Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (8 page)

Chapter Six

Marcus had driven all night long to get to Port Kent before the rodeo closed up the next day. He prayed
Tyler
hadn’t already moved on because he had to see him. Good or bad, he needed closure.

He parked his car close to the heart of the attraction, already noting the crowds were thin and many cowboys were packing up their trailers. Marcus locked his vehicle and asked everyone he met as he walked along the road if they’d seen Tyler James. After half a dozen requests, he finally got some useful information.

“Check the town bar. That’s where you’ll find
Tyler
.” The older man said it so matter-of-factly, as if
Tyler
lived in a bar. His cowboy was better than that, or should be.

Marcus adjusted his collar. He chose to wear a nice pair of pressed slacks and black polo shirt in exchange for his usual suit and tie.
Tyler
would appreciate the change, at least he hoped. He wasn’t at his best due to lack of sleep, and he hadn’t gotten his usual haircut.

When he entered the bar in question, it was packed, and he had to shuffle his way to the back bar. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing for me, thanks. I’m looking for a man.”

“There’re plenty here.”

“No, one particular cowboy. His name is Tyler James, shaggy brown hair, green eyes—” Before he could finish, the bartender pointed to the shadowed corner of the room behind him.

There were several men around a small table. Was that
Tyler
? It looked like a fucking orgy. As he proceeded closer, he noticed they were touching. Strange men had their hands on
Tyler
, even attempting to unbutton his flannel shirt. He’d only been gone a week, and
Tyler
was already back to his playboy self, Marcus fully forgotten.

Anger welled up inside him. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, as well as heartache, betrayal, and insecurity. He was an emotional basket case.

After calling out his misgivings to
Tyler
, ready to make haste and get back home where he belonged, the cowboy made eye contact. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he stumbled, fell, and stumbled again as he tried to get closer to Marcus. The chair he’d been sitting on crashed to the floor, and he pushed the other roughnecks out of his way. “Wait. It’s not what you think…”

Marcus wanted to tell
Tyler
he looked pathetic, had degraded himself once again when he was perfectly ready to love him for the rest of his life, but he kept silent and left.

He was exhausted from the long drive and no sleep. The early morning sun burned his eyes as he walked away from the bar, eager to put distance between him and Tyler and whoever the fuck he was associating with. Marcus felt small and cheap and wanted to escape. To where he didn’t know because even home wasn’t home.

“Wait!”
Tyler
stumbled after him, his boots shuffling along the gravel.

“Stay away from me. Go back to your friends.” He kept walking, not turning back.

“Marcus…Stop! Listen to me for a minute, goddammit!”

This time he stopped, internally cringing thanks to his Catholic upbringing. He didn’t turn to face him, just stood to listen. “What?”

“I’m a bit drunk. I was passing out. Alone. I have no clue where those guys came from, but they’re not with me.”

Marcus whirled on him, his temperature through the roof. He’d traveled all the way out here—for what? To feel worse than he had pining for something that wasn’t even real? “First of all, you’re not a bit drunk. You’re literally fall-down drunk, and it’s disgusting. Second of all, your personal life isn’t really my business, is it? I’m just some lame-ass city boy who gave you a few hours of sex.”

Tyler
barreled forward, pinning his arms to his sides as he backed him up against a wooden lean-to. His strength, even when piss drunk, astounded Marcus. It also brought his strong attraction for the cowboy to the surface, despite his irritation. “Darlin’, don’t test me. I’ve been out of my mind crazy wondering why you never showed up as promised.”

“I’m here.”

“You said you were coming three days ago. I’ve been walking around like a zombie.” He loosened his grip on his biceps. “Today was the first day I turned to the bottle. How much heartache did you expect me to take? I’m only a man.”

“Do you expect me to believe you weren’t fucking around in there? I’m not so naïve,
Tyler
. I know who you are.”

“If you know who I am, why’d you come back at all?” He dropped his arms and stepped back, holding his gaze. Marcus wanted his hands back on him, even if it hurt. The sudden distance felt like an ocean between them when he was so emotionally fragile.

“Because!” What should he say? The absurd truth that he actually thought he was in love? He drove straight through the night just to see him again? But love shouldn’t be one-sided, unconditional or irrevocable.
Tyler
couldn’t lie his way out of this one. Marcus had been out of sight, out of mind.

