Santos watched as Tristen smoothed his hypothetical feathers and calmed down. A hint of hurt still lurked in his eyes. “Do you know what Roman is going to do?”
“From the conversation I overheard, Cade advised Captain to give it time,” Santos answered. “Captain agreed.”
Tristen laid his elbows on Santos’s shoulders and took off his hat before burying his fingers in his short hair.
“Are you going to give it time or take off?” Tristen asked while sliding his fingers through Santos’s hair.
“I’m going to wait and see,” Santos answered. He closed his eyes halfway, enjoying the hell out of Tristen’s lovely fingers massaging his scalp. “If I make the decision, it will be us leaving, anjinho.”
Tristen’s fingers stopped moving when he tipped his head and looked into Santos eyes. “Are you saying you want me to go with you?”
Santos lost patience. The gorgeous man in his arms had only to walk with a sway in his hips or crook his finger, and droves of men drooled over him. But if Santos wanted a true relationship with him, Tristen couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around it.
Keeping Tristen locked against him, Santos turned toward the provisions Blue was carrying. A flick of his wrist pulled a loop out of a rope, releasing a rolled-up blanket.
Hands cupped Santos’s cheeks. Looking up into Tristen’s big hazel eyes, Santo gritted his teeth to stop from snapping at him. Tristen rubbed a finger over his forehead.
“Don’t be mad at me, Santos.”
Tristen pressed his plump lips against Santos’s. When he didn’t react, Tristen slid his tongue over Santos’s lips before trying to press inside. Santos refused to let him in. Tristen lifted his head. A frown marred his face, and he bit at his bottom lip.
Not saying anything, Santos took Tristen and the blanket to a flat green spot near the pond. One-handed, he flicked the blanket until it landed on the ground in a somewhat smooth sort of way. Santos set Tristen down on the blanket and walked away.
Santos unsaddled the horses and got them settled before pitching the small two-man tent. As he unrolled the sleeping bags, he contemplated putting his outside the tent and Tristen’s inside. In the end he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from the smaller man. Santos ended up opening both bags before laying his on the bottom and putting the other bag on top to make a bed for them to sleep together.
All the while Tristen huddled on the blanket, fidgeting and watching him with wide hazel eyes. By the time Santos had collected some dry tinder and had a fire going, Tristen’s face was flushed and his bottom jaw was thrust forward while his lips were scrunched together. Those beautiful eyes that before had been pleading and reminding Santos of a puppy now were flashing with anger. Good, Santos was ready for a heated discussion.
Centering his good foot under him, and only using one leg, Tristen stood up. After resting the cumbersome plastic boot on the ground, Tristen stood there, seeming to measure the distance between him and Blue. Santos was actually surprised the feisty man had lasted so long on the blanket.
“Do not even think about walking on that foot,” Santos warned.
“I’m going back to the hacienda,” Tristen stated, flipping his hair back over his shoulder.
Spine straight and with his head thrown back, Santos stalked over to the blanket, not stopping until he was standing in front of Tristen. Widening his legs, Santos put his hands on his hips and looked down at the smaller man.
“Don’t you dare look down your nose at me, Santos Ebarize,” Tristen said. “You may be huge, muscled, and gorgeous, and way out of my league, but I’ll have you know, some people think I’m, I’m… I’m something.”
Just like that, the anger that was ready to explode drained away. He swept Tristen up before laying him on the blanket and following him down.
“You are something, all right,” Santos said. Smiling, he placed a soft kiss on the corner of Tristen’s mouth. “You are mine, and it is time you understand and acknowledge it.” Santos kissed the other corner of Tristen’s mouth.
“You confuse me,” Tristen confessed. “I’m staying in your room, but you’ve done nothing more than kiss me. You said we were dating and a couple, but it doesn’t feel like it.”
Santos studied Tristen, taking in his long, silky hair the color of sunshine. Thick black lashes surrounded wide hazel eyes. His skin was a golden tan from hours spent out in the sun, and his lips were red and plump from his straight white teeth chewing on them.
