Let It Go (11 page)

The change from cold to hot left Eli momentarily stunned. “Yes … I mean no. Shit, Creed, I don’t know.”

Creed moved swiftly, almost like that day he’d come from a deep sleep, and much like that day Eli found himself on his back with a naked, furious man on top of him. “I guess it’s either fuck or fight. Is that it? Like yesterday. Or fight then fuck. The question is, which do you really want from me?”

Somehow the man changed while he watched, and Eli wasn’t entirely certain what he’d done. Creed lost the hard look; his face became sensual, eyes glowing with lust. His smile was languid, flirtatious. Even his voice changed. Softer, sweeter. He licked his lips with the tip of his tongue as he peered out from beneath thick lashes. His hand moved with a skill Eli hadn’t anticipated. Between his legs. Sure, strong fingers stroked his inner thigh. Teasing him. One long finger caressed the length of his dick. Creed bit his bottom lip, holding it between his teeth as he looked down at Eli, the look in his eyes—oh God, he couldn’t describe it. Seductive. Sensuous. Devastating. Completely un-Creed-like. Like some club kid he’d picked up once or twice. “Just fucking,” Eli whispered, mesmerized by the shimmering heat in Creed’s green eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” There was no pleasure in his eyes. Eli could see the cold hiding behind the sparkle, but he forgot all that the second Creed’s mouth was on him.

“Christ,” was all he managed to say as Creed took him deep into his throat. He hummed, his cheeks almost concave as he sucked him deep, deeper, his nose touching Eli’s groin. Precision, expert precision. God, Creed was incredible. He couldn’t ever remember … his body tingled all over. Almost there. Almost. A finger slipped inside him followed by a second. Never … he couldn’t catch his breath … oh God. “Not like this. Shit, Creed. Shit. Man. Just shit.” Somehow he managed to roll away just as his balls drew up tight. Best goddamned blowjob of his life and he rolled away; he was out of his fucking mind.

“What’s the matter, Eli, I thought that’s what you wanted?” Creed flopped onto the bed beside him, his face so close Eli could kiss him. “Me to touch you.”

“I did. I do.” Confused, Eli searched Creed’s face for some hint of warmth. There was none. Just like the day before, cold, remote. Just sex. Except this time it was a game. “Not like this.”

“Then how?”

Eli couldn’t stand the sound of his voice; he’d rather have his anger than this. Anything but this. This was all wrong. “Don’t worry about it. This was a mistake. I made a mistake. Won’t happen again.”

“Eli.” Creed reached for him, his hand shaking just a little. His voice was back to normal at least. “I’m out of my … I don’t know how to act with you. That you’re here like this … I didn’t expect … I never thought.” He stopped talking and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” Now Eli was confused. What did he mean?

“About me. What I am. I thought—”

“I was a homophobe. Is that—oh my God.” And suddenly it was all so clear. That first day in the hot Texas sun, Creed on a sorrel mare looking down at him with stars in his eyes and a shy smile. And he’d unleashed nothing but bile on him. After that Creed had stayed clear of him. Beating him in every event but never making eye contact. Never engaging. Because he was afraid of him. “I am such an asshole.”

“You said it. Not me.” Finally a real laugh from the man, one that made Eli tingle. Creed rolled over onto his back, still laughing. Eli leaned over him, sex forgotten for the moment. “I always thought so.”

“You are such a prick. What the hell was that? And damn, Creed, who taught you how to give head?” Eli regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. Creed looked away, the smile he’d worn for a couple of seconds gone now.

“I’ve had lots of practice. Did you come to fuck me or talk me to death?” Fun and games were now over. But at least he knew this Creed. Hell, compared to whatever that was before the blowjob, he even liked this Creed, surly as he was.

“What if I came hoping you’d fuck me?” The words hung heavy in the air between them. Creed stared at him as if he’d never seen him before. “Maybe I’m not such an asshole all the time.”

Creed didn’t say anything. He just lay there looking at him as if Eli had grown horns or something until finally he whispered, “You’re gay? For real?”

“I thought you figured that out yesterday. Hell, if you want to get down to it, I thought the reason you always gave me the cold shoulder was because you were—”

“Don’t say it, oh hell, Eli, no.”

“No what? You don’t want to fuck me?”

There was silence for a long drawn-out moment. “I don’t know. Depends.”

