Nick looked at Cedric, glanced at Caleb, and then looked back at his dog. He gave a single nod as if he’d reached a decision.
Still his words came to Caleb as a surprise. “I’m going to ask another big favor, Caleb. Although I know you’ve gone way above and beyond already, it’s going to be hard on Cedric if he goes with me. I won’t have much time for him, running around Vail with Jack. Could I leave him here and pick him up on my way home, say in about three days?”
Nick looked squarely at Caleb as he spoke. Something too powerful and intense for words passed between them.
If the dog stays here, Nick’ll have to come back, maybe even stay a little while. Maybe we’ll have a chance to explore the possibilities, see just what there is between us. Caleb felt sure Nick was thinking along parallel lines. It was written on his face, burning from his eyes.
Caleb shrugged one shoulder, as if it didn’t matter a bit. “Sure, why not? The little guy isn’t much trouble. Don’t you think he’ll be upset, getting left behind? You know I’m going to feed him the same thing Cheyenne gets, too, none of that wimpy vegetarian stuff or whatever it is you brought along.”
Nick grinned. “He’ll miss me like a toothache. Hell, he’s in love. Feed him whatever you want to. Maybe he needs to toughen up a bit.” He walked over, stooped, and scratched the small dog’s ears. Then he reached to scratch Cheyenne’s, too. She gave him a steady look with those spooky eyes of hers, then heaved a gusty sigh and lowered her head back between her front paws.
Finally Nick rose. He picked up his bag and started for the door. Caleb was in the way. When he held out a hand, Nick took it. For a long moment their hands clasped tightly, palm pressed to palm, in a touch that said far more than a simple handshake.
“I’ve got your phone number in my cell phone. I’ll call tonight and check on Cedric. And I’ll be back no later than Thursday. If anything comes up, I’ll be in touch. I’d offer to pay you for your time and effort, but I know you’d just be offended.”
Caleb grinned. “Damn right I’d be offended. Hell, if our dogs are in love that makes us some kind of kinfolk, doesn’t it?”
Nick shrugged. “Damned if I know. Kissing cousins doesn’t sound too far off.” He reached up and pulled Caleb’s head down. Their lips met in a kiss that began as tentative, but soon became heated, searching, and intense. Caleb’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might jump right out of his chest. Just a kiss, he kept trying to tell himself, yet it sure felt like a prelude to something a lot more intense. Those three days could not pass quickly enough.
Nick drew away first. “I will be back,” he said. “You can count on that. Call it a promise, a threat, or a dare.” With a grin and a wink, he turned to the door and walked out without looking back again. When Cedric gave small whine, Caleb almost wanted to do the same thing.
Chapter 5
The next three days felt like the longest of Caleb’s life. When the three days stretched into four and finally five, the only thing that kept him halfway sane was trying to keep up with the antics of Nick’s crazy dog. That pup was a pistol. From what Nick had said, the dog was five or six years old, but Caleb’s youngest herd dog pups weren’t half as wild and goofy.
Huh, they say Aussies and Heelers are high energy. Maybe this little guy needs to work, too. What can a four-footed dust mop do? Guess I could send him under the bed to round up the dust bunnies.
By now Cedric had convinced Caleb he would not stray very far from Cheyenne, who normally stuck close to Caleb’s heels, so he let the little dog tag along when he went out to do chores. The snow was gone today and the mud was drying up fast as warm, spring Chinook winds swept down the prairie. Still Cedric managed to get mud-caked from stem to stern, to which he added a good roll in a fresh cow pie. With a proud doggy grin, he scampered up to Caleb to show off his new look.
Caleb gave his head a rueful shake. “Looks like I’m going to have to give you a bath, mutt. Your human would have a conniption fit if he saw you looking like this.” More greenish-brown than white, the little dog danced around Caleb’s feet, barking with shrill exuberance.
Cheyenne gave him a nudge, heading him toward the house. She knew the word “bath” and it was not one of her favorites. Usually her baths came with a hose and maybe a bottle of dishwashing soap when she picked up a little too much eau de barnyard to be allowed in the house, or once in a while, parfum de road kill. She knew the boss was tolerant of dogginess. She also knew even he had to draw a line somewhere.
