Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2

by Sara York

  Chapter Eight

  Grant ran his hand through his hair and stared up at the snow-covered peaks. He shivered and pulled his coat closed, tugging the zipper all the way up. Winter had hit early. They'd spent weeks looking for Craig, but nothing had surfaced. Finally, after four weeks, when their tempers were hot, flaring up at the slightest provocation, Duff had called a halt to their search. That had been six weeks ago. He was pissed at himself for blowing the lead they had. The English government had two men in custody for the bombings, neither of them were Craig, and those two men weren't talking.

  Duff had contemplated sending Roger over to see if he could get in talk to the pair, but none of their contacts had been able to get them an audience. Roger wasn't happy, but he understood the delay. If they somehow got time with the men, Roger would be the only one who could go since Craig didn't know about him.

  Everything else had slowed down. They were still busy with the cows and horses. The young colt Billy and Tucker had bought was proving to be a spirited little cuss. He was trainable, but a handful to say the least. He'd probably make for a great breeder once he was old enough.

  Roger stepped outside and wandered over to him. They both stared at the mountain for a few minutes. Since the kiss the day after he got back from England a little over ten weeks ago, he and Roger hadn't touched. The air between them when they were alone was full of heat and sparks, but he couldn't make a move, not yet.

  "I think I'll be heading to London in the morning via Cape Town." Roger turned to face Grant, his eyes bright with excitement.

  "I guess Duff's friend came through?"

  "Yeah, I'm a bit stoked that I get to go in as a guy from South Africa."

  "Your accent is getting better."

  "Thanks."

  They'd been working with him for the last month, trying like hell to make Roger sound South African. To the casual listener, he would pass. Grant worried that something would go wrong, but he wouldn’t tell Roger because the man didn't need that type of doubt. This was Roger's first away mission. He was to go in, talk to the pair separately, questioning based on a "tip" that had been dropped about the group planning a bombing on South African soil. It was a trumped up excuse, but they hoped Roger could get information about Craig in the process.

  "Want to help me with the horses?" Grant asked.

  "Sure, I like working with you."

  Grant smiled to himself as they made their way to the barn door. The rest of the guys were either in town shopping for food or busy with stuff in the house. The only thing he and Roger had to do was freshen the hay in the horses' stalls and give them some grain before calling them in for the night. Since it was getting colder, they brought all of their thoroughbreds and quarter horses in once the sun set. The mustangs were checked twice a week, but they were used to the harsh conditions. Also, they were just marking time. Had they not been bought, they would have been slaughtered. The guys took good care of them, probably better than what some of the other horse owners did, but they were kind of on their own.

  After about fifteen minutes of work, Grant took off his coat and pulled off his shirt. He noticed the look Roger gave him but didn't say anything. His dick twitched and he tried to ignore it. They were working in silence when they both headed to the tack room. Roger had removed his coat but still had his shirt on. Grant was watching him move and stepped closer, hoping to get a whiff of the manly scent. Suddenly, Roger turned around and they were face to face, their bodies almost touching.

  Grant was going to apologize for getting too close when Roger placed his hand on the back of Grant's neck and pulled him in for a hot kiss. He sighed and opened his mouth, allowing Roger to take what he wanted. The heat between them grew and Grant tugged up Roger's shirt, exposing the fuzz on this belly.

  They weren't rushed and they didn't move frantically, instead their touches and kisses seemed lazy as they groped and petted each other. When Roger broke the kiss, Grant had planned on ending it there, but the lust in Roger's gaze kept him mute. The touches were too alluring. He didn't stop Roger from popping the button on his jeans and lowering the zipper.

  Suddenly they couldn't get enough of each other and Grant ripped at Roger's clothes, stripping him naked. They were up against the wall then on the table in the tack room, Grant humping Roger, rubbing their dicks together. Roger pulled out of the kiss and sucked in a gulp of air.

  "Grant, fuck, I'm going to—"

  Hot come shot out of Roger's dick, slicking their bellies. Grant rubbed his dick in the sticky heat, his balls pulling up tight. He came, panting as he hung over Roger. Silence surrounded them and he pulled back, searching Roger's gaze for answers, but Roger looked just as shocked as he was.

