Luke later told us Colt had been an up-and-coming bull rider until he got hung up in his gear with a particularly nasty bull. Of the eleven broken bones he suffered, it was the compound fracture of his femur that nearly killed him.
Colt likes to joke he’s only here because one of the rodeo clowns was wearing a fashionably wide leather belt that day. I saw the video, and that was no joke. The colorful bullfighter, a well-known professional in the field, made a quick tourniquet of his belt, preventing Colt from bleeding out while the rest of his team herded the bull back to its gate. It allowed the first responders to get to him quickly, which one hundred percent saved his life.
At the same time, Luke was becoming a mega rodeo star. As soon as Colt was healed, with a ton of metal holding his femur together, Luke hired him to be his right-hand guy, someone he could trust. Colt was that guy in spades. Hell, he’s that guy here at the ranch, and we all love him for it.
Refocusing on the sweet man in front of me, I palm his belly and kiss a line up his neck. “Fuck, you’re a big boy,” I purr appreciatively.
He reaches out to touch my face, and I flinch a little. His hands are enormous and ranch-rough but gentle as he strokes my cheek and cups my jaw. After a few seconds, my shoulders drop out of my ears.
“You’re so handsome, Wick. Why do you like all of this?” he asks, gesturing to himself.
It always makes me uncomfortable when someone compares themselves to me or talks about my looks. My father, who put food on the table with back-alley boxing matches, hated how much I looked like my mother, and he had a vicious uppercut. By the time I enlisted, I’d had my jaw wired shut a few times.
I made it past USMC boot camp, but it irritated my injuries, and I couldn’t be counted on to hold a rifle and shoot due to the painful mess of deteriorating bone in my jaw. For a long time, everything was a migraine, and eventually, I was honorably discharged for medical reasons. I hadn’t even had a chance to serve a tour.
I should be grateful that all of the pain at least led to Rebel Sky, and I am, but it also felt like my father taking his final pound of flesh from me for daring to imagine a better life than the one I’d been raised in.
Only Wyatt, Renée, and Sparrow know about the facial reconstruction, and most don’t notice the scars under my beard. The scars on my hips are actually from bone grafts that gave me this enviable jawline. It was paid for directly from Renée’s trust fund. Not that anyone cares about my tragic little backstory becauseat least I’m pretty.
Hell, I can’t even deep throat.
I’ve seen the way Colt holds himself, and I know he’s not self-conscious about his size. That doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of how vicious pretty guys can be about bears. Just because he doesn’t hate himself doesn’t mean he wants somebody else to look down on him.
Even though we’ve fucked enough that hehasto know I enjoy everything about him, I think this sudden insecurity is from feeling off tonight. Whatever the source, it’s doing a number on my heart, so I decide to try my hand at cheering him up.
Putting on a smile, I tease him. “Why do I like a tall freckled bear? All cuddly and perfect while I’m feeling lonely and sad for myself? I can’t imagine,” I say, snarky but sweet because he’s so tender.
Colt’s expression softens and he pulls me in for a warm kiss. “Do you need me to top you? I know it’s not my usual, but if it’s what you need tonight…”
Huh. Maybe he sees I’m feeling a little tender too. This whole night is just…off. Nothing is really going to plan, but nothing is wrong either. Maybe we’re both just in a weird space.
I could do worse than this sweet, sexy bear cub kissing on me. “No, darlin’. It might be more of a cuddle-fuck than we’re used to, but I’d love to get into you.”
He bites his lip, blushing as he pulls me into a big, squishy hug. After resetting my equilibrium, we kiss while pushing down our underwear and continue as we climb into bed and under the covers. We make out for several more minutes, stopping to laugh and nip at each other, much closer to our usual vibe. And damn, this hard-won smile from Colt is like an instant hit of sunshine, healing and perfect.
Finally, he turns on his side. It’s another weirdly intimate detail of the evening, and I spoon him from behind, tucking my knees into the crook of his, kissing the back of his neck. I snake my arm around him, pressing our bodies even closer together. Laying kisses across his neck and shoulders, I flatten my palm across his beautiful torso and belly.
Like everyone else on the ranch, he’s strong and rough with hard-working muscles and a farmer’s tan. His freckles—and there are so many—stand out where his skin is palest. My hand drifts down to his happy trail, and I stroke the hair blindly, up and down with my fingertips while I nip the back of his ear. He groans, and I let my hand shift farther down, finding the soft brush of his pubic hair, then his stiff cock.
He shifts beneath my tight grip to push his generous ass against my hardness. I thought it would be awkward, being the big spoon to a guy who’s got a couple of inches and several pounds on me, but he kind of melts against me, adjusting so I can more readily access him.
“Wick, I need you,” he says, staring at the wall as he softens into my ministrations.
The rough edge of his voice catches me a little unaware, so I slow things down even further. Reaching into my bedside table, I grab a condom and some lube, carefully suiting up.
I prepare him with lubed fingers, spending a little extra time opening him. When his moans intensify, I slide out my fingers and press my body against his. He adjusts, giving me easier entrance, and I grip his hip as I push inside.
Wrapping my arms around his belly, I thrust up as he reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. He pushes back in time with my thrusts, and I smile against his back as I give into the slow build of comfort sex.
The more heated we get, the more he turns to me and the more I want of him. We’re not quite on our sides anymore, and when I adjust so we can kiss, the angle feels intimate. The moment he makes eye contact, desire ratchets up, flooding my belly and groin with an aching want.
I’m mesmerized by his topaz-blue eyes as I speed up my thrusts.
“Wick,” he sighs.
I sometimes wonder if Colt doesn’t have a little crush on me, the way he sighs like that. I guess it’s fair. I’ve totally got a little crush on him too. Thankfully, we both know the score.
Finally, we fully shift to face each other, and the heat continues to rise as I lift his heavy legs over my shoulders and push forward. My hands automatically go to either side of his belly, and the feel of his squish against my palms is fucking divine. He fumbles for the lube, then reaches between us, fisting himself as I find that happy spot of nerves in him again and again.
