Texas and Tarantulas

by Bailey Bradford

  Bill darted a glance from Mahon to Trent. “You didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend.”

  “I didn’t when you were here. I’m just that good.” Trent smirked. “At anal. It’s a good thing we didn’t do that.”

  “Or else you’d want my place here,” Mahon said, hoping he didn’t sound like a fool.

  Bill raked them both with a doubtful gaze. “Right. You let midget man top. Sure you did.”

  Trent was across the yard and on Bill before anyone could stop him. “Midget man, motherfucker?” His fist connected with Bill’s cheek.

  There was fist-swinging and landed blows, grunting, cussing and kicking before Trent had Bill pinned to the ground, Bill’s arms underneath Trent’s knees. Trent was nose to nose with Bill, who looked like someone who’d just gotten his ass handed to him. “Just so you know, in Texas, an insult is considered throwing the first punch. You hit me first.”

  “That’s a…stupid…law,” Bill wheezed out. “Not…true.”

  Trent head butted him, though it didn’t appear to have been hard enough to really hurt. “Totally true. I’ve got three witnesses. How many have you got?”

  That shut Bill up.

  Trent sat up. “I’m letting you up. Call me a midget again and you won’t be able to get up next time.” He rose, taking his time, making it very clear to everyone that he wasn’t worried about Bill getting the better of him. “Ahh.” Trent stretched his arms. There didn’t appear to be a bruise on the man. “That felt good.” He offered a hand to Bill. “Need help?”

  Bill seemed wary, but after thirty seconds or so, he let Trent help him up.

  Trent pointed to Joe. “Go talk to him.”

  After Bill went to speak to Joe, Trent sauntered back to Mahon’s side. “I get a little irritated over short jokes. I’m not even that short. Five-seven isn’t so bad.”

  Mahon was almost a full foot taller. He decided a change of subject was in order. “What are we doing here today? Besides the obvious. Break it down to me in minute detail.”

  Trent showed a lot of patience with him, explaining the steps they were taking on the barn, and how Mahon could help them. He’d just finished talking when two more vehicles turned down the drive.

  The morning passed quickly from there on out, and Mahon was surprised at how hard everyone worked. At the rate they were going, surely the barn would be done in another week or so.

  At noon, Trent and Joe sent everyone home. Bill had left hours before after being assured he would get to look for wolf prints the next day.

  They fetched Mahon’s truck with the help of Joe, who drove them to it. “We’ll bring your camper tonight,” Trent said, when Mahon mentioned it. “Why don’t you and me head to San Antonio in your truck and let Joe drive Diego there in his?”

  “Sounds good.” Mahon looked down at his knife-cut shorts and bare feet. “Um.”

  Trent patted his back. “We’ll stop and get you some clothes from your camper first. We’ve got time.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Don’t you have to check in, give an update, something like that?” Trent asked three days later.

  “No. They trust me to do my job.” But he frowned and Trent asked another question.

  “For how long?”

  Mahon shook his head. “Not much longer. They’ll send someone else. Maybe more than one.”

  “Maybe they’ll show up and eat Bill first,” Trent said. “I’d be okay with that, as long as the rest of us were safe.”

  Mahon had grown very fond of Joe and Diego, and he was more than fond of Trent. That was why he needed to leave. “I’m not going to let any of you get hurt.”

  Trent had been sitting beside him on an ice chest by the barn they were still working on. The volunteers had dribbled down to zero the day before yesterday. Now Trent stood and poked him in the chest. “No doing something stupid. You aren’t allowed.”

  Mahon caught a hold of Trent’s finger, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “You don’t make all the rules, Trent.”

  Trent blinked, momentarily silenced.

  Mahon feared he might have insulted the man. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

  Trent blinked again then wiggled his finger in Mahon’s hand. “No, I know. I don’t make all the rules. That’s true enough. You don’t, either. You think you’re gonna go running off and leaving me here while you do the fighting. You ain’t thinking right. You don’t get to kiss my finger like that, like you’re playing and like you care, then leave. You aren’t doing that.”

