Chapter 12

TWELVE

SILAS

I was already half-hard from imagining Way's cowboy-lean body moving through ranch chores when the object of my fantasy appeared outside the shower windows. Instead of looking at me with a heated, seductive stare, however, he was gawping at me with comical bug eyes and an open mouth.

I had to bite back a laugh.

As soon as I lifted my hand in acknowledgment, he snapped his head to the side and raced out of my view like his ass was on fire. Unfortunately, I was no longer able to hold in the laugh, and it bellowed out of me, made stronger and harder to control as the events of the entire day tumbled through my memory.

If I'd tried telling this story at a cocktail party back in the city, no one would believe me.

The bathroom door opened a crack. "Are you laughing at me? Because that's rude as hell."

His annoyed tone only made me laugh harder. "You have to admit this situation is funny," I called through the door. The water pressure was stellar, and I wasn't quite ready to end the shower, even though I was excited to spar with him face-to-face.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one standing smack in the center of a category-five whirlwind of town gossip."

I was pretty sure I was. But because I hated hearing him upset and wanted him distracted, I told a little white lie. "Can you please open the door? I can't hear you."

"Never mind."

I raised my voice as if I was on a busy aircraft carrier. "Sorry, what was that?"

The door lurched open, and my angry cowboy scowled at me. "I said never…" His eyes roamed over my body like a very diligent inspector as he stopped to swallow. "Mind."

Even when angry, the man was irresistible. Hell, he was probably more irresistible because he was angry.

Way was also dressed only in a filthy white tank soaked in sweat over low-slung jeans. Damp tendrils of hair stuck to his face, and a sweaty indent from his hat band marred his thick blond hair.

"You're dirty," I said, voice lower than I'd intended.

He blinked. "Stop pretending you can read my mind. You have no idea what I was thinking!"

I pointed at him, biting back another laugh. "I didn't mean your thoughts, cowboy. I meant your clothes. Your face. Your… everything."

"Oh." His face turned red.

Realization dawned. "Why, Mayor Fletcher, were you thinking dirty thoughts? You naughty boy."

He lifted his chin, deliberately snapping his eyes up from where they'd settled uncomfortably on my very interested cock. "You wish."

I did wish. But more than anything, I wished to touch his stubborn-ass chin, to hold it firmly while I taught his sensual mouth a lesson.

"Get naked," I said, lowering my voice.

Way's eyes stayed locked on mine. "You seem like the kind of guy who's used to getting his way."

I nodded slowly. "I am."

He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. "I don't take well to being bossed around."

For some reason, I felt this to be true. But I also felt deep down to my bones he'd take well to being bossed around by me … at least when it came to this.

I reached down to stroke my cock as slowly as I could. "Take off your clothes, cowboy."

Way's eyes flicked down to my hand and back up. There was no mistaking the quicker rise and fall of his chest, but otherwise, he didn't move. "And if I do what you say… what do I get?"

I barked out a laugh. "Happy?"

He couldn't hold back a grin. "What else?"

I continued stroking. It felt good, but not nearly as good as rubbing off against Way's wet body would. "What exactly are you fishing for here, Waylon?"

Whatever it was, I was probably turned on enough to do it.

Way swallowed again. "I want you to tell me about yourself."

That wasn't what I'd been expecting. "What do you mean?"

He unfolded his arms and shrugged. "We need to fool people into believing this is real. I want us to get to know each other so we don't look like idiots the first time someone asks one of us something the other should know."

I crooked my finger at him. "Great. Let's start with the noises you make when you come."

Way froze, making me wonder if I'd gone too far too soon. Then, his jaw firmed. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"Are you suggesting I can't make you come? Would you like to place a bet on it, sweetheart?"

His hands returned to the hem of his shirt, lifting up the sweaty, dirty tank like my very own Magic Mike exhibition. My concern quickly became more about stopping myself from coming too soon than my ability to make him come at all.

"You seem to like the show," Way said, dropping the tank and leaning over to reach for his socks. His eyes landed on my cock.

I needed a distraction. Something nonsexual. "What made you think you had to bargain for that?"

He eyed me sideways. "You don't seem like the kind of guy itching to share personal information, no offense."

"None taken. And you're right."

The cut muscles of his chest and arms caught in the light. My eyes were riveted.

"Why is that?" Way asked.

The silver rectangular buckle fell heavily away as he reached for the button on his jeans. I had a hard time concentrating on his question.

"Uh… because I don't trust easily?" I sucked in a breath. I hadn't exactly meant to say that. "More like… people shouldn't trust easily."

Way's abs popped as he leaned over to shuck down his jeans and boxer briefs all in one go. His dick was ruddy and full but flagging a bit. I assumed he was nervous. It seemed likely he'd never gotten naked like this with another man. I was grateful he wasn't more hesitant.

