Colorado Wild - Colorado Heart 1

by Sara York

Shock ripped through him and he gasped, his lips separating and then Billy mistook his opened mouth for an invitation. Rough stubble grazed over his chin, he felt whiskers edging the lips he kissed, the sensation foreign. Then Billy was holding him, his hands on Tucker's back, his body pressed against Tucker's. Feelings swirled inside that he'd never experienced before when kissing a girl. His dick stiffened and he felt Billy's graze against his hip. He moaned and Billy deepened the kiss. With his good hand he clutched at Billy's shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. The desire to run his hands over Billy's chest hit hard and he slipped his fingers under the material, grazing soft skin covering hard muscles.

  Billy pressed in harder and pain shot through his arm. He pulled back, almost dropping to his knees in agony. They separated and Tucker stepped back, his good hand at his lips, grazing over the swollen surface. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither saying a thing.

  Tucker shook his head, horror winding through him. He'd kissed his best friend and wanted to do more. Errant thoughts had entered his mind, swirling through him a few months back, but he'd pushed them away, forcing them to die. Then he'd woken up to a dream he'd had about Billy, his come filling his underwear. That had disturbed him, but he wasn't gay.

  He turned to leave, overwhelmed by the realization that though he wasn't gay, he wanted to be with Billy.

  "Tucker, wait." Billy called after him but he ran out. Locked himself away in his room. He ignored Billy's pleas to open the door. Fear of what he'd become left him unsure of everything. He wasn't gay. No matter how many times he said the words, he couldn’t help but run his fingers over his lips, wishing Billy were here in bed with him. Sleep didn't come easily as desire for Billy built. He had no idea how he would face his best friend in the morning.

  Chapter Five

  Roger had caught a look from Grant earlier and he had no idea what the hell it meant. That first night, they'd shared a moment, but nothing had happened since. He'd moved to his new room down the left wing in the main house, right next to Grant's room. The night before, he'd been standing in his bathroom when he heard Grant in the shower. At first he thought something was wrong, then he realized that Grant was whacking off, his moans rising quickly before dying off suddenly.

  His dick had filled out and he quietly took care of his hard-on, dumping his load in the toilet. Now Grant was back in the shower and Roger was harder than ever. It would be wrong to go to Grant's room. He placed both hands on the vanity, staring at his reflection. He needed to get over this attraction he had for Grant. There was nothing there. He missed Hayden too much to get into another relationship and the guys on Wild Bluff didn't fuck around with each other.

  He scrubbed his teeth with his toothbrush and pissed quickly before shutting off the light and heading to bed. In the darkness, the sadness was always worse. When he and Hayden were together, even before the repeal of DADT, they would snuggle close, holding each other. Even on missions, they'd find ways to always touch when they slept. Waking alone left him disoriented. Most mornings, he spent at least fifteen seconds searching for Hayden. There wasn't room in his life for anyone else.

  After twenty minutes of lying in bed, he realized he was waiting for Grant to finish his shower. Roger rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head, blocking out all sound. He woke in the morning, grumpy and out of sorts. The bed wasn't uncomfortable, but he was. This weekend, he'd ask one of the other guys, possibly Zander, for a good place to go blow off steam. He liked their cover. He could dress like a cowboy, look like everyone else and never have a single person question his job.

  His morning shower was quick and cold, taking away any leftover desire. He had just pulled on his jeans when a knock sounded at his door. Part of him wished it were Grant coming by to talk. He may not want a relationship with the man, but he would like to spend time with Grant, getting to know him better.

  "Come in," he called out as he zipped his jeans and buttoned them.

  The door pushed open, revealing Marshal, the one guy he'd spent the least amount of time with.

  "Hey, Duff called a meeting. Ten minutes. We'll gather in the den."

  "Okay, is this ranch business or the other stuff?"

  Marshal winked, his lips separated on one side as he clicked his tongue. "Come to the party and find out."

