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Authors: Mercy Celeste

Let It Go (10 page)

BOOK: Let It Go
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“Any chance he called to say the charges have been dropped?” Creed didn’t look up. He sipped a cup of coffee and turned a page.

“Nope. He wanted to check to see if we’d killed each other yet.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That it was damned close, but not yet.” Eli sighed. “He reminded me that we can take a day off tomorrow and go into town. He’s got a pay packet for you, so you can go get anything you need.”

“I’m good.” He didn’t look up from the book. “Did Engler take the offer for the horse?”

“Not yet. He’s thinking about it.” Eli placed his palms on the counter and lifted himself onto the surface, letting his legs swing. Creed grunted and turned another page. Son of a bitch read fast. Or was skimming, pretending to read. “What the hell are you reading that’s so damned fascinating?”

“An old detective novel from the sixties. Found it in a drawer in your stable office. Sort of Sam Spade-like. He’ll take the offer. He’ll be stuck with a useless horse if he doesn’t. Red is three years old. In good condition. Healthy. He should have been saddle trained a long time ago.”

“Can you do it? I mean, will you do it? I can’t. I don’t have the patience.”

“Depends on the charges, doesn’t it.” Creed sighed and flipped the book over facedown. “I guess as long as I can’t leave I’ll need something to do. And yeah, I can do it. It’s going to take time.”

“And if the charges were dropped?”

“You mean would I stay? Depends.”

“If the charges are dropped, you’ll want to get back to the show. The talk is true. That you’re looking good to win big money this year.”

Eli sat looking at the silent man, trying to read him. Stone cold. Creed was like granite when it came to what he was thinking.

“I can’t afford to chase the buckle. I finished out of the money last week. Can’t afford my share of the gas or the feed for Kip, much less the entry fees.” He shrugged as if that were common knowledge. “Rumor or not, that’s a fact no one has taken into consideration.”

“What are you saying exactly?” Because Eli didn’t know what he was hearing. Was Creed done with rodeo?

“Maybe you did me a favor, Eli. I don’t know. Even if the charges are dropped, I still can’t afford to ship myself and my horse to the next stop on the circuit. I’d rather cut off my arm than sell Kip. He’s all I have left. He comes first. He’s happy here.”

“So does that mean you’re staying?”

“As long as I’m getting paid. And Kip is taken care of. And you don’t ever call me your boy again. Just because I let you fuck me doesn’t make me yours.” The shutters were back in his eyes. Not a damned thing but cold and blank stared out from those green pools.

“I meant that in the sense that you were the expert and I was bowing to you way of saying my boy.” Eli had to fight to keep his temper in check.
Let me fuck him? What the hell?
He’d started it. Made him crazy. Made him want it. Hell, Eli wanted it now. Creed’s sweet ass in the air, his dick inside him. Made him…” Yeah, well, about that other thing. Sorry. Sort of lost control there.”

“Oh,” Creed said, his voice oddly quiet.

Eli had no idea what to say. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Creed picked his book up again. Eli kicked the cabinet doors. He couldn’t help thinking about fucking Creed. Yesterday. How it had happened. What it meant. What did it mean? That they were both horny and angry and frustrated to the point that brutal sex in the hay was the answer? He tried not to think about a repeat performance. Even after Creed had let him, Eli was having trouble with the idea that the man swung his way. Hell, for a while there he wasn’t sure he’d even enjoyed the sex. His eyes. Always those damned eyes. He’d shut down completely a couple of times. Acted and reacted only to Eli’s demands. “Yeah, uh … okay. About tomorrow. It’s going to get cold soon, and I can’t help but notice that you don’t exactly have much in the way of clothes. Maybe we can—”

“It gets cold here? Come on, this is Florida; it doesn’t get cold here. And my clothes are fine. I don’t need any advice from you, shorts boy.”

Eli looked down at his cargo shorts, forgetting he’d grabbed a pair of bright blue ones that a former friend had bought him last year. All of his normal clothes were dirty. Miss Lulu would be out tomorrow to clean and do the wash, but until then he was stuck. A sharp, damp breeze came in through the open window, making him shiver. “I’m not your boy either, so shut up about my shorts.”

“You could at least wear clothes.”

“Why? It’s my house. If I want to walk around naked, I will. Get over it.” Eli let his feet fall still. He cocked his head and grinned as the thought struck him. “Besides, you liked it yesterday.”

