According to Hoyle

by Abigail Roux

  Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, fussing with his shirt and mumbling about getting dirty after he’d just washed all the river mud off in the hotel’s bath. Cage held a cloth in the washbasin and watched him worriedly. He could see a lot of wounds, though Gabriel insisted he was fine.

  A bullet had grazed his arm, just enough to cause blood to well from the shallow furrow, and another had struck a glancing blow to his thigh. Cage had yet to convince Gabriel to allow him to examine it. There were also several slashing wounds on Gabriel’s ribs, but Cage didn’t worry about those. The thigh was what concerned him.

  Cage cleared his throat and pointed at Gabriel’s leg when the other man looked up at him. If the bullet was lodged in it, the gangrene would kill Gabriel quickly. He was fairly certain the bullet had gone through cleanly, though, which was a good thing. Cage had pulled bullets out of men before, but he didn’t relish the idea of digging one out of Gabriel. He didn’t know if he could cause Gabriel that kind of pain . . . He’d have to enlist Marshal Flynn for that job if the need arose. He might enjoy it.

  “It’s not your duty to tend to my wounds,” Gabriel said stubbornly, as if he knew what Cage had been pondering. “And it’s not that bad, I promise. If I could trudge up from the riverbank, it’ll be fine.”

  Cage drew the cloth from the washbasin and tossed it at him, hitting him square in the face with the cold, wet rag.

  Gabriel stood quickly and yanked the cloth from his face, gasping in surprise. He blinked at Cage with wide eyes, but then his lips quirked into a smile. “Temper,” he said evenly. He shook the cloth and folded it neatly, then gave Cage a measuring glance. “How are your injuries?”

  Cage shrugged as his hand went to his ribcage. He had taken a lot of punishment, but despite his ribs being bound up and sore, he no longer suspected they were broken or even cracked. He could walk and sit and bend a little, and he could carry some weight as well. Cage didn’t suppose he could do any of that without being in agony if the bones were really broken. He had a thin cut on his neck where Stringer’s knife had dug in too far, and numerous bruises on his face. But he would live.

  He picked up the washbasin and carried it over to the bed, kneeling next to Gabriel and setting it on the floor carefully. He looked up at Gabriel and patted the mattress, requesting that he sit back down.

  Gabriel shook his head in exasperation. “You are one muleheaded man, do you know that?” He undid his belt and pushed his trousers to the floor. stepping out of them and sitting obediently, offering up his thigh for Cage's inspection. He wore nothing beneath the trousers, and Cage bit his lip to keep from smiling.

  “They stole my underthings,” Gabriel said defensively.

  Cage peered up at him, dubious.

  “They did,” Gabriel insisted. His expression darkened. “And my grandfather’s pocket watch. A trip back to Junction City might be in order.”

  Cage bit his lip again and petted Gabriel consolingly on the knee. He was in for going back to Junction City for Gabriel’s watch.

  “Now you’re just humoring me,” Gabriel muttered. His shoulders slumped.

  Cage nodded and took the cloth from him. He did his best to clean the wound on Gabriel’s thigh, realizing as he wiped away the dried and drying blood that it wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared. It seemed they’d both come out of the night in better shape than they should have hoped for. Cage retrieved the clean linen bandages they’d bought and wrapped the wound tightly, causing Gabriel to hiss.

  Cage gave him an apologetic grimace.

  “Don’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  Cage’s hands slowed as he met Gabriel’s eyes. Gabriel merely continued to look down at him, his eyes expressive and full of questions that might never get asked or answered. He didn’t say anything further. Cage stared, letting the weight of the night slide away as he reminded himself they were both free men now, free to do as they liked, go where they pleased. And Gabriel’s first act as a free man had been to crawl out of the Mississippi and trudge right back to him. They were together.

  He reached up and brushed his fingers over Gabriel’s face. Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed, and Cage climbed toward him, kissing him hungrily as he pushed Gabriel’s back to the mattress.

  Gabriel’s arms wound around his neck and he made a muffled sound of surprise, but he returned the kiss wholeheartedly despite being caught off-guard. His teeth scraped against Cage’s upper lip as he nipped at him. Cage’s hands traveled up and down his body, appreciating the hard, lean muscles and the sinuous way Gabriel’s body wrapped around him as he pressed him into the thin mattress.

