“Oh.” He kinda flung himself at Coke, hopping up for an all-fours hug.
Those strong arms wrapped around him, squeezed him tight.
“Love the way you feel.” Luckily they were right by the bed, so if Coke got tired… Which he rarely did.
“Good.” Coke’s hands were on his ass, fingers squeezing and rubbing. “You got the prettiest ass in rodeoing.”
Which was high praise, honestly, given that he had Sam Bell and Balta to compete with there. They both had fine asses, though Dillon would never tell them. Unless he was drunk. Which he’d done to Balta once. He might have even felt up Balta’s ass…
Okay, he was getting distracted.
Coke was waiting, so Dillon kissed him, just to say thank you. Coke kissed him back, full force, tongue pushing between his lips as if there was nothing else the man wanted to do, ever. Thank God for that, because Dillon could spend all his time just like this. With Coke.
“Cowboy…” Coke’s lips left his, just for a second.
“Yours.” Heart and soul and all other sorts of places.
Coke hummed softly, and he got that grin, that wondering smile that was his and his alone.
“So. Bed or snow?” He grinned back.
“I have to choose?”
“Which one you want first, yeah.” They just needed to do them consecutively, not concurrently.
“Well, I reckon the pups are still napping and I’m more nekkid than not. So bed.”
“Oh, that was what I was hoping for.” Dillon let go, knowing Coke would give him a good toss on the bed.
He landed smack in the middle, his bullfighter looking him up and down.
Dillon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his long undies, peeling them down a bit. Just enough to tease.
Coke’s eyes fastened onto his belly like a laser, and the man’s lips parted. The fabric slid down another inch, his cock making atent there now. God, this was fun. Coke stepped forward, tongue wetting his parted lips, and a dark spot appeared on the green boxer briefs.
Dillon swallowed, letting his legs fall open, letting his hands reach for Coke. Damn. Coke didn’t say a word, just came to him, lips slipping up along his cock.
“Coke!” Oh, hell. He was in trouble.
“Mmmhmm?” Fuck. That mouth was wrapping around his cock, nice and careful. From this angle, he could see the heavy, still-red scars on the back of Coke’s neck.
Frowning, he stroked them a bit, hoping Coke wasn’t overdoing it. Sometimes he forgot because Coke was so strong.
That mouth moved lower, tongue working the shaft of his dick.
“Coke.” He loved the feel of Coke’s mouth on him, of the heat and wetness of it.
“Mmmhmm.” Coke couldn’t move fast, but the pressure was enough to make his toes curl.
His belly went tight, his balls drawing up. It was good enough to make him moan. Coke’s callused hand found his sac, and the man cupped it in one palm, rolling it firmly. Dillon’s heels drummed the mattress, his body arching up.Fuck, yes.
He felt Coke’s approval in every inch of his cock.
“Please. Coke.” He wasn’t sure if he was begging for more sucking, or for Coke to come up and kiss him. Whatever.
Coke moaned softly, that mouth sinking down deeper, taking him in and in and in.
“Oh…” Oh and maybe oh. Dillon rocked, his hips moving like crazy, his chest heaving.