Springtime in Colorado was not exactly tropical. Caleb decided Cedric would get too chilled if he was bathed outside. Wrinkling his nose, he scooped up the small dog and carried him into the house, directly to the laundry tub on the enclosed part of the back porch. He’d just got the water adjusted to a comfortably warm temperature when the phone rang.
Now he had a dilemma. Should he let it ring, even though it might be Nick, saying he was finally on his way? Or should he pray Cedric couldn’t jump out of the tub while he ran into the kitchen to take the call? Now he cursed the fact he’d never bothered to get an answering machine. Though he hated to talk to them, at times they could serve a real purpose. Like now.
He opted to leave the dog, keeping his fingers crossed. By the time he picked up the phone it had stopped ringing. He swore, turning back to the porch door just in time to see Cedric come flying through it, splattering muddy water and bits of cow shit every which way in his wake.
“Son of a mother loving bastard!”
Hearing him yell, Cheyenne peeked around the corner, looking anxious and troubled.
“Chey, fetch that miserable little turd!”
For a moment the old Heeler looked confused. Then she seemed to get the message. She scooted down the hall after Cedric. Caleb heard a scuffling sound and then she returned, the wiggling, wet little dog clasped gently in her mouth. Although she wore a distressed expression, she was too well trained to disobey a direct order.
She gave Cedric a small shake and deposited him at Caleb’s feet. Shaking her own head, she spat out a glob of wet, muddy fur before she headed for her water dish.
“Yeah, reckon you could use some Scope about now, or Listerine. Sorry, old girl.”
Caleb picked up Cedric again and returned to the porch, dunking him in the now half-full tub with a less-than-gentle hand.
He took an old scrub brush, rubbed it across a bar of strong-scented, old-fashioned soap, and scoured the little dog from ears to tail. A final rinse and Cedric was white again, albeit a very wet white. Caleb found an old towel, which he wrapped around the now shivering little bundle. Carrying Cedric into the kitchen, he deposited the Maltese behind the stove, still well wrapped in the towel.
Chey looked up at him as if to say, “Was all of that necessary?” Then, with a sigh, she lay down on the unoccupied part of her bed. She nudged and tugged until the towel was loosened and then proceeded to lick Cedric all over, smoothing his rumpled fur and slurping off the worst of the excess water.
Caleb looked around the disaster area that was his kitchen. With a sigh as deep as Chey’s, he went to get a mop and a bucket. “Maltese Terror,” he muttered. “Terrorist is more like it.”
He hadn’t quite finished the cleanup when a sound drew his attention to the back door. Nick stood there, now dressed in stiff new Levis and a plaid western-cut shirt instead of his city-style chinos and golf shirt. Scanning the scene, he raised his eyebrows.
“What the hell is going on? I got worried when you didn’t answer the phone. Then I figured you were out doing chores and decided I could find my way back here without help.”
Caleb gave the floor a final swipe and jabbed the mop in the bucket. “We had a small problem.” He proceeded to relate the whole fiasco. Before he was done, he was whooping with laughter, as was Nick. They ended up hanging onto each other for balance as they staggered in circles, pounding each other on the back, and laughing until they were almost sick.
“Oh, my God, wish I’d been here,” Ni
ck gasped out between guffaws. “I can just picture the whole thing. I know the groomer always shudders when I bring Cedric in. Now I think I understand why.”
The sudden realization they were wrapped in each other’s arms finally put an end to their mirth. Caleb looked down at Nick, eagerly absorbing the contours of the younger man’s face, familiarizing himself with every line and curve, every subtle difference in color and texture of the suddenly cherished visage.
“You’re back. I was beginning to think you’d changed your plans.”
Nick shook his head. “No. I was getting impatient, too. I think Jack finally noticed my attention span had grown shorter and shorter. He called off our final golf date, telling me to go home and get to work on his plans. Then he changed his mind and suggested maybe I should consider setting up shop in Denver for a while so I’d be closer to the site as we start laying out the design. I jumped at that idea. It took an extra day to get everything set up. It’ll be worth it, though. Meanwhile, I’m finally here.”