And then it hit Santos. Often he thought of Tristen as an incubus. And in a way he was. For Tristen, it was all about the physical connection. Santos smirked. The man hadn’t realized that, since he had come back to the hacienda, Santos had been laying a solid foundation for their relationship in Tristen’s mind. He had started with teaching Tristen to trust him in the pool.
“Be prepared to feel like a couple in every way from now on, my querido,” Santos said.
Leaning down, Santos covered Tristen’s lips with his. He wasted no time and started thrusting his tongue inside, mimicking what he was going to do to Tristen’s ass. Tristen never missed a beat and opened for him, accepting his dominance.
Keeping their mouths connected, Santos reached under Tristen and grabbed the back of his shorts, intending to pull them down.
Tristen pulled his mouth away and said, “Wait.” Quickly he opened his shorts.
Santos pulled until the shorts were lying in a heap on the end of the blanket. He reached for the bottom of Tristen’s shirt but was stopped by two hands on his wrists.
“I’ll take it off,” Tristen said before pulling the shirt up and over his head.
Santos’s eyes locked on Tristen’s pale tan nipples adorning a slim, hairless chest. It didn’t take him long to have one nip pulled into his mouth. Tristen’s skin was slightly salty from the heat of the day, but that didn’t distract from the unique musk and strawberry taste that was all Tristen. Santos was getting used to his shower always carrying the faint smell of Tristen’s strawberry body wash.
Sucking on the nip hard, Santos enjoyed the sight of Tristen arching his back and crying out. Letting the pebble-hard nip go, he licked it with the flat of his tongue and watched the muscles of Tristen’s belly ripple.
Switching to the other nipple, Santos nibbled and licked until it was deep red.
“Santos, jeez…. Please,” Tristen babbled. Blunt fingernails dug into Santos’s shoulders.
With his tongue, Santos followed the thin pale treasure trove of hairs leading from Tristen’s belly button down to the neatly trimmed thatch of light brown hair surrounding a slim, long prick. He sucked that sweet prick in all the way until his beard mixed in with the hair on Tristen’s groin. Fingers grabbed Santos’s hair, and Tristen’s moan filled the air.
Santos kept his eyes open, watching Tristen’s hair cascade around the sexy man’s shoulders when he tossed his head back and groaned. The man took a deep breath through his nose before he tipped his head back down and looked at Santos with heavy-lidded eyes. The sight of Tristen’s tongue peeking out and wetting his puffy, trembling lower lip had excited shivers racing up Santos’s spine.
Primitive instincts of possession, dominance, conquer, and claim surged through Santos, demanding that he act on his needs. He released Tristen’s dick, letting it bob against the man’s taut belly. Rearing up onto his knees, Santos ripped open his jeans and pulled out his cock. Keeping his gaze on the sexy siren before him, Santos put on a show of stroking off his iron-hard length.
When his balls drew up, scraping against the sides of the opening of his jeans, Santos was ready to fuck. He moved on his knees toward Tristen. The fact that he’d kept his jeans and boots on spurred on his need to take what he had decided was his.
Tristen’s eyes widened, and he sat up. When Santos moved, Tristen bent his knees and started scrambling backward. “Lube and condoms, Santos,” Tristen yelled.
Pausing, Santos reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube of slick and a condom. He
tossed the slick at Tristen and kept the condom.
In no mood to take any more time than necessary, Santos ordered, “Get yourself ready.”
Santos yanked off his T-shirt before grabbing the foil wrapper and ripping it apart with his teeth. Seconds later he was gloved up and could wait no longer to be connected with Tristen.
Tristen’s leg with the medical boot on was stretched out while his other leg was bent and spread wide. Three fingers were buried deep in the paradise Santos had become desperate to experience.
Santos crawled on his knees until he was looming over the golden-tanned beauty who was looking up at him with over-bright hazel eyes. His cock jerked when Tristen’s tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth. The slow slide of that tongue as it traveled over Tristen’s top lip had Santos’s cock leaking inside the condom. When Tristen’s tongue glided over his bottom lip, Santos had to grit his teeth together and think of the dirty streets of his childhood to prevent from coming.
“Put some slick on,” he ordered, thrusting his cock forward.