  "I've wanted to do that for a while," Roger said.

  "So when you come back, are you going to be unhappy if I'm in your bed?" Grant asked.

  Roger chuckled and swiped some of the cooling come off his chest before licking his finger clean. "I'll be expecting it."

  "Good." Grant lowered and licked up a bit of their combined seed before moving to kiss Roger, sharing their essence on his tongue. They kissed for a long time, touching and squeezing as the air around them cooled.

  One of the horses neighed and pawed at the ground outside of the barn. They broke their kiss and laughed as they climbed off the table and retrieved their clothes.

  "Shit, we're late getting them in. The sun's almost gone," Grant said.

  "You open the gate and I'll get the grain out."

  "Sure." Grant called in all the horses, making sure they went to their own stalls. Tammy decided to go with Dusty and he had to guide her into her own place. Marshal had the grain distributed and he put out some hay.

  "Hey," Grant said after all the horses had been taken care of.

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you going to come to my room tonight?"

  "No."

  Pain lanced through Grant's chest, he didn't like being turned down. "No?"

  "You're coming to mine when you're ready. You want to be in my arms tonight, you sleep in my bed." Roger advanced on Grant and pushed him up against the wall. "I'll make it worth your while, but you need to be the one to make the decision."

  Grant rocked his hips. "Forceful, I like that."

  "I'll tie you up if you want me to."

  "Fuck, you're going to get me hard again."

  "Since I'm leaving in the morning, maybe we should keep this between us. Once I get back, we'll let the guys figure it out."

  "Yeah, probably wise. That way I'm not left with questions when I'm all alone."

  "Hey, Grant."

  "Yeah?"

  "You're fucking hot and I really love your body."

  Warmth spread through him and he pulled Roger into a scorching kiss. When they parted they were both breathing heavy.

  "It's been freaking tough to keep my hands off you." Grant ran his fingers over Roger's chest to his nipples, pinched them both. "Every time I see you with your shirt off all I want to do is lick and kiss these babies."

  Roger let his head drop and moaned so Grant took that as an invitation and began licking and chewing on Roger's nipples, moving from the left one to the right one until Roger grabbed Grant's hair and pulled him away.

  "Fuck, you've made me so hard again. Suck my dick."

  Grant smiled and dropped to his knees, opening Roger's jeans and tugging his underwear down. He was on Roger, slurping and sucking, moving slowly but going deep. Grant pulled off and slid his tongue down to the base before tracing the thick vein up the side. Roger smelled of man and musk with a hint of soap. Grant pushed Roger's pants lower then licked his balls, drawing one into his mouth.

  Roger moaned and dug his fingers into Grant's scalp. He moved back to the main attraction, going down all the way to Roger's pubes before sliding off. Then Roger grabbed him by the ears and began rocking his hips, fucking Grant's mouth. Moaning around Roger's dick, he opened his throat, taking him deeper. Grant unzipped his own pants and began jacking off.
Together they came, Grant swallowing Roger's come as he emptied his load onto the floor.

  He still sucked Roger's dick, moving his lips over the softening rod. After a moment, Roger slid out of his mouth and pulled Grant to standing, kissing him deeply and licking the come from his lips.

  "Hell, we need to get dressed or we're going to be in here fucking each other's brains out all night long. Then Duff will send someone looking for us."

  Grant smiled, knowing that a goofy grin was on his face. "Yeah, that would suck."

  Roger popped him on the ass and leered at him. "I really like how you suck."

  Grant's face grew hot and he smiled. "So you liked my mouth on you?"

  "Fuck yeah. Should have done this earlier."

  Grant stopped walking and turned to face Roger. "You know, I don't take this lightly. This is it. We're together. No other guys on the side."

  Roger cupped Grant's cheeks and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. "I get that. No one else, and there hasn't been since I came here. I haven't kissed, touched, fucked, or stroked off with anyone else since I arrived. Might be hard to believe, but when I met you and after our first few kisses, I didn't want to mess this up. I knew if you ever gave me a chance, I'd have to take it seriously."

