If you're under 18, then go on and git.

Friday, February 15, 2019

Friday Weekend Reads

I haven't been reading as much as usual. Things are going on that make that impossible at this time. But, I have read some fabulous books. As always, feel free to share your book suggestions below :D

First up, The Other Book by Roe Hovat. I really enjoyed this one, and if you haven't read it, or Vanilla Clouds by Roe, you're really missing out on some wonderful storytelling. And I totally suggest reading the forward by Roe in The Other Book, too, in case you don't like some of the  things the characters might do in the book.

The Other Book Roe Horvat

and since I mentioned Vanilla Clouds, too:

Vanilla Clouds Roe Horvat

I am a huge fan of Kim Dare's books. I was so happy she put out a new novella! And of course, it is a fantastic book :D

Sticks and Stones Kinky Cupid 3 Kim Dare

I can't wait for the 4th story to come out soon!

And last but not least, I read The Little Library by Kim Fielding. It was a wonderful story. I love everything I've ever read by her-- hard to choose a favorite! Rattlesnake, maybe? But then again, The Tin Box, or...well, you get the idea.

The Little Library Kim Fielding

Y'all have any book suggestions for us?

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Sneak Peek at more of The Jasper Soul

I promised another excerpt, but I don't want to give away too much for those who haven't read the blog story. Maybe this bit will entice y'all to give the story a chance :D This is also an example of the two different POVs. There's a reason one's 1st person and one isn't; it worked for me with the characters and the situations they were in.

Anyway! I hope y'all enjoy this peek at The Jasper Soul.

Copyright 2019
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Ten

So close. So close and yet…And yet he didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. He’d been held in stasis, enclosed in the jasper, for so long he wasn’t even certain who he was anymore. Or if he was even real.
But there’d been a pull, a tug he couldn’t resist, and he’d been yanked from the stone. It had been incredibly painful and terrifying. He had no idea why, or what had happened, except the next moment, he was standing, staring at a man, unable to look away from him.
Vaguely aware of the music, he continued to wait, watch, held in place by some unnamed force. He wasn’t exactly whole, yet he was…something, something real enough to hold up clothes that were on him, something realenough to draw attention of other men.
But not the man he wanted to see him.
Until someone pointed, and as badly as he wanted to stay, to meet the guy calling to him, he had to turn around. His body—what there was of it—was not his own.
If he could have stayed there in that alley, and let himself be bared to the man, would he have?
It was a question he would never have an answer to. The jasper encased him before he could do more than wonder what was happening.
I think I passed out. That wasn’t something I was admitting to anyone, either. I remember chasing the guy in the hoodie, and the particular feeling that I had to see him, to speak to him. Then there was the whole weird thing with me not being able to catch him when I should have done just that.
After that, the alley, shivers racing over me, goosebumps as I reached for him—
I sat up in the alley and rubbed the back of my head. It ached, but there was only a small knot. The fact that I was, or had been, lying in an alley? Good God on speed, that’s disgusting!
After I scrambled to my feet, I immediately regretted moving so fast. I was dizzy. Without really thinking about it, I reached for the stone in my pocket.
It wasn’t there.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, more panicked than ever as I shoved my hands into my pockets. “No, no—”
I don’t know how I found it. Someone must have flashed a light somewhere—maybe a headlight?—and the stone picked it up just enough to sparkle.
“Oh, thank God,” I said as I grabbed it. I clasped it hard and held it to my chest. Weird, but whatever.I couldn’t lose the stone. “No more of that.” It didn’t matter who or what I was talking to. More than anything, I just needed to hear my own voice. No one else was going to pop in and say, “Wow, Matt! I am glad you found that stone!”
Snorting, I put the jasper back in my front right jeans pocket. “No more escaping on me.” I left the alley, noticing that I didn’t feel like I’d hit the ground back there. A touch to the back of my head and I could tell the knot was almost gone.
Maybe having hallucinations wasn’t a bad thing if they came with rapid healing? Or was I hallucinating that I was injured, or healing, or…
Too much to think about. The sidewalk wasn’t crowded now that I was off Sixth Street. In fact, I didn’t see anyone else around. My phone was still in my back pocket, but when I took it out—well, what would you expect would happen to an iPhone not in a case if you fell on it? Yeah, it was wrecked.
“Great.” That’d make getting hold of my friends or calling for an Uber difficult. I’d just have to hoof it back to the club. It really wasn’t far.
But the heat and humidity grew more oppressive and I felt more and more uncomfortable, until I was almost certain someone was watching me, maybe even following me. I kept looking back and never saw anyone. It didn’t make any difference. The sensation only grew stronger.
Fuck it.I wasn’t made to be some brave, dashing, selfless hero. I took off running, knowing if I hit Sixth Street, I’d probably be safe.
I made it there, and back to the club, where I found Artie and the others. When they asked me about the mystery man, I just told them I hadn’t been able to find him.
But the rest of the evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched by something bad, evil. I don’t know. Maybe it was a portent. All I did know was danger seemed to be hovering around me and I didn’t have a clue as to why.