  Gabriel’s hands were almost immediately pushing at Cage’s trousers, and Cage’s body responded rapidly to the invitation. He shoved himself up and stood, carefully shucking his clothing as Gabriel unbuttoned his own shirt. He just barely managed to toss it over the side of the bed before Cage was on him again, kissing him and dragging his fingers over his skin. Their bodies pressed together, hot to the touch in the cold room. Gabriel clung to Cage’s neck, and he settled onto his back, obviously at ease with having Cage’s weight on him.

  Cage hummed appreciatively as they kissed each other, over and over.

  Gabriel hooked one leg over Cage’s hip. “Where’s that snake oil you talked me into buying?” he asked, his dark eyes sparkling with humor and desire. He couldn’t seem to pass up any chance at a wry comment on Cage’s silence, and Cage found it both endearing and exasperatingly amusing. Other men who made such jabs wouldn’t have gotten off so easily. It was just another twist to the spell Gabriel had cast over him.

  Cage’s lips twitched as he pushed off the mattress again, regretfully leaving the pleasure of Gabriel’s body to go in search of the parcel. When they’d bought the bandages and other supplies from the general store, Cage had thrown in a small ceramic bottle of Minard's Liniment, “The great internal and external remedy for man or beast!”

  Cage and Gabriel had both known it was just a step up from snake oil sold in the traveling medicine shows around the country. But rubbing it vigorously on sore muscles did feel good, and lord knew they would both have enough of those. They also knew it would slick up anything you wanted and keep it that way for a good long while if used in quantity. Snake oil had many uses for men like them.

  Cage retrieved it and returned to the bed eagerly, missing Gabriel’s touch as if he’d known it all his life. Gabriel wrapped his arms around him as soon as he was back on the bed, kissing him demandingly and arching his body to rub against him.

  Cage gave him a strangled groan and reached for his hip, holding him down as the contact stoked a fire inside him. He bent to kiss the length of Gabriel’s body, letting his lips linger against the heated skin of the more tender places and carefully avoiding the injuries. There were a good many of them, and Cage lifted his head to look at Gabriel uncertainly. This sort of thing could wait until they were both in better condition to enjoy it.

  Gabriel’s fingers drifted over the tightly wrapped linen around Cage’s torso. “Are you certain you’re well enough for this?” Gabriel asked.

  Cage snorted at him, not surprised that Gabriel had been thinking the same thing as he.

  He rested his hand on the bandaging on Gabriel’s own ribs, where he’d suffered several gashes from a knife. He raised an eyebrow and let his lips quirk.

  Gabriel got the message loud and clear. He tightened his knees around Cage’s waist. His voice was low and rough when he responded, and it was obvious to Cage that Gabriel was feeling the same desperate need he was. “Hang the hurts, Cage, we’ll get over them.”

  Cage nodded furtively and kissed him harder, although Gabriel’s initial concerns were valid; the burning in his ribs might soon overpower the need from his groin, and Cage couldn’t imagine that Gabriel was any better off. But Gabriel was right: they’d get over the aches and pains soon enough. They needed this first exploratory contact far too much to mind them yet.

  Cage pushed aga
inst Gabriel and groaned as he rubbed their lengths together. Gabriel spread his legs wider and slid both ankles over Cage’s calves, hooking his feet behind Cage’s knees. His fingers found their way into Cage’s hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, tightening his grip as he raised his hips to meet Cage’s. Cage bit at Gabriel’s chin, feeling like he might just explode with his desire to be closer. Gabriel’s uninhibited manner was more intoxicating than any Celestial man’s opium or saloon keeper’s whiskey could be. It wasn’t rare for men in the West to be intimate with each other, to touch each other for comfort or pleasure. It was rare for a man to admit he favored it and enjoyed it, though, and Cage couldn’t get enough of Gabriel’s enthusiasm.

  “I have an idea,” Gabriel gasped even as he continued to roll his hips against Cage.

  Cage groaned plaintively.

  “No, I know, but it’s actually a good one this time,” Gabriel insisted breathlessly.

