by Cameron Dane
Alex turned on a dime and closed the distance between them in a shot. “What did you say?” He spit that out faster and deadlier than a sniper’s bullet.
Heat, fire, life swirled all around Alex in an invisible arc, one that invaded Hunter’s space and tagged dormant circuits inside him he’d long thought dead. Sparks began igniting within, and the more Hunter stood this close to this man, the hotter he grew. His blood felt like it had turned to lava, and looking into Alex’s cool, green stare made Hunter think touching this person and kissing him would be the only way to soothe the burn within. At the same time, Hunter’s need to touch kicked up his heart rate in a terrible, familiar way, and he battled an overwhelming desire to get away before he did something stupid, ugly, and violent and gave his secrets away.
Jutting, aggressive lines changed Alex’s face to something full of unforgiving beauty. “Talk, damn it.” He grabbed Hunter’s arm just as Hunter made to move away. “You can’t just say shit like that and then go mute.”
The second Alex touched him, Hunter flashed on twisting the man’s arm behind his back and taking him to the ground in two quick moves. He even wrapped his hand around Alex’s wrist in reality and started to turn him. Abruptly he let go and jerked away, realizing what he’d almost done. This man is a civilian. Shit. Once again Hunter shoved his hand into his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the folded knife, again, again, and again. What did he say before you almost broke his arm? Focus. Breathe. Rubbing the knife in Hunter’s pocket didn’t ease a damn thing within him. Think.
Hunter forced himself to meet Alex’s scrutinizing stare. “I apologize for twisting your wrist like I did.”
Shaking his head, Alex said, “No need. I shouldn’t have grabbed you in the first place.”
“My sister obviously likes you,” Hunter said, reaching for normalcy and common ground. “If you were intending to do something destructive to Quinten, she would have figured you out by now.”
Alex whispered a litany of foul words through tight lips. Tunneling his fingers through his hair, he picked up disheveling it where the wind had left off. “I am not trying to take over this town or hurt its well-being or charm in any way.” Shards of green glass glinted cool chips within the blaze burning Alex’s stare. “I bought property. I’m allowed to do that, you know.” He practically snarled as if daring anyone within his range to contradict him and risk getting bitten. “I’m going to hire a bunch of local people and pay them to build some damn nice houses a number of the residents in this town can afford to buy. That’s it.” Alex finally exhaled, but it was clear a snapping animal still had hold of him. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Unable to look away, even though he couldn’t unleash his hidden grip on his knife for anything, Hunter whispered huskily, “I believe you.”
His stare narrowing, Alex suddenly appeared confused. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me” -- he patted himself down as if he couldn’t find something that was supposed to be on his person -- “I really do have to go.” He gave one more sharp nod, added, “Have a good night,” and strode away at a fast clip.
By the time Alex rounded the corner to the parking lot, Hunter had slipped into the narrow gap between the youth center and the building next door. Closing his eyes, Hunter leaned his shoulder into the brick, but Alex’s intense stare still lived front and center in Hunter’s mind. Alex’s obvious intelligence was so very clear. He even had some arrogance living in his eyes, yet there’d been a flash of bewilderment too, and that made Alexander Quick so very human. Hunter’s cock stirred along with the rapid beating in his chest. Sweat pooled at the small of his back, creating new fingers of panic when he realized he could not use his knife. Not here. He didn’t have anything on him to clean up the blood. And he couldn’t leave. It would crush Sarah. He’d already canceled on her too many times since coming home.
Pictures of Alex still haunted Hunter, though, making his balls and dick swell with the reminder that his body had been asleep for a long time and missed intimate contact with another man. The sexual interest dangled itself like a key in front of Hunter’s caged emotions, threatening to unlock the steel door and let loose every ugly thing hiding inside him. No.
