“If you don’t blow your brains out first, you wind up sitting on the front porch, old and gray, wondering how life passed you by.”
Texas grasped Killy’s jaw, forcing him face to face. A too-perceptive stare bored into Killy, penetrating down to his soul. “Must suck being you.”
“It does”remained unspoken.
Tex put his lips within a hair’s breadth from Killy’s and froze.
Killy could almost taste the beer on the man’s breath. His cock ached at the thought. Mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue. He raised his chin. Oh, hell. Tex ducked his head. Damn!
No. Killy didn’t want a kiss! And especially not from a man he’d fuck today and forget tomorrow. Time to stop thinking.
Tex’s neck made an inviting target, muscles working when he swallowed. Oh yeah. Killy scraped his teeth over the skin above Tex’s collar. Sweat and man and slight traces of cologne.
Too fucking many clothes. Killian backed away long enough for Tex to peel out of his shirt, then returned to latch his mouth onto one beaded nipple. He worked the bud to full hardness while popping open the button and unzipping Tex’s jeans with moves he’d practiced since his teens.
Clothes off!
He reached his hand inside to cup an impressive erection. Oh, hell yeah. With one smooth move he pulled Tex’s jeans and boxers down, then sank to his knees to take hard flesh into his mouth.
Salty precum hit his tongue. Mouth full of hard cock. He grabbed two handfuls of nicely rounded ass for leverage and took the man all the way in.
Tex stumbled and would have fallen if not for the wall against his back and Killy’s grip. “Don’t… don’t you think we should take this to the bedroom?” Tex gasped out.
Not really. Here worked just fine. Or on the floor. Or even in the fucking yard. But if Tex wanted the bed… Killy pulled off. “Lead on.”
Tex pulled up his jeans enough to shuffle into the next room.
The bedroom matched the rest of the trailer, with faded wallboard and worn brown carpet. An antique iron bed sat against one wall, covered by a patchwork quilt with cotton leaking from ripped seams, folded back to reveal plain white sheets.
A firm tug on Killy’s shirt pulled it from his jeans, and Texas worked a hand, cool against heated flesh, underneath the fabric to caress Killy’s bare skin. He slipped the shirt over Killy’s head and dropped it on the floor. With the faintest of touches, he traced Killy’s abs, creeping steadily lower, igniting a fuse to burn straight to Killy’s straining erection.
Tex dipped his fingertips beneath Killy’s waistband, to gently stroke the head of his cock.
Killy batted Tex’s hand away. Oh hell no. In the bedroom,hecalled the shots, the better to keep his casual fucks casual. Tex’s will, what he wanted, what he liked, how he treated a man in bed, was too much information. There could be no tender kisses or reverent caresses to dwell on later. Just the slick-slide, skin-slapping-skin of two men whose time together had a fast-approaching expiration date.
Killy toed off his boots and stripped. His clothes lay where they fell. He shoved Tex backward onto the bed to jerk his shoes, jeans, and boxers off.
Texas scanned his torso, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the tattoo on his biceps, “Trickster” with a likeness of the band’s first album cover. The tat still didn’t prove anything. From the first time Killy showed his piece onstage, fans flocked to tattoo parlors across the country and posted images on social media. He’d seen some of them again on a “good art gone bad” website.
But… he didn’t have anything to prove. He’d told the truth about who he was. Tex didn’t believe, didn’t care, or chose to humor the crazy person. Whatever the man’s way of thinking, a hard fucking lay in his immediate future.
Tex leaned up and ran a trembling hand over the ropey scar that traveled beneath Killy’s Adam’s apple, across his chest, and down his belly, stopping shy of his navel. Never saying a word, he bent and kissed the ragged reminder of near-death, tracing the jagged line with a hot tongue. One inch higher would have made an honest man of the guy who’d written Killy’s obituary.
Tex slipped from the bed and dropped to his knees. A heavythumpechoed throughout the trailer. He ran his mouth from Killy’s balls to cock tip, taking his time. The Stetson landed on the floor beside him.
Base to tip, base to tip, gentle tongue laps bathed Killy’s flesh. Bucking his hips, Killian urged Tex to stop teasing and get down to business. A chuckling laugh vibrated against his belly. Then, opening wide, Tex downed Killy’s length in a smooth, wet glide of pure bliss.
With his hands braced on Tex’s shoulders, Killy squinted his eyes tightly against the pleasure coursing through him in great, pulsing waves. Damn, but the guy sucked cock as well as he played bass.
Tex pulled off with a wet-soundingpopand rose gracefully to his feet.
One push against his chest had Tex sprawled on the sheets again. Killy followed him down. Damned if the hot hunk of cowboy stretched beneath him didn’t look good. Starting at the neck and working down Tex’s torso put Killy’s mouth right where he wanted. Finally, after what seemed a small eternity of teasing little licks, Killy opened his mouth and slid all the way down the rigid perfection he’d first seen on the Internet.
Tex bucked, hips thrusting, spurring Killy on. Tightening his lips and humming low in his throat sent vibration through Tex’s cock; a drop of salty pre-cum rewarded the effort.
Tex moved his fingers from Killy’s hair to the mattress, digging in. His body bowed. Oh yes. He was close, real close. Ah, what a perfect cock to lick, but Killy wanted more than just Tex’s cum in his mouth. He sat back, spectator to Tex’s battle with his libido. Tex won by a narrow margin, judging by the dazed, “Wha…?”
He climbed up Tex, who arched eagerly, his thick, uncut cock sliding against Killy’s longer, slimmer one. Settling between Tex’s legs, their full, heavy sacks connected while Killy ground their erections together.