Monday, February 11, 2019

Cover Art/Blurb/Excerpt for The Jasper Soul

I don't know if y'all remember the blog story I was working on when the death-knell of my marriage sounded, and before I left him for the last time. It was the fall of 2016, I was working on The Jasper Soul. I concluded the final climactic scene, but I didn't finish the story and give the guys their HEA.

I finally got that done, and I changed Aklink to Andulin (mainly because I kept hearing "Boom, boom, ack-a-lacka-lacka-lacka courtesy of Was Not Was every time I tried to finish writing the story. My mind...can be an odd, odd place). Pride-Pub has made a pretty cover for the book, and it'll be released soon!

This is also the first story I've written that is in 1st person POV, or partially in it. I'm excited for it to hit the presses :D

Available Feb. 26th at Pride-publishing: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/the-jasper-soul
and April 9th at all third-party retailers :D

An ancient evil stalks the earth, seeking to finish what it started…
Matt Callaghan is pretty sure he’s just an average guy. His tragic past haunts him, and the only comfort he finds is something he’s not willing to explain to anyone else. The jasper stone he found as a child had been with him for over half his life, and he can’t be parted from it. 
There’s more to the stone than Matt knows. Thousands of years ago, one man, the last of his people, was cast into the stone, his soul protected when his body could not be saved.
The evil that hunted him is still alive, still waiting for a chance to destroy the jasper stone.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and physical assault.
General Release Date: 9th April 2019


