Three Men and a Bounty

by Three Men

  Chris’ eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  He looked so unsure of himself all of a sudden, as if he expected James wanted to throw him out rather than cuddle.

  Is that what usually happened to him? James wouldn’t be surprised. Young kid like him, so open and honest. He was just the perfect candidate for being taken advantage of and hurt by the wrong people.

  Besides the one or ones responsible for putting the bruises on him, how many wrong people had Chris come across in his short years, and had they totally ruined him for a relationship with anyone, much less him and Troy? Odd, how he instinctively thought of the three of them together, as if they were all meant to be, as if they had all discussed what lived between them and already agreed on what to do about it.

  James wondered if the situation would be more workable if Chris and Troy were female. Would it be any more acceptable for him to have designs on a relationship with two women instead of the two men he found himself so attracted to?

  He knew the answer intrinsically. What he was thinking about nurturing, even with one man, would be frowned upon by everyone he knew. They were ideas and desires that could get a man killed, especially himself, with his two crosses to bear—respect and position notwithstanding.

  When Chris crawled back into the bed beside him, wrapping his arms around James to cuddle close, James’ throat clogged, and all thoughts of repercussions flew out the window.

  He knew he would do whatever it took to be with Chris and Troy, too, if the saloon owner proved willing to take a chance. He knew there was something there, something he wanted to explore with both men.

  For the first time in his life, James didn’t want to worry about what others might think or how his behavior would affect his reputation. For once, he had serious ideas about settling down with someone, maybe two someones, and balancing his profession with a personal life.

  He felt as excited at the thought of flouting authority and tradition and going after what he wanted as he did at the prospect of a good fugitive hunt. He knew the feeling would be ten times better when he got his man this time than it ever had before.

  James gingerly returned Chris’ hug for fear of hurting the boy’s ribs, instantly regretting how rough he’d been the night before, even if Chris hadn’t complained. Several times he had come close last night to asking the young’un what had happened to him, but he had kept his pie-hole shut for fear of ruining the moment. He didn’t want to cause the boy anymore discomfort than he already experienced.

  Coward.

  Ignoring the self-castigations, James placed his lips over the Chris’, holding back as much as he could. The kiss proved leisurely at first before James wanted more and pushed his tongue past Chris’ parted lips into his willing mouth.

  They attacked each other hungrily. James’ hands buried in Chris’ honey-blond locks before trailing down his body until he reached the young’un’s nipples. He caressed a swollen, tight little nub with his thumb, instinctively circling the nipple and skin around it until Chris groaned into his mouth and pressed against him.

  Chris rubbed his erection on James, and the friction he produced near ’bout sent James through the roof. Before he could flip Chris onto his back, though, Chris tumbled James onto his back and climbed on top of him.

  “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

  “I wanna taste you.”

  James arched a brow, hiding his pleasure behind his tough lawman’s façade. “Have at it, young’un.”

  “Chris. Call me Chris.” He delivered the words with much more confidence than he had before, and James grinned.

  He reached out to touch Chris’ hair, habitually pushing a loose strand behind the boy’s ear and cupping the base of his skull. James closed his eyes as he caressed the downy hair at the nape of Chris’ neck. “I reckon I could play with your hair all day.”

  “I reckon I’d let you.”

  James grinned again, bringing his free hand up to join the other in Chris’ hair. He gently fisted the locks and drew Chris in for a hard kiss. He released Chris and pulled away after an endless moment.

  “I’m wanting to feel your mouth on my cock now,” James rasped and watched as Chris’ pupils dilated before he closed his own eyes. He heard the young’un’s breath hitch in his chest, too. From his reactions, he knew that Chris liked him giving orders as long as it was for something he wanted to do anyway. James sensed the boy’s tough backbone and thought if Chris really objected he would say so.

  Good. He didn’t want a doormat. And he already knew he wouldn’t get one in Troy, either.

  James’ eyes popped open, and he gasped when Chris licked the head of his penis. The rascal had slid down his body when James wasn’t looking.

  “Wait.” He quickly reached for the wash cloth in the basin of water beside the bed and squeezed some of the water out before handing it to Chris.

  Chris smiled, his movements almost reverent as he washed James’ shaft from root and balls to tip before replacing the wash cloth in the basin.

  James’ hands automatically went to Chris’ head again to guide him. Not that the boy needed much guidance. His lips wrapped around James’ freshly cleaned erection as if he had done it a thousand times before and knew exactly how James liked to be sucked. He circled the smooth head, licking the liquid from the slit of James’ penis before he swallowed him whole.

  James stiffened, caught in the grip of powerful lust as Chris moved his mouth up and down his shaft. Chris simultaneously pumped it with his hand while he sucked.

  James palmed the back of Chris’ head. “God, boy…don’t stop.”

  Chris did stop, but only long enough to lick James’ balls before he pulled the full weight of each testicle into his mouth and sucked until James growled deep in his throat.

  “Want you. Want you now.”

  Chris quickly moved back to James’ shaft, and by the time his lips reached the base, James proved ready to explode. Seconds later, he released in the cavern of Chris’ welcoming mouth, his member throbbing and pulsing as Chris sucked him off.

