19. Easton

Chapter 19

Easton

Wade! Of all people to show up. Why couldn't Henley have stayed his ass at the camper until Wade returned?

Easton stared at his cards and tried not to frown. His highest card was a nine of diamonds and not a single spade in sight. No way he wasn't drowning—in more ways than one. Royal kept diverting his eyes to avoid looking at him. Easton couldn't blame him, though. He had said things to make the situation weird. But dammit, couldn't he say these things to Royal, his best friend? Perhaps some lines were meant to be crossed.

"Board," he bid as if he had a choice. He'd have to be strategic and try to win small, unexpected hands.

Whatever had made him think going all philosophical and confessing his feelings to Royal was a good idea? Well, besides the fact that Royal was a confidant and Easton thought he could say anything to him. No. He'd hoped he could. Deep down he knew it likely would go the way it was currently leaning. He had no choice but to accept it. He'd opened his mouth and set it all in motion. He couldn't wave a magic wand and undo it. The truth setting one free was utter bullshit. The truth had assigned possibly a death sentence to his longest and dearest friendship. His head spun, whipping any coherency from his thoughts. The muscles in his stomach wadded like boiled uncleaned chitterlings, and he thought he might puke. He felt himself smothering as if a pillow was crushed against his face, stealing his breath and weighing down his lungs. He placed a card on the table and promptly lost the hand. No, not smothering. He was drowning. Blub, blub, blub.

* * *

Easton had had to bid blind three consecutive times to get back into the game. But not only had he risen from the ashes of a negative score, he'd somehow managed to win. All it had taken was one hand to turn things around in his favor—proof that comebacks and redemptions were possible. Of course, he already knew that, but tonight, it seemed to take on a different life. He enjoyed ending his nights on a high note—winning at cards, Wade sulking from losing as he returned to his camper, kissing Royal.

Sliding beneath the sheet, he glanced at the digital clock on the shelf that Marcel refused to declutter. Some days, it ran fast, and other days slow. Rarely was it correct. Easton suspected today was a slow day because that was how it felt—laborious and fucking weird. The odd part was, he couldn't decide which he wanted—for the day to be over and done so he could forget about what happened or for time to stand still and allow him to remain fresh in the moment of having the taste of Royal's lips on his. The beer hadn't washed it away, and he hadn't brushed his teeth before crawling into bed. He doubted one night of skipping oral hygiene would lead to a mouthful of cavities, but if it did, so be it. It was worth it.

He secured the window curtain shut, adjusted the wall reading light, and tugged on the privacy curtain as he did every night he slept in the RV. However, the privacy curtain had been fickle the past week, getting stuck on the rod at the halfway point. Sighing, Easton was in no mood to fiddle with it and allowed it to remain open. On most nights, whether it was open or closed was irrelevant once the lights were out. It was so dark that it was a struggle to see two steps ahead. But every now and then, he needed to take care of personal business and appreciated the added concealment.

Although he'd traveled with the same companions for years and they all knew what each one of them got up to, he didn't fancy them—especially his uncle—knowing when he was watching porn or jerking off—even if he'd done both with Royal in the past. Tonight, he would need to do some relieving . He'd been rocking a semi for the past twenty minutes, and no way would he be able to sleep with that going on. He'd tried conjuring some mundane mood-killing images to suppress his horniness, and it would work for a few minutes before he'd sprung back to life. But the surefire way to put it to rest was to T.C.O.B.

To prepare, he fished out a box of tissues and tube of lube from the under-bed storage, tucked the contraband under his pillow, and shimmied out of his boxers to avoid rustling about once Royal had situated himself in the top bunk. It was difficult enough to rub one out undetected without rummaging to gather supplies in the dark.

Royal exited the bathroom and stood at the foot of Easton's bed beside the ladder for the upper bunk.

" T'es bien? "

" Oui. "

"You don't look okay. You look troubled."

"I'm fine, Roy. Just thinking about home."

"What about it?"

"I'm trying to remember why I decided to move."

"You said you were tired of the bayou stench."

"Lots of smells go into making that stench."

Royal's brow bunched. " Quoi? "

"It's more than the water. It's the trees, foliage, and marsh. The mud and animals. Decay and rot. Animal excrement."

"Okay, you could have stopped at foliage."

"It's true, and you know it. There's a lot of death in those bayous—creatures, plants, fish…."