  The door shut and Roger rolled his eyes. Though he didn't know the man at all, he had a feeling he'd end up liking him. All of the guys seemed to get along fairly well. The thing with Billy was intense, but he understood. Having a friend shot was disturbing. It put things into perspective, leaving you raw, allowing every emotion to rise to the surface. After losing Hayden, he'd been a loose cannon. The rage and anger still swirled at times, but he had better control now. At least he thought he did. Heck, he was probably just full of shit and fooling himself. Losing Hayden had changed everything.

  Roger grabbed his shirt and left his room, stopping briefly in the hall to pull it on. Grant's door swung open when his hands were over his head, his shirt suspended over his face, blocking his view. Though he couldn’t see anything, he turned his head toward Grant. After the material slid over his face and down his chest, he was rewarded with a lusty look from Grant. His body warmed a few degrees and try as he might, he couldn't stop the pleasure from bubbling up. Hot damn, he liked getting the look Grant shot his way. It twisted his insides, leaving him hungry for more, but getting more from one of his team members would only make all their lives complicated.

  He'd hunt down Zander later, to ask him about the local guys and whom he could blow off some steam with. It might be better to head into Colorado Springs. The more anonymous the sex, the better. He didn't want or need anyone mooning over him.

  Over the last three days he'd been given a tour of the house, the barns, and part of the land. They'd shown him around the place, giving him a few instructions on how they conducted business. The barns were big but the ranch house was huge. The house matched the size of the ranch, sprawling over a huge area with multiple sleeping wings. The living areas where monstrous. He'd found it almost comical that the kitchen table sat twelve comfortably. The bar overlooking the sink added an additional eight seats. There were two ovens and stovetops, two refrigerators, one used almost exclusively for beverages, and enough cabinets to hold three full place settings of twelve. The kitchen opened into the den where they were having their meeting. Marshal and Zander sat at the bar, their stools turned toward the den. James and Mike slouched on one couch, their feet up on a roughhewn coffee table that almost looked as big as a bed. Billy sat hunched in a lounge chair, his gaze on his hands and Tucker sat opposite him, stealing glances at Billy every few seconds. The big couch was open, giving him plenty of room to sit without having to touch Grant. They both moved to the same seat on the couch, Grant grabbing his arm when they bumped into each other.

  "Sorry," Grant grumbled and moved to the other end of the couch. They would need to clear the air soon. Maybe he could just let it die. He probably was overthinking the issue. One random look didn't mean that Grant wanted him. They were both adults and though they had needs, they could keep their desires under control.

  "We have a new mission." Duff placed a stack of blue folders on the coffee table.

  The guys sat up, any pretense of relaxation gone. Grant had his elbows on his knees and Marshal and Zander moved from the bar to the couches, Marshal settling between he and Grant, Zander taking the spot between Mike and James.

  Duff grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on, changing the input to his computer. The screen flashed once then an older gentleman showed up on the screen. Marshal groaned and a few of the guys let out a slow breath. James sat back and shook his head.

  "Yes, it's him again. Roger, this is Grayson McKay. He lives in London with a home near Grantham. It's actually a castle, but he doesn't want the underprivileged to feel bad so he won't call it a castle."

  "We said no two years ago," Grant supplied.

  "Why are we taking another look at this dude?"
Marshal asked.

  Duff picked up the folders and passed them to Grant. "Take one and follow along."

  The folders were thick and filled with papers. Roger opened to the first page, reading through the specs on Grayson McKay. He seemed like a normal rich English dude. He had a wife, two kids at some private school, and a few polo ponies. They drove expensive cars, ate expensive meals, and dressed in designer clothes.

  "If you flip to page ten, you'll see that Mr. McKay has begun spending his fortune in a different manner. Before, we had nothing linking him to any illegal activity. Now, we have his money tied directly to a terrorist cell that makes the IRA look like child's play. They aren't just aiming for England and the wealth of Britannia, they want to make life hell in the USA. They've called themselves Saoirse, the Gaelic word for freedom. However, they aren't really for freedom. They want people to believe they stand for one thing, but really, their goals aren't what they say they are."

  Roger stared at the readout, taking in as much information as possible. He flipped to the last page of the packet. Over a hundred pages of information were included on Grayson McKay and Saoirse.