Rocks have always fascinated me. When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up to be a geologist. Every time I found a rock that interested me, I’d pick it up and take it home, then crack that sucker open with a hammer as soon as I got the chance. Despite a few injuries—I’ve got a couple of small scars on my cheeks and one on my chin from rock chips flying off as I banged away—I never stopped doing it.
But I didn’t become a geologist, or even go to college. Life happens, as the saying goes. That’s never used as a positive statement. It always indicates a rough or bad time in someone’s life, which was true for me. I had neither the money nor the grades to get into a decent college, and it seemed like too much work, when I’d stopped dreaming of a better life.
I didn’t want to go there right then. Instead, I just wanted to sit in the early morning sunlight streaming through the breakfast nook window and study the one rock I’d never been tempted to break.
Holding the piece of jasper up to the sun made the greens and golds shine brilliantly. That stone always seemed to pulse with some kind of mystic energy. I know that’s crazy, and it’s just a piece of jasper polished from hundreds, no, thousands, of years on this planet. That I found it in the first place was stupendous luck.
I’ll never forget it. Me, Timmy and Erin had been best friends practically since birth. I was just beginning to suspect I wasn’t quite like them. All their talk of girls and what they wanted to do with a girlfriend if they ever got so lucky as to have one left me cold and, to be honest, a little queasy. It was nothing for them to throw around words like ‘queer’ and ‘faggot’ as insults. I was guilty of it, too. Maybe more so than them, because I was afraid of things I just didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to examine why I was confused about stuff like not finding girls attractive. Our church was a small one, all hell-fire and brimstone. Honestly, I never understood how anyone was ever going to make it into Heaven. It sounded like an impossible task, even with Jesus interceding for us.
Well, I’m rambling off-course. I couldn’t tell my friends what I suspected, even though we’d been best buddies all our lives. There was too much hatred when they said those words and though I tried to emulate them to defer suspicion, it only worked for so long.
That wasn’t what I wanted to remember today. I focused on the stone, the smooth, warm surface of it. Sometimes I fantasized that it was an ancient, sacred relic. Really, it was just an oval, smoothed over by the river and rocks where I’d found it. It held a glow that made it look polished, and who knew? Maybe someone had tossed the stone in the river not long before I found it. That was the most likely scenario.
Even so, I’d kept the stone a secret. When Timmy and Erin and I were out hiking in the wild of the beautiful Texas Hill Country, camping out for a few days because our folks figured we were old enough to do that then, we talked mostly about girls and sex and, of course, jerking off. I’d heard stories about boys doing that together all the time but still being straight. There was none of that for us. No one was going to whip out his dick and start stroking it around the other two. If masturbating was going to get us sent to Hell, then doing it with another guy—or two—would probably have gotten us the worst level of Hell.
It was our second day out, and the heat was getting to us. The river wasn’t too deep, the current not very strong. There were some rapids that were fun to go over in inner tubes but not so much on just our ass.
We didn’t care. We were kids, hot and excited about playing in the water. We stripped to our briefs and jumped in. We had to watch out for cottonmouths and such. There was nothing quite like shooting down rapids and having a snake zip along with us. Talk about water pollution. We caused many cases of it when someone pissed themselves in fear, and rightly so. Cottonmouths could be deadly if they got enough venom in someone.
Timmy hit the rapids and yee-hawed at first, then screeched that there was a snake and Erin and I were scrambling to our feet in a rush. Timmy’s blond hair was almost white, and so was his normally tan face when he shot out of the river, clawing at the bank and dragging himself up onto dry land. He was a mess of scratches, but Erin and I weren’t in much better shape. Both of us lost our footing and went down the rapids ass over teakettle, bumping and half-drowning ourselves in our stupidity.
As I grabbed for something to hold on to, my head under water, body bent like God only knew what, I opened my eyes. In that second, everything slowed. I saw the jasper stone, sunlight hitting it through the water. The beauty of it, the perfect shape, the colors—I couldn’t worry about dying just then. I snatched that rock up and before I knew what was when, I was standing up and walking to the riverbank, where Erin and Timmy lay panting.
I was bruised and scratched, but I felt calm, not breathless or fearful. I tucked the rock into my briefs, and I don’t know why I did that. I never told them about the jasper. I never told anyone and when the trailer I grew up in caught fire, the dryer having overheated and lit a shirt that had fallen behind it, the only thing I grabbed was that stone.

Stay tuned for an additional excerpt this week! 

Saturday, February 9, 2019

Painted Sky Ch. 28 ***NSFW***

Copyright 2019
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Twenty-Eight
What calls to the rain?