  When James finally opened his eyes several moments later, it was to the alarming sight of Chris’ solemn face. He didn’t look like a man who had entirely enjoyed his experience, but his next words explained some of his expression.

  “I missed the wolf,” Chris whispered.

  James heard the wonder in his voice, as if the boy was shocked by his own words. “I did, too.” Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but James had a feeling the animal wasn’t too far away even if they hadn’t heard him.

  His gut instincts, which had never steered him wrong before, told him that they would be seeing the wolf, and very soon.

  Chapter 7

  Troy felt the two men long before he heard their horses gallop to a stop outside. His beast had sensed them before they entered the town proper—and another figure shadowing them at a far enough distance that the two men weren’t aware. His beast proved aware and recognized the figure on a level bone-deep.

  Had Cain decided to make his move and come out of the shadows to finally avenge Jack? Had he been the presence in the woods that Troy felt the other evening after he’d left James?

  Troy stood still, stopped rubbing his rag over the bar top, and imagined the two men outside tying off their horses to the hitching post. He inhaled and caught their road-influenced pine scents before the doors swung open and they entered the saloon.

  Troy’s eyes flew open as Chris crossed the floor toward the bar, looking so small, vulnerable, and young walking next to the colored marshal flanking him. He caught his breath at the sight of them. He had forgotten how striking each man was in his own way.

  Where Chris demonstrated light and sunshine and innocence, James demonstrated raw experience and power, dark desires and secrets. They were the flip side of a coin that Troy wanted to put in his pocket, keep next to him and never spend, just own forever.

  Schooling his features, he cleared his throat as the men moseyed on up
to the bar. Troy found it hard to maintain his poker face when Chris leaned his elbows on the bar. Temptation made him lean forward to meet the kid halfway, and only the most monumental effort made him stop before he kissed Chris. As it stood, they looked like they were in the midst of a private confab, foreheads almost kissing. This close, he got a good whiff of the boy’s pure, natural scent. He wanted to reach out and touch his face the way he had stopped himself from doing yesterday.

  He had kept himself from doing a lot yesterday before loaning the boy one of his horses to visit the marshal. After that ill-advised kiss, good sense had prevailed and stopped him cold from doing anything more intimate or from being bad.

  He didn’t want to be good anymore, not if it involved not having Chris and James.

  “So I reckon you were able to extend your thanks to the marshal?” Troy glanced over Chris’ shoulder at James as James pulled off his hat, revealing the short, dark hair he sported beneath. Like he wanted to palm Chris’ almost smooth cheek, Troy wanted nothing more than to run his hands over the marshal’s wavy hair and see if it proved as cottony soft as it appeared.

  “I reckon I did.”

  Troy’s heart skipped at the boy’s teasing tone. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the kid flirted with him. Why not, after the kiss they’d shared?

  How would Chris feel about Troy’s beast? Would it frighten him off? Should he introduce the boy to his animal the same way he had introduced him to James, ease him into the idea of being close to the wolf? Not that seeing the wolf as a separate entity would ever compare to seeing Troy actually shift from human to wolf form or vice versa.

  The Indians who had attacked his home when he’d been a boy were convinced he was evil. Would Chris and James think the same?

  The idea that they would be disgusted by him, that they would see him as less than a human or not deserving love, pierced his soul where only the deaths of his parents had wounded him before. This, more than anything, proved why he hadn’t revealed his past to Josie. He knew she wouldn’t be able to accept what he became, what he could do. When he got right down to brass tacks, would anyone?

  “I apologize for staying away so long. We—”

  “You can blame me for keeping him.” James finally stepped forward and leaned one elbow on the bar, keeping the other half of his body aimed at the swinging doors so that he could see whoever entered—the vigilant posture of a true lawman or an outlaw used to running from the law. He wasn’t like Chris, who kept his back to the doors and all his attention on Troy.

  He wanted to cuff the kid for being so careless and would have if he wasn’t so busy being flattered by the attention. Besides, he and James had the boy’s back.

  Funny that he considered them all a team. After the other night, Troy knew that James lived to protect the weak and would never let anything happen to Chris on his watch, the same way Troy wouldn’t.

  “I’m just glad he’s safe,” Troy said finally.

  “I reckon.”

  “I’m ready for you to put me to work,” Chris said.

  Troy had work in mind, all right, but it wasn’t anything that could be done in the mixed company of his saloon and everything to do with why he wanted the two men in the privacy of his own room, or even at the lake.

  Troy had a sudden vision of the three of them together, naked, and had to close his eyes against what he saw because it proved so powerful.

  He came around some time later to Chris calling his name and shaking his arm. He couldn’t even be sure of how long he’d been away. It could have been seconds, minutes, or an hour. When he finally opened his eyes to focus on Chris and then James, it was to their concerned expressions—Chris’ wide blue eyes and James deep-set brandy eyes.

  He wanted to tell them how much he needed them, but how did he go about it when they were both practically strangers to him, kiss notwithstanding. He still didn’t know how James felt about everything or what had transpired between him and Chris other than sex.

