Bent Arrow (4 page)

“Touch yourself. Stroke yourself for me.”

Luther let out a shaky sigh and did as asked, allowing his eyes to close as he concentrated on the feel of everything happening in his groin. He panted and moaned little
ah
sounds with each exhalation, clenching around Erik’s dick until his orgasm rocked through him, rocked his entire body, rocked his fucking world.

He lay in an exhausted heap, come cooling on his stomach, muscles refusing to cooperate with his desire to hold on to Erik, to pull him closer. He couldn’t even manage to open his eyes he was so fucked out.

Erik leaned in and kissed Luther, just a sweet press of damp lips before he said, “That was beautiful.”

Luther chuckled, finding strength from somewhere and using it to encourage Erik to thrust again by squeezing around that amazing cock.

“Mmm. Ready for me to take it home, huh?” Erik asked around a sexy smirk.

“Fuck yes.”

“All righty, hold on.”

Luther did. He needed to because Erik fucked him in long, harsh strokes. He was going to be sore tomorrow, but who the fuck cared?

Erik’s breaths became erratic as he groaned, and he spent, dick throbbing in Luther’s ass and back muscles twitching under Luther’s palms.

He pulled out as soon as his orgasm had finished rocking through his body and competently mopped up the mess on Luther’s stomach. With speedy efficiency, he tossed the used condom and tissue in the trash before he lay down beside Luther, struggling for air. “Just give me a minute… to recoup.”

“Sure,” Luther said, studying the beautiful man next to him, finally reaching out to trace curves and lean lines he hadn’t yet gotten a chance to explore. Erik still panted, but his body calmed quicker than Luther expected, the true sign he was an athlete. The dim light seemed brighter now, probably because his eyes had adjusted, so he stared at Erik’s body, at how his muscles formed shadows across skin.

That was when Luther saw the tattoo that wrapped around Eric’s left hip. It was an arrow, just as he’d suspected, but the shaft curved all the way around to his hipbone. Right below that was a colorful furl of feathers that trailed down his thigh rather than clipped fletching designed to stabilize flight. It wasn’t an image of a functional arrow at all, but it was stunning.

Luther couldn’t help himself as he scooted down the bed to get a closer look at the vivid colors and fine details. “Wow. This is beautiful work,” he said as he traced the shaft. It was bent, curved but not broken.

“Thanks.”

“You didn’t get this in Rugby or anywhere else in North Dakota.”

“You’re right.”

Erik seemed reluctant to say anything more, so Luther worked his way back up the bed and rested his head on Erik’s bicep. Erik pulled him in closer and kissed the top of his head, so Luther allowed himself something he never got. He cuddled up to Erik’s side, pillowed his cheek on Erik’s muscled chest, and slid his arm around Erik’s narrow waist. Breathing in the scent of his skin mixed with the lulling motion of the rise and fall as Erik took deep breaths quickly sent Luther off to la-la land.

The next morning he wasn’t entirely surprised to wake up to an empty space on the bed.

But he was disappointed.

FOUR

B
ACKFLOW

L
UTHER TOOK A
chance. He shot a text over to Erik while on a break, walking away from the noise of the rig so he could think and type.

Last night was great. We should do it again sometime. Soon.

He hit Send before he could rethink his words. He did want to fuck again soon. And often, if that was at all possible. Erik knew how to use his dick, and he was nice to look at too. And touch. And kiss. Luther’s phone chimed with a text as he swallowed down the last of the water in his canteen.

What sort of hours do you work?

Crazy ones. What about you?

Mostly 8-5 unless there’s an emergency.

Luther shook his head. To be done at five each day….
I’m green with envy right now
, he texted back.

How many hours a week on average?

70-100, but less lately. The days of a roustabout are long ones.

Texting might be how we get to know each other then.

Luther smiled down at his phone. Knowing each other seemed to be important to Erik, so he shot back a list of incidental questions, things he’d ask if they had time they could spend together.
Favorite food? Best vacation spot? Dog or cat person?

“Luth!” Zach called. “We need you. Get your ass over here and help me with this mess.”

Luther tucked his phone back into the safety of his padded pocket and zipped it away. His days truly were long, and he wasn’t so sure he could keep up with the drudgery much longer without taking an extended break. Zach ordered him around, telling him where he was needed, and Luther complied, getting lost in the monotony of the general labor and not noticing as the minutes ticked by and the sun streaked across the sky.

When he stepped away from his work to take a piss, he snuck a peek at his phone again. Erik had texted back, his words filling Luther’s entire screen.

It went like that for the next several days, Luther asking questions and Erik taking the time to answer in flowing sentences with some words thrown in that Luther had to look up. Sometimes all Luther could manage on his short breaks was answering Erik’s returned questions with a few clipped words. It was nothing like Erik’s thoughtful answers, but Luther was sure Erik understood. He got that Luther essentially did nothing besides work, but now that chore was broken up by text messages that always left him smiling.

The other roustabouts noticed a change in Luther’s attitude, and they took great delight in teasing him about having a girlfriend or finding a highly skilled prostitute who was satisfying his needs better than ever.

“No, guys. I don’t ever pay for sex,” he told them, thinking about some of the underage girls and boys he’d seen around town who were more than likely part of the human trafficking plague that now thrived the area.

“No-strings-attached sex is the best,” Zach said. “I like to keep it simple. Get your dick licked, man, and don’t let these assholes stop you.” Luther grimaced as he remembered Zach had a wife back in Alabama.

No-strings-attached sex was all Luther had had for a long time. For some reason he wanted more. That reason may have been him finally maturing, but it could’ve also been how Erik had left him completely satisfied the other night, fully satisfied for the first time ever.

Little by little, Erik and Luther shared incidental stories about their time working on the oil fields and their lives growing up in small-town America. It turned out they had a lot in common, even a dog named Spot, though that wasn’t the most unique name, so perhaps they made more of that than they needed to.

Erik’s texts were always there when Luther was able to take his short breaks, and even if his smiles kept the roustabouts on his case, it was worth it.

Work that week was crazy, and at the end of each day, he was exhausted. He blamed part of his exhaustion on not having a day off because of his move to the new trailer. Then there was another necessary trip he had to make back to the lake after his mom called to say there was more water in the basement, a bird had flown through a window, and rain was getting through that hole and joining the water downstairs.

On a whim, he called to see if Erik wanted to join him. He could use an extra hand.

“Tonight? You want me to…. Okay. Let’s go,” Erik said, apparently with a sudden change of heart.

“Where can I pick you up?”

“I’m at that roach motel just east of you on the highway. Room seventeen.”

“Be right there.”

When Luther arrived, he drove right up to Erik’s room. He’d been here before and knew just how much of a dive this place was. Luther knocked, and when Erik opened the door, he saw Erik had a roommate, who he said hello to after Erik made quick introductions.

“Good to meet you, Luther.”

“You too, Garth,” Luther said before they excused themselves, hopped in his truck, and got on the road.

They listened to the crackle of the radio for several miles before Erik said, “So tell me about the problems with the house.”

Luther let out a huge sigh and then chuckled. “You sure you want to know?”

“Start with the water issues. That’s sort of my specialty.” Erik smirked.

Luther talked. Erik asked questions. Luther talked some more, and somewhere in that time, Erik scooted a little closer and Luther reached out to hold his hand, which he held all the way to the lake. The conversation came as naturally as their touches did, and Luther squeezed Erik’s fingers in silent appreciation.

When they arrived, Erik tried to figure out the water issues in the basement while Luther stapled clear plastic to the outside of the window the huge-ass bird had tried to fly through. The deck usually kept birds from getting too close to the house, but not a bird on a suicide mission. He taped the broken glass from the inside too and then mopped up the water from the floor. He couldn’t fix all of this in the middle of the night, but if he moved here, he had several pieces of maple flooring he’d have to replace along with the window.

“How’s it look down here?” Luther asked as he joined Erik in the basement.

“Your sump pump wasn’t working. That’s probably why you’ve been having so many issues,” he said as he scrubbed his hands at the laundry sink.

“Shit. I didn’t even know the house had one.”

“I rigged it so it’ll work for now, but it’s destined to fail pretty soon. You’ll need a new one pronto.”

“Great.” He ran his fingers through his hair to calm himself, knowing it would stand on end but not really caring.

“That’s a good look on you.”

“Oh?”

Erik finished washing his hands, not bothering to dry them, and then messed with Luther’s hair like he was styling it. “There. More revved up rather than faux hawk. More Billy Idol this way.”

“My hair’s not nearly that blond.”

Erik tilted his head and smirked. “Bet it was as a kid. I bet you ran around this lake house in swim trunks until your skin was golden-brown and your hair was so white you lit up like a nightlight.”

“Possibly.”

Erik leaned in for a tender kiss as he cupped Luther’s jaw and then spoke against his lips. “Anything else we have to do here before we head back, Blue Eyes?”

“Uh….” That was his grandma’s nickname for him, so having Erik call him that in her house was… odd. “I don’t think tonight.”

“Should we head back so we can both function on the job tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Let me mop up down here.”

“Already did.”

“Really?”

“I’m a good plumber.”

Luther’s heart nearly melted at the gorgeous smile on Erik’s face. “You sure are. I should bring this fan upstairs to see if I can dry out the wood floor.”

After setting the fan up in the living room and doing a once-over of the entire house to make sure nothing else had been destroyed in the last week, Luther and Erik got back in the truck and headed home under the star-filled sky.

“I love being away from all the light pollution of the derricks, which is probably the only thing that would get me to move up here again,” Luther admitted after driving.

“It’s shocking how bright the stars are, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know why I’m so reluctant to just accept this house and my responsibilities.”

“Maybe because it wasn’t your idea,” Erik said as he scooted closer, buckled the middle seat belt, and took Luther’s hand again. As Luther drove, Erik trailed the fingers of his other hand up and down Luther’s forearm. Erik yawned.

“You can sleep,” Luther said. “I think my shoulder makes a decent enough pillow.”

“I might, but if you start getting sleepy, promise you’ll wake me. ’Kay?”

“Promise.”

Erik leaned against Luther and was soon releasing soft, snuffly breaths. It was comforting, which didn’t make sense. This was so far off Luther’s script he didn’t know what to make of it. It was too comfortable, too easy, but for the first time in years, he wanted to run toward someone rather than away from everything.

At three a.m. Luther pulled up to Erik’s motel room door and gently shook him awake. “Hey, Erik. You’re home.”

Erik opened his eyes and squinted against the bright lights, looking around and then unbuckling his seat belt. The second he was free, he darted to the other side of the pickup cab and peered around cautiously.

“Everything okay?” Luther asked.

Erik kept scanning the parking lot and the windows of the motel as he said, “Just… I can’t be seen….”

“With another guy? Yeah, I get it.”

He fisted his thighs and said, “Probably not quite, but close enough. I’m gonna go.”

“Hey,” Luther said to slow Erik down more than anything. He didn’t like the look of panic on his face. “Are you safe here?”

Erik nodded but then shrugged a shoulder.

“Tell me.”

Erik’s eyes glazed over for a moment. “Not tonight. Maybe another time.” He slid his hand across the seat, palm up, and made grabby hands. Luther took the invitation and smoothed his palm over Erik’s.

“Thank you so much for helping me. My grandma’s house would still be flooding without your help.”

“Glad I could use my noggin to solve some problems. It was nice to get away from this place, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“True.”

“Sleep well,” Erik said as he squeezed Luther’s fingers. Then he hopped out and disappeared behind door number seventeen, but only after scanning the area with caution one more time.

FIVE

B
RAZE

O
VER THE NEXT
days, despite Erik’s texts sticking to the same tone and feel as before, Luther couldn’t get Erik’s reaction at the motel out of his mind. The guy was obviously afraid of something.