Texas and Tarantulas (10 page)

Mahon almost sat upright. “Trent!”

Oh yeah, he
really
liked hearing his name in that startled, breathless voice. And he could come to crave the wide-eyed way Mahon stared at him.

Trent was about to make it all even better. He held Mahon’s dick up with his other hand, then took the fat, dripping crown into his mouth.

Mahon’s head hit the floor with a
thunk.

Trent hoped he didn’t whack the same spot Trent had.

Mahon let go, begging, keening, giving Trent everything he felt.

Trent took Mahon’s cock in deeper, letting it breach his throat. He swallowed, came up a few inches, and tapped Mahon’s hip.

Mahon’s feet slapped the floor as he thrust. Every exhalation was Trent’s name, Mahon growing more frantic, sloppy with his movements as his release neared.

Trent gave Mahon’s balls a push.

Mahon bellowed Trent’s name out loud enough to wake the cattle in the pastures. He arched his back, his neck, so that Trent had a grand view of the underside of Mahon’s chin and throat.

Bitter, salty spunk, stronger than any man’s Trent had tasted before, hit his tongue. Trent drank down Mahon’s cum, closing his eyes despite his best effort not to.

No sooner had a tiny dribble leaked out than Trent was on his back. He opened his eyes just in time to see Mahon swooping in for a kiss.

Trent wasn’t big on being manhandled. It had to do with being short, having an attitude and something to prove. He allowed the kiss, enjoyed it even as he flipped Mahon onto his back again.

Trent’s dick was hard enough to use as a bat. He ended the kiss and scrambled up Mahon’s body. With a grip on Mahon’s hair, Trent ordered him to open his mouth.

Mahon licked his lips before opening wide.

“Fuck yeah,” Trent muttered, as he pushed into that warm, wet cavern. His eyes rolled a little when Mahon put his tongue to work mapping out Trent’s length.

Trent needed to come. He pushed in until the head of his cock entered Mahon’s throat. They locked gazes, Trent holding his dick in Mahon’s throat for a second, then two, before backing out.

Mahon grabbed at his hips, his ass, pulling, encouraging Trent to fuck his face.

Trent didn’t need much encouraging. He gave them both a wild ride, his balls slapping Mahon’s chin with every thrust. Sometimes it stung, sometimes it felt so good Trent had to shout.

His orgasm blurred his vision as sublime pleasure raced from one nerve ending to the next. White noise filled his ears, and he let his climax have him, trusted Mahon to catch him if he collapsed.

Which he figured he must have when he opened his eyes to find himself on the floor being the little spoon to Mahon’s big one.

Mahon’s breaths were slow, steady. He had his arms around Trent, one pillowing his head. They were pressed together everywhere they could be in such a position. Trent liked it, a lot.

And he wondered as the hazy hand of sleep reached for him, if this was how Joe felt about Diego in their first days together.

* * * *

Normally a very light sleeper, as he’d been trained to be, Mahon was startled to wake up and find himself the recipient of a scowl and a smirk. Plus, there was a shotgun pointed at him. Since Trent was asleep on his chest, that pissed Mahon off and he growled at Joe. “Move that fucking gun away from him.”

Joe raised the weapon’s barrel a few inches. “I can hit you and not him.”

“And I can roll over and beat you, bub,” Trent said, his voice muffled by Mahon’s chest. “Lemme sleep.”

“We have to work on the barn, and I didn’t get to tell you yesterday, but Sheriff Kenzie called with the name of a place that can do the DNA faster. I got us an appointment at three o’clock today, but it’s in San Antonio.” Joe nudged Trent’s bare butt with the toe of his boot. “So up and at ’em, loverboy. And what are we going to do with him?”

Trent raised his head. He groaned and rolled onto his back. “He’s going with us. What else? He can help with the barn, too.”

“You’re sleeping with the enemy,” Joe pointed out.

Trent flipped him off. “He’s not the enemy. Geez, and I thought I was the dumb one before I had coffee. Apparently that’s you.”

“He’s not dumb,” Diego snapped.

Mahon was surprised at the bit of fire the wolf shifter showed.

Trent just made a shooing motion at him. “Go away, Diego. Come back when you find a sense of humor, okay? Or when you have coffee for me. Come back then. The sense of humor can wait.”

“You’re not going to keep me locked up here?” Mahon asked, once Joe and Diego had left.