Kane helped him spread out the blanket, then Wyatt sat right in the middle of it. His throat was dry, but not from fear. Anticipation was running rampant through him. “How do you want me?”
“Every way I can have you,” Kane said, kneeling in front of him. “You make me feel things…” He placed his hands on Wyatt’s knees and nudged. “Things I don’t know how to explain.” 
“Don’t have to.” Wyatt parted his legs and lowered himself to his elbows. “Don’t have to tell me anything, Kane. I don’t want more than you can comfortably give.” 
Kane’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he set the lube and condoms down beside Wyatt. “No one’s ever made me feel the things that you do.” 
Wyatt was pretty sure Kane knew that went double for him. Still, he offered him the words. “Same here. I thought I could just…not have this. Maybe a quick fuck eventually, but what you and I have, it’s more than that.” 
“It is.” Kane stretched out over him. 
Wyatt lowered himself the rest of the way down, his back on the old quilt his grandma had made. He wrapped his arms around Kane and kissed him without fear, kissed him with abandon, hoping Kane could somehow see into his heart and soul. 
Not that it would do any good. Wyatt had to keep reminding himself of that—Kane’s life was in Santa Fe, and Wyatt’s was there on the ranch. 
Wyatt was grateful for what he had with Kane, and for the little time they’d get to spend together. He wouldn’t let himself think about what-ifs and wonder if Kane would come back to town and visit him once he left again. 
Wyatt shut his worries off. He wasn’t wasting another moment on worrying. He hooked one ankle over Kane’s and thrust up, driving his cock alongside Kane’s. 
Kane rumbled into the kiss and moved his hands up to bury his fingers in Wyatt’s hair. 
It was as if a taut line snapped between them, and their restraint vanished with it. Wyatt scrambled for a hold on Kane, kissing harder, needing harder, aching for everything all at once. His dick hurt, it was so rigid, and Kane’s felt like it matched him there. 
Wyatt raised his legs, planting his heels close to his butt so he could grind up with more force. The friction of his cock against Kane’s wasn’t enough; the unrhythmic thrusts from both of them should have been ridiculous. Instead, it ratcheted up the lust and need in Wyatt exponentially. 
He moaned, tipping his head back, having to break the kiss to gasp for breath. 
Kane nibbled a path down to his chest, then Kane’s hot, wet mouth was over one nipple while he tugged and rolled the other with his nimble fingers. 
Wyatt palmed Kane’s nape. “Yes, ah, God, do it harder, baby.” The endearment slipped out before he could censor it, and he didn’t have time to panic over it since Kane did as he’d asked. 
Wyatt bucked his hips, desperate for more of everything. The anticipation of having Kane’s dick buried in his ass added to the pleasure, he felt doubling as Kane teased his nipples. 
For a moment, Wyatt didn’t think he could handle much more stimulation without coming. He was so close already. “Kane, I’m…I’m afraid I’m gonna come!”
Kane raised his head. “I want to explore your body—”
“Can’t you explore it any faster?” Wyatt hated to whine, but damn! He needed more, so much more. “I promise, you can explore all you want next time—” He cut off, cheeks flaming with embarrassment, which doused a good portion of his desperation. There very well might not be a ‘next time’, and he had to remember that. 
Kane had dipped his head again and started licking Wyatt’s sternum. He didn’t seem to catch Wyatt’s mistake. 
“Can do it now and next time,” Kane murmured. He brought both hands back to Wyatt’s nipples. 
Wyatt didn’t protest, couldn’t when his eyes were nearly crossing because what Kane was doing felt so good. His nipples were hot and tender by the time Kane pushed Wyatt’s arms up and started licking his pits, the right one first, then the left. 
Being ticklish had never been a problem for Wyatt, and it certainly wasn’t now as Kane lapped at him. Wyatt had seen such things done in a porno once, and he’d shrugged it off as unrealistic. 
But what Kane was doing to him was very, very real, and it was hot as fuck. Wyatt’s throat was dry as dust and his voice raspy by the time Kane slid down further, kissing and licking all over his body. 
Kane hadn’t lied about his intentions, either. He touched every part of Wyatt, from his head down to his toes, and when he licked the arch of one of Wyatt’s feet, tears burned Wyatt’s eyes. 
Not from frustration, but from the care and tenderness Kane showered him with. 
When Kane had him roll over, Wyatt went easily. He was floating in a blissful state, one of physical and emotional euphoria that intensified by the time Kane parted his ass cheeks and began rimming him again. 
Wyatt didn’t let himself worry or rush. He simply let himself feel, and it was glorious. 
And Kane’s tongue was magical, as far as he was concerned. That slick muscle ignited pleasure in all the nerve endings in and around Wyatt’s hole. 
Wyatt raised up on his knees, keeping his shoulders on the quilt. He was past words, past everything but receiving all the ecstasy he could get. 
“So fucking perfect,” Kane muttered. “Look at you. God.” 
Wyatt took the first two fingers easily, with little more than a twinge. The third one made his rim burn, but after a moment, he knew he’d crave that sensation again. 