“Temporary insanity. Won’t happen again.” He didn’t even crack a smile. Too serious. Too cold. Too hard to piss off. He hated Creed’s control. Always had. That’s what drove him crazy all these years. His goddamned lack of emotion. He wanted to see him get angry. Just once, to completely lose himself in the moment. “On that note, I’m turning in.”

Eli looked at the clock on the stove. It was a little before nine. Too damned early to go to bed—to sleep anyway. Except that he’d found himself getting up earlier and earlier as the week had passed. Somehow they’d fallen into a working pattern. Creed’s breakfast-making skills were much better than his. Eli cleaned up. Out to the barn not long after breakfast. So far they’d cleaned out most of the vermin and had three stalls back in usable order. The office and tack rooms were works in progress. Since his heat episode, Eli hadn’t let Creed venture out into the field; instead he borrowed Kip and went alone to check the cattle. Lunch was a fend-for-yourself deal. They worked on supper and cleanup together. Odd how you fell into a pattern. But he didn’t like this sitting around with nothing to do during the times he was usually out looking for a little hell to raise.

“Yeah, okay. ’Night.”

Creed took his book, one finger between the pages to mark his place, and started to leave. His eyes met Eli’s for a brief second, a flicker of something there. Invitation? Longing? Regret? Eli couldn’t decide and then he was gone, leaving Eli sitting on the counter, his thoughts scattered in a million different directions.

“Takes one to know one.”
The words from the day before fluttered through his memory. The way he smelled. How he tasted. The sounds he made. Or didn’t make. Eli wondered if the detachment he’d sensed several times had been real. Almost as if Creed had pushed him that far only to bend over and take it. He’d wanted to kiss him so damn badly. It was just a fuck. But dammit, Eli had wanted more than a fuck. When it was over Creed had gathered up his clothes and left him lying in the hay wondering what the hell just happened.
“I can smell you, Eli, makes me want to taste you.”
Eli knew one damned thing for certain. There had been no tasting of anything and that didn’t sit right with him.

Eli took his time turning the lights off and closing the windows on his way to his room, even though it was early and he wasn’t the slightest bit tired. He could watch TV or surf the Internet for porn or something until he was tired. He stood in front of the dresser that had been his as a kid, looking at himself in the mirror. The sound of the water running in the guest room made him shiver.
“Takes one to know one.”
Was that true? If it were true, why didn’t they know this about themselves years ago? Why didn’t he ever get a single gay vibe off Creed? Not even yesterday when he was buried deep inside him. He needed to know. He wanted something final between them.

He slid a drawer open and found what he needed to find out. Careful to make sure the shower was still running, he opened Creed’s door and let himself into the pin-neat room. A few minutes later Creed stepped into the room towel drying his hair, his long, lean body still steaming from the hot water. He stopped when he saw Eli, lounging cross-legged on his bed. Eli tried not to grin, but Creed’s obvious reaction drew his eye to that part of the man’s anatomy.

“Is there something I can do for you?” The words were soft, guarded. Creed didn’t retreat into the bathroom. He didn’t hide his erection behind the towel. But he didn’t move toward the bed either. He seemed undecided; that’s the best Eli could come up with. Undecided. Wanting, but not enough to make the first move.

Eli moved off the bed and across the short distance until he was nose to nose with his rival. Funny, he’d always thought Creed was so much taller than him. Maybe an inch if that much; not even that much. He stepped forward and placed his hands on Creed’s hips. Creed moved back until he was pressed against the wall. Eli could see his pulse flutter in his neck. He wanted to taste the spot. “I don’t remember ever getting to that tasting thing you wanted to do yesterday.”

“So you thought you’d give me a second chance?” For a moment Eli thought there was a bit of anger in the man’s voice. But then he drew in a quick breath. “What if I’m not interested in tasting you tonight?”

“Then would you mind if I taste you?” Eli let his hands drift lower over Creed’s hips to his thighs. For a slim man the muscles there were incredible. No body fat at all, just well-formed horseman legs. Eli remembered how they felt wrapped around him. Strong. So damned strong. He wanted that again. Later. Now he wanted something else.

He didn’t touch him as he slowly sank to his knees. Just his hands on those glorious legs. Creed looked down at him with curious eyes. His lips parted as if he was about to protest. Hands flat against the wall, the towel on the floor now, he seemed to brace himself.