A hint of the sultry vixen from earlier returned as Creed drew his lower lip between his teeth. This time though the movement seemed almost shy. Shit, Creed was far from shy. And with that mouth he was at least as far away from virginal as Eli. Maybe more so. “Depending on what?” Seemed a fair question.

“How much of an asshole you are,” Creed said as he calmly flipped him onto his stomach and straddled him. Eli’s first inclination was to fight him, resume the dominant position. But he’d asked for this. And Creed’s hot body stretched out over his took his breath away. He felt him move, slowly, his dick gliding along Eli’s back and then lower over his ass, between his cheeks.

“Mmm, Creed,” he managed to say as fire consumed him. Warm breath washed over his skin, along his neck and down his shoulder. Creed laid his forehead between his shoulder blades. His hair, still damp from his shower, smelled clean, nice. Eli moved with him, enjoying the friction and the sounds Creed made. “More. Want to feel you inside me.”

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice coming in short puffs. “Eli?”

“Yeah?”

“You smell incredible.”

“I smell like horse and sweat.”

“I know. Smells good. Love—I, ah, never mind.” There was that voice again, just a hint of it. Too young, too innocent, too not Creed.

“Oooh, horse boy likes his men to smell all horsey and sweaty. I had no idea.” Eli couldn’t resist the taunt, using the moment of shock to roll Creed off him.

Creed lay panting as he stared up at the ceiling while Eli retrieved his shorts. “Why are you teasing me like this? Damn it, Eli, just get out, okay. I’m tired of playing games.”

“What games?” Eli slapped the condom and lube onto the bed beside him and climbed over him, his mouth so close to Creed’s he could kiss him. He watched Creed’s eyes change as he rubbed against him. Anger became helpless need. “Just getting supplies.”

“Supplies we didn’t bother with yesterday.” His voice was quiet, a touch of fear there. One Eli had no choice but to acknowledge.

“I know. I’m sorry about that. Lost my head. I pulled out before … I know, too little, too late; I know.” He tore the wrapper open and hesitated before putting it on Creed. “I swear on my mother’s grave, Creed, I don’t have anything. Physical just before this all started said so.”

“And what if—”

Eli’s hand on him stopped whatever he was about to say. “Do you? Are you?”

“No.” His voice was a gush of air. Eli rubbed lube along his length. Slowly, stroking him through the condom until Creed’s hips moved into him. “It’s been a long time, Eli. Long, long time.”

“How long?” Eli whispered into his ear as he moved over him, his hand behind him, holding Creed as he eased him inside. Oh, felt so good. Creed gasped against his neck; his hands clawed Eli’s thighs. “Like this. Since you’ve felt like this. Been with—”

“Never.” Teeth scraped his shoulder. Rough hands caressed his back. Creed held onto him, his body rigid, his breath fast and ragged. What did he mean never? Eli sighed, letting his body relax as Creed took over and moved inside him. Slowly, so slowly. Short torturous thrusts that had him sweating. “Feels good. Won’t last.” There was amazement in his voice.

“It’s fine. I won’t either. You’re, oh God, Creed, haven’t had this in too long. Forgot how it feels.”

“Good?” Creed held Eli’s face in his hands; his thumbs played under his chin, his eyes filled with wonder.

“Yeah, good.” Eli arched his back, forcing himself to take all of Creed. Wanting hard and fast now, he set the rhythm. “Move with me,” he encouraged Creed as he rode him. “Fuck me, Creed, hard. I like it hard.”

His partner’s eyes went blank, everything gone at those words. A growl issued from between Creed’s clenched teeth, and Eli found himself moving through the air. He gasped as he landed hard on his back with Creed between his legs, the look in his eyes almost savage. Eli locked his legs around his hips and held on. That’s all he could do. “How’s this?” Creed demanded, slamming into him. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Eli agreed, but the word came out as a moan. “Shit, more. Like it just like that.”

“Eli?”

“Yeah?”

“Won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop. Make me scream.”

Jesus. Eli held on tight to Creed’s sweat-soaked body, his mouth next to his ear, telling him how good it felt. When Creed emptied himself, Eli went with him. Calling Creed’s name because that’s the only damned word he could remember.

Chapter 8

One thousand dollars cash. That’s what the judge gave him early this morning. Creed couldn’t remember the last time he had that much money at one time. Pathetic, really, but he didn’t dwell on that too much. The development in his case, or rather the lack thereof, was foremost in his mind. The bar owner was satisfied with Eli’s restitution and incarceration, such that it was. He’d dropped the charges against Creed. But the girl insisted that Creed had held her as sort of a shield before pushing her into Eli’s fist.

Creed sat in the passenger seat of Eli’s extended cab truck. It was shiny black with chrome accents. Flashy as hell. Just like its owner. Rain continued to trickle down outside. Not exactly as hard as before, but more of a steady drizzle now. And the temperature had dropped, not considerably but enough to hint at cooler weather in the future. He’d caved to Eli’s urging and spent some of his money on clothes. A sturdy jacket, two new pairs of jeans, a few shirts, and a new pair of boots. Amazing how fast money went. The boots were worth it, though. He’d never had shoes that hadn’t been worn by someone else first. And these were great. Brown leather lace-up Ropers. Just what he’d always wanted.

Eli yanked the back door open and threw in several bags of groceries. Creed caught himself watching the man standing in the rain, straight hair a deep shade of wet red against his head. He needed to shave. Light red, almost blond stubble shaded his chin. A strange fluttery sensation swirled in his stomach, and Creed looked away just as Eli slammed the door.

“I thought you were only going to be a minute. I would have helped,” Creed said when Eli climbed into the driver’s seat and started the truck. He could smell him. Jesus Christ. That sweet-smelling man scent mingled with the outdoors. Horse and dust and sweat. That’s what Eli smelled like. It was fucking ambrosia. Made him want something he couldn’t have.

“Yeah, well, Tom decided to call me while I was paying, and then it started raining again, so I just stood inside and listened to him bitch at me.” Eli turned to face him and then looked over his shoulder to back out of the space. The feel of Eli’s eyes on him made Creed shiver.

He’d awakened to find Eli looking at him this morning. Leaning up on his elbow, just gazing down on him, a soft, dreamy look that sent Creed’s heart buzzing. He’d never actually slept with anyone before. Especially someone he’d had sex with. Those were usually over and done and on your way events. To say he was spooked was an understatement.

“What sort of twisted relationship do you and the judge have, exactly?” Creed had sat quietly through the interview earlier. The judge, dressed in plaid shorts, polo shirt, and deck shoes, seemed more like a disapproving father than anything. That he gripped Eli’s purse strings in his tanned hands was obvious. And something that irritated Eli no end. “I get that he’s your godfather, but he seems overly interested in your life.”

“Between him and my uncle you’d think I wasn’t grown, wouldn’t you.” Eli sighed, which became a bitter laugh. “Let’s just say when my parents died there was no will and that the two of them have been fighting over who controls me and my estate since I was thirteen years old. Tom doesn’t want me riding bulls. Owen doesn’t want me wasting my life on a run-down farm. Tug and pull. I got tired of it and I do what I please.”

“Except now he has your ass in a sling.” Creed watched the traffic glide past. He knew what that felt like. Being at the mercy of family was the worst.

“Pretty much, and that’s what he wanted to let me know.” Eli eased out into the slow-moving Sunday after church traffic. “Are you hungry? Is there anywhere else you need to stop before we go back to the ranch?”

His stomach growled at the thought of food. Seems it liked the idea of three meals a day and wasn’t happy with skipping breakfast this morning. “I could eat.”

“Waffle House okay with you?” Eli didn’t seem all that eager to tell him what the judge had said. If it didn’t involve the assault charge then Creed didn’t care to know.

“Sure. Food is food.” He shrugged in return.

“You certainly aren’t picky, I’ll say that,” Eli said as he turned into the parking lot under the yellow-and-black lettered sign. “Anyway, as I was saying. Tom didn’t okay the trip to auction next week. He said Sawyer would go for me. But he did okay using Sawyer’s lunging ring to break in the new horse. On the condition that we call before we leave and when we return. It’s part of work, and my setup isn’t ideal for that kind of work.”

“That’s fine. I’d like to take Kip along if we could. Get some practice time in with him before he forgets what he does for a living.” Not that Creed had done much pole racing or anything else in the past few years. He still liked to keep Kip in shape.

“I’m sure we can arrange it. I’ve got a horse trailer somewhere. Probably in the barn with the tractor.” Eli parked the truck at the back of the lot and started looking around for something, cussing at clutter under the seats.

“What are you looking for? If you don’t mind my asking.”