“Because what?”

He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of laughing him out of town. Marcus already looked like a fool, and he was an outsider on
Tyler
’s turf, a prude in a polo shirt. There was a gaggle of real men in the bar—strong, rough, dominant, and muscled to the teeth.
Tyler
belonged with one of them, and no doubt preferred them to Marcus. “I only came to give you another offer from Cavendish. It wasn’t my idea.”

“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head in suspicion. “Okay. What’s the offer, sweetheart? I’m dying to hear it.”

“It’s–It’s another sponsorship.”

Tyler
nodded and his narrowed eyes told Marcus he didn’t believe a word. “Another sponsorship?”

“You know, you’re pretty coherent for a drunk guy.”

He inched closer. “Cowboys can hold their liquor. I’m sure a cute thing like you is pure as snow, aren’t you? You’d get drunk from a thimbleful.”

“Are you mocking me? Because I was a virgin?”

“Whoa there.”
Tyler
caged him against the wooden plank wall, his large body leaning towards him. He smelled slightly of alcohol and burning wood—a comforting, rustic combination. “That’s just one of the things I love about you, darlin’. You’re mine. All mine.”

“And who do you belong to, Tyler James? Any man who makes a half-assed offer? Or does he just have to have a big dick?”

The cowboy laughed, a low rumbling sound that brought out his hackles.

“That’s what led me to you, no?”
Tyler
reached low and cupped Marcus’s balls and cock, giving a slight squeeze. He couldn’t stop the drawn-out moan that escaped his lips.

“Don’t…” He wanted to tell him never to stop, to strip him, fuck him, love him. But he had his pride and had to be cautious. All he really knew about
Tyler
were rumors, all of them bad.

“Are you gonna tell me no, Marcus? I have a nice, clean room in this town. Got it with you in mind.” He wrapped his free hand around his waist, tugging him closer, his other hand still on his crotch. The sound of his voice made him harder than the wood he leaned against.

He couldn’t say no, even if it tore him apart to lose him a second time. “I’ll come on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“It’s my turn to fuck you.”

* * * *

Tyler
went weak in the knees when his little angel demanded the chance to fuck him. He wouldn’t deny him, not today. Marcus was well endowed, and he could imagine how snugly he’d fill his ass, igniting all his dormant nerves, lighting his body on fire with desire.

“That’s a boy.” He leaned in close, whispering against the shell of his ear. “I’ll suck your dick first, until you beg me to stop. Then you’re gonna get double-fucked. I’ll lube up a nice fat dildo and fuck you with it. When you’re good and ripe, I’ll bend over and you can ram your beautiful cock into my ass.”

“
Holy shit
.”

Tyler
laughed again, barely able to move without causing discomfort to himself. Not only were his ribs bruised, but his dick was painfully engorged.

They didn’t waste time in moving to their new location in the motel down the street. It wasn’t a long walk, but still felt like miles when they were both desperate to be alone. But as soon as they entered the door, they didn’t crash onto the bed as he’d anticipated. There was an awkward divide between them, so many unspoken confessions and concerns. The silence had a life of its own.

Tyler
bent down to pick up the keys he’d dropped and winced when he stood up.

“What’s the matter?” Marcus was next to him in a flash, smoothing his hands down his shoulders.

“The bull had his way with me this morning.” He chuckled, but even the slight jostling made his ribs ache.

“I really wish you wouldn’t ride the bulls. I don’t like any of this. It’s dangerous.”

“If I had you to take care of me, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” The awkward tension shifted to an erotic longing. They looked each other in the eyes, not speaking, just wanting.

When
Tyler
had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well as being older and more experienced. Marcus made
Tyler
feel like all male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for cleanliness. It was all endearing to
Tyler
. He wanted to claim the Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he discovered.

“Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him, carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly.
Tyler
couldn’t help but run his hand through his shiny, black hair, savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked.

“Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in his lover’s eyes.

“Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace. “And city boys aren’t so gullible.”

Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?”

“Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.”

Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming.

“What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep off the alcohol.”

“I can’t go to sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m scared you won’t be here when I wake up.”

Chapter Seven

Tyler
slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest, the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with
Tyler
’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out,
Tyler
mentioned his clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within the hour by the looks of it.

He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret choosing
Tyler
.