  “Trent, be reasonable,” Mahon began, only to comprehend the poor choice of his words.

  Trent was glowering like he was ready to brawl. “I am reasonable. You need to follow my lead on this.”

  “On being reasonable, or going after the alpha?” Mahon wasn’t sure what Trent meant. “It isn’t just Diego’s alpha—”

  “Former alpha,” Trent corrected.

  “—former alpha that has to be stopped. It’s also the leader of the clan that made me, and the other Mahons. If he’s left alive, he’ll try to have us killed, and eventually he will succeed.” Mahon didn’t doubt that, and he wanted to make certain that Trent didn’t, either.

  Trent rocked back on his heels then went still. “Don’t freak out, but there’s a tarantula about two feet behind you.”

  Mahon didn’t freak out. He went berserk, leaping up, shrieking and running all the way up onto the porch. “Kill it!”

  “No. It isn’t hurting anything.” Trent did pick up a stick and poke at the spider. “Go on now. Well, shit.” The spider clung to the end of the stick.

  Bill came running, having been God knew where. “What’s going on?”

  Trent turned quickly. Time seemed to go in slow motion as the tarantula went flying through the air, either letting go of the stick or being flung off.

  “No!” Bill shouted, the word drawn out until the moment the tarantula hit him in the chest. Bill screamed and did a weird panic-inspired dance. “Get it off, get it off, get it off!”

  “It is off,” Trent hollered. “Calm the fuck down.”

  Joe came out of the house. “What’s going on?”

  Mahon was still trying to get a grip on his nerves. His hand shook as he pointed at the brown hairy monster skittering toward a hole in the ground.

  “Oh. I’m glad Diego’s inside. Now he wants one for a pet, and he doesn’t believe me when I tell him these suckers are not pet material.” Joe pursed his lips. “Although, if we found a baby one…”

  “Why?” Mahon found the breath to ask. “He was scared of them.” And why the hell would anyone want one for a pet?

  Joe shrugged while propping a hip against the porch railing. “He didn’t like being scared, decided to learn about them. Now he’s not scared.”

  “Just crazy,” Mahon said under his breath as Trent led Bill away.

  But Joe must have heard him. “Sure is, at least about that. I spent all my life trying to keep those damn critters out of my house, now he wants to bring one in. Or more than one. My old man would have shit bricks.”

  “Why didn’t he treat Trent equal?” It had bothered Mahon a great deal to learn that Trent and Joe’s father had left everything to Joe, except for the plot of land Trent’s trailer was on, and a beat up truck.

  Joe looked sad when he answered. “I don’t know. Dad was tough with the belt, used to spank us. Now days they’d call it abuse, but everyone I knew, their parents were the same. None of that spare the rod shit for them. We all got the rod. Me a lot more than Trent ever did, and not because Trent didn’t do shit he shouldn’t have. Dad just didn’t discipline him as harshly as he did me. Maybe that has something to do with it, or maybe because Trent went to college and I didn’t.”

  “Dad wanted one of us to go,” Trent said, coming back over to join them. “Bill wants to catch a tarantula now, by the way. Thinks his boyfriend will be impressed. Whatever, dude. But back to the ranch. Dad paid for me to go to college. He paid for my dorm room,
gas, food, everything. He didn’t write or call me even once. Never visited. Guess he figured he’d done enough for me already, since he didn’t like me.”

  “Mom favored you,” Joe added. “You may not remember, but I do.”

  “I don’t remember, honestly. Seemed like she was my whole world at that age, unless I was out chasing frogs and lizards. And I look like her. Same color eyes and hair, same height. Could be the old man saw her when he looked at me. There’s no telling why he just didn’t care for me like he did for Joe.”

  Trent didn’t seem bothered by it—outwardly. Mahon suspected there had to be at least a little inner turmoil over it.