A tiny pearlescent drop of moisture formed at the tip of Creed’s cock. Eli resisted the urge to capture the drop with his tongue. Instead, he kneeled at Creed’s feet, staring up into his green eyes. Looking for something. Anything to tell him that he was feeling the same thing Eli was. Except Eli wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Besides horny. Maybe because they were the only two people on the goddamned planet right now. Or maybe this was brewing all along. He expected to find the same distant, closed-off look Creed wore when he was trying to protect himself. He didn’t bargain for the stark, naked longing he found in those eyes. “Tell me to get out now. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.” He waited, but Creed didn’t tell him to leave.

“Eli,” he said so softly that Eli barely heard him. The simple word was all Eli needed to send his heart slamming into his chest at g-force velocity.

The tiny pearlescent drop disappeared at the tiniest flick of his tongue. Eli held the taste and savored it. His first real taste of Creed. He’d never known how much he craved this taste. The sound Creed made, sort of a strangled gasp at the simple touch, seemed to shoot straight through Eli’s body to pool at the base of his dick. “Tell me to go.” It would be his last warning. Eli wanted him. Now.

He gazed up the distance into Creed’s eyes. They weren’t shuttered and blank. Too much raged there. Fire, want, need, fear. All in a swirling, twirling torrent of something that Eli didn’t understand. No one had ever looked at him like that. “Don’t go.” The words were whispered through lips that barely moved.

“Okay,” Eli said, his voice breaking. Nervous. God, he was nervous. This was Creed. No reason to be—but he was. Because of the look in the man’s eyes. Broken. That’s the look. A broken man. One he could shatter with a careless flick of his hand. Jesus Christ, it was Creed. Creed was far from fragile. What the hell was he thinking?

He leaned in and his gaze locked with Creed’s. Eli tasted, a touch of his tongue on the now dripping head. God, he tasted so good. Eli wanted to go slow. Wanted to make this last. He burned to know everything. Now. The muscles in Creed’s thighs flexed when Eli took him deep inside. Creed’s muffled cry startled him. He looked up to find him biting his palm to keep from making noise. His eyes wild. But he tasted so good and Eli couldn’t stop now. He wanted everything.

He used his tongue to suck him in deep, sliding it along his length, swirling it around the rim of his head, inside the small opening. And still Creed fought to keep quiet. His body betraying him. He thrust into Eli’s mouth. Slowly, awkwardly at first. Eli took him, all of him, down his throat. Letting him take control. A hand snaked into his hair, holding him, not pulling, not rough, just there.

Eli ran his hands along the muscles behind Creed’s legs, over his ass, one hand around to rest on his stomach.

“Eli.” His voice was a rasping gasp. “Eli.” He stopped moving. His belly heaving as he fought off orgasm. “Stop. It’s too much.”

The hand in his hair dragged him away. Eli stumbled back onto his feet, breathing hard. What the hell was that? The man against the wall didn’t move. He wouldn’t meet Eli’s eyes. He seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said in a dull tone.

Eli took his hand, tracing the teeth marks with his fingers. Creed had done this to himself. Why? He held it in his as he climbed to his feet. “It’s all right, Creed. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”

“Wasn’t you.” Creed looked at him finally, his eyes blank again. “I was too close. Sorry. Not ready to…” He shrugged away the rest.

“Me either.” Eli wanted to take him in his arms and hold him. He’d had this urge before. The day he nearly died. This overpowering out of the blue need to protect Creed scared him. “Okay. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, fine.”

Creed let him lead him to the bed. He let Eli lay him down. Eli left his shorts on the floor and climbed in beside him. “Creed?”

“Yeah?” His voice shook, he lay so still.

“Touch me.” He wasn’t sure why he said that.

“Where?” came the startled reply.

“Anywhere. Just … I want to feel your hands on me.” Because right now he couldn’t escape the idea that Creed wasn’t interested in him. Just sex. And Eli was the only available person.

Creed rolled to face him; his lean, tanned body agile, catlike. “It’s been a long time, Eli,” he said instead of touching. “A really long time.”

“Okay,” Eli whispered watching the emotion play across Creed’s face. “So we’re just blowing off steam. No harm. No foul.”

“What does that mean?” The shuttered gaze again. Creed was possibly the most frustrating man he’d ever met. “Just fucking around because there isn’t anyone else. Is that what this is? I’m here, and not averse to taking it up the ass, so you thought you’d use that to your advantage?”

BOOK: Let It Go
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