  "You do, because I'm very serious about this."

  "Hey, anyone in here? Grant, Roger, where are you guys?" Marshal called out as the door squeaked open.

  Grant stepped away from Roger, his gaze shot to the drying come on the floor. He glanced back to Roger and noticed the hurt look on his face. Stepping forward and taking Roger by the hand would send a message to both Marshal and to Roger, but was he ready for that? He'd fucked up with Marshal and with Craig. His first inclination was to back away and act like nothing had happened, but he was often wrong about relationships and how to handle them. This was Marshal and Roger knew some of the history. Instead of backing off, he stepped forward, placing his hand on the back of Roger's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Roger gasped, opening his mouth. Grant took the opportunity to take the kiss from sweet to burning, wrapping his arms around Roger and holding him tight as he slid his tongue against Roger's.

  "Oh shit," Marshal said, effectively ending their kiss.

  Grant turned, catching the shock on Marshal's face. His heart fluttered and he wondered if he'd made a critical error. Then he felt Roger's hand on his lower back, massaging slow circles and he relaxed.

  "Hey, Marshal, we'll be there in a few," Grant said.

  "Okay, I didn't...Never mind."

  "Marshal," Roger stepped out of the circle of Grant's arms and faced the man.

  It took a short moment for Marshal to go from staring at the ground to looking at Roger. "Yeah?"

  "Could you keep this between us? Just for now. You know I'm heading off to London and I don't want anyone to give Grant a hard time while I'm not here."

  Marshal ran his hand over his face and Grant thought for sure they were going to have a problem. Then Marshal smiled and put an arm around both of them, pulling them close. "I'm happy for you. Just shocked. I wasn't prepared to see you glued together like that. Yeah, I'll keep it quiet, but you know—never mind."

  "What? Were you going to say you would tell Zander? Marshal, we do know who you live with. You two haven't said anything yet, but I know you're with Zander."

  He rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I know. I guess we couldn’t keep it a secret forever."

  "In a normal environment, it would have gone unnoticed, but come on. Who do you think we are?"

  "Yeah, but not everyone knows, right?"

  "No, not everyone."

  "Zander will figure out I know something. He'll see it and you know how Zander is. He's going to ask questions. I'll have to tell him something."

  "That's okay," Roger said.

  "Yeah, I don't mind Zander knowing. We just want to keep it to ourselves for a bit." Grant tried to move away, but Marshal held him tight, only letting Roger go. They walked to the door of the barn and stepped outside. Grant glanced over to Roger, noticing for the first time how similar Marshal and Roger were. He wondered if he was substituting his feelings for Marshal on to Roger. But he shook his head. He didn't have feelings for Marshal any longer. They were friends and work partners, and had never been lovers. His feelings for Craig had died too. He was no longer confused about that. Their relationship was truly over, allowing him to really feel for the first time in a long time. Roger had awaken something in him and he was glad he was finally brave enough to act.

  Marshal pulled him into a hug and squeezed him tight. "I'm happy for you. You deserve someone great. I have Zander and I love him. You deserve to have Roger. He's a good guy."

  Grant pushed Marshal to arms' length. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you."

  "Good, now let's head in, it's freaking cold out here."

  Marshal walked between he and Roger on the way into the house. He didn't move or try to get his hands on Roger because he knew they'd have time later. Tonight, he'd go to Roger and hold him tight as he slept.

  Having Marshal between them was a safety measure that kept him from reaching out and trapping Roger in his arms, kissing him until they both had to come up for breath. If he did that, he'd ruin their desire to remain quiet about the matter, letting everyone at the ranch know that they were together.

  Chapter Nine

  Life had a funny way of turning the tables. A few months ago, he'd been at the top of the world. Then rock bottom came screaming at him, slamming into him like a freight train. Now, he was at the top again. Maybe not the top of the world, but at least he was at the top of the mountain which left him in control.

