by Sierra Dafoe
“Did she have to? Kyle, the woman’s got an engagement ring on, does she have to spell it out for you?”
“She didn’t have it on, Al!”
“You’re sure?”
There was a sudden questioning tension in Alan’s tone—why, Kyle had no idea. “Damn straight, I’m sure. You think I wouldn’t have noticed something like that?” A sudden rage roiled inside him—but Kyle knew full well the anger was just a delaying tactic, a momentary shield against the grief he would feel when the fact sinking slowly into his mind finally hit bottom, cold and hard and absolute.
Cassie was engaged. Whatever had happened between them this afternoon, it didn’t matter. She was engaged to marry another man.
His voice sounded dead in his own ears as he repeated, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“You’re absolutely certain she wasn’t wearing it.”
Kyle glared at him. “Yes, I am absolutely certain. Jesus, do you think I would have…would have…”
He could see thoughts flashing darkly behind Alan’s eyes, turning over possibilities and connections that would have never occurred to him in a million years. Oh, he was no dummy, sure, but Alan was quick in a way that almost frightened him sometimes.
Like now. A hard, amused grin curved Alan’s lips—a grin that contained more than a trace of bitterness. “’Course you would have. She came back for you.”
“What?” Kyle stared at him, disbelieving—but at the same time a fierce, wild emotion leapt inside him, unrestrainable. His heart thundered, and the world seemed to tilt around him, as if the very moorings of the universe had suddenly slipped free. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t… But Alan was seldom wrong.
Alan’s grin disappeared as quickly as it had come, his lips twisting in a sudden grimace. “There’s only one reason a woman takes off her engagement ring, Ky. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
Kyle shook his head absently, his head spinning. He could see the implications as clearly as Alan. She hadn’t wanted him to know—and the only possible reason was that she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure it was what she wanted.
Alan turned away abruptly and went to the stable door. Leaning against it, he gazed out at the last grudging streaks of light in the sky. “She wants you, Ky. She’s always wanted you.”
Kyle felt a tumble of negations rise to his lips—arguments, rationalizations. He’d never believed that. Never. Not even when she’d held him today, taking him inside her where he’d always longed to be, surrounding him with the heat of her body…
Instead, he sighed. “Yeah. Sure. That’s why I practically had to drag her out here.”
“Because I’m here. She slept with you, didn’t she?” Alan’s back was as rigid as a flagpole, and the old darkness was back in his eyes—a darkness which Kyle, for all his efforts, had never been able to completely chase away. He closed his eyes, feeling an ache in his chest for all the things he couldn’t fix, couldn’t undo…
And now here was one more. He sighed. “It wasn’t like that, Alan. She was crying. I don’t think she’d even gone back to the house after the funeral. It was just shock, that’s all. I was just…”
“Trying to comfort her?” Alan laughed harshly.
Kyle flushed at his mocking tone. Yes—and no. He’d dreamed of Cassie for so many years—since he was a boy, in fact. There’d never been any other girl he wanted, never been any other girl he’d so much as looked at.
Then today, suddenly, she’d been there again, the scent of her hair soft and sweet in his nostrils, her body quivering under him…
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I slept with her. I did that. But it’s not me she wants. It never was.”
Alan glanced at him, the expression in his eyes hard and certain. “It wasn’t me she took her ring off for.”
“So?” And despite Kyle’s determination, the words came spilling out anyway, the old hurt and longing aching in his throat. “Alan, I watched her! Do you know how many years I spent watching her watch you? Christ, her eyes practically used to follow you everywhere.”
Alan snorted. “She didn’t even say hello to me.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly see you bending over backward to make her feel welcome.”
“Do you really think a ‘Hello, Cassie, good to see you’ is gonna fix everything?” Alan snapped. “Don’t kid yourself. As far as Cassie’s concerned, I’m the one who took you away from her.”
“You don’t know that! We don’t know that, damn it!” Kyle slammed a fist against the stable wall. “We don’t even know for sure that she saw us that night.”
Something cold and inarguable slid into Alan’s expression, settling over his features like snow over barren, wind-blasted earth. “She saw us, all right. Saw us and left town so fast she near about left her shadow behind.”