  Cage shook his head. He’d had his fill of Gabriel’s ideas for one day, no matter how well the last few had turned out for them in the end. He took Gabriel’s hands and held them down, pinning him to the bed as he continued to slowly rut against him.

  Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted as he rested his head on the mattress. Cage took the opportunity to admire the man. His body was hard and solid against Cage’s, his lean muscles well-defined, not a pound of him wasted. His dark hair had curled after bathing, and the tendrils framed his handsome face against the white of the bed linens. His tanned, prominent cheeks were flushed with desire and pleasure, and his nimble fingers clenched around Cage’s hands with every movement of their bodies. Each exhale became a moan of pleasure as Cage rocked against him.

  Gabriel Rose was apparently a man who liked to be held down. Cage told himself to remember it as he kissed Gabriel again.

  “You don’t even want to hear my idea?” Gabriel asked without opening his eyes.

  Cage pressed his face into Gabriel’s neck and shook his head. He released one of his wrists and let his hand travel down until he could slide it beneath Gabriel’s hip. He pulled at him, clearly communicating what he did want.

  Gabriel immediately had his hand back in Cage’s long hair, tugging at it as he lifted his hips.

  Cage reached for the ceramic bottle of snake oil and used his teeth to yank out the cork. Gabriel laughed, the sound warm and arousing in its own right. Gabriel took the bottle from him and tipped it over Cage’s open palm. Neither of them wanted Cage to have to use both hands and take them off Gabriel. Cage gave himself the moment to appreciate how well Gabriel’s mind worked with his own as they impatiently watched the snake oil slide out into the palm of his hand. When Gabriel judged that there was enough, he righted the bottle and held it up to Cage, shoving it against the cork he still held in his teeth to stopper it up before he tossed the bottle aside.

  Cage slicked himself down hastily, taking more rough, demanding kisses from Gabriel as he did so. He didn’t know if his tired, bruised body would let him do all that he wanted to do to Gabriel, but he planned to give it his all-fired best. Gabriel moved under him, obviously intending to roll onto his belly, but Cage stopped him by tightening the grip on his wrist and sliding his slick hand between their bodies. He wanted Gabriel right here, wanted to see his eyes.

  Gabriel groaned and stretched his body out like a cat, pushing his legs farther apart so Cage could settle between them. Cage had rarely encountered a man so comfortable with this more intimate position. The willingness from his partner sent the already consuming heat coursing even faster through his body. Cage gripped him with his slick hand and pumped him several times, enjoying the look on Gabriel’s face as the pleasure rippled through him. Gabriel’s hand in his hair tightened until it was almost painful, and Cage knew he couldn’t draw it out any longer without the whole thing coming to an abrupt end for both of them.

  He took himself in hand, coating more of the thick snake oil on himself, and then he tugged at one of Gabriel’s knees. Gabriel lifted his leg obediently, and Cage hiked it up onto his shoulder. Gabriel tossed his head to the side and moved for him with a groan, whether of approval or pain Cage didn’t know. He belatedly remembered the wounds he’d just moments before been doctoring and worrying over, but if Gabriel wasn’t going to complain, Cage would let it be.

  He lined himself up as he held Gabriel’s hips off the mattress, his body trembling with the effort and the restraint it took to go slowly.

  Gabriel’s hands clutched at the sparse hair of Cage’s chest as Cage pushed into him, and Cage was unable to keep the moan of pleasure from passing his lips as he watched himself sink into Gabriel’s tight body. Gabriel echoed the sound as he rolled his hips and his body tensed against the intrusion, his short fingernails scraping down Cage’s chest. It was an easier entry than Cage had expected, and he briefly wondered who else had been riding Gabriel lately. It was a passing fancy, and an issue that didn’t matter to Cage as he rocked into his newfound lover.

  He began with measured, careful thrusts, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt either of them or shoot off his load too soon. But the way Gabriel moved with him and the sounds he made didn’t make it an easy task.

  Gabriel pulled his ankle up higher to rest against the small of Cage’s back, and his hands dug into Cage’s upper arms as he tried and failed to make him thrust harder into him. Cage grunted and fumbled to capture his wrists again, first extricating his arm from beneath Gabriel’s leg to grab one wrist and then the other as he pinned Gabriel to the bed. Gabriel linked both legs behind Cage’s back, smiling as if that had been his goal all along.