Trent rolled his eyes then rubbed them. “The fuck would I do that for? This is an all-in sort of thing, Mahon. I either have to believe in you or not. If it’s the latter, then there couldn’t be any sex, because I’d get hooked on you and want more. So I just wouldn’t do it.” He peered at Mahon from between his fingers. “Didn’t we talk about enough emotional shit last night, or earlier this morning, whatever? That should cover us for a few years on that kinda thing. Now we can revert back to the ball-scratching, spitting, cussing, fucking things we’re meant to be.”

Mahon had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at Trent’s words and the scowl on his face. Then it occurred to him that there was no reason he couldn’t laugh.

So he did, and it felt wonderful. It wasn’t the first time he’d laughed around Trent, or because of him, but it was a pivotal moment to him. Freeing, even, and he wasn’t sure why it was
that
moment and laughter, that did it.

He wanted to believe in Trent, and in the possibilities they could have together. It wasn’t going to happen, not for long. If he didn’t do what he’d been sent to do, others would be sent to complete the task. Mahon could take on another bear shifter and maybe win. More than that, no.

Trent poked him in the armpit. “You’re thinking too hard. Cut it out. There’s smoke coming from your ears.”

Mahon yelped when Trent poked him again.

A devilish smile lit up Trent’s entire face then Trent was on him, tickling Mahon mercilessly.

Mahon hadn’t ever been tickled, that he remembered. He couldn’t keep still while Trent danced those fingers over him.

Instead of just having two hands, Trent must have sprouted eight.

Mahon squirmed and laughed until he was gasping. He even giggled.

“Okay, I used to fantasize about watching two naked men wrestle, but it never included my brother,” Joe complained.

Trent stopped tickling Mahon and instead shook his butt at Joe. “Now you’re going to be psychologically fucked-up for life.”

Joe raised a cup to his lips. “I think I’ll drink the coffee.”

“Fucker!” Trent was up like a shot, grabbing for the cup.

“Careful!” Joe handed the drink over. “Jesus, cover your junk!”

“Like you haven’t seen it before, and vice versa,” Trent groused before taking a sip. His lids fluttered closed. “Ambrosia. That’s what it is.” Then he looked at Joe again. “It wasn’t that long ago I found you naked in your bedroom, going all emo because Diego had run off. You were naked and mean, and we had our own wrestling match. You think I ever wanted to fight my naked brother? Your dong was flopping all over, trying to get in a few punches of its own.”

Mahon listened to the others guffaw or snicker. He liked the easy way Trent and Joe were with each other. Diego was smiling like his world was made out of perfect. How could anyone take that away from him?

If Trent hadn’t come to town yesterday, Mahon hadn’t seen him and what had transpired between them never occurred, would he have been able to come out here and kill Trent?

At that moment, Trent met his gaze. Mahon’s skin pebbled with goosebumps. No, he didn’t believe he could have. From the moment he’d seen Trent, a connection had begun to form. It would have happened at any point he met Trent.

Trent kept staring at him in that steady, knowing way.

Mahon wondered if Trent saw into his brain, if he knew what Mahon thought, what he felt.

“And you used to bitch about me and Diego making smooch eyes at each other. Right. Now I know just what you meant.” Joe turned and headed for the ladder. Diego preceded him. “Hurry up or you two won’t get breakfast. Guess I won’t be getting to shoot my shotgun, either,” he grumbled.

“Don’t tempt fate,” Trent said quietly.

Joe hesitated. He gave the barest nod before leaving them alone again.

“Guess we’d better get dressed. I have clean clothes downstairs, so… See you in the kitchen.” Trent drained the rest of his coffee before taking a step toward the ladder.

Mahon’s mind was completely boggled. “You’re—all of you—you’re all trusting me?”

Trent sighed dramatically. “Buddy, I told you my view of it. Maybe you need some coffee, too. As for Joe and Diego, they trust me and my judgment. Either that or they’ve got a plan to take you out if you so much as hammer a nail wrong.”

“You’re making a joke, right?” Mahon needed the clarification on that last part.

“Maybe. Joe’s protective. I’m his little brother. It’s a thing between siblings, I guess.” Trent gestured at him. “Just get your clothes and follow me. I can tell you’ll sit up here and start questioning everything. We got to get to work.”

Trent was right. Mahon scooped up the sweats and shirt then trotted after Trent. Downstairs, they used the bathroom.

“Hop in there and get clean if you want.” Trent pointed to the shower. “Joe doesn’t have a spare toothbrush, so you’ll have to finger-wing it.”