  Craig had hidden well, keeping his shit together, and leaving no trace. Every fake name had been burned. When he'd left England, he had nothing to fall back on but a few thousand Euros he'd stashed in Paris. Wire transfers took time, forcing him to lay low, living in conditions he'd never had to endure before. Finally, after weeks at the bottom, he had enough of his money in his hands that he was able to create a new identity. When he felt he was safe, he flew to Alaska, the last place Duff and his team would look. It took two weeks to make his way to the contiguous fifty states, working fishing boats, doing things almost no one else would in the name of revenge. In Canada, he finally caught a ride with a group of hippies to get over the boarder and in to the US.

  The trip south from Washington State to Colorado was easy. He'd bought supplies and went camping two days ago, setting up on the other side of the mountain from Wild Bluff, staying away from their sensors, and keeping far from any trip wires. The equipment he'd purchased leaned toward the technical in nature, granting him a good view of the ranch and the barns.

  Earlier in the day, he'd climbed over the top of the mountain, searching for a spot to watch from. That's when he'd pointed the thermal imaging device he'd procured at the barn. At first he didn't recognize what he saw, then he realized two of the guys were banging each other. Engaging in sex in the barn, just like he and Grant used to do. If only he could figure out who the fuck was fucking. The last light of day was fading fast, already the details of the landscape were muted, leaving him at risk of tripping and falling. He didn't want to use a flashlight, but he might be forced to once he headed back to his camp. The couple was blowing each other, one guy on his knees. Images of guys fucking filled his mind, and though he did have a voyeuristic streak a mile wide, he wanted to see who was getting it on. When he took a break for a piss, a third body joined the pair. But the third wasn't in for the sex. When they headed for the door, he pulled out his high-powered binoculars, trying to catch a glimpse of who was getting it on in the last of the light.

  The men in the barn opened the door and stepped out. He looked through the lenses, focusing. Shock coursed through him. Marshal and Grant hugged. A new guy stood uncomfortably off to the side. Craig wished he had a parabolic mic trained on them so he could hear what they said. He almost laughed out loud.

  Grant had finally slept
with Marshal. He wondered what it would be like to see them together. He'd fucked Grant plenty of times to know what he was like, but what would the guy he'd stolen Grant from be like? Maybe he'd get a chance later, once he enacted the first part of his plan.

  He wondered how long Grant had waited before slipping between the sheets with Marshal. Maybe the bastard hadn't been as into him as he pretended. But Grant had sworn he loved Craig. That had been the best part of being with Grant. The devotion the guy showed him was much more than he expected. Too bad Grant didn't know the truth. Of course, that would have ruined everything. Grant had been so stupid at times. The guy was desperate, taking anything Craig offered, even if he wasn't offering much.

  The sky was almost pitch black and he needed to get back to camp. He wanted to stick around and see what else he could find out, but that could wait for another day. Craig turned and retraced his steps, finally pulling out the flashlight as he headed back over the mountain to bed down.

  Leaving the ranch had been easy. Actually, the first time he'd ever gone against Duff's rules, he'd set his course. The mission was easy compared to some. In and out, kill the bad guy then go home. But he hadn't killed the guy. It was one of those split-second decisions he made, setting him on a different course. When he'd arrived at the hit, he'd woken the guy up instead of killing him on the spot. They talked. It had been easy. Craig had taken a payment in exchange for a life. It took him an extra day to help the man disappear.

  It hadn't seemed like much at the time, but he'd made millions from that one twenty-four hour time slot. No one figured it out. That first day back at the ranch after taking the bribe, he was sure the guys knew. But they hadn't. He kept waiting for Duff to call his bluff about the sequence of events. But no one ever figured out the truth. He thought it would have been trickier than it had been to convince the men that their target had jumped to his death, his body lost in the ocean. Setting up the scene had been easy. The target even endured being sliced on the hand and leaving a trail of blood that ended at the railing of his mansion overlooking the ocean. When he'd told the story, his whole body had vibrated with excitement. Everyone thought he was just hyped up from the mission. That night, he'd lain in bed realizing that he'd done it. He'd fooled the old coot, Duff, proving to be smarter than the rest.