Kane rubbed over Wyatt’s gland, and Wyatt made a sound somewhere between a mewl and a moan. He writhed and tried to get more touches like that, and for his attempts, he was rewarded. 
Panting, he strained backwards, rocked forward, and repeated the moves, fucking himself on Kane’s fingers. Wyatt grunted every time he slammed back, cried out when Kane caressed his prostate, moaned when Kane twisted those fingers and stretched his rim. 
Then Wyatt’s ass was empty, and he forced one eye open. “Kane?” he croaked, shivering from the sudden lack of fullness in his ass. 
“I’ve got you, hon,” Kane said, his voice barely more than a scrape of sound. 
Wyatt closed his eye and heard the rip of the condom wrapper, the gurgle of more lube. 
“Wy…” Kane stroked Wyatt from the middle of his back down to his butt. 
Wyatt tried to say something, anything, but the press of Kane’s thick cockhead to his hole stole his breath. 
“Relax as much as you can, and push—” Kane moaned. “Yessss, fuck, just like that, just like that.” 
Wyatt wanted to shove back hard, but even pleasure-addled, he knew that would be a bad idea. 
Kane did something, not quite a full thrust, but the tip of his dick slid into Wyatt, the fattest part stretching his ring uncomfortable before it slipped inside. 
From there on, Wyatt felt only wonderous things, his inner walls clinging to Kane’s length, the sensitive nerves stroked like they’d never been before. 
Kane was murmuring his name over and over between hissed breaths. When he bottomed out, his hips pressed against Wyatt’s ass, he shivered hard enough that Wyatt felt it. 
“Wy, honey, I’m…I don’t—” Kane bent over him, pressing his chest to Wyatt’s back. “There’s never been anyone who makes me feel like you do.” 
Wyatt opened his eyes. He had to swallow twice before he could speak. “Lemme turn over. I want to see you.” 
“It’s less painful this way the first time,” Kane said, not moving. 
Wyatt reached behind himself and touched Kane. “I don’t care. I need to see you.” 
Kane’s breath hitched, and he sat up, his cock sliding out slowly. “I need that, too.”
Wyatt rolled over and spread out on his back. He pulled his legs up, bringing his knees to his chest, offering Kane everything, not just his body. He couldn’t give Kane just that. 
Kane lined his cock up again, his gaze never leaving Wyatt’s. “Yes.” 
He didn’t ask ‘yes, what?’. Couldn’t, not when Kane was filling him so perfectly again. 
And it was better, this time, to be able to watch Kane’s expression, to see the sweat beading his brow, the way his lips parted as his crown slid into Wyatt’s ass. 
To see him shiver before he lowered himself down over Wyatt.
To watch as Kane struggled to keep his eyes open even as he brought his lips to Wyatt’s. 
There was that moment of utter perfection when Kane’s shaft was filling Wyatt’s completely, when Kane’s lips were soft but his kiss was hard with desperation, when his tongue slid over Wyatt’s and his hunger bled into Wyatt from both penetrations. 
And in that instant, Wyatt didn’t think making love could get any better. 
Kane proved him wrong with a slow withdrawal of his cock; the drag of that hard length against Wyatt’s clenching ass was almost too good to handle. 
Then Kane thrust, a snap of his hips that scattered every thought Wyatt had ever had.
Every drive in pushed more pleasure into Wyatt’s body, more emotions than he could grasp. All he could do was hold on and, after he wrapped his legs around Kane’s waist, meet Kane thrust for thrust.
The kiss turned sloppy and wetter by the second, but Wyatt needed Kane’s mouth, and Kane didn’t seem inclined to deny him. 
Words were impossible anyway. It wasn’t just the physical act that stole them from Wyatt, but the depth of the emotions he was awash in. 
The ecstasy—that spiraled all throughout his body, growing bigger and brighter with every rub of Kane’s cock over his gland. Wyatt arched his back and the angle made the next thrust even more spectacular.
Kane moved, too, raising up a bit, and though that ended the kiss, it also made it possible for Kane to grip Wyatt’s dick. 
Brilliant colors burst to life behind Wyatt’s closed eyelids, and a roaring sound filled his ears. He clutched at Kane, hands sliding over Kane’s sweat-slicked shoulders, down to Kane’s biceps. 
Wyatt’s orgasm hit him with little warning. One moment he was reveling in lovemaking, and the next, he was burning bright with so much pleasure, he couldn’t even catch his breath. His entire body tightened, then heated with pleasure. 
A strangled sound reached him in his orgasmic haze. Kane cried out and jerked his hips with sharp, rough thrusts. 
Wyatt went soft, his body well-loved and worn out as his climax ebbed. 
Kane half-fell on him, driving a grunt from Wyatt. 
He thought Kane might have said, “Sorry,” but Wyatt’s head was spinning and he wasn’t sure he heard anything over the pounding of his own heart. 
He lowered his legs down and Kane moved again, reaching down to where their bodies were joined. His cock slipped out, then Kane was rolling them both to their sides, pulling Wyatt into his arms. 
They didn’t speak. Wyatt didn’t trust himself not to blurt out words Kane didn’t need to hear. They would just pressure Kane to do or say something he shouldn’t. 
I’ll worry about that later. For now, Wyatt was going to just love the man in silence.