Quickly, Hunter turned his body at an angle to best shield himself from passersby. Praying for privacy, he used one hand to force back the fingers and wrist on his other to an unnatural angle. Motherfucking shit. Hunter clenched his teeth as he applied steady pressure, more, more, more, until every pain receptor in his body screamed at the concentration of acute discomfort searing through his fingers and wrist. Hunter knew how far to push to make it hurt like hell without snapping anything, and soon the perspiration filming his back and neck had nothing to do with overwhelming sexual attraction and everything to do with overcoming the incredible physical pain he inflicted on his hand and arm. Within moments, all hints of arousal fled. Thank you. Hunter released his death grip on himself, instigating shooting pinpricks in his hand to let him know the blood had rushed back. Once more, everything started to return to normal. Okay. It’s okay now.
Hunter just needed a couple of minutes to breathe and he would be able to go back out to the sidewalk to wait for Sarah. It would be better now that Alex was gone.
Attraction was not good for Hunter.
Love could never exist in his life again.
WHAT THE HELL were you saying back there? Alex didn’t babble in front of anyone for any reason. He fucking stared down tycoons who could eat him for breakfast and shit him out by lunch, and he did it without showing so much as a bead of sweat to give away his fear. And he damn sure never let himself get flustered because of a man.
Except you just did.
Alex laughed as he climbed into his car, the sound properly mocking as it reached his ears. Other than basic physical attraction, Alex didn’t understand what had prompted his babbling once Sarah had left him alone with Hunter. Nervous rambling did not jive with what Alex knew about himself. He had experienced pure, unstoppable lust for other men a handful of times in his life -- just sheer undeniable physical attraction -- yet he’d never behaved with those men the way he just had with Sarah’s brother. It had to be something else.
It’s Mack. The thought popped into Alex’s brain unbidden but without surprising him. He’s what is different. The person Alex cared about more than anyone or anything else on this planet was dying and wouldn’t let Alex help him. During Alex’s visits with Mack in the last five weeks, Alex found himself constantly fighting memories bubbling to the surface in ways they hadn’t in years. Those memories, and the unearthed emotions attached to them, had begun to infect every aspect of Alex’s life. Shit, it was what had prompted Alex to buy a trailer and oversee this project in Quinten, and he knew it. When he’d originally decided to pursue this plot of land and develop homes on it -- a first for Quick Holdings -- Alex had planned to assign one of his people to head the project. He’d intended to fly back to Boston after signing the contracts. Only here he was, spending at least half of his time in Quinten, when this deal wasn’t anywhere in the stratosphere of the most lucrative or even the riskiest of his endeavors.
It’s Mack. But it’s Sarah too. Alex liked the young woman. He liked her a hell of a lot. Not sexually, of course, but she made him laugh and smile. She reminded him to eat something other than fast food and even invited him to her home for meals to make sure it happened. Her two men liked to glare at him and call him Quick, but they couched it between asking insightful questions about his business. Jace and Jasper even joked with him on occasion and included him in conversations that pertained to their lives. Sarah mostly, but all three of them, each in their own way, made Alex feel like he…like he…mattered to them. As a person. Not as an employer or business associate. The element of friendship with those three people, when combined with everything going on with Mack, had to be what spurred this immediate interest and sense of connection to Hunter, a virtual stranger. That has to be it.
Still, those dark brown eyes that never qui
te held his, as well as that odd temperament in the man, haunted Alex for the rest of the night. He woke up early the next morning to the sound of his alarm clock, his hand wrapped around his cock, shouting in the privacy of his new trailer as he shot hot ropes of cum all over his belly.
Thoughts and pictures of Hunter Tennison still filling every corner of his mind.
* * * *
Hunter drummed his hand against the steering wheel of his new-to-him used truck, a recent purchase he’d accepted he’d have to acquire once he’d started working for Hawkins Ranch. It hadn’t taken him long to remember he would need a vehicle that sat higher off the ground for the unpaved terrain of ranch land. Just yesterday he’d found something used that had good guts, already had dark tint on the windows, and that he could afford. Country music softly filled the single-cab vehicle. Twinkles of light lit against dew in the grass on either side of the road. As the sun began to rise, Hunter basked in it and let it fill him with contentment.