Kyle couldn’t help it—the bleakness on Alan’s face was too much for him. Going to him, he slid his arms around Alan’s waist. They stood like that a moment, their cheekbones pressed against each other, leaning together as they had so many times, for comfort. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.”
He could feel the rough scratch of Alan’s whiskers along his jaw. “And now she’s back,” Alan said. “For you.” His voice was low, harsh with old emotions. “If you let her go this time, you’re a fool.”
A sob heaved in Kyle’s chest and he held Alan tighter, remembering all the long, empty years of Cassie’s absence. What if Alan was right? What if she did want him? Could he even do it? Could he take her, claim her, knowing full well he’d be breaking Alan’s heart?
Because he wasn’t the only one who loved Cassie Jordan. He never had been.
They’d grown up together, as close as brothers. There wasn’t a shading of expression in Alan’s black eyes that Kyle didn’t know better than he knew his own face. And even as he himself had dreamed of Cassie through all the years of his adolescence, Kyle had known that Alan dreamed of her, too. There were times when they’d looked at each other, that knowledge dark in their eyes, a secret shared between them while Cassie, laughing, oblivious, had gone on simply being Cassie, tormenting them almost to distraction with her cutoff shorts and slowly lengthening thighs and the heady, intoxicating nearness of her.
They’d spoken of it only once, as boys. They’d barely even been teenagers at the time—he’d just turned thirteen, a month after Alan. Cassie had been busy helping her mother that day, and the two boys had wandered down to the creek, a shallow, sullen trickle that meandered through a thicket behind Alan's father's barn. They’d sat on the stony bank, tossing pebbles aimlessly.
You like her.
It had been Alan who’d spoken first, his gaze fixed on the muddy water. Kyle had glanced at him sidelong, feeling a sudden blush heat his cheeks. You like her too, he’d retorted, expecting—or hoping, maybe—Alan to flare up in loud denial.
He hadn’t. His silence had been all the answer needed. After a very long time (or at least it had seemed a long time to Kyle, with Alan sitting there motionless while he himself twisted and squirmed) he’d asked timidly, What are we gonna do?
Nothing, Alan had answered, his arm hitching back and then swinging with a sharp, unexpected violence, sending a pebble arcing high over the creek to clatter into the bushes on the far side. Nothing.
He’d turned to Kyle, his eyes full of the grim determination which would slowly, over the years, consume the quicksilver grin he’d had as a boy. If she chooses you, Ky, I ain’t gonna stand in your way.
Me neither, he’d replied fervently. And they’d shook on it, spitting into their palms first to seal the bargain.
But Cassie had never chosen either of them, seemingly content to enjoy their friendship, and they—like moths to a flame—had hovered, the fire in their bodies burning hotter and hotter with each passing year, each determined to cling to the bond they’d sworn.
Kyle’s head swam with the memory of Cassie’s warm body under him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she cried out, her voice ri
sing sweetly in the throes of her climax…
“Alan,” he whispered. “Oh Alan, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Alan jerked his head up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you ever be sorry. I told you years ago—”
“I know,” Kyle whispered, feeling heat sting his eyes and terrified he might cry.
He had cried, a dozen times or more, lying in Alan’s arms, seeing Cassie’s face in the darkness. But Alan had never cried.
Not once.
“No, you don’t,” Alan replied sharply. Then, gritting his teeth as if fighting for control, he added, “Don’t you think I’d rather see the two of you happy than all three of us miserable?”
It’s not that, Kyle tried to say, but couldn’t. A sharp pain caught in his throat, and he closed his eyes as the tears streamed down, feeling Alan reach for him, holding him. Alan’s cheek brushed against his and Kyle turned toward it blindly, seeking the harsh, familiar comfort of Alan Cain’s mouth.
Alan’s lips closed on his with a fierceness that took his breath away. His hat tumbled to the floor as Alan pulled him closer, his fingers digging into his short hair, plunging his tongue into Kyle’s open mouth.