  “You okay, Troy?”

  He stared at James and nodded. He stood straight, then waved a hand and summoned Josie when he saw her descending the staircase several feet away.

  She looked as lovely as ever, and he couldn’t help wondering why God had made him the way he’d turned out. Why did he like men instead of women? He could have settled down and easily been with Josie, living together and running a business, and no one would ever bat an eye. The only way he could be with James and Chris would be behind closed doors, in the dark and secret, never walking down the middle of town in the sunlight, holding hands for the world to see.

  Wasn’t Troy used to hiding and running by now, though? He had been doing both all his life. From the Indians who wanted him dead, from the law…from himself.

  He had stopped running. Wasn’t it time he stopped hiding?

  “What can I do for you?”

  Troy smiled at Josie’s amiable tone as she stood poised between Chris and James, and that was saying something since they stood so close to each other.

  Josie’s floral scent floated around them now, cloying, nothing like the musky, masculine aroma of Chris and James and doing nothing for Troy.

  He leaned in nonetheless, and once Josie did, too, he said, “I need a favor.”

  “You and your favors.” She threw up her hands as if exasperated, but she had a smile on her face. “What is it?”

  “Can you and the girls take care of the bar for me until I get back?”

  “And when will that be?” Josie put a hand on her hip and aimed a wink at the two men waiting for Troy.

  Troy followed her gaze, that moment coming to a decision that he knew would change the course of the rest of his life. “I’m not sure yet. If not tonight before closing, then probably some time tomorrow.” He gave her a friendly peck on the cheek and left his cloth on the bar top.

  “Yeah, yeah, trying to butter me up for the next time. I know your game, mister.”

  Troy chuckled as he came from behind the bar.

  Both Chris and James arched their brows at him in question.

  “Let’s go for a ride, gentleman. I believe we’ve got some things to talk about.” He needed to get things off his chest in more privacy than the bar or even his room afforded. And he knew just the place to do it.

  Troy took the lead and sauntered toward the swinging doors. That James and Chris followed without argument proved a good sign. At least Troy took it as one.

  They all unhitched and mounted their horses in unison and again, Troy led the way, this time out of town. Adrenaline rushed through his body at the sound of two sets of hoof beats behind him, and it lightened his heart to know that he wasn’t alone in the world, at least not in this.

  During the entire scenic, hour-long ride to the forest near the lake, no one exchanged a word. Troy was afraid that speaking would break the spell or convince the other two men that they were making a mistake in following him without question, in trusting him.

  He hoped they at least enjoyed the lush burnished-gold and green landscape en route.

  Right then Troy realized why he had confronted James where he had last evening. He must have wanted to share a little of nature’s gift with someone other than the other four-legged beasts he occasionally found himself surrounded by.

  When he thought about it, even they kept their distance from him, instinctively knowing that he was different and not like them. They’d never attacked him the way the wolf had last night, and they didn’t mingle. It made him wonder why the wolf attacked him last night. What made him so bold and unlike his brethren? Or had then been something about Troy that incited the other animal?

  Once they reached the hidden cove, Troy dismounted and watched his horse go and take a sip from the lake.

  He turned as James and Chris dismounted.

  James put his fists on his hips and took a deep breath as he surveyed the area around him with a speculative look in his eyes.

  By the time James brought his gaze to Troy, Troy
knew he had done the right thing in bringing him and Chris to his favorite spot in the world. Troy came to this place whenever he needed to think or get away from it all. Until last night when he’d confronted James in his wolf form and before he’d been attacked, he’d always found safety and solace in this cove.

  That he chose to bring James and Chris here proved how much he trusted them. He just hoped his trust wasn’t misplaced.

  “It was you last night.”

  Troy’s breath hitched in his chest at James’ quiet words, his knowing look. He didn’t consider himself a coward, but he thought if he had seen anything but acceptance and awe glowing out of the marshal’s brandy eyes, he might have turned tail and run. However, the non-accusatory expression gave him some confidence.

  He stood a little straighter, silently nodding.

  “You’re a Skinwalker.”

  “Y–you’ve heard of my kind?”

  “I lived and worked among a number of tribes in Indian Territory for several years. I picked up a thing or two.”

  And it was then that Troy noticed the small wood carving hanging around James’ neck—a wolf with his head flung back in a pose as if he howled at the moon.

  “What are you two talking about?” Chris came to stand beside James, glance darting between him and Troy and back again. “What about last night? What’s a Skinwalker?”

  “I’ll show him,” Troy murmured. His heart lodged in his throat as he took several steps away from the two men and slowly began to shuck his clothes.

  He studied each man during the entire process, and by the time he got down to his skin—boots, hat, and a puddle of clothes at his feet—he had their rapt attention.

  He could well understand their interest, considering his critter jutted straight out from his groin, hard and totally aroused with the tip weeping.

  Troy turned from the two men and concentrated. He couldn’t help thinking he might have been off his mental reservation for doing what he was about to do. He couldn’t stop himself, either. He trusted the moment, and something about being around Chris and James made him feel indestructible and untouchable.