Work sometimes triggered the destructive tendencies living inside Hunter, but he’d found if he drove the long, roundabout route to Hawkins Ranch in the mornings, the extra time and seeing the sun emerge allowed a calm to settle inside him that often lasted the whole day. Hunter essentially circled the town on the state and county roads and entered the property from the back side rather than the straight road most folks used. The scenic route had the added bonus of giving him the whole road and drive nearly to himself.
Until he rounded a bend today and came upon something he’d never seen on this drive before.
Good Christ. That is a thing of rare beauty.
Hunter’s mouth went dry just looking. A good twenty-five feet ahead, almost in the grass, Alexander Quick jogged toward the horizon. The man ran in the same direction Hunter drove, so Hunter could only see his back, but Jesus, he did not have a shirt on, and his black running shorts didn’t do much more than cover his ass. Damp blond hair clung to Alex’s scalp, and the fine, fit line of his back and sleekly muscular legs reminded Hunter of his glancing assessment the first day they’d bumped into each other. A runner’s body. Literally, apparently.
Just as Hunter’s dick started to stir in appreciation of the view and spur the first twinge of nervousness in his chest, Alex’s leg crumpled under him and the man hit the cracked asphalt on his knees. Shit. Hunter immediately swerved onto the shoulder and screeched to a halt behind Alex, spinning marbles of old road under his tires.
Shoving his door open, Hunter tore out of his truck and rushed to Alex’s side. “Are you okay?” He stooped down next to Alex, who had shifted to sitting on his ass and now cursed and rubbed his left thigh. Hunter moved in to put his arm around Alex’s back but jerked back before making contact.
“Charley horse,” Alex replied through a clenched jaw. He worked his long, elegant fingers into his muscles, deep into the dense tissue, and Hunter couldn’t help noticing the baby-fine, pale hairs on the man’s legs. One glance up from Alex, though, and Hunter absorbed real pain shading the color of his eyes.
“It’s my own damn fault,” Alex added. “I didn’t run over the weekend, and then I woke up late so I didn’t warm up the way I know I should. Fuck.” He hissed and continued massaging his thigh from his knee to the seam of his shorts. “It’s seizing like a son of a bitch.”
Alex’s face paled in a way that made Hunter wince.
“Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” he asked.
Alex looked at him askance. “For a cramp?” One eyebrow rose along with his voice. “No.”
Stupid. “Sorry.” Humiliation burned Hunter’s skin. “I was just asking.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Alex shifted but immediately went back to sitting on his rear end. “You’re being nice, and I’m being a jerk asshole.”
“Aren’t you by definition a jerk already if you classify yourself as an asshole?” Hunter murmured, watching Alex warily.
Rearing, Alex dropped his mouth to gape. Then the most incredible, inviting sound filled their patch of grass on the side of the road. Alex chuckled. So fucking warm. And he smiled too.
Alex added, “Good point,” and openly laughed at himself again.
The ease in this man drew forth a rush of pleasure with a chaser of fear from Hunter, both of which warred for supremacy within him. Alex suddenly grimaced again, and years of training to assess and correct a situation kicked in for Hunter.
“Would you like some help up?” This time Hunter successfully completed the task of putting his arm around Alex’s waist. He didn’t allow the brush of hot, damp skin against his shirtsleeve to overwhelm him. “I can at least take you home. It’s probably not a good idea to finish your run.”
Only inches away, Alex’s eyes continued to twinkle with humor. “Good advice, and an offer of assistance I’d be smart to take.” With only one small grunt, Alex wrapped his arm around Hunter’s shoulders. Without too much jostling, they both got to their feet. “Thank you.”
Hunter braced Alex against his side, held him tight, and tried to take most of the man’s weight. Alex clearly favored his right leg but did take steps with his left foot without the leg collapsing under him. Awareness of every inch of Alex’s hard, nearly naked body tucked against his side awakened Hunter’s blood. Sweat clung to the man’s flesh, and every time Hunter inhaled the pungent, musky scent, he wanted to lean in closer to lick Alex’s moist skin and take a taste.