Kyle moaned, his hands sliding laxly down Alan’s arms, feeling the heavy biceps bunch beneath his old corduroy coat. Alan kissed him with a ferocity that was almost savage—it was like being kissed by a tornado, caressed by a thunderstorm. Alan’s teeth raked across his lips, hard and bruising. His tongue thrust deeper, lashing. He stroked Kyle’s back, reaching down to cup the muscular swell of Kyle’s ass and tug him firmly against the hard bulge of his erection. Kyle felt his own cock flex in response, thickening inside his pants. He leaned his head against the stable door as their shafts strained, rubbing against each other through the rough fabric of their jeans.
Could Cassie ever understand the desperation that had first driven him into Alan’s arms? Would she ever forgive the adolescent urges that had clawed at him, urges he and Alan had slaked on each other’s bodies time and again? He could barely remember how it had started anymore…
No. That was a lie. He remembered perfectly.
Cassie had turned seventeen the winter before, and if Kyle had once thought he might not survive the heady days of her adolescence when he’d stared raptly at the peeking straps of her training bra, he was sure the delicious torment of her full womanhood would kill him. The creek, for a wonder, had run chest-deep that summer, fed by a record snowfall. Cassie had been wearing cutoffs and a white T-shirt, her bra practically translucent in the water as she’d laughed and splashed at them, daring them to duck her.
His blood had thundered in his ears, his head giddy with her nearness and the pent-up frustration surging through his body. Alan, he remembered, had been the same way, as restless and fractious as a wild colt. Wrestling and laughing, they’d thrust each other under the surface, limbs tangling with limbs, skin sliding secretively against skin beneath the cool, rushing water, until Cassie had at last torn herself away, fleeing up onto the bank.
She’d stood barefoot on the rocky soil, hands planted on her hips, droplets of water cascading down her tanned legs, her breasts so clearly exposed beneath the soaked fabric of her shirt that she might as well have been naked. He’d gaped at her, his cock like a ramrod inside his shorts, his eyes glued to the smoothness of her inner thighs where they disappeared beneath the ragged hem of her cutoffs into mystery.
“Well?” she’d demanded. “Aren’t you two ever coming out?”
He’d glanced at Alan who’d stared back at him, his wide eyes dark with the same awkward knowledge. Panting, their bodies blazing with all the horny lust of seventeen, they’d stayed in the water, hiding their hard-ons until at last Cassie had rolled her eyes and strode away. Then they’d climbed shamefacedly onto the bank, their chests heaving, their groins still throbbing. Sinking to a seat, shivering from his long immersion, Kyle had wrapped his arms around his knees and glanced over at Alan.
“Christ,” he’d mumbled. “What’re we gonna do? I can’t take this anymore, I swear to God I can’t…”
That was when Alan had bent toward him, his smooth, cool lips still wet with creek water, and kissed him for the first time.
Remembering, Kyle groaned, feeling as desperately horny as he had that day at the creek. Alan was nibbling lightly at his neck, the teeth grazing his skin, and Kyle leaned into it, silently pleading for more. The feel of Alan’s erection pressed hard against his own was as intoxicating now as it had been the first time they’d made love, there on the creek bed, their bodies arching against each other in a blaze of passion so blinding, so overwhelming, that half the town could have been watching them and they’d never have known.
That thought tugged Kyle back to reality, and he lifted his head, staring over Alan’s broad shoulder at the blank windows of the house, outlined against the darkening sky. Alan’s lips trailed down his throat, and he swallowed, panting hoarsely, “Alan… No, wait…”
Pulling back, Alan looked at him, so close to his own height that their eyes were almost level. Turning his head, he followed Kyle’s gaze. When he looked back, Kyle saw a flicker of naked pain deep in his eyes before Alan pushed it down, and nodded. “You want to go to her. I understand.” But as he started to step back, Kyle grabbed him, shaking his head.
“No. No. I just…don’t want her to…”
Alan’s eyes held him, black and unreadable. Then with a deep, ragged groan, he dragged Kyle into his arms, crushing him to his chest, his voice hoarse in Kyle’s ear as he whispered, “Then take me, damn you. One last time.”
Kyle nodded, hugging him back. Taking Alan’s hand, he led him away from the door into the warm, silent darkness of the stable.