The wet sound Tristen’s fingers made when he pulled them out of his ass fanned the flames of Santos desire. He barely held himself back from lifting Tristen and setting him down on his cock. Balancing on the edge of control, he watched Tristen picked up the tube lying on the soft blanket. A few squeezes had Tristen’s fingers coated. Santos closed his eyes and tipped his head back in bliss when Tristen’s fist finally gripped his cock. Firm strokes coated the condom, enticing more blood to surge through his cock, making the latex stretch further.
Dropping down over Tristen, Santos brushed their lips together. “It is time for you to understand, my querido, that you are mine and we are together. Open for me and let me in.”
Tristen spread his legs wider and pulled up his knees until they were lying on his chest. His shiny, loose hole winked up at Santos.
“Please, Santos,” Tristen pleaded. Sweat made the lovely man’s skin gleam.
Lining up his cock, Santos pressed against the starburst that guarded his way to the bliss he knew was waiting for him. A shallow thrust had the head of his cock halfway inside. A gasp had him tearing his gaze away from the tantalizing sight and looking down into Tristen’s frowning face. Fingers squeezed his forearms.
“Damn, you’re big,” Tristen said between pants.
“Push out. I won’t wait any longer,” Santos said.
Santos pressed his cock forward, and the head popped inside. Swooping down, he kissed Tristen. They now were connected. Taking his time, he inched his cock through the tight, silky channel. He planned on spending a lot of time in this heaven in the future. Getting his Tristen used to his wide girth and long length was paramount in his mind.
Tristen tilted his hips up, welcoming him in farther. Breaking the kiss, Santos whispered, “Are you ready for me, my querido?”
A firm hand against the bare skin of his chest stopped Santos from moving.
“Am I really your querido?” Tristen asked. He was familiar with that word. Growing up in Texas, he had heard it and its feminine form used between couples.
Santos smiled. He buried his hand into Tristen’s long locks while pulling his cock partway out. “You will always be my darling.”
Santos thrust deep into Tristen and began a pace of long, steady strokes that had the smaller man clinging to him.
“Santos, I need…” Tristen gasped, urging him on.
Santos lifted one hip up, and both of Tristen’s legs hugged his upper torso. Santos watched Tristen arch his back and close his eyes. A low moan escaped through his parted lips, and cum pulsed in thick white streams across the man’s chest.
Muscles gripped Santos’s cock in a tight stranglehold, and he lost what little control he had left. Fierce bone-jarring thrusts had them inching across the blanket. Santos couldn’t get deep enough and plunged in harder.
Santos’s cock expanded, ready to blow his load, and blunt nails dug into his shoulders. Tristen screamed, and Santos groaned as his orgasm gripped him and cum exploded from his body. Under him, Tristen’s body shook, and more warm cum pooled in the small space between their bodies. Both men had to take a few minutes to regain their breaths. Neither looked away from the other, both desperate to keep the connection.
Santos relaxed down next to Tristen. He would pull out in a moment, but for now, he enjoyed raining soft kisses over his querido’s face. Tristen smiled before he broke out into laughter that had his hazel eyes sparkling with happiness.
“Do you feel like you are mine now, querido?” Santos asked. A smile stretched the muscles of Santos’s face. “Have I convinced you that we are a couple?”
Tristen tried to get rid of his smile by scrunching his mouth up, but failed. “I don’t know,” he answered, giggling. “Maybe you should show me again.”
“Maybe I should,” Santos answered. His cock began filling, ready for another round.
Santos eased out of Tristen’s hole with care. After standing, he gathered Tristen in his arms and, with quick strides, had the now wide-eyed man to the tent. Bending, he thrust his shoulder through the opening and took Tristen inside.
After setting him on top of the sleeping bag, Santos rolled him over onto his stomach. Tristen looked up over his shoulder at him and asked, “What are you doing? Talking isn’t your strong suit, is it?”
“I talk when I have something so say.”
Reaching into his duffel bag, Santos pulled out some tissues and deposited the used condom in them. After wiping up a bit, he opened another foil package and slid the new condom on. Next he grabbed a bottle of lube out of the bag and applied slick to his gloved-up dick. All the while his gaze never left Tristen’s.