Friday, February 8, 2019

Painted Sky Ch. 27 ***NSFW***

Copyright 2019
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rain fills the rivers; dew kisses the grass.

Nothing’s ever felt like this. Kane was shaken by the thought, though he didn’t pull back. His art had always been his priority, his salvation, but Wyatt was more than anything else—more important, more necessary, more expansive. Kane couldn’t fit his emotions into words, and he gave up trying when Wyatt shivered in his arms. 
Kane wasn’t going to miss a second of this experience to his own confusing thoughts. He sucked on Wyatt’s bottom lip and palmed one of his firm ass cheeks. 
Wyatt’s breath hitched and Kane released his lip as Wyatt began to turn his head. 
“Jesus, Kane. I—I feel l-like I’m gonna fall apart,” Wyatt rasped. “Don’t wanna come too fast.” 
Kane trailed kisses down Wyatt’s stubbled jaw. “Come fast, and I’ll get you off again, or hold back, and I’ll fucking blow your mind, hon.” 
Wyatt giggled, a sound Kane hadn’t heard from him before, then Wyatt slapped a hand over his own mouth. 
Kane tugged at his wrist. “Don’t hurt those beautiful lips.” He licked them and slid his tongue past them when Wyatt opened for him. 
The kiss was supposed to be a tender one. Kane wanted to worship Wyatt, take his time and make sure Wyatt was as ready for his cock as possible. 
But Wyatt grabbed his hips and began a rough grind, dragging his erection over Kane’s, and Kane’s good intentions went up in a blaze of lust and need. 
He pressed closer to Wyatt, holding onto him tight, fisting one hand in the back of Wyatt’s shirt, shoving the other in one of Wyatt’s back pockets. Wyatt’s ass was muscled, taut, too lean to be plump but just right for Kane’s tastes. 
Taste. Mmm. Kane walked Wyatt back a few steps. He stopped and sucked on Wyatt’s tongue, drawing it into his mouth and eliciting a raw sound from Wyatt. 
Wyatt moved a hand up to Kane’s nape and held him still while plundering his mouth, taking control there while Kane gripped Wyatt’s ass with both hands. He squeezed and rubbed Wyatt’s cheeks and wished like hell their clothes would magically disappear. 
Magic wasn’t going to happen without a little help—well, they’d make their own magic. There were already enough sparks between them to set off a mass of fireworks. 
Kane slicked his tongue over Wyatt’s and ran his hands up from Wyatt’s ass to his lower back. He rubbed small circles there while kissing Wyatt, unable to force himself to break away just yet even to suggest they strip. 
A steady breeze brushed over them, keeping the mosquitos away and cooling some of the heat from the day. A symphony of crickets serenaded them as Kane nipped at Wyatt’s mouth before nuzzling his way over to the soft, sweet skin beneath his ear. 
“Oh…god,” Wyatt muttered, hands clenching tight on Kane’s shoulders. “Yeah…that’s—ungh!” 
Kane sucked until he was certain he’d left a mark. He laved the spot as Wyatt rocked his hips faster. 
“Naked,” Kane finally managed to get out. 
Wyatt moved so quickly, he startled Kane, pulling back and taking Kane by the wrist. “Yeah. That. Naked.” 
Kane opened his mouth up to say something about moving closer to the truck, but his voice failed him when Wyatt whipped off his own shirt.
“Hurry,” Wyatt prodded, dropping his t-shirt to the ground. 
Kane shook himself even as he raised the hem of his t-shirt. “Need to get—”
“In the truck.” Wyatt was toeing off his boots even as he spoke. 
Kane had a condom in his wallet but he hadn’t thought to stash a sachet of lube with it. Thank God one of us is prepared. 