He could still remember every detail of their first, frantic embrace, there on the creek bank all those years ago. They’d been awkward, fumbling, not sure how it was supposed to go or how their bodies fit together. When Alan had first tugged at his zipper, he’d pulled it so hard it had jammed.
Now, though, there was no hesitation in Alan’s movements as he unbuckled Kyle’s belt and unsnapped his jeans. His long, callused fingers brushed over the flat of Kyle’s stomach, caressing the hairs that ran in a line from just below his belly button down to his groin. Kyle sucked in a harsh breath, his cock flexing inside his jeans, rising toward that whispering touch. His fingers shook as he reached for Alan’s belt, even as Alan undid his zipper and reached inside.
Heat thudded like the blaze of a furnace in Kyle’s groin as Alan’s fingers closed around his shaft. He was every bit as hard as he’d been that day, seven years ago. And he wondered again if Cassie could ever understand how, bit by bit, the need they’d felt for her had become a need for each other. How the blazing, guilty delight they’d found in each other’s rapture had slowly deepened into something more, into…
Love. The thought didn’t shock him. He’d been living with the emotion so long it had become simply one more thread in the weave of his existence, without him ever realizing it. He loved Alan, pure and simple, as much as he’d ever loved Cassie.
Did he really want to give him up? Even for Cassie?
Suddenly, Kyle wasn’t so sure.
His arms tightened around Alan, there in the darkness, holding him close as he kissed him again and again. Alan’s hand worked up and down his shaft, teasing him till he felt like iron. Part of him wanted to lay Alan down in the straw, to cover him with his own body as he had with Cassie, plunging into the hot, tight embrace of Alan’s body…
No. No, this time was for Alan. One last time, he repeated, echoing Alan’s words. One last time to give back a fraction of the love Alan had given him.
His balls ached as he pulled back, sliding his cock from Alan’s working fingers. Already he could feel a drop of clear, warm fluid trickling down his shaft—but his own needs could wait, damn it. He sank to his knees, running his hands up the firm muscle of Alan’s thighs, doubly conscious in the darkness of the whisper of denim against his palms, the hot,
hard swell of Alan’s erection through the soft fabric. Deftly, he undid Alan’s buckle and opened his pants.
How many times had he done this? Kneeling before him while Alan stared down, watching from those dark, dark eyes as Kyle trailed his tongue slowly up his cock? He loved the taste of it, loved the way it jerked beneath his tongue, hardening even further as he wrapped his hand around the base of its shaft and took the thick, velvety head between his lips.
Alan’s breathing was harsh in the darkness, rasping in and out of his nostrils. Kyle could see him in his mind’s eye, his hips thrust forward, the long, tapering line of his torso leaned back a bit as he stared down.
He’d always loved it when Alan watched him do this, his dark brows drawn together, his gaze fixed on the sight of his own cock gliding slickly between Kyle’s lips. He loved the way Alan’s stern face relaxed, the line of his jaw softening, his eyelids drooping with lust.
Kyle plunged his head forward, feeling Alan’s cock grow stiffer, thickening as it forced his jaw even wider. His own balls tightened in response, tugging heavily at the base of his groin.
“Oh, Ky,” Alan murmured, his voice half a sigh, half a growl. “Oh, yeah. Harder.”
Alan’s words sent a shiver of anticipation through him. Swirling his tongue around the smooth head, he lashed it over Alan’s slit. A hot, salty bead of liquid pulsed into his mouth, and Kyle lapped at it eagerly. Then he opened his mouth wide, and felt Alan’s hands slide to his shoulders as he pistoned his mouth down around Alan's shaft, taking it deeper. He squeezed the base of Alan’s cock as he rocked back and forth, sucking hard.
Alan groaned and cupped the back of his head, pressing it toward him. He pumped his hips, ramming his cock so deep it burned the back of Kyle’s throat.
He didn’t care. He wanted Alan to take him, to fuck him, to lose himself in the heat Kyle could feel building in Alan’s balls. He wanted Alan to come, flooding his mouth, his throat, until his seed spilled from Kyle’s lips and trickled down his face…