Santos covered Tristen’s body with his own. Reaching down, he lined his cock up to the pretty rosette leading to paradise. With one thrust, he was back inside his querido’s body. “I’m going to stay inside of you until all of your doubts are gone,” Santos warned while placing sucking kisses along the soft nape of Tristen’s neck and upper spine.
During the night Santos woke to a multitude of strobe lights as lightning illuminated the tent. The ground shook under the deafening cracks of thunder.
Tristen stirred in his arms before lifting his head. “That was close.”
Santos was glad the smaller man’s voice was strong in the flickering light. “You don’t sound like thunder bothers you,” he observed.
Tristen chuckled. “Sometimes I think I’ve spent half my life sleeping outside next to a herd of cows. They hardly ever decide to have their babies in a nice, safe barn. And storms in Texas can be awesomely crazy.”
Santos put his large hand on the side of Tristen’s face and turned it toward him. “I think you are awesomely crazy,” he whispered against those puffy lips he was becoming addicted to. Santos forgot the storm outside the tent, busy creating one inside.
Chapter Eight
The first thing Santos became aware of was the howling of the wind. He opened his eyes to see the nylon sides of the tent heaving under the battering gusts. Every muscle in Santos’s body tensed. The strong scent of smoke filled the tent.
Putting a hand on Tristen’s bare shoulder, Santos shook it and ordered, “Tristen, wake up.”
Tristen jerked and, with wide eyes, looked over his shoulder at Santos. “What’s going on?”
“Get dressed. I think we have trouble.” Both men struggled in the confines of the small tent to drag on jeans, boots and T-shirts. Santos had to help Tristen remove the protective boot to get his pants on before sliding his foot back into the boot.
“Hurry,” Santos urged. Above an ominous, hollow roar of the flames, he heard the horses’ nervous whinnies and the stomping of their hooves. On the other side of the nylon, Sadie whined.
Bursting through the tent’s flap, Santos encountered a world filled with heat and gray smoke. Behind him, Tristen put a hand on his back.
“Holy shit, Santos. We have to get out of here,” Tristen said, tugging at his shirt.
&nb
sp; Santos’s heart just about stopped when he looked across the pond and saw a wall of flames eating up the underbrush while rolling sparks burst into the air. Turning in a circle revealed black plumes of smoke all around them, and in the distance, the forest was starting to glow. Santos’s eyes watered from the constant force of the heated wind and stinging smoke.
Coughing into the crook of his arm, he ran over to the horses and untied the ropes from their halters. They didn’t have much time before the flames would be on top of them. He gave Chester the home sign before hitting both horses on their rumps.
“Go on,” he shouted. “Go home.” Both horses took off, racing through the woods. He hoped they could run fast enough to save their lives.
“Why the hell did you let them go?” Tristen yelled, limping over to him.
“They have a chance without us on top of them. None of us had a chance if we slowed them down by riding them,” Santos yelled over the rising roar of the approaching fire. Streamers of sparks began raining down.
Kneeling, he took Sadie’s head between his hands and dropped a kiss between her beautiful golden eyes.
“Sadie, home,” he ordered and gave her the hand signal. Those solemn, knowing eyes looked at him for a moment before she obeyed and took off.
“Shit, Santos, we have to do something,” Tristen called out. “It’s almost to the pond.” Tristen put the bottom of his shirt over his nose, trying to take a breath between coughs.
Santos ran back to the tent, ignoring his burning lungs. He reached inside and dragged out his duffel bag. Inside was his emergency satchel. Opening it, he pulled out a flat packet. Ripping open the outside plastic protection, Santos took out the small silver fire blanket. When Morgan had handed them out at the last meeting, he had been crowing at how wonderful the new design and synthetic fabric was. Santos guessed they were going to find out if Morgan knew what he was talking about.
“We can’t outrun it,” Santo yelled. “Our only hope is the pond.”
“Fuck, this isn’t good,” Tristen yelled as Santos swung him up into his arms. They had to hurry.
The Tracker Claims the Cutie [Rescue for Hire West 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 6