  After a brief silence, Trent spoke again while looking out over the landscape. “Dad used to whale on Joe. Twice, I maybe got a whipping that left bruises on my backside and stomach when Dad wouldn’t fold the belt over. That was when you knew he was really pissed off at you, or you’d scared him. He’d get mean like that if we’d done something that almost got one of us killed. Like tanning our hides didn’t make us regret living sometimes.” Trent huffed, his hands curling into fists. “Never understood that kind of logic. Don’t want your kids getting hurt, so you hurt them. Stupidest shit ever.”

  Trent turned and that familiar cocky grin was in place. “I don’t care about the stupid will. This is my home. Joe’s said so more than once. He might change his mind once I get a few pups.”

  “A few?” Joe and Diego exchanged a look Mahon couldn’t interpret.

  Trent nodded. “Sure. You said I could, so I figure six or so ought to do it.”

  “Six?” Joe looked incredulous. “You’re fucking with me. I know you are.”

  “Am I?” Trent started down the porch steps.

  Joe looked at Mahon and Diego. “He is. I think.”

  “You and I aren’t done talking, Mahon,” Trent called over his shoulder.

  He’d figured as much. Mahon made sure there were no creepy spiders in sight then he left the relative safety of the porch.

  * * * *

  It was strange how quickly the heart could learn to trust. Same for the head, Trent mused as he watched Mahon sleep. Even when he’d first fucked Mahon, not knowing his name or anything other than that he was sexier than any man Trent had been with before, he’d still felt a connection with him.

  Walking away hadn’t done him any good at all. Not that Mahon was doing him any bad now. Trent simply believed them being together was inevitable, which kind of made him feel like a lovesick teenager sometimes. There was a battle between his pride and his other emotions over that, plus a little voice in his head told him it was too soon to be lovesick or love-anything. Trent told that smarmy fucker to keep its opinion to itself.

  It kept yammering away, trying to fill him with doubts about what he was doing with Mahon. Trent hated waking up in the middle of the night, his thoughts dark and unwelcome. It happened on occasion, when he was stressed usually, but sometimes for no reason at all that he could discern.

  He’d think about his dad not having much to do with him for years. Sure he’d paid for college, but that was about it. Joe and the old man had grown closer during the four years Trent had been at school. After the first couple of awkward holidays at home, Trent had started making excuses to stay on campus or with friends rather than deal with the disdain he thought his dad had had for him.

  And Trent would rack his mind, wondering if he’d done something, said something, to give the old man a clue that he was gay. Or had it been something else entirely that had caused the chasm between them?

  If nothing else, Trent tried to view it all as a painful life lesson. He’d learned to be loyal and hold onto what was important. Joe meant the world to him, and Diego did too. At first that was because of Joe, but now—not so much. Diego was a friend, and Trent didn’t have many of those. None that he saw regularly, since he’d kept others at a distance. Of course he knew why he’d done that. He had daddy issues, and abandonment issues from his mother leaving.

  Or being murdered. He wished he knew if she’d left them all intentionally or if his dad, or one of the ranch hands, had lured her out and killed her. If that were the case, why had she taken some of her things with her? Trent didn’t like the suspicions growing in him, the ones in which he was sure his dad had killed his mom, then packed up some things to make it look like she’d abandoned them all. He could envision the old man out in the dark, moonlight the only reason he could be seen, shoveling away at the ground while a dark form in black plastic lay on the ground a few feet away.

  Trent shivered and rubbed at his arms to chase the chill bumps away.

  “Now you’re the one thinking too hard.”

  He turned his head—he couldn’t really see Mahon but that was okay. He knew the man was there. “Bad night. Too much stewing upstairs to sleep properly.”

  Mahon hummed and pulled him close. “This about what we were discussing outside before the tarantula came along?”

  Trent had wanted to get back to that, yeah, but they’d ended up having Joe and Diego over, then having marathon sex after those two had left. After which, Mahon and Trent had both conked out.

  Now that they were both awake, though… “Well—mmph.”

  Mahon kissed him, a sloppy, wet, good, deep kiss. Mahon rolled on top of him too, and Trent’s heartbeat tripled.

  He debated for all of a second before spreading his legs and letting Mahon settle into the V of them.

  Mahon buried one hand in Trent’s hair and rested the other on the side of his neck.

