls, Everett couldn’t even breathe the orgasm rose up so swiftly.

  “I—my God!” Before he even knew what hit him, he climaxed good, hard, and long. So stunned was he that Everett couldn’t even move. He sagged heavily against the wagon.

  When Everett looked down, Dalton met his gaze. While looking him right in the eye, Dalton did something with his tongue, a flicking motion, that caused one last twitch that milked him dry.

  Dalton pulled back, releasing Everett’s now-spent cock with a pop. He stood and then kissed him.

  Damn if he wasn’t right. The whole thing from start to finish had probably taken less than a minute.

  Chapter Six

  “I’ve never had a better meal.” Everett nestled into the makeshift bedroll next to Dalton. It was the first time he’d ever slept naked. “Stew, biscuits, and where did you learn to make coffee like that?”

  Dalton shrugged.

  Playing was fine, but Everett was getting worried that any personal type questions he asked got shuffled off or flat-out ignored. He wasn’t sure if Dalton was hiding something or if he was ashamed.

  “Did they hurt you before they left you?” He hadn’t seen a mark on him, but some hurts didn’t leave marks.

  Rather than answer, Dalton pushed him on his back.

  “Whoa, no, not again.” As much as he wanted to let this go right where it was bound to go, he knew he wouldn’t feel right without a bit of jawing. “I want to talk to you.”

  With a huff of disappointment, Dalton rolled over onto his back. “Why can’t we talk tomorrow?”

  Everett couldn’t think of one good reason except his gut was telling him something wasn’t right. And if he didn’t figure out what was going on, he was going to either inadvertently hurt Dalton, or get hurt himself.

  “Tell me about yourself. Doesn’t have to be how you ended up here, just—something. Anything.”

  Beyond the canvas walls of the wagon, the fire was banked down low, mostly just coals now. There wasn’t hardly any light but what little bit of moonglow slipped through the clouds. All Everett could really see was the glittering of Dalton’s eyes, and the movement of his mouth. Everett could only see his lips because Dalton kept licking them, making them wet and shiny in the dark. Distracting as hell, but Everett was determined to set his gut, and his mind, to rest. Only a man with something to hide, or s
omething he was deeply ashamed about, keep so damn tight about himself.

  “Just tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it.” Dalton kept his gaze pinned to the arched roof above them.

  “I don’t want you to say nothing but the truth.” Everett traced his fingers up and down the length of Dalton’s arm. The more closed-lipped Dalton was, the more vocal Everett’s inner voice wanted to be. “What’s in your past that’s so all fire horrible?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember much of anything before I woke up and saw you.”

  Damn. Everett felt like a complete clod. He’d heard of folks being hit so hard the blow knocked the memory right out of their heads. No wonder Dalton wasn’t talking. He wasn’t hiding anything. He just didn’t remember. Everett’s inner voice promptly rolled over and went to sleep.

  “Aw hell, I’m sorry.” He pulled Dalton onto his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that? I was all worried you were a bandit. Or something worse.”

  Dalton laughed.

  “And now you’re laughing at me.”

  “Only because you’re funny.” Dalton leaned up. “Look at me. Do I look like a bandit?”

  “No.” Cupping his chin, Everett turned his face this way and that as if examining him. “You look more like one those fine, upstanding city folk.”

  “But I’m lying down.”

  It was Everett’s turn to laugh. “You got a way with twisting my words around with your tongue.”

  “I’m good with my mouth.” Dalton leaned in close.

  “That you are.” Just thinking about what he’d done to him, twice, had Everett’s heart racing and his dick standing at attention.

  “I could do that again.”

  “How about I do unto you?” Easing him back, Everett resisted the urge to go fast and furious like they had every time so far. He felt badly for doubting Dalton. Maybe his not remembering might be for the best. A man couldn’t hurt over a wrong he didn’t know had been done to him.