"A lot of life there too." Royal leaned against the bedpost. "I don't know where you're going with all of this?—"

"We became blood brothers on one of the banks. Remember?"

Smiling, Royal nodded. "How could I forget? You cried like a baby."

"You nearly severed my finger."

" Pish! A scratch."

"A scratch that required six stitches."

Royal's smile widened. "You always focus on the technicalities."

"If I did that, I would have snitched on you. Instead, I convinced everyone that I got a fishhook stuck and ripped it out. Had to get a tetanus shot, and that shit burned." He rubbed the scar of said incident. "I never told anyone, Royal. There are some things only between us."

Royal eased onto the mattress, his lower back against Easton's legs, and he took Easton's hand in his. " Oui, " he agreed, rubbing the faded injury.

Easton startled at the contact.

How can a hand rough with callouses be so smooth against my skin?

For a moment, he stared at their connected hands. What comes next? He felt compelled to speak, but he couldn't conjure the words of anything to say. Something needed to be said.

Royal shifted. Or maybe it was he who had shifted. He was uncertain, but no doubt, they were closer—invading each other's personal space. Although he'd been this close to Royal before, this felt decidedly different. His body surged with energy, and he could detect something similar radiating from Royal. Did he dare take the bold initiative to kiss him again? No. Why? Because Royal leaned forward and pressed his lips to Easton's—a light graze that initiated a flame in Easton's lips, cheeks, chest, and groin. Powerful stuff. Like kryptonite infused with oxycodone—surreal yet earthy. Intoxicating.

Kee-yaw , he tastes good. He smells good. More. I need more. Aseteur!

Melting into the languid kiss, Easton's fingers found the hem of Royal's T-shirt and brushed across the warm skin before sneaking them beneath the waistband of Royal's sleep pants.

Royal jerked away, panting.

"Oh, G-God, I'm…," Easton stammered, scrambling to hoist up the sheet from where it had drifted down. Kissing was one thing. Going for the cookies was quite another. " Je suis désolé ."

Liar .

He wasn't sorry, although he probably should be. "I didn't mean?—"

Another lie.

He did mean it, and Royal called him on it.

"Bullshit." Royal clutched Easton's biceps and tugged him back.

"But I?—"

Royal heaved Easton forward and crushed their mouths together. Their tongues greedily roved in demanding exploration. Royal's stubble scratched against Easton's skin as he skimmed his mouth down to his Adam's apple, tattooed clavicle, and dark nipple.

A strangled gurgle tore from Easton's throat.

"You can't take it back," Royal growled, yanking the twisted sheet from between them, revealing Easton's gleaming cock. "Look how hard you are." Rubbing Easton's full length, Royal curled his grip over the crown. "How long you've made me wait for this."

"Made you wait?"

"Stop talking. All those years of teasing."

"I've never?—"

"Fine," Royal snapped, hooking his thumbs in the band of his PJs and guiding them down below his deep V. He placed his knees on either side of Easton's legs and rocked back onto his heels. Lightly tugging a fistful of Easton's hair, Royal hauled Easton up from a lying position into a seated one and then pushed down his head. "I said to stop talking," he repeated.

Oh!

Easton received the message and bent forward to Royal's crotch where his erection bobbed within a nest of neatly trimmed dark hair, flush against his abdomen and almost reaching his navel. He drank in the splendor of Royal's mostly nude body.

Why aren't I hesitating? I should be hesitating.

Because this is what you want? This is Royal, and he's asking. No, telling. He wants this.

Massaging the shining head in circles with his fingers, Easton then flicked his tongue across the top, lapping up the trickle of clear fluid leaking from the slit. Royal's response sounded half panicked, and Easton smirked.

That's what you get for being such a Dom.

Before he overanalyzed the situation, Easton drew the rigid shaft fully into his mouth and sucked firmly but slowly. He allowed himself to sink into enjoying the act and all the throaty sounds and grunts Royal emitted.

"That's so good," Royal cooed, winding his fist tighter in Easton's hair. "You've done this before?"

Easton pulled off with a pop and looked up, his eyes wide at the jealousy in Royal's voice. "No. Don't you think I would have told you?"

Royal tilted his head in consideration. " Je ne sais pas . You've never mentioned wanting to kiss me."

"And how was I supposed to say that to my best friend?"