"Your body is fucking incredible," I said in a low voice. "Get in here. Please."

He moved into the glass-enclosed shower but not into my personal space. The poor guy was definitely uneasy.

"I'm not going to do anything you don't want, alright?" I said, moving forward carefully and holding out my hand to him. "Just get under the water to start."

He gave me his hand so I could pull him under the spray. Multiple nozzles shot water from various directions, and it was thankfully just as hot as when I'd started.

"I'm not scared of you, Silas," he said, sounding a little annoyed. "Just because I haven't done things with a guy before doesn't mean I'm freaking out."

I stepped closer to him. "Good. Then I'm going to assume you'll stop me if you need to."

He rolled his eyes at me, but his lips turned up in a grin. "I don't need a safe word. Just fucking kiss me already, will you?"

My mouth was on his before he got the whole sentence out. He grabbed my head and moved close enough for our dicks to brush against each other.

We both let out a groan and pressed even closer. Hot water pounded down on our backs and shoulders as the golden sun dropped behind the mountain peaks, shooting pinks and oranges across the sky. I kissed that cowboy for so long I lost track of where I was, who I was.

All I wanted was his mouth on mine, my hands on his strong body, and the deep, masculine sounds of a partner in need. After a while, I dropped down to my knees and glanced up at him in question. His eyes were hot on mine, his lips deep red and wet, and his hair in a wet tangle from my possessing hands. He gave me a slight nod, and that was all I needed to begin toying with him. Teasing and licking and sucking until his fingers gripped my hair and his voice shouted angrily into the confined space.

"Make me come, dammit."

I pulled off and caressed his balls, staring up at him with a thundering heart and most likely a giddy expression. "You wish," I said, cockily repeating his words from earlier.

His gaze turned molten before his grip in my hair got tighter and yanked my head forward into his hard cock. The bossy move was so unexpected, so fucking hot, I couldn't help but suck him down again. I grabbed his ass and yanked him closer, giving him permission to fuck my face.

As Way's hands held the back of my head and his dick choked me, I wondered exactly where my nervous cowboy had gone.

The feel of his cock in my throat, his fingers in my hair, and his tight ass in my hands set me off, and I came a few moments after the first hit of his salty release registered.

I glanced up at him, desperate to see his face as he came. He was fucking glorious. Head thrown back, tendons in stark relief on his neck, and water dripping down his skin. His chest heaved, nipples tight and rosy against his golden skin. I ran a hand up his abs to tweak one of them.

He nearly doubled over in surprise. "Shit, stop," he said with a gasping laugh. "Too sensitive."

I grabbed one of his hands to help stand up since my knees were sore and half-numb from the hard tile. "You ticklish?"

Way stepped closer to me and pressed his face into the side of my neck. My arms wrapped around him automatically, and I held him, surprised by his move.

"Not ticklish," he admitted into my skin. "Just overwhelmed."

I ran my hands up and down his broad back before leaning over to reach for the soap. I lathered up my hands and continued washing his back. "Overwhelmed good or overwhelmed unsure?"

He pulled back and gazed at me. His expression was relaxed rather than embarrassed or anxious. I let out a breath.

"Good," he said before leaning in to kiss me. "Very good."

We kissed lazily for a little while longer while I continued to soap him up. It had been a long time since I'd shared a shower with a man. The last time would have been with Justin, and he and I had been broken up for a long fucking while.

But even before I'd found out just how much of an asshole my ex was, showers with him had never been relaxed or fun. He'd been—still was, as far as I knew—too obsessed with work, with competition, with making a name for himself, which meant our showers had been quick and utilitarian, even if they'd included a shared orgasm. That should have been a red flag from the very beginning.

"You must have unlimited hot water," I said, nudging Way under the spray more fully so he could rinse off.

"Yeah. Tankless heater. One of my splurges. Hate to admit it, but I'm not an environmentalist when it comes to a long, hot shower on a cold winter night. Sometimes it's the only way I can warm up."

We slid into silence as each of us finished washing. When we finally turned off the water, I felt like a giant prune, but I had zero regrets.

Way handed me a towel and reached for another for himself. We dried ourselves before Way wandered out of the bathroom, presumably in search of clean clothes. I threw on the joggers and tee I'd brought inside. When I stepped out into the main room, my eyes went straight to the shirtless cowboy wearing nothing but an old pair of cotton pajama bottoms low on his hips.

He was still rubbing water out of his hair with a towel in one hand while grabbing a pizza out of the fridge with another. My hands itched to touch him again—which was crazy because even the briefest thought of Justin was usually enough to stamp out any flicker of desire I might feel—but I resisted. Way and I acting like we were in a relationship in front of the town was one thing; acting like it when there was no one to fool but ourselves was another.

We didn't need things to get more complicated than they already were.

"Need help?" I offered, hoping like hell I didn't sound as awkward as I suddenly felt.

"Nