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“How come she married someone else? Why not you? Seems to me she’d be damn lucky to have you.”
Butch raised his eyebrows.
Race chuckled. “Oh, come on. You’re a good-looking dude. Put it this way.Iwouldn’t kick you outta bed for eatin’ crackers.”
What the fuck?
Before Butch could find a suitable response, Race flushed. “Sorry. I shoot my mouth off sometimes. Tends to get me into trouble.”
Butch propped his head up in one hand. “You get a lot of guys in your bed?” His heartbeat quickened, and sounding normal took real effort.
Race grinned. “A few. But I’ve never shared a bed with one of ’em just to sleep. You are definitely a first. I put it down to that look you had about you, as if you needed rescuing.”
“So… you’re gay?”
“Bi, actually.” Race stilled. “Houston, do we still have a problem?”
Ice and heat vied for control of Butch’s body. “I… I guess not.”
Race’s eyes glittered. “Dude. I amnotabout to jump on your bones, okay? Like I said, tonight is all about sleepin’.” And with that, he stretched out a hand to the bedside lamp and plunged the room into initial darkness. “G’night.”
It took Butch’s heart a moment to return to its normal rhythm. “Night.” From the sound of Race’s breathing, he was already asleep.
Butch didn’t shift position, but lay on his side, watching the lights from the passing cars in the street below creating patterns on the ceiling.
Well, this is a first.And certainly not how he’d expected the day to end.
Then fatigue crashed over him, and he was out like a light.
Butch had no idea of the time. Outside was quiet, so he guessed it was the early hours of the morning. He opened his eyes, wondering what had awoken him.
Something was different.
His chest was pressed up against Race’s solid warm back, his arm draped across Race’s waist—and his bare cock was trying to make itself a nest between Race’s ass cheeks.
Butch froze, listening for any sign Race was awake.
Nope.
He wanted to move, but for the first time in his life he was wrapped around another person, anddamn, it felt good.
Then it hit him.
He was hard.
Fuck.
He closed his eyes and explored the sensations. Race smelled of cotton sheets, a lingering scent of something spicy, and underneath it all, a musky aroma that reminded Butch of the bunkhouse. He wanted to move in case Race woke up and got the wrong idea. Butch was used to waking up with a raging case of morning wood, but if it washimhaving to deal with a hard-on up close and personal behind him? Yeah, that would be weird.
Race might think I wanted to do… something else.
But in the next breath he wanted to stay a while, to enjoy this new experience. He craned his neck to gaze at the sleeping Race—and saw his tattoo in the room’s dim light.
Butch removed his arm as though contact with Race’s skin had burned him. He shifted across the mattress to his own side, and rolled over.
“Hmm? Wha?” Race’s drowsy voice broke the silence, and Butch did his damnedest to breathe as though he was asleep, frozen into immobility, waiting for slumber to claim Race once more. It didn’t take long for his breathing to drop back into its previous pattern, and Butch relaxed.
You moved like you were scared shitless.