"Because I am your best friend, and you should be able to say anything to me."

True .

Easton nodded. Royal knew every insignificant detail about him, such as his secret love of comic books and phobia of worms. Technically, it wouldn't classify as a DSM definition of a phobia, but they weirded him out all the same.

"I'm sorry."

Royal's lips curled into a lustful smile. "That's okay. You're about to make it up to me." He pushed at Easton's head, and Easton resumed his position, allowing Royal to bury himself in his mouth.

Even if Easton didn't want to do this—which he did—his body involuntarily moved. He wasn't certain what to do and had no developed plan, no strategic technique. He did, however, know what he'd seen on videos—who said cable TV wasn't educational?—and he knew what he liked done to him by a woman. Before climbing on his first bull, he'd observed other riders and imitated them when it had been his turn. That had worked out rather well, and he had nothing to lose now by using that same method of imitation. He considered how this could be messy and potentially embarrassing, but his brain had already decided there was no retreating.

While cupping Royal's balls in one hand and fisting the shaft in the other, Easton wound his tongue around the head in drawn-out spirals. He paid special attention to licking the delicate underside before hollowing his cheeks out for suction. Repeatedly, he moved up and down, trailing his tongue along the dorsal vein and pulling more firmly each time but never coming off the crown until Royal hissed and pushed him away again.

"Wait!"

At first, Easton thought that in his clumsiness, he'd hurt him. However, the desperate gleam in Royal's eyes told another story.

"I need a minute," Royal managed to grit out with a ragged breath.

Easton didn't want to wait, but he did because, above all else, he wanted to satisfy Royal. By satisfying Royal, he'd ultimately be gratifying himself. He licked his lips.

Royal grinned. "You like sucking my cock, then?"

"Very much." Easton's cheeks reddened at the confession.

"And you're sure you've never done this?"

" Quoi? " Easton's eyes widened with disbelief. Was Royal accusing him of something? "No, I haven't. I'm sure I would remember if I had."

Extending his hand, Royal stroked Easton's jaw and ran his thumb across his bottom lip. "It's only because you're incredibly good at it. If you're sucking me off this good now, I can't wait to see what you do after you've had some practice."

Practice? Wait.

That sounded as if Royal intended for them to do this again. Assuredly, Easton had no problem with that, but boy, what a bold assumption.

Royal's hand traced down Easton's chin to his throat, chest, and abdomen and rested on his hipbone. "Let's get you into this game, shall we?"

Oh, we certainly shall .

Easton could only nod as Royal took hold of him and squeezed his eager dick. He had to be mindful, though, because one taut jerk and he was a goner. It would be over before he began. But then again, that would be okay because Royal had all but promised him a next time, hadn't he?

Royal straightened from his slouched-shoulder Hero Pose straddling Easton's legs and pulled Easton from his forward seated position onto his knees so they were chest to chest.

"This," Royal whispered, "I hope you enjoy too." He spit in his hand.

"Wait." Reaching beneath the pillow, Easton retrieved the bottle of lube, opened it, and sheathed their cocks with a generous dollop.

"I see you had plans." Royal smirked, slinking his arms behind Easton's back and clutching his shoulders. Their lower bodies aligned so that their leaking shafts glided against each other. He pressed forward and up, grinding against him, moving his hips in a quickening rhythm. With each gyration, more beads of precum smeared down their lengths. The movement furiously built friction.

Easton was caught off guard when his breath suddenly hitched, and it felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. He had no control over his body as it stiffened and convulsed with pleasure. There was no preventing the climax that overtook him, and sparks flew behind his eyelids. A sizzling rapture mounted in his stomach and pinged down into each of his toes. His orgasm exploded out of him, the first spurt hitting Royal's chin and the second his pec. Easton lost count of how many and where they landed after that.

"Holy fuckatoids," Easton puffed, gazing up at Royal through dilated pupils. "I didn't mean to go so soon, but… I didn't even get to?—"

"Shh!" Royal placed his index finger over Easton's lips as he eased him back onto the mattress. "When a bull hits the gate coming out the chute, the rider has an option for a re-ride. We have all night to do whatever we want."

The promise and lust in Royal's eyes caused Easton to squirm. Never in Easton's life had he experienced passion as desperately intense as this, and like a greedy child, he licked his lips, eager for more.

I'm your huckleberry. Giddy up!