  The slow glide of their cocks together was good, so good. Trent bent his legs and planted his heels on the mattress so he could rock up with more force.

  Mahon bowed his back then brought his mouth down on Trent’s. He sucked on Trent’s tongue, sucked on his lips, his chin.

  Trent couldn’t keep track. His body was waking up sexually, little firebursts of pleasure going off inside him.

  Mahon suckled a few spots on his neck then scraped his teeth over them down close to Trent’s shoulder.

  Trent found himself holding Mahon’s head there, encouraging him to keep doing that. “More,” he even said. His stomach swirled and clenched. He wanted Mahon to fuck him.

  It’s not me being the littler one, not me taking a role because of my size. It’s me wanting him, nothing more than that. Just me wanting him.

  Trent locked his ankles around Mahon’s hips and tried to make his desires known without having to vocalize them. He always ended up taking over in bed, but tonight he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to let that chip on his shoulder about his height deny him what he needed.

  And he needed to let go, just feel and revel in what was happening. He tried so hard to be level-headed and strong, overcompensating like the stereotypical short guy in jokes at times.

  But not tonight. Tonight he needed to be strong enough to open himself to Mahon in more than the physical sense.

  Mahon nibbled at his neck while rutting against him.

  Trent turned his head aside, offering more of himself. He pressed harder on the back of Mahon’s head. Hadn’t he already asked for more?

  Mahon scraped his teeth over that spot.

  Trent’s stuttered moan felt like the first puncture in his self-control. He clutched at Mahon even tighter.

  Mahon repeated the move then he bit almost delicately.

  “Damn it, Mahon,” Trent rasped before shoving Mahon’s head down, likely smushing his nose against Trent’s neck.

  But Mahon got the hint that time, biting Trent, pushing feeling and sensations into him through that contact.

  Trent gasped, his eyes rolling. It shouldn’t have been possible to experience so much pleasure from being bitten.

  Mahon trembled on top of him.

  Trent needed more. He needed so much, in so many ways. “Mahon…please.” And he couldn’t articulate it beyond those two words.

  The drag of sharp, pointy teeth over his skin should have been terrifying. It should not have cau
sed Trent’s cock to leak, his balls to draw tight, his stomach to dip and twirl with excitement.

  Yet those things happened, then pain and rapturous sensations washed over him as Mahon bit him, really bit him, sucking the wound even as his teeth penetrated Trent’s skin.

  Trent went limp, the pleasure too great. He was aware of coming, could see himself as if from a distance, body lax, legs falling open, arms dropping to his sides while his mouth gaped open. Mahon’s big body would be moving, undulating through his own release. It was a beautiful imagining, and when Trent settled back into his body, he knew he’d remember it always.

  There was a sharp ache where he’d been bitten, but Mahon was licking over that spot tenderly.

  Trent’s cock wasn’t yet soft, and if Mahon kept moving like he was doing, it wouldn’t get soft, either.

  For several long, lazy moments, they lay resting.

  Gathering their strength for round two.

  Mahon kept most of his weight off Trent, bracing himself on his elbows.

  Trent was very, very aware of the rigidness returning between them—Mahon’s and his own.

  Mahon began kissing him again, first his neck then back up, retracing the earlier path he’d taken.

  When he reached Trent’s lips, Trent was ready for him, lips parted eagerly.

  Mahon plunged his tongue in.

  There was no sweet and slow this time, only a fiercer need that surged in a circuit from Trent to Mahon and back. Trent clutched at Mahon, at his shoulders, his back, his arms—anywhere he could reach. He was unable to keep still, wanting to touch Mahon everywhere.

  They’d ceased using condoms after a discussion about shifters and humans, and their own health. Trent had never done that before, fucked without one, and he’d never thought he’d let someone else do him bare.

  But he was going to scream if Mahon didn’t fuck him soon.

  Mahon kept kissing him, mastering Trent’s mouth—all of him, really.

  Trent was a jabbering, rutting mess by the time Mahon began licking a path down his neck. All Trent could do was rest his hands on Mahon’s head and pant.