“Fuck.” Patrick closed his eyes, head thuddin’ against the wall.
Nash chuckled, dark and delicious, sendin’ a chill down Patrick’s spine. “Imagine if you had let me call, Baby. I could’ve talked you through it over the phone, listened to you fall apart to my voice.”
“God damn,” Patrick panted. “I wouldn’t have fuckin’ survived.”
“Yeah? Youthatdesperate for me?”
“Don’t go gettin’ a big head.”
“Mm, someone’s got a bit of an attitude. Maybe you need a reminder for who’s in charge here.”
“Or maybe I need you to stop yappin’ and to hurry up and fuck me like I know we’ve both been cravin’ since you left.”
“You’ve gotten mouthy since last winter.” Nash’s teeth grazed Patrick’s skin as he kissed a trail up Patrick’s neck. “Good thing I like tamin’ bratty things like you.”
Need lassoed around Patrick’s spine, urgin’ him to buckle beneath Nash. Instead, Patrick let out a small, breathless laugh. “The only one of us that needs any tamin’ is you.”
“Is that so? I don’t know if you listened to a lick of what I said on the drive back, but in case you didn’t, I’ve settled down quite a bit because of you. Dare I say, you’ve made aloveroutta me, Baby.”
Patrick sucked in a breath, head spinnin’ a mile a minute. A lover. He’s made aGod damnlover out of Nash fuckin’ Colby. Patrick grabbed Nash’s face and kissed him hard, harder than he’d ever kissed him before, prayin’ that Nash understood what Patrick was tryin’ to say without havin’ to hear the words that he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. Maybe one day, when the time was right, he’d tell Nash exactly how he felt. Ask him to give up his little life up north with Natty Mae to stay down here on the ranch. Hell, maybe they could even run away together and get their own ranch outside of Suncreek Ridge. There were plenty of small towns where no one would know either of them, and they could live together without worry. He’d ask Nash before he left for the warm season. Right now, Patrick just wanted to enjoy being back together.
“I need you,” Patrick said into Nash’s mouth.
“Oh yeah?”
Patrick hated how that cocky tone of Nash’s made him harder than he cared to admit.
“Prove it.”
“What?”
Nash took Patrick’s chin between his finger and thumb. “Prove it. Get on your knees and kiss my boots, Baby.”
“You can’t be—”
“Oh, I’m serious.”
“I ain’t kissin’ your dirty boots.”
“C’mon now”—Nash stroked his knuckles across Patrick’s cheek—“be a good boy for me and kiss ‘em.”
Patrick buckled in a heartbeat. He sank down to his knees, maintainin’ eye contact with Nash who tilted his head back with a small smirk. “Go on, Baby. Prove how much you need me.”
Patrick kissed the top of Nash’s dark brown leather cowboy boots. The faint taste of mud lingered on Patrick’s lips. Nash hummed, runnin’ his fingers through Patrick’s hair. He leaned into the touch, sinkin’ into the hidden space deep within his mind. One that only Nash could get him to.
He shuffled forward on his knees then began to unbuckle Nash’s belt. Nash watched wordlessly, eyes shimmerin’ with desire and somethin’ else that Patrick couldn’t put his finger on. Somethin’ that made his heart flip. Somethin’ that looked a lot likewe’ll have forever.
“Hold on.” Nash tugged on Patrick’s hair. “As much as I love seein’ you on your knees, I want you bent over the side of the couch so I can take a bit out of that juicy peach of yours.”
Patrick’s cheeks lit up like a bonfire, but he found himself moving to comply with Nash’s wishes. He kicked off his boots then his jeans—he’d pick them up later—and bent, albeit awkwardly, over the arm of the couch. He hid his face in the crook of his elbow, embarrassment and arousal fightin’ for dominance. He tried to ration with himself that Nash had seen him in plenty ofexposin’positions before, but time had a way of makin’ old feelings resurface.
Nash kicked at Patrick’s ankles 'til he shuffled into a wider stance. Nash popped Patrick, and the sharp crack of skin against skin echoed in the quiet house, makin’ him flinch more than the actual impact itself.
“God, look at that fuckin’ recoil.” Nash grabbed and massaged Patrick’s ass. “You’ve got such a nice fuckin’ ass, Baby.”
Nash spread Patrick’s ass then, of all things, spit directly on his hole. Patrick sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, mufflin’ a throaty moan as Nash ran his tongue across it. He dug his nails into Patrick’s ass, moanin’ as he continued to tease Patrick with his tongue. Patrick tried not to squirm, but the sensation of Nash’s wet, warm tongue pressin’ against him had his knees weak.
“Shit, Nash,” he moaned, spreadin’ his legs further apart. “I ain’t gonna last long with you touchin’ me like this.”
