by Riley Knight
Again, he did his best with the limited clothing that he had, but he was really going to have to go out, find the nearby town, which he understood was called Atwood and didn’t even have fifteen hundred inhabitants, and hope that he could find some place to buy something more appropriate for being on a ranch.
Dinner was the typical friendly, almost familiar affair, but Kyle stayed quiet through most of it and just listened. When it was over, he went to the kitchen to help with the dishes, even though Anna would have been happy to do them herself. There was no reason, he figured, that he couldn’t at least be a good guest.
Which sounded funny, given the situation, he thought.
“Don’t you have anything better to wear?”
The voice caught him by surprise, and Kyle turned around abruptly to look at Malcolm, who had apparently followed him into the kitchen. He sighed softly. On top of everything else, he had to deal with this cowboy criticizing his clothing now, and the fact that he had been thinking the same thing about his own clothing didn’t change the fact that it was annoying that someone else was doing it.
“Sorry, am I offending your amazing fashion sense?” Kyle shot back, a little bit stung, as stupid as he knew it was to let Malcolm get to him. The man was a huge pain in his ass, which didn’t explain why Kyle wanted him so damn much. Except maybe that he was some sort of masochist, drawn to the person who had to be the worst for him in the entire world.
“Whoa, calm down, I was just asking,” Malcolm commented, and Kyle sighed, a lot of the anger going out of him all in a rush. Was it Malcolm’s fault that Kyle had been completely unprepared for this assignment? That he hadn’t had time to do even basic research before being rushed off to do a job that he wasn’t even qualified to do?
“I don’t have anything else. Okay?” Kyle spoke through gritted teeth, hating to admit to something like that. It might seem stupid, he knew that, but he hated to admit to any sort of weakness under any circumstances.
Malcolm, at the very least, didn’t mock him for the comment. He didn’t say anything at all, which was probably the best case scenario. He just turned and walked out of the kitchen, and Kyle didn’t think anything of it until he was leaving after the dishwasher was loaded and the few dishes which didn’t fit into it were done and stacked in the drying rack.
It wasn’t until he was headed to his room that he ran into Malcolm, who still didn’t say a word. He just handed him a stack of clothing, then disappeared without a word.
They were soft and worn, nothing like the stiff, formal suits that he usually wore, and when Kyle raised the stack, in the safety of his own room, to his face and inhaled deeply, he smelled laundry detergent but more than that he smelled a distinct, unique, musky scent that he knew was Malcolm’s.
Damn it. This job just got harder and harder. How on earth was he supposed to keep his hands to himself when Malcolm did something so sweet, and for someone that he obviously did not see eye to eye with?
The clothes were too big, of course, but they were, by far, the most comfortable thing that Kyle had had on his body in years. And that warm, slightly spicy, and deeply masculine scent rose around him, both comforting him and arousing him so that he could barely breathe.
EIGHT
As far as trying to force Kyle away, no one had to tell Malcolm that he was failing spectacularly.
He could have gone to Logan, he supposed, and asked him to take care of the issue, but he found himself, for some stupid reason, not sure that he wanted to encourage Logan to be around Kyle. Not that Logan was necessarily even interested, though he definitely seemed that way more and more.
And so what if he was? Malcolm didn’t own Kyle, wouldn’t want to even if Kyle did. Still, he had gotten the clothes, his own clothes, and he had given them to Kyle, and all of that meant that he sort of just royally sucked at being a jerk.
If only there wasn’t this stupid connection between himself and Kyle. He got the sense that Kyle didn’t like it any more than Malcolm did, but it was sort of like they kept being drawn closer together, and the closer they got to each other the closer they wanted to get. So what the hell was he supposed to do about that?
If only Kyle would leave. Having him here was too confusing. On the other hand, he had tried what his father had asked him to, and he’d had no luck at all, so maybe he should go with his initial plan and stay the hell away from the guy. That would probably be easier because what had happened that day had been dangerous. Or rather, what could have happened, if Logan hadn’t stopped it?
Sighing, Malcolm lounged on the couch, gazing out the window at the darkness outside. It was pouring rain, with droplets being hurled against the glass like someone was drumming with impatient fingers on it. The wind howled, too, whistling eerily around the house and making Malcolm truly, deeply grateful that he had a warm, safe place to spend this stormy night.
“Is it going to do this for long?”
The voice was smooth and seductive as ever, but there was an undertone of something in it, something filled with prickly energy which made Malcolm shift restlessly on the couch. Or maybe it was just being in the same room as Kyle, with the knowledge that it was late enough now that everyone else would be in bed.
He was alone with a man who was the most distracting, intensely sexual influence on Malcolm that he’d ever felt, and it was like all of his hairs stood up on end from the moment that he heard that voice.
“Maybe. Storms around here can blow around a fair bit before they blow themselves out,” Malcolm replied, and he was very pleased with himself when he heard how steady and even and neutral his voice was. No one hearing him speak, he was pretty sure, would have any idea how fast his heart was pounding in his chest, like it might break through his ribcage.
“Wonderful,” Kyle muttered, and it was just then that Malcolm, drawn in by that prickly tone of voice, turned to look at Kyle directly for the first time since he’d entered the room. The man was pale, his eyes remote and opaque, and as he stepped further into the room Malcolm realized something.
This man was terrified.
He wasn’t having a panic attack or anything, he was as tightly controlled as he usually seemed to want to stay, but Malcolm was looking at someone who was scared. So scared that, as he came closer, Malcolm could see that he was shaking.
Just as he realized this, that was when the first flash of lightning arced through the sky, followed seconds after by a crash of thunder. The storm was fully underway, and while it startled Malcolm a little, the effect it had on Kyle was quite a bit more acute.
Kyle yelped.
It was an adorable noise, actually, but completely unexpected from the usually calm, restrained, sarcastic Kyle. Without even thinking about it, Malcolm rose to his feet and reached out, putting a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. At the moment, this man wasn’t an obstacle. He wasn’t even a man that Malcolm was far more attracted to than he should be. He was just a scared person who was suffering.
“Are you afraid of storms?” he asked, and Kyle shot him a dirty look that said more than any words could. Yes, Kyle was, and he was clearly pretty aware that it was not a rational fear to have, but he had it anyway.
“Shut up,” Kyle muttered, and Malcolm found himself acting on pure instinct. He wrapped an arm around Kyle’s slender shoulders, and yes, he discovered, Kyle was shaking, trembling like a leaf caught in the storm outside.
Gently, Malcolm guided Kyle down onto the couch, holding him. There was, despite his desire for the other man, nothing sexual about it. Not right at the moment, not with Kyle so obviously terrified.
“Just breathe,” he recommended, and while Kyle was stiff and unresponsive against him for a second, it didn’t take long before he buried his face in Malcolm’s shoulder, hiding his eyes from the brilliant flashes of white lightning which kept coming in through the window.
“It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m just freaked out by storms,” Kyle managed, but just the fact that he was speaking at a
ll seemed to show that he was calming down.
“I’m not a huge fan of snakes,” Malcolm admitted in return, not sure why other than that he wanted to show that he understood irrational fears. “Logan’s always making fun of me for it. One time he threw a rubber snake at me and I almost pissed myself.”
Kyle laughed, and Malcolm couldn’t help a wry grin, though honestly, he was pleased with himself. To pull someone as scared as Kyle was out of it enough to draw out a chuckle, that was a big deal.
They lapsed into silence then, but one that wasn’t uncomfortable. Kyle’s shaking slowly subsided, and Malcolm became very aware of Kyle’s body against his. He had just been thinking that this comforting thing wasn’t a sexual thing, but all of a sudden, his body begged to differ on that count.
Kyle shifted against him, and Malcolm’s hand caressed down his arm quite by accident. That was when he noticed something that he had been distracted from before.
Kyle was wearing the clothes that Malcolm had given him.
They were too big, of course. But that, his overactive imagination informed him cheerfully, just meant that he was going to be able to take them off easier. Not that he was going to, but he could. He could just barely tug on the waistband of Kyle’s pants and they would slip right off, he was positive.
And that was a thought that he didn’t need to have.
Why was that so hot? Why hadn’t he thought about that before? Malcolm closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting off a groan, but that didn’t help because that just drew the scent of Kyle’s tight little body deep into his lungs. Only that scent, one that was becoming familiar to Malcolm, was mixed with his own scent. And it seemed right like those were two smells that should be mingling.
Kyle moved against him again, and it could have seemed just like he was getting comfortable, but then the smaller man looked up at him with those big brown eyes, pupils wide open and lips parted. Their eyes met, and Malcolm’s breath snagged in his throat, a rush of pure sensation, pure need, going through him when he realized what was going on.
Just like Malcolm, Kyle was turned on.
It had been a terrible idea, in retrospect, to snuggle close to Kyle. Malcolm should have known better. He could remember all too clearly earlier in the day when he and Kyle had been pressed close together, how the contact of their eyes had felt somehow even more intimate than sex was with most other people.
Malcolm didn’t know who moved first. One second, their eyes met, and the next, Kyle’s slender body was in Malcolm’s lap, straddling him, his hands on that tiny waist as he pulled him close. His fingers caressed Kyle’s waist and, just like he had known would happen, he found that he was easily able to slip his fingers into the waistband of the too-big sweats.
Neither of them spoke. If they did, Malcolm knew, then one of them would say something wrong and this wouldn’t happen. He didn’t want to think about what this meant, for him or Kyle or the two of them together.
When their lips met, it felt somehow inevitable.
The first contact was gentle, just a slight brushing of their lips together, as though both of them were trying to figure out if the other one was going to stop, if this was something that they really wanted to do, if one or both of them would come to their senses. There was a question in that kiss, which happened as naturally as breathing, though this was, Malcolm remained aware, the absolute last person that he should be kissing.
Kyle’s lips were soft and slightly dry and yielding under the slight pressure of Malcolm’s mouth. Then they parted and Malcolm felt the brush of a hot, sweet, teasing little tongue as it swept over the seam of his lips, pressing them open so it could dart inside and find his own.
What had started off almost wary soon heated up, and the moment their tongues met and tangled, Malcolm was lost. He had fought this so hard. From the moment that he had first laid eyes on Kyle, he had been fighting this—fighting urges that he had told himself he shouldn’t be having for a man, for any man.
“I’m not into guys.”
It was Kyle who said the words, which made Malcolm give a little start of surprise. He had just been thinking the same thing, and it could have just as easily been he who said them, not Kyle. But it made the whole thing that much more confusing. If Kyle wasn’t into guys, why had Logan said that the man was gay? Was Logan just wrong?
That kiss hadn’t felt like Kyle wasn’t into guys, but then, Malcolm had been right there kissing Kyle back, and he had always said that he wasn’t really into guys, either.
“So what?” he said back, as casually as he could, even though his lips were still tingling and his breathing was a little bit rough. “Neither am I. It’s no big deal.”
Kyle tilted his head to the side, looking at Malcolm like he could see deep into his soul, somehow, like he knew all of Malcolm’s insecurities and fears, his occasional worries that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in men more than women.
Certainly, his cock had never been this hard for anyone, male or female. Certainly, his body had never reacted like this to anyone before. He might hate to admit it, and he would definitely not say anything to Kyle about it, not when Kyle had just said that he wasn’t into men, but sometimes, deep down, in areas that he barely acknowledged in his own psyche, he wondered.
“It doesn’t change anything,” Kyle challenged, his cheeks flushed with high, rosy color, his eyes brilliant, his lips parted with his own rapid growth. When Malcolm moved just a little bit under Kyle, he could feel his erection pressing against his own, and whatever words were passing between the two of them, somehow they didn’t matter all that much. It was denial, pure and simple, and it somehow seemed necessary to give Kyle permission to continue.
It didn’t hurt Malcolm, either, to be honest.
“Yeah. You’re still trying to kick my family and me off my land,” Malcolm reminded them both. “And I’m still not going to let you. If you want to go, I won’t stop you.”
He paused, waited, his hands on Kyle’s waist but only lightly. He could easily put Kyle off of himself, the man was so much smaller than him, but somehow, he couldn’t be the one to stop this. Even though he knew that he should, even though this was absolutely the last thing that he should be doing, he couldn’t quite seem to make himself pull away.
“Just shut up,” Kyle growled and then cupped the back of Malcolm’s head, fingers slipping through his short hair, and kissed him again. Only this was a completely different kiss, like some sort of switch had been flipped inside of Kyle. This kiss was hard and rough and deep, almost, Malcolm thought, possessive. There was no question in it anymore, just desire, hot and urgent and claiming.
Something in Malcolm yielded to the kiss, and if there had been any remaining doubt about his own willingness in his mind, it was instantly gone. They had said all that needed to be said, neither of them would have any illusions about just what this was. There didn’t seem to be any reason to hold back.
So he kissed Kyle back, he gave control of his mouth over to the gorgeous man, and it surprised him just how much control Kyle was willing to take. The few guys that Malcolm had been with, they had expected him to be the one to take control, but this tiny, sexy little man was showing him something completely new.
Malcolm’s fingers snagged once more in the waistband of Kyle’s pants, and he didn’t even think about it this time. He just slid those pants right off of Kyle, kissing him over and over again as his fingers closed around the length of his cock.
In their position, Malcolm couldn’t see Kyle’s cock, but he could feel it, a solid, hot weight in his palm as his fingers caressed along the shaft. Kyle was big, bigger than he would have thought for such a small man, thick rather than long, and burning hot in Malcolm’s grasp.
“Fuck, yeah. Touch me,” Kyle growled, and it was enough of a shock, the tone of his voice, but had the man actually cursed? Uptight, snooty Kyle, with the stick lodged so firmly up his ass that Malcolm would have thought he would need it surgically removed, had actually s
aid the word fuck?
He was seeing a whole new side of Kyle, and, unfortunately for him, he found that he liked it. He liked it far too much and found himself desperately wanting to see just how far this could go, how much he could make this man lose control.
It had been a while since he’d touched another cock, but Malcolm’s hand still knew what to do. And when he stroked with just a little bit of force, just a little bit rough, Kyle gave the sexiest little groans, both of them trying to keep it at least a little bit quiet, but those noises were the most intensely erotic thing that Malcolm had ever heard.
“Touch yourself, too,” Kyle demanded, his fingers tugging at Malcolm’s jeans, pulling them open and lowering them just enough that Malcolm could pull his own erection out. He shuddered as he freed his dick, then pressed it up against Kyle’s length, burning hot against him, and wrapped his large hand around them both at the same time.
It was all very quick, and Malcolm, at least, never lost track of the fact that they were right out in the living room. It was late enough at night that everyone was fast asleep, there was really no risk at all, just enough to be tantalizing. Just enough that they had to be quiet as they strained together, as they kissed and even nipped lightly at each other’s lips.
Jerking them both off at the same time, Malcolm felt his own hand, and Kyle’s cock, and the slickness of their precome as it mingled between them. He was already getting close, but then Kyle, who really seemed to know what he was doing for a man who was apparently not into other men, turned it up another notch.
Kyle’s hand rested on Malcolm’s, their fingers caressing. He squeezed, making Malcolm’s fingers clench around them both with even more intensity, and that was when Malcolm completely and totally lost it.
He would have cried out if not for the kiss which stifled his noises, but that was okay because he could feel the vibrations on his tongue and lips as Kyle used that kiss to shut himself up, too. Locked together like that, joined through their shared kiss, Malcolm couldn’t help the pleasure which rolled through him, the eroticism of the forbidden caresses getting to him so that even something as simple as jerking himself off became too good for him to handle, almost.