And thinking of prepared, he was nervous about fucking Wyatt. 
Except he wasn’t fucking him. Kane knew that. This was all…more. 
As nervous as he was, he trusted Wyatt to know what he wanted. Kane would stop at any time if Wyatt asked or told him to.
Should tell that to him. “Wy, if at any time, you want me to stop—”
“You’ll stop.” Wyatt had his boots off and his belt undone. With a flick of his wrist, his jeans were opened. Wyatt shoved his pants and underwear down and stepped out of them. “Hurry up, Kane. I want you.”
Wyatt didn’t seem to be nervous at all. His eyes gleamed under the moonlight, and maybe Kane imagined the burning desire he saw in them. 
Or maybe he didn’t. Wyatt took a step backwards, closer to the truck. His thick erection bobbed as he moved. “You need to hurry it up.” He fisted the base of his shaft. 
Kane almost came in his jeans. “Yeah. Yeah I—” And why was he wasting time talking? Because he didn’t want to miss a second of Wyatt, so gloriously naked and perfect on that hot Texas night. 
But his hands moved as if of their own accord, getting him undressed in seconds. He hadn’t worn boots to toe off, but his socks were a bitch to get a hold of with his dick jabbing him in the belly as he bent over. 
Wyatt hadn’t looked away from him once, and stood with his backside propped against the passenger door of the truck. 
Kane could feel his gaze like a touch. It made his cock leak pre-cum and his balls ache to be watched with such hunger. 
Wyatt swallowed loud enough to be heard over the crickets. 
Kane’s heart might have skipped a beat. “If you don’t—”
“Swear to God, I’m gonna impale myself on that big dick of yours if you don’t speed it up,” Wyatt interrupted, reaching behind himself and opening the truck door. “Seems like that might hurt, so I’d rather have some prep first.” 
Kane was finally freed of all clothing. He cupped his balls and narrowed his eyes at Wyatt. “Some prep? Oh hon, I’m gonna eat your sweat ass until your open and wet, then I’m gonna finger you and fuck you until you beg me to slide my dick into you.”
Wyatt’s breath shot out of him like he’d been kicked by one of the horses. “Yeah?” His voice broke over the short word, and he cleared his throat. “That your plan?”
Kane closed the distance between them and cradled Wyatt’s face in his hands. “Damn right it is. I’m going to celebrate every inch of your body, gonna make love—” He sealed his mouth over Wyatt’s at the same moment he aligned their bodies. All that skin on skin almost ripped Kane’s control right away from him. 
He couldn’t imagine how amazing it was going to feel to sink his cock into Wyatt’s tight ass. If he lasted more than a few minutes it’d be a miracle. 
Wyatt moved against him, a perfect writhe that had their shafts gliding together. Kane guided him down to lie on the seat of the truck, kissing him until Wyatt was where he wanted him, then Kane began exploring all the different textures of Wyatt’s skin, licking and nibbling, stopping to suck up marks lower down on his neck, scraping his teeth over the pulsing tendon there.
Wyatt hitched one leg up and wobbled. Kane reminded himself that he wasn’t rushing things. He raised up and ran one fingertip down the center of Wyatt’s chest, to the divot of his belly button. “We need more room.” 
“Got a blanket behind the seat. You can make…” Wyatt paused and Kane looked up at him. Wyatt licked his lips. “Make love to me on it.” 
Kane held a hand out to Wyatt. “Yeah, you deserve better than a rough plow in the pickup truck for your first time.” 