  "On page thirty-five, you'll find messages that were sent back and forth from Grayson to Ronan Byrnes, the leader of Saoirse. Both Ronan and McKay agree that they want to create chaos to interrupt the flow of money. They will be placing trades in the stock exchanges that will benefit them when certain retailers are hit by terrorist activity. If that wasn't bad enough, McKay is also funding another group of terrorists in the US. The money trail can be found starting on page fifty-seven. Like in England, the US terror groups will be used to fund McKay's habits, not because he believes in any one cause. He's not for anything in particular, he's a jerk, using the emotions of others to make money from their pain."

  Zander groaned, "This is a lot of information. What did he do to get him pegged this time?"

  "Good question." Duff pulled up another photo on his computer. "The man, might I add that he believes he is anonymous in sending me the information, is seen here having lunch with Mr. McKay six months ago."

  "Son of a bitch," James grumbled. He stood and went to the kitchen. "Anybody need a drink?"

  Three guys requested water. Roger stood and went to the kitchen, feeling the eyes of the other guys on him. He grabbed a bottle of water to occupy himself and center his thoughts. "If we kill this guy, what will keep Saoirse from continuing to build?" Roger wondered for a moment if he'd asked a stupid question. Everyone stared at him and suddenly he didn't feel like he knew what he was doing.

  "Great question," Marshal said. "That's the rub, we don't."

  "Actually, we have a plan in place to shut Ronan down once McKay is out of the picture." Duff stepped away from the television and over to Grant. They exchanged a few quiet words before Grant stood.

  "We've been given twenty-four hours to make our decision. Usually, we have more time, Roger, but the guy seen here, Andrew Blake, seems to be in a hurry. We're not sure why, but I think it's because he fears what will happen if McKay acts."

  "This all seems very complicated." Roger took his seat, looking through the documents, flipping from one page to another.

  "Not all of our missions are dealt with in this manner," Duff said.

  Zander stood up, taking his folder with him. "Some cases are so cut and dry, it's a no brainer." He opened the pantry and pulled out a bag of peanut M&M. Zander poured them into a red bowl and placed them in the center of the coffee table.

  "It's going to be a long day." Tucker reached for the bowl but cringed.

  "Is your arm still bothering you?" Zander asked.

  "Of course, I was shot, you bonehead."

  Billy blanched before standing and heading into the kitchen. Tucker kept his gaze on him the entire way. Those two were aching for each other but it seemed that they were having a few issues. Billy came back with a Coke and a smaller bowl. He put a handful of M&Ms in the bowl and set it on the side table by Tucker, depositing the Coke next to it.

  "Thanks." Tucker reached out to touch Billy but he moved away, not once looking at Tucker. None of the other guys in the room seemed to see the distress between the pair.

  Billy took his seat opposite Tucker. He needed to focus on the mission but all he could think about was kissing Tucker and how horrified the guy had looked after the kiss. He should have kept his hands and lips to himself. He'd fucked up and now he needed to make it right.

  "We're going to break until one. Everyone, get your ranch chores done first then we'll have a light lunch while we discuss the mission. Because of the complicated nature, we'll spend all afternoon going over the information and researching on our own before we make any decisions. Roger, if you have any questions, you can go to Grant. He seems to be the perfect mentor for you."

  The guys stood and Billy jumped up quickly, needing to get away from Tucker before he had a chance to corner him. Later, he'd have to face the music, but right now he couldn’t stomach Tucker telling him he felt nothing.

  He dropped his folder in his room then ran out the back door, racing to the barn. With all of them at the ranch and only Billy out of commission, his chores were small. Feeding the horses and spreading two bails of hay took him less than thirty minutes. Crystal blue skies overhead looked more like a painting than real life. Having grown up in Los Angeles, where blue skies were rare, he marveled at the beauty. Being cooped up inside this morning would only leave him aching more than he currently was. Reading over the file outside seemed like the perfect plan.

