He thought of his old horse Roxeanne.
He thought of the pain and weight his captain carried.
And all Wyatt wanted to do was soothe him—take it and carry it for a night. Anything to see him smiling and at ease with himself as he had been at the bar a moment ago. That was the Donnelly he wanted. This one felt like a wounded wolf, scared and hostile, ready to attack rather than give.
“I…” Wyatt sucked in a breath.
Donnelly shook his head, staring up at the digital numbers leading them up to his hotel room.
Wyatt, biting his inner lip, stepped forward, drawing his attention, feeling the weight of his gaze and the tight cord in his own body as he exhaled. “I just want…”
You.
The tension in Donnelly’s expression broke like an explosion as he suddenly grabbed Wyatt by the front of his shirt with both hands and slammed him against the wall, rocking the elevator. “I have no intention of ruining my career for this, Lawson. Back off.”
Except Wyatt wasn’t the one pinning the other to the side of the elevator.
His actions and his words didn’t match, and they both knew it. They both felt the undeniable spark between them.
Wyatt’s hands reached upwards, clasping Donnelly’s, his fingers bunched and digging into his shirt.
“I can’t do this…” The vulnerability lacing Donnelly’s voice broke open, and Wyatt couldn’t help but sway closer, feeling Donnelly’s hot breath on his face.
“I won’t say anything,” Wyatt husked. “This stays between us…”
“Stop,” Donnelly commanded roughly and pushed back, untangling them. Wyatt stepped back only a few feet, careful not to touch.
“Let me take care of you,” Wyatt heard himself say. The exact words he’d said to the horses on the ranch over the years. The ones that fought and bucked and needed the most attention and care. “Please…”
Donnelly let out a strangled gasp as though he were drowning.
And at that moment, Wyatt realized that he was.
He was breaking, crumbling right in front of him, and all Wyatt wanted to do was soothe and touch and give. Give this man everything he had given Wyatt for the past six months—kindness, compassion, strength.
Donnelly’s eyes locked with his, scared and yet aroused. Unable to see anything else but that needy desire, Wyatt reached for him, fingers digging into his thick beard, feeling the coarse yet soft hair and yearning for more. “This stays here. You can trust me.”
Wyatt’s cock, hardening between his legs, brushed against Donnelly’s body, whose lips had parted with a soft groan as his eyes shut in resistance.
He was more than ready to plunge off this cliff and straight into Donnelly. Free-fall into oblivion with him.
But only if he’d let him.
He would not force him to do anything he didn’t want to.
Before either of them could do anything, the elevator door rang, and the doors silently slid open.
Chapter 4
John
John’s heart was ticking so fast he wondered if he was having a heart attack.
Because this was wrong, so fucking wrong, and he couldn’t stop it. He felt like he was swan diving out of a plane without a parachute. Lawson was brushing his gloriously hard cock against him, and all he could think was…more.
Please, fucking please, more.
But they had to stop. He couldn’t let this happen. John was supposed to be the responsible one, not Lawson. He was supposed to steer this ship and make smarter decisions than this.