Wyatt slid his hand in Kane’s and chuckled. “No fuck in the truck, got it.”
Kane would have groaned at the bad rhyme but Wyatt stood up and let go of his hand. 
Then he bent over to reach for something—Kane didn’t even remember what—and his pert ass was right there.
Kane didn’t hesitate. He lowered himself to his knees and smoothed his hands over Wyatt’s butt. 
Wyatt only jolted a little. “What—” He squeaked when Kane leaned in and buried his face in Wyatt’s crease. 
Kane didn’t go slow. He licked down a few inches to Wyatt’s hole, dragged his tongue over that sensitive skin, and pushed Wyatt’s ass cheeks further apart. 
Wyatt’s gasps were the perfect accompaniment to Kane’s exploration. He took in the scent of Wyatt, the salt and sweat taste of him, as he lapped and nuzzled. 
“Oh…Oh…Damn,” Wyatt whispered, “Kane, I…I—more, please, give me more, please—”
Kane pressed on Wyatt’s cheeks, exposing his pucker more. “Whatever you want,” he said before using the tip of his tongue on Wyatt’s opening. 
Wyatt arched his back and reached around to grab one of his own ass cheeks. 
Kane hummed against Wyatt’s hole. He reached around and palmed the head of Wyatt’s dick. It was wet with pre-cum, and Kane smeared the warm liquid around as much as he could. 
“Kane,” Wyatt growled. “I’ll come!”
Kane stopped moving his hand, though he didn’t release Wyatt’s cockhead. He focused on Wyatt’s hole, on licking it until it began to soften, the muscles there relaxing enough for him to press his tongue inside. 
Wyatt loosed a strangled sound, not quite a shout, not quite a yelp, and his ring clenched around Kane’s tongue. 
Kane moaned, needing to push Wyatt into his pleasure, to give him—
Wyatt began to move for him, small thrusts back to fuck himself on Kane’s tongue. Something whacked Kane’s wrist, also smacking Wyatt’s ass. 
Kane reached for it. Warm plastic fitted into his hand. He raised his head and sat back on his heels. He looked at what he held and grinned. Lube. 
But he wasn’t going to screw Wyatt over the seat of the truck. Kane stood. He had to grind up against Wyatt’s ass for a moment, drag the head of his cock over Wyatt’s wet hole. 
“Kane, I want— Uhng—want your dick in me,” Wyatt said, with a hint of a whine. 
Kane stepped back. “You’ll have it.” He hated, for the first time ever, the fact that he had to wear a condom. It had never bothered him with other men, and even with PrEP, Kane refused to fuck without condoms.
And even though he used both condoms and PrEP, so he was probably okay to skip condoms with Wyatt, he would never put Wyatt at risk. 
Kane’s stupid dick was going to have to deal with being covered up, and his primitive brain was going to have to accept it as well. 
“Come on. I want to spread you out and make love to you like I promised.” Kane didn’t feel weird or self-conscious at all saying that. 
Wyatt groaned. “I’m not some delicate dude, ya know.” 
“No, but you’re…” Kane told himself not to be a coward. “Your special to me. I care about you a lot.” I think I’m at least halfway in love with you, and I don’t know how it happened so quickly!
Wyatt’s expression seemed to go soft all over. “Think I know just how you feel. Only you, Kane.” 
Before Kane could ask what Wyatt had meant by that last part, Wyatt twisted around and opened the glove box. 
“Condoms,” Wyatt muttered as he faced Kane again. “And the blanket is—” 
Wyatt retrieved the blanket. He looked like he wanted to say something, opening his mouth for a second. 
But he didn’t speak, instead leaning in and kissing Kane’s cheek.