  Without thinking, Billy rushed back into his room and flung open the door, surprised to find Tucker sitting in the center of his bed, the pillows propped up behind him. His mouth went dry and his stomach turned.

  Tucker looked at him over the dark rims of his glasses, his lips turned down in a frown. "Sorry, but this is the only way I figured I'd see you."

  "I can't—just let me get my—"

  "Shut the door, Billy, and talk to me. Five minutes, that's all I'm asking for."

  Billy let the door close behind him, wishing that he were anywhere but here. Hearing Tucker say he didn't want him would hurt. Already his heart squeezed so hard he thought he would die.

  "Come here." Tucker moved to the edge of the bed but stayed seated.

  Billy shuffled slowly to the bed but didn't get within touching distance. He feared that his desire would show if he were standing in front of Tucker. The man had no idea what dirty thoughts Billy had about him and his mouth. He pushed the erotic images from his mind, trying to concentrate on what Tucker had to say, not what he wanted him to say.

  "No, come here." Tucker held out his hand, beckoning Billy to come closer.

  He knew better than to move, but he couldn’t help himself. When Tucker could touch him, he pulled Billy right in front of him, his hand on Billy's waist, his eyes level with the waistband of Billy's jeans. Tucker slowly slid his gaze up Billy's torso, torturing Billy as he angled his head up. Finally, Tucker's blue-green eyes stared up at him, long lashes resting on his cheeks when he blinked.

  Billy's cock grew hard and his body shook. He couldn’t do this. The desire to push Tucker onto the bed raged so hard he was seeing red. Billy stiffened and started to move but Tucker's fingers squeezed on his waist and he leaned forward, his face only a few inches from Billy's body. Pain filled Billy. He wanted Tucker so bad, had for over a year now. Everything had been fine before Tucker had been injured. Before the last mission, Billy could deal with them not being lovers yet because he had time to pursue Tucker, but when he thought Tucker wouldn’t make it back, he'd panicked.

  "Don't go." Tucker licked his lips then leaned in. He widened his legs and Billy stepped between them, positioning himself so Tucker's thighs pressed against the outside of Billy's.

  Sparks raced through Billy's body like he'd been electrocuted. He let his head drop between his shoulders and his eyes rolled up in the back of his head. Then Tucker's forehead was on his stomach, pressing into his belly and he thought he w
ould drop to the floor. Only by a miracle was he sill standing.

  He looked down, staring at the back of Tucker's head, wanting to run his fingers through the wavy locks. Before he knew what he was doing, one hand was resting on Tucker's head, smoothing over his silky hair. Every erotic dream he'd had about Tucker never came close to how he felt right now.

  "I'm not gay," Tucker whispered, "but last night when you kissed me, I wanted you."

  Tucker didn't say anything else and Billy didn't know what to do. The man had just said he wasn't gay then admitted wanting him. He needed to see Tucker's eyes while they spoke so he dropped to his knees, his gaze searching out Tucker's.

  In all his years, sex had only satisfied an urge, but staring up into Tucker's bright eyes rocked him so deeply he feared what sex would be like between them. Just the feel of Tucker's legs against his sides had him twisted in knots so tight that he didn't know if he'd ever escape.

  "Billy, I need to go slow."

  He placed his hands on Tucker's legs, fingers curling around the muscles. "What does that mean?"

  Tucker lifted his good hand and placed his forefinger on Billy's lips, tracing the lower lip over and over again. "It means I want to kiss you again, but not right now."

  "Why not now?"

  "If I kissed you right now we'd end up having sex."

  Billy shivered and Tucker laughed. He felt the wetness from his pre-come spread. Already his body had ideas of how hard and fast then slow and sweetly he wanted to make love to Tucker. "Fuck, Tucker, you say that then expect me not to kiss you?"

  "Please, I'm not—I'm scared. I've never thought I was gay before. I love hanging out with you, you're my best friend and honestly, all the boners I got when we were together, I attributed it to the mission or the excitement of being in an intense situation. I never once—okay, that's a lie. I've had dreams about you."

  Billy sat up straighter, his breath going shallow. "You've dreamt about me?"