Caleb loosened his hold and stepped back. He glanced down at the sopping, splattered mess of his own clothes and saw more than a little had rubbed off on Nick. “I need a shower,” he said. “Looks like we messed up your nice new outfit, too. Wanna join me?”
Nick grinned. “You know, that sounds like an outstanding idea. Let me get a bag out of the car and I’ll be right there.”
* * * *
Nick took his time, walking out to the SUV and dragging his ditty bag out from under the disordered jumble of his gear. He’d packed quickly and carelessly when he left Denver earlier in the day. He’d told himself he was eager to see Cedric, but he knew that was a rank prevarication. His urgency had a lot more to do with a big, dark rancher than one small, white dog, although he had missed his pet.
What in the hell am I doing? I haven’t showered with another male since college PE classes. I think there’s going to be more going on than just getting clean. Do I want to do this? While his mind might have doubts, his body had already decided and his heart was running hard after it.
Yes, whatever happened would be all right, had been preordained from the minute he’d seen the tall, bulky shape loom out of the blizzard—his personal Good Samaritan, a very sexy Good Samaritan.
Still, he paused in the kitchen to check on Cedric. His furry friend huddled in front of Cheyenne, hunkering down as she licked him dry. His drying white fur stuck up in spiky points all over his compact body. Nick stooped to scratch Cedric’s ears.
“Caleb thinks you’re a terrorist, buddy. You weren’t a real good dog for him, were you? Well, it’s not totally your fault. You’ve never had much chance to be a real dog. Maybe now you can.” Nick’s knees cracked when he stood up, an unwelcome reminder the years were continuing to slip past, faster than he would have chosen for them to. Maybe it was time he settled into a permanent relationship, even if it was not the one he had dimly visualized in the past.
When Nick reached the bathroom, Caleb was already in the shower, steam from the water fogging the glass so he was just a vague, flesh-colored shape. The rest of the house might be far behind the current trends, but this bathroom was modern and clearly set up for comfort. Caleb seemed to know what mattered. Those things he took care of, promptly and effectively. Nick nodded. He liked that.
Nick quickly shed his begrimed clothes and reached for the shower stall door. While he probably didn’t really need a second shower today just because there were some muddy smudges on his new jeans and shirt, the hot water and the hard body standing in that steamy stream tempted him beyond resistance. He pulled the door ajar and stepped in.
As Nick entered, Caleb turned to step aside, allowing Nick to get under the spray. Standing at the far end of the big glass stall, Caleb raised both hands to sweep his dripping hair back from his face. Although Nick had never cared for long hair on men, on Caleb it looked utterly right. At this moment, he looked every inch primitive, an archetypical native warrior, his lean body sleek with moisture, nude as nature meant him to be. His cock hung heavy between muscled thighs. As if Caleb’s dick felt Nick’s gaze, it twitched, lifting subtly.
Under the intensity of Caleb’s dark stare, Nick felt his own cock stir. His might not rival the length and girth of Caleb’s shaft, but he’d never felt himself inferior in terms of male equipment. He worked to stay fit and knew he had a nice physique as well as an even tan, with only a pale band around his lower body where his brief swim trunks fit. If Caleb enjoyed the view, so much the better. Nick was certainly enjoying his view.
Right now, Nick thought Caleb looked like the most magnificent example of humanity he’d ever seen. His knowledge that the rancher was far more than a ruggedly handsome face and a work-toned body made him even more alluring. Here was a real man, a real old-west hero of a man, someone who could command loyalty and love simply because of who and what he was. Here was the man Nick had sought for years without ever realizing he searched.
An overwhelming wave of desire surged through him. Hard on its heels came a welter of other sensations and emotions. Together they spelled certainty, a profound conviction that this man was the one person he’d waited half a lifetime for, the only soul in the whole universe who could fill the empty, needy part of himself he’d carefully concealed all his adult life. At that moment, he had only one thought—to give expression to the sudden, powerful attraction and admiration he felt in the only way he could immediately accomplish.
Moved by the intensity of his discovery Nick sank to his knees in front of Caleb. He reached to take the other man’s heavy cock into his hand, his touch gentle, almost reverent. He held the solid, hot weight of it, taking in the textures of the skin, the latent power, and the deep pulsing of Caleb’s life blood surging through the veins with each heartbeat. Slowly he drew his clasped hand the full length, from balls to just behind the head and then back.
He heard Caleb suck in a sharp breath before he shifted to spread his feet farther apart, as if bracing himself to withstand powerful forces. Nick stroked again, minutely harder this time.
Caleb gave a muffled groan. “God, Nick, do you know what you’re doing to me?”
“No, not really. I’ve never done this before. Oh, a little horseplay years ago when I camped out with friends, but it wasn’t like this. I’m playing by ear, by instinct here.”
Nick looked up, trying to see if there was censure or disgust in Caleb’s face. He could discern neither.
“Don’t stop. Whether you know where we’re going or not, I guarantee it’s going to be worth the trip.”
At that encouragement, Nick bent forward and took the head of Caleb’s cock into his mouth. He tasted salt, with a hint of alkaline, flavored by the raw energy and vitality of the man. He swirled his tongue around, tracing the groove behind the head and feeling the nerve endings there snap to attention at his touch. Nick placed one hand on Caleb’s solid thigh. In the muscle he felt the fine tremors that ran through Caleb’s body. Nick balanced the rancher’s cock with the other hand, while he widened his jaws to take as much of the length as he could. As if from a distance, he felt the hot water continue to beat down on his back and cascade over his head.
After a moment, he drew back, letting Caleb slip free from his lips. “When I was a kid, ‘cocksucker’ was always the worst insult we could hurl at one another. Right now, I can’t imagine why. It feels like an honor, a privilege.”
Caleb’s deep voice held rough edges of emotion. “It’s a very intimate gift, one I’d like to give to you, too.” He reached past Nick’s shoulder to turn off the water. “That’ll be getting cold in a few more minutes. Let’s towel off and go into the bedroom.”
The bath towels Caleb grabbed were huge, thick, and heavy, just rough enough to feel invigorating when stroked over the skin. They dried each other, taking that time to explore angles and textures, hollows and hardness. They were alike in masculinity and yet very different in many ways.
Caleb’s body was nearly hairless, a legacy of his Native Ame
rican heritage, while Nick had a great deal of sandy russet hair all over arms, legs, chest, with a thick mat at the groin. Nick was neatly compact, where Caleb was lean and lanky, long muscles taut over strong bones. Caleb had a horseman’s hard, tight ass, while Nick’s butt held a trifle more roundness, muscles defined, just not as compressed. Alike yet unalike, theirs was a fascinating dichotomy, and each explored the other with relish.
Tossing his towel over the edge of the shower stall, Caleb again settled his hands on Nick’s shoulders. For several heartbeats they gazed at each other without speaking.
When he spoke, Caleb’s voice sounded rusty and hoarse. “We can still stop and forget this if you have any doubts, Nick. I want you in the worst way, but not at the expense of pushing you into anything you don’t feel good about.”
Nick shook his head. “I never expected anything like this to happen. I’m past the regret and doubt stage, though. I want the same things I think you do, to come together, to give and take and share in every possible way. It seems to me like fate led me here for that very reason.”
He took the half step that brought him flush against the taller man’s body. Skin sensitized by the brisk texture of the towel, yet still slightly damp, met that of another, also damp and sensitized. Reaching up, Nick tangled his fingers in the dark silk of Caleb’s loosened hair. He tugged to bring the other man’s face down to his, and before fitting his mouth against Caleb’s, he licked off a few remaining drops of water, then slid his tongue between Caleb’s lips.
At that moment, Nick sensed the bigger man’s restraint. He appreciated the fact Caleb held back to let Nick move at his own pace, allowed him to explore and discover, while desire built and passions heated. For Nick, this was a journey to a new frontier, one in which he discovered himself while he explored his soon-to-be lover. Erotic magic emerged with every move, lurked in wait within each tentative caress, sparkled forth from touch, taste, and twitch.
Abruptly, Nick tired of this game. He reached to take Caleb’s cock in his hand again. “Why don’t we get comfortable on that big bed?”
The Maltese Terror Page 4
