Tyler interjected, once again. “Darlin’, why would he change his mind? You’re not asking him to suck your dick, just watch your condo for a spell.”
He felt his face heating, flames licking up his collar. He’d grown used to his cowboy’s crude way of speaking. In the country, all the men spoke in the same way, no time to worry about being politically correct. He didn’t mind Tyler’s mannerisms. In fact, they endeared him to his cowboy, but people not used to it would probably be shocked to the core.
Then Franco laughed, a deep belly laugh that filled the apartment. “If I were you, I’d have picked a man just like Tyler. Hey, you into sports?”
“Bronc riding mostly. Marcus made me give up the bulls.” Tyler leaned over his knees, both men ignoring him, becoming interested in their small talk.
“Sounds just like Marcus.” Franco laughed again, his stiff stature softening. “He’s always been an old stick in the mud.”
Tyler squeezed his knee. “Not anymore. He’s becoming a regular drifter. No more folded napkins and antibacterial soap for him.”
The two men continued to compare stories about Marcus, but he knew they both loved him, so it was easy to ignore—even though embarrassing at times.
Marcus felt he’d crossed an ocean, an impossible hurdle. One of his dear family members now knew he was gay and apparently was okay with it, more than okay, even chumming up to his lover. An immense weight was lifted from his shoulders as they returned to the car hours later. The sun was lowering on the horizon, so they’d have to choose a hotel for the night. So many things were on the cusp of changing, all for the better, but right now they were in the center of chaos and confusion, which left Marcus uniquely vulnerable. He needed Tyler at his side more than ever.
* * * *
“Fancy.” Tyler looked around the room. This place was nothing like the shitholes he’d stayed at on many occasions. It was artistically decorated, neat, clean, and spacious.
“At least we don’t have to worry about strange stains on the bedding or about someone crawling through the window to steal your boots.” Marcus collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tyler hated for him to have so much stress and worry. It wasn’t natural, and certainly not the cowboy way. Nobody lived a day longer by worrying about things. In fact, it could age a man before his time.
He sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off his boots, and tossed his hat on the nightside table. “You wanna talk?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I know you better than that. You love talkin’. Tell me why the corners of your eyes are all crinkled up. Are you regretting something?”
“Just worried. There’s so much to plan, so much to think about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
“You’re gonna worry yourself sick. There’s nothing to plan. Your condo will sell when it sells. Until then we live day to day and enjoy life. Once it sells, we’ll find a nice little place, pool our money, and put down a nice, fat down payment. Now, let me do the worrying. It doesn’t sit well with you.”
He blew out a breath. “I wish I could think like you.”
Tyler had had enough of Marcus and the black cloud he allowed to hover over him. In Tyler’s mind, this was the best time of his life, full of possibilities. He’d found a man he loved and had taken the leap to commit. Marcus’s forearm lay across his eyes, his legs below the knee dangling off the edge of the bed. Tyler stood up and grabbed the man’s belt in his fist, giving him a jerk.
“What’re you doing?” He raised his head, looking sinfully sexy with his dark features and curious scowl.
Tyler unclasped his belt and peeled back the flaps of his pants. “Taking away your stress.” He freed his semi-flaccid cock, which was already firming up just from the slight touch.
Marcus didn’t refute him, just dropped his head back on the mattress. As soon as Tyler sucked him into his mouth, he groaned and muttered, “I love it when you suck my dick.”
“And I love your dick any way I can get it.” He proceeded to indulge on Marcus’s now stiff erection, licking, teasing, and sucking. His flesh was warm and silky. Tyler loved cock, loved Marcus. The way the city boy lost himself, forgot his stress so he could focus on the pleasure, made Tyler want to go down on him every day. Maybe he would.
“Oh, yeah.” Marcus groaned and reached for Tyler’s shoulders. He grabbed handfuls of his shirt, directing him to give more, which he delivered. Tyler hollowed his cheeks and sucked him hard and deep, working up to a frantic rhythm. Any minute and Marcus would detonate, and this time he wanted it to happen in his mouth. This wasn’t just about sex. It was about helping Marcus find some temporary peace.
As he began to come, he tried to pull free, but Tyler pinned his wrists as his side and swallowed every drop of his ejaculate. Marcus writhed, struggled, and moaned until his prolonged release finally eased and his body went pliant. Tyler crawled up on the bed over his body. “Did that help?”
“I think I should worry in front of you more often.” He glanced up through hooded eyes. “Let me do something for you.”
Tyler shook his head and dropped down beside him. “Take a rest. When you wake up we’ll order some room service. I can’t wait to see what this upscale place has to offer.” He gave Marcus a kiss and went to hit the shower. Tyler could get used to this kind of living. Now he just had to teach his boyfriend to follow the direction of the stream rather than trying to dam it.
Chapter Thirteen
Marcus shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He’d been sitting under the sheltered bleacher-style seats, but now that Tyler was in the ring, he wanted a good view. And did he ever look magnificent with his leather chaps and cowboy hat. The crowd cheered as soon as the announcer said his name. His boyfriend was becoming a legend, and he bet Cavendish was kicking its ass for not signing him, gay or not. Times were changing, and Marcus was quickly learning that change was good. Not everything could be programmed into a BlackBerry scheduler. Sometimes a man had to go where life took him, not knowing where he’d sleep the next night. As long as he had Tyler, everything else would fall into place.
“Eight seconds,” said a voice from behind him. “That’s all it takes to make or break a cowboy.” He turned to find that same lazy-eyed man from months ago, the one Tyler said was his abusive foster brother. Marcus alternated from watching Tyler in the ring to keeping tabs on the creep behind him.
“Tyler will always be a winner,” he said proudly, daring the man to contradict him. This loser was the one giving his true love nightmares. The reason he’d almost broken up their relationship over? When he turned back after checking on Tyler when the buzzer sounded, the man was gone, disappeared into the crowd of spectators. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Should he tell Tyler about this? He didn’t want to worry him for nothing. Marcus couldn’t imagine that trailer park reject making any real trouble for them.
They recently signed the mortgage papers for their new home. The closing date was in just three weeks. They were both so excited and eager to settle into a regular routine mixed with spontaneity. The two men complemented each other perfectly, bringing out the best in one another.
“You see me?” Tyler was out of breath, removing the wound up protective fabric from around his gloves. The crowd parted for them as they made their way away from the ring. Fans patted him on the back and praised him. Tyler was forever gracious, even when exhausted, smiling and shaking hands.
“You looked great out there.” He tried not to let any concern slip into his tone and ruin his shining moment. Even as they walked side by side he continually replayed the strange man’s words over and over in his head. Were they meant to threaten Tyler? He could only imagine what those heathens did to his sweet cowboy.
They were staying at another one-star hotel, but in these small rodeo towns there was often little selection. It was better than sleeping in the car or truck, as Tyler apparently did on many occasions before they met. “I’m starved. How about
I take a quick shower, and then we can go get a bite to eat?”
“Sounds good.” He continually scanned the streets, ready for a sneak attack of some kind. Marcus wouldn’t allow any assholes from Tyler’s past to ruin what they were building together. Their new place was out in the country with fifty acres. Tyler mentioned he’d love to get into horse breeding when his body became too weary for the ring. They had dreams, big ones, little ones, even silly ones…but they were their dreams, and he wouldn’t have an outsider try and steal away what was theirs.
By the time they left the hotel for dinner, Marcus was downright paranoid. He’d continually checked out the window of their one-story hotel, jotted down license plate numbers of strange vehicles, and was jumpier than a guilty child. Could Tyler just have overreacted? Maybe it wasn’t his foster brother who slashed the tires. Coincidences happened every day, didn’t they?
They entered the local diner. At this point they all looked the same to Marcus. He hadn’t sacrificed his dietary habits, but he’d compromised a bit. They took a table at the end of the diner. “I wonder if they have salads here,” he said, glancing at the menu.
“Darlin’, you need meat. Men need meat.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. They’d had this mock fight too many times to count.
“If they don’t have salad on the menu I’ll make sure they whip one up special for you.” He believed it. What Tyler wanted, happened. He reached across the table and took Marcus’s hand in his. “Remember that first night? We were sitting at a table just like this, and I took your hand in mine. Little did I know you’d change my life forever.”
“I came to try and snag you for Cavendish, but I got you for myself.” He kissed Tyler’s knuckles, so full of love for this cowboy he couldn’t begin to describe it. Those green eyes seemed to look into his soul. Then the moment came crashing down when Tyler’s attention was pulled to the aisle.
“You find yourself a new boyfriend, Tye?” Two men, one the stranger from earlier, sidled up next to their booth. Tyler froze in place, his face a blank slate. The stale odor of cigarettes and alcohol was strong on the men’s clothing.
“What do you want, Adam?” Tyler pulled his hands away, his posture straightened.
“It’s a public place. We’re just here to eat.”
“Then we’ll leave.” When Tyler attempted to stand, Adam, the man with the lazy eye, pressed down on his shoulder.
He bent low to speak directly to Tyler. “I heard about your record placement today. What did I tell you about tainting a real man’s sport?”
Marcus studied Tyler, not sure if he should speak for him. His cowboy’s jaw twitched and fists were clenched hard. Any minute and he’d strike. Tyler may have been more than twice as buff as the two assholes, but there were two of them, both husky and menacing.
“Tyler’s more a man than you’ll ever be. If you’re so worried about the future of the sport, why aren’t you in the ring? Because you know he’d kick your ass all the way ’til Friday.”
No one spoke. Marcus was quite proud.
A waitress approached. “Problem here, boys?”
“Nope. We were just leaving,” said Adam. “But we’ll be seeing you two later.”
Had he really yelled loud enough to attract the waitress? The threat muttered was clearly evident, but at least they were leaving the diner. Marcus felt the adrenaline leak from his pores once they were out of sight.
“Where did all that come from?” Tyler stared at him as if he’d just walked on water.
“What?” He shrugged and smirked. “You do the same for me all the time. I wasn’t going to sit here while they tried to tear you down.”
“That’s my job, Marcus. I’m supposed to take care of you.” He ran his hand through his tousled brown hair. “How can I protect you every second? They’re always around, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”
“Soon we’ll have our own place, safe and off the radar.”
“Don’t you get it? It’ll take just one time for them to follow us home or find out our address from one place or another and then we’re fucked.”
Marcus wouldn’t accept this. He wouldn’t let bullies ruin his chance at happiness. Hadn’t they done enough to Tyler when he was growing up? He kept quiet. They ordered, ate, and had coffee. The night beyond the glass beside them was black and impenetrable by human eyes due to the glare from the indoor lighting. They were both stalling, delaying the inevitable.
“What would you do if I wasn’t here?” Marcus finally asked. Quiet was far worse than fighting in his opinion. A silent dagger working its way into his gut. At least a punch was over with in an instant, not a lingering torture.
“I’d fight ’em.”
Marcus got up from his seat, tossed some bills on the table, and headed for the exit.
* * * *
Where the hell was he going? He wasn’t taking the threat seriously. Tyler knew what his foster brothers were capable of. They were sadistic bastards, hate-filled, and ruthless. Not even the animals on their ranch had been safe from those two. Tyler had always done his best to defend the cowdogs and livestock, but he couldn’t always be there and he was just a scrawny kid back then. He’d come home one day after a back-breaking day on the fields to find his favorite dog under his blankets, dead. It was one cruelty after the other. Now he had Marcus to consider.
“Get back here!” he called out into the darkness. He could only see the whites from the stripe on Marcus’s shirt.
He caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm. “Tyler, stop babying me. I’m a grown fucking man. You don’t have to protect me from some jerks from your past. I don’t understand the hold they have on you, but it has to stop.”
“They’re not normal people. They live off the grid. Law and order mean nothing to them, trust me.” He held Marcus close, unwilling to have him disappear into the darkness.
“I won’t have them ruin what we’ve started together,” he whispered. Tyler pulled him into his arms and held him, cooing against his ear. He could stand like this forever.
A shrill whistle cut through the moment, abruptly pulling Tyler into reality. “Look at the lovebirds, Glen.”
Adam laughed. “This is the future of the rodeo? A bunch of queers holding hands?”
Tyler pushed Marcus behind him. He wasn’t afraid for himself. And he wasn’t surprised they were waiting for him. He’d been through hell and back numerous times in his life—from his time on his foster ranch to countless injuries in the ring and bar fights. He could handle himself, but the thought of one finger touching his boyfriend made him more dangerous than a mother bear guarding her cub.
Marcus yelled over his shoulder, “He’s got more going than you. Where’re your prize buckles? Do you even have a wife, or do you go home and jerk off every night?”
“Hush,” said Tyler. He didn’t need to rile men that were already raring to go.
“That’s right. You best listen to your boyfriend if you know what’s good for you,” said Adam.
“You best watch the way you speak to him,” Tyler threatened. He wasn’t sure if either man had a weapon, and his gun was under the mattress in his hotel room. Either way, he’d be using his fists.
The moonlight glimmered off a metallic surface. He hadn’t even thought of a knife. A knife was so much more threatening, could cause more pain and suffering than a single gunshot. His foster brothers often played with knifes in the past, taunting him, insisting they’d cut off his balls if he didn’t do what they demanded. Those traitorous childhood fears seeping into his mind, but they had no place there. Tyler wasn’t a skinny teen anymore with no one to turn to. He was a grown man, bigger than most, and he had Marcus’s love to anchor him.
“You plan on using that?”
“I’d only be doing the world a favor,” said Adam, examining the blade with a twisted admiration. Tyler wasn’t going to stand and wait for one of them to strike. The night was dark, and they were in the deserted area between the diner
and motel, a no-man’s land with no witnesses. It would be too easy for them to kill or injure him and Marcus and get off scot-free.
He took a deep breath, feeling his muscles tighten and heartbeat increase as he prepared himself for action. Then he struck. Tyler barreled forward and used his shoulder to plow Adam backwards until he fell on his ass. Glen was on him like white to rice, but he wasn’t as husky and Tyler easily knocked him flat. They didn’t give up easily, continually getting back up and throwing sloppy punches. He managed to kick the knife away when it hit the ground, but that didn’t mean they had no others on them.
“Tyler!” Marcus’s deep warning sent a chill up his spine at the same time he felt the cool metallic blade against his Adam’s apple. He thought Glen was down for the count from the last punch, but he’d come up behind him without a sound while he fought with Adam.
“You’re gonna kill me and risk going to prison for the rest of your lives?” He could barely speak without the sharp edge of the blade digging deeper against his throat.
“It’s a rodeo town. Men get drunk and stupid. Nobody will suspect us, especially after we take care of your little bitch.” Without worry for his own welfare, only concerned with ensuring Marcus remained untouched, he elbowed Glen in the gut. He could feel the slice of the blade along the side of his neck, the warm moisture seeping forth, but no pain.
“Run, Marcus!”
He was becoming dizzy and unsteady on his feet, shuffling his boots along the gravel. The advance of the two men on him was like a hallucination, happening but he was unable to focus or feel.
Then the shot rang out. It was near deafening in the hushed surroundings, snapping Tyler back to the present with a morbid fear.
Chapter Fourteen
Tyler woke up in a sterile white room with drawn mint-green curtains to the side of him. How did he get in a hospital, and why was his head pounding? He tried to sit up on the bed, but thought better and lay back down.
Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 10