As they progressed to the truck, Hunter’s heart picked up its pace, but the panicky tingling that usually followed stayed mostly at bay. He envisioned the knife in his pocket to help keep him calm; just picturing it regulated his breathing enough not to have to touch it in order to feel better.
See? It’s okay. Barring the trip into public to purchase his truck, Hunter had spent almost all his weekend researching the physical harm he inflicted on himself. He’d learned with determination he could self-correct his behavior. He just had to be mentally stronger than his desires to injure himself. He had to beat the dark, ugly urges inside him. Maybe simply gaining knowledge of that truth helped a lot in becoming successful in implementing it too. You’re holding Alex. You’re attracted to him. You’re nervous but you’re all right.
They reached the truck, where Alex transferred his weight to the side of the vehicle while Hunter opened the passenger side door. Using his good leg, Alex hoisted himself into the cab with only a hand braced on Hunter’s shoulder for support. Once Hunter knew the man was all the way inside, he shut the door, rounded the front of the truck to the driver’s side, and climbed in too.
After getting the engine going, Hunter glanced at Alex. “Which way am I going to take you to your trailer?”
Exhaling audibly, Alex rested his head into the seating and then rolled it to look at Hunter. “Make a U-turn and head back toward the entrance to Sandavow’s land. I’ve left the roadside signage up for the old properties for the moment.” He went back to working his thigh muscles; his lips thinned as he did it. “It makes it easier to explain to people where I am and where we’re starting to build the first houses.”
While backing his truck onto the street to get them going in the right direction, Hunter kept one eye on the deserted road and one on his passenger. “You’re not building all the houses at the same time?” he wondered, curious in spite of his desire to keep to himself. But damn, Hunter overheard people talking about this man and his plans almost everywhere he went. Many demonized him while a much smaller but vocal minority wanted to clip angel wings on his back. Hunter admitted to himself the polarizing nature of the guy, along with his own physical attraction, made Alex Quick a fascinating figure. With a fast glance at the man owning his thoughts, Hunter added, “The word mansions has been thrown around more than once, but I hear people betting it’ll end up being as many tract homes as you can cram on the property too.”
Alex’s mouth tightened again. This time Hunter didn’t think it had anything to do with his charley horse. “I’m sure you’ve heard a lot,” he began, his tone r
emarkably even, “but no, we’re not building everything at once, nor will they be mansions. Starting a massive building project wouldn’t be any more practical than designing a house with ten rooms and as many bathrooms. What we can do is build two beautiful, interesting, reasonable-sized homes and refurbish the Compton’s old farmhouse this year before the weather turns and puts a halt to much of the construction until next spring.”
“Oh,” Hunter murmured. Damn. That didn’t much fit with the rampant talk in town.
Right then Alex pressed his fingers into his thigh. His breath caught, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you mind if I stretch out my leg across the seat?” His pinched mouth made the request as much as his words did. “It feels a hell of a lot better when I keep it straight.”
“Go ahead,” Hunter agreed. “The fabric is not in great shape. You’re not going to make it any worse.”
“Thank you.” Adjusting sideways to put his spine against the door, Alex lifted his leg and settled it across the seat. The press of the man’s running shoe into Hunter’s hip immediately drew Hunter’s attention down to golden skin and more pale hairs. Hunter swallowed thickly, but he couldn’t help following that line of muscle and bone over a sculpted calf and scraped knee to a sleek but solid thigh and then -- Oh shit.
Hunter immediately averted his gaze. He stared straight ahead down an empty road with as much focus as if he were circling a racetrack at a hundred miles an hour with thirty-five other cars. But he’d seen it. Oh hell, it had only been a split second, but Hunter could catalogue everything as if he’d feasted his eyes for hours. A smooth red sac with the roundest, most defined balls Hunter had ever witnessed, and the base of a shaft nestled into the palest white fur. Jesus, the only thing I didn’t see was the shape of the head -- sleeved or snipped -- and the width of his slit. Thinking about the rest of Alex’s cock brought forth a picture of Hunter kneeling down, discovering the full shape of it up close, and parting his lips to take the hot, hard length into his mouth for a good suck.
