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But looking down reminded him of how he’d looked down last night, how he’d watched himself pumping in and out of Raider’s body. His cock twitched at the memory. Precum leaked from his slit. So Seth dropped his clothes and walked a little ways into the trees.
Bracing one hand on a palm tree, he wrapped his other around his cock and stroked. He worked himself hard, flicking his thumb over the plump, slick head, dragging his fingers across the swollen weight of his balls to bring himself to climax as quickly as possible. It felt good, of course, it always felt good.
But his purpose wasn’t really enjoyment. He just needed to come so he could think about something other than returning to that tent. Seth bit back his shout as his body strung tight. He spilled hotly onto the ground.
It didn’t help as much as it should have. He was still partially hard, still tempted by that tent. But he seized his goddamn self-control and put his clothes on. Then he busied himself with the fire and breakfast.
Seth had the farro simmering in the pan by the time Raider emerged from the silvery tent. He flung the tent’s panel out of his way like it annoyed him and stepped out, scowling ferociously.
Apparently, Raider’s customary morning irritability was not lessened by sex. If anything, he looked to be in an even worse mood that usual.
He was wearing only his dark blue silk pants, secured at his lean waist by a drawstring. The breezy, drop-crotch style was growing on Seth. At least, he couldn’t deny that it was damned sexy on Raider. Even if he was scowling like a demon.
“I don’t like the tent being closed,” Raider said sharply.
“You’re so goddamn cranky in the mornings.”
Seth used the wooden spoon to scoop some butter from its leather wrapping into the simmering farro and mixed carefully. He was giving the task more attention than it needed, busying himself. He wasn’t sure how to interact with Raider after last night.
Usually in the mornings, they didn’t interact much at all. Seth tended to ignore Raider’s morning irritability, but today it bothered him.
This was the problem with fucking someone.
It was never just sex, not for Seth. He’d gotten his warning after their encounter at the pool, but he hadn’t heeded that warning. He’d fucked Raider—roughly, deeply, baring a part of himself that he usually kept locked away.
Then there had been what came after. Taking care of Raider after fucking him like that had been necessary, obligatory, but … Seth had enjoyed it. Maybe as much as the sex.
Then, worse, he’d given in to his impulse to hold Raider, to feel the stillness of their bodies together. And not just for a minute, but all night.
It had felt right at the time, so fucking right, but it had changed something for Seth. It had made a connection that hadn’t been there before. Or perhaps it had simply made him unable to ignore the connection that had already been growing in spite of his efforts to stunt it.
Whatever the case, that connection made Seth unsure, now, what to do with this surly version of Raider.
(Seth probably wouldn’t have known what to do with any version of Raider this morning, but this version definitely bothered him.)
Seth’s thoughts abruptly refocused when he caught Raider’s movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to watch, brows lowering as Raider walked stiffly along the edge of the campsite. Something about the careful steps (and the fact that he’d gone behind Seth instead of in front) said he was trying to hide his discomfort, but the tight play of muscle in his abdomen and the stiff gait …
“Raider, are you—”
“I have to piss,” Raider said shortly, not looking at Seth.
Seth frowned as Raider walked off into the trees. He wasn’t exactly limping, but he definitely wasn’t moving right. Gods, had Seth hurt him?
They’d seemed so in sync last night, their needs so perfectly matched. To think he might have injured Raider …
The idea turned Seth’s stomach.
They would have to talk about this. Seth needed to know.
But Raider didn’t come back, not even when the farro was done. Ignoring his grumbling stomach, Seth took the pan from the heat and set it aside. He banked the fire. Then he went after Raider.
Seth found him with the horses, who had wandered away from the campsite to graze a patch of lush grass by the pool. Seth’s eyes flicked to the shelf of rock where he’d held Raider down and sucked him, when he’d first decided to ignore his better judgment.
Now, Raider was leaning against a boulder by the pool, the morning sun bathing his face. He was slowly working his left shoulder in a circular motion, grunting slightly with each rotation.
Seth didn’t remember twisting Raider’s arm, but maybe he had? Seth had drunk raaki beforehand. His memory might be skewed.
“You’re in pain.”