“I take that to mean, put the toothpaste on my finger and scrub my teeth?” Mahon asked.

Trent leered at him. “Put the toothpaste wherever ya want, big guy, just be prepared for some stinging if you get adventurous.”

Mahon’s dick perked up and Trent chuckled.

Mahon got in the shower. He didn’t plan on taking long.

Trent watched him the entire time.

When Mahon went to turn off the water, Trent made a negative sound.

Mahon looked at him questioningly.

Trent pushed the shower curtain back and palmed Mahon’s dick. “Looks like you need some help. Keep your hands behind your back.”

“I—” Mahon didn’t get another word out because Trent stepped into the shower and began jacking them both off. How the man could keep both hands going so perfectly was a mystery. Mahon didn’t last more than a couple of minutes. Watching the head of his cock peek out from Trent’s fist was too hot. Watching Trent jack himself off was even more erotic.

Having Trent give him an order not to touch was both frustrating and perfect. Mahon came so hard he had to sit on the side of the tub and catch his breath.

“Tip your head back,” Trent said.

The heavy, gravelly note in his voice had Mahon obeying instantly. He could still see Trent.

“Yeah, just like that.” Trent’s hand became a blur as he increased his speed. “Fuck!”

Cum hit Mahon’s neck and chest. He moaned as the scent of Trent’s spunk surrounded him, the feel of it branding him.

Trent caught himself, slapping a palm against the shower wall. He panted for a moment.

Mahon looked down at what he could see of the spunk on his chest. He dragged his fingers through it then brought them to his mouth. Trent’s taste was every bit as perfect as it had been before.

“Jesus, man. You’re going to make me come again just from watching you.”

Mahon stopped sucking on his fingers.

Trent snorted and tapped his arm. “Don’t stop, for fuck’s sake!”

Mahon licked up every bit of cum he could. What he missed, Trent licked off him. They were almost done when someone pounded on the door.

“Damn it, we got work to do!” Joe sounded happy, despite the words and the shouting.

“Bet ya he just finished banging Diego in the kitchen. Watch where you sit,” Trent advised.

The kitchen did smell like sex, but it also smelled like bacon, sausage, eggs—and Mahon’s favorite—pancakes.

“Dig in,” Diego said, when he put a stack of pancakes on the table. He strode to the counter and a cup. “You want coffee?” he asked Mahon.

Mahon already had a forkful of pancake heading for his mouth so he just nodded when Diego glanced his way.

Trent sat beside him and breakfast passed quickly. There was little to no conversation, which was fine with Mahon. He was busy shoveling in the food.

Outside, it was already hot. Mahon looked down at the sweats. He was going to have a heat stroke. The bare feet were fine, the T-shirt was doable. The sweats were a problem.

“It’s too hot for those.” Trent gave them a tug. “Stand still and I’ll fix this problem.” He took a pocketknife out of a sheath on his belt. Trent crouched and began cutting the sweats off mid-thigh. “I know long shorts are the thing now, but I read online that men’s shorts are gonna get higher hems soon, and I can’t say as I mind that. You ought to wear booty shorts, babe.”

“I’ll go naked first,” Mahon vowed.

Trent winked at him. “That works, too.” He gave Mahon’s shorts a tug.

Mahon grabbed at the waistband. He’d been naked in front of everyone there before, so it was a silly but instinctual reaction.

Trent let go of his shorts and stood. He patted Mahon’s butt. “You got a lot packed back here. I like it.”

“I figured.” Mahon wanted to preen. He didn’t. He followed Trent to the bare bones of a wooden structure. “This will be a barn?”

“Sure will. We had extra help the last few days, what with people wanting to know about the search and all. Got a lot more done than when it was just the three of us.” Trent handed him a hammer. “Ever used one before?”

Even though Trent was joking, Mahon wasn’t. “No.”

Trent looked like he was about to fall over from shock. “Seriously?”

“Really?” Joe asked.

Diego just went about getting tools together.

Mahon held the hammer, liking the weight of it. It’d do major damage to someone’s head. “I was schooled in ways to kill, not carpentry.”

“That—” Joe pointed to the hammer. “Ain’t a weapon. Blood fucks up metal, too, so don’t even think about it.”

“I already did,” Mahon offered with a bland smile. “Either end of it would make an excellent weapon for up-close and even throwing, once I learn the balance of it.”