  Manipulative bastard. Cage huffed a fond laugh, then kissed the smile off his lips and thrust into him, hard. Gabriel gasped at the sudden change in the rhythm of their bodies. Cage continued the punishing thrusts, grunting with the effort as Gabriel moaned and tugged at his hands, trying to free his arms. When Cage’s grip loosened, Gabriel wrapped one arm around Cage’s neck, the other around his torso, and his nails dug into Cage’s skin as Cage fucked him hard and fast for a few more torturous, glorious minutes before slowing his pace once more.

  He was panting with every roll of his hips, and not merely from the exertion or pleasure of the act. Gabriel’s breaths were hot against his skin, and it felt so damn good inside him.

  When his rhythm began to falter, Gabriel gripped him hard and whispered into his ear, “Roll over, Cage.”

  Cage groaned and forced his hips to stop. He lowered his head against Gabriel for a moment of pure pleasure before he gripped his lover tightly and rolled both their bodies to the side.

  Cage found himself on his back, Gabriel astride him with his hands on Cage’s stomach and his chin raised as he rocked his hips and forced Cage fully back inside him. Cage watched raptly as Gabriel took himself in hand and began to stroke in time with his slow rocking.

  Even being ridden by another man, Gabriel still found a way to guide the horse.

  Cage reached for his hips and held on to him, enjoying the sinuous movement beneath his fingertips almost as much as the clench and slide around his dick. Gabriel’s moans deepened as he rode Cage, and his hand moved faster as he pleasured himself. Cage found his hips pushing upward almost of their own accord, and every time, Gabriel would groan plaintively and his body would jerk and tighten.

  Finally, it appeared he could take no more, and his body bowed forward, Cage’s name on his lips as the evidence of his pleasure pulsed over his fingers and onto Cage’s stomach. Cage watched him reach his end, entranced and overwhelmed by the sight. His body screamed at him to find his own release, and he gripped Gabriel’s hips hard and bucked under him like an unruly mount that refused to be broken.

  Gabriel called out hoarsely and threw his head back, first merely holding onto Cage as he rode him, and then regaining his senses enough to roll his hips and meet the wild thrusts. Cage would come almost completely out of him, then slam back into him with the satisfying slap of their damp bodies.

  It
didn’t take long for Cage to break. He sat up to wrap his arms around Gabriel and kiss him passionately, holding him still as he emptied himself into his new lover’s willing body.

  Any hesitation Flynn and Wash had harbored over sex with each other had disappeared once they shared their first private kiss. Stepping inside the room at the hotel had offered an awkward few seconds, but Wash had taken care of that by tugging Flynn to him and kissing him greedily.

  They hadn’t stopped since.

  Wash’s lips gave under Flynn’s as they wrapped around one another. They’d somehow found their way to the bed, and Flynn had come out on top, momentarily at least.

  Wash lifted his knees to squeeze Flynn between them, and he pulled one hand away from Flynn’s back to grasp at his neck and hair. Flynn propped his weight on his knuckles, then he slid his hand under Wash’s shoulder and lifted him off the mattress. He rubbed against him slowly, knowing they’d both enjoy the friction.

  Neither of them was by any means a virgin, but their first encounter with each other was still fraught with nerves and awkward first attempts. Flynn found they were able to laugh off the moments where they both turned their heads the same way to kiss, or knocked noses in their urgency to taste each other. Flynn had never done this with a man, and the thought of slipping inside Wash made his entire body tingle with both anticipation and fear.

  “You done this before?” Flynn asked, surprised by how breathless and needy he sounded.

  “Not . . . not like this,” Wash admitted.

  “I hate to lead off with caution, but . . .”

  Wash nodded, somehow knowing what Flynn was trying to say. “We got time to get there.”

  Flynn kissed him again, harder and messier than before. Wash groaned and arched up into him, his fingers digging in as he let Flynn do as he pleased.

  Flynn moved down his body slowly, pushing away clothing in order to kiss and nip at his skin, making sure he thoroughly explored all the new places and sensations as Wash squirmed beneath him. He slid his hand under the rough material of Wash’s trousers and undergarments, inching them down just enough to lick at the juncture of his hip and thigh.