Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Cole’s eyelids were heavy, his lips so plump from their kisses Ned wanted to capture them with his teeth and feel sweet juice on his tongue. But Cole stepped back, stumbling against the other wall as he put his dick back in with a low chuckle. “Yeah… that’s how you make a woman lose her head for you.”
Ned didn’t want a woman.
But had no idea how to express it. Or what it meant. All he knew was that his life had shifted onto a different track between those two cabins, and there was no going back. Had Cole enjoyed it too?
Lacking the words to express his feelings, he reached for Cole’s sticky fingers. He must have been waiting for this cue, because he shot into Ned’s arms right away, latching his sweet, hungry mouth onto Ned’s lips.
Unstable on his feet, Ned fell back again, and they both hit the wall of the cabin, freezing at the sound of someone slapping the wood from the other side.
The resident had awakened.
“Take the damn whore somewhere else!” a man roared with a slur, but instead of worrying they’d been discovered, Cole snorted, biting his bottom lip hard to keep from laughter.
“You heard him.”
They were either both whores, or neither of them was. He had no point of reference to make sense of this new reality. Spooked, he rushed from between the two homes only to realize he hadn’t tucked his dick back in and had to do that first. Thank God for suspenders.
“We… I—” Ned didn’t know what he wanted to say, looking back at Cole every other second, afraid the man would disappear if he didn’t remain in sight.
Cole didn’t miss Ned’s intrusive gaze and smirked so deliciously Ned walked into a barrel and hit his thigh. Without shadow to keep moonlight from his face, Cole was a beacon Ned needed to follow even though his legs were unstable and his thoughts—a mess.
“Come here,” Cole said, pulling Ned closer by the arm. He let out a chuckle the moment their hips bumped, and hugged Ned. “Let’s go. Go somewhere… Somewhere private. Wanna look at you, Neddie. All of you.”
Look. At him.
Ned had the sudden urge to find a mirror and wipe the blood off his face. He wasn’t much to look at, but if Cole wanted to, he’d get his wish. He’d get whatever he wanted.
Ned indulged in the hug that didn’t feel like a friendly pat from a friend, nor his aunt’s warm and familiar embrace. Cole’s hands wandered, craving a rerun of what they’d done, and to Ned’s astonishment his own cock was interested too.
So he pulled away, because they were closer to light now, back by the dance-hall, which had closed for the night, and Ned had no idea what he was to do.
As long as he was alone with Cole, he wouldn’t have to worry about prying eyes or what their little entanglement meant.
“Yes. If we take the horses we can… we can go…” Ned swallowed, still drunk. “I don’t know where we are.”
“That’s all right.” To Ned’s horror, Cole gave him a peck on the mouth before stumbling toward the photographist’s shop.
Despite the frost tensing Ned’s body, no one had spotted their transgression, and he chose not to mention it when they walked through the town hand-in-hand, each with their own photograph. The sky was starting to brighten at this point, and it was better if they fled town before it came to life.
Yet he couldn’t make himself let go of the fingers squeezing his. There was always the unspoken requirement to puff one’s chest out in the company of men, but he didn’t feel like Cole would judge him if he didn’t. He needed something else from Ned. Something… sweet and tender.
Thinking seemed useless, so he settled on enjoying Cole’s warmth, the paling sky, and the scent of dirt under their feet.
A rooster cried somewhere between the cabins just before they reached the stables, but as they turned toward the entrance, Ned halted when his gaze fell on a familiar figure. Tall and wiry, with a long braid and piercing eyes, Saul was a scratch on the perfect picture of their drunken escapade. What was he doing here? Had he been in town this whole time? Had he seen Ned and Cole dancing too close, or had soundlessly followed them between the cabins?
When someone spoke, it came from the side, where Doc leaned against the wall of the stable, his tall form in browns only a shadow. “There you are. We’ve looked for you everywhere, but not a soul had seen you in the past half an hour,” he said, his brows low over the broad, shapely nose.
Saul gave a curt nod, and Ned was relieved to realize that he had in fact let go of Cole’s hand at some point. Still, he wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt, then rubbed his sweaty palm against the leg of his pants, worried that the Indian techniques that made Saul such a good hunter might mean he could sniff out Ned and Cole’s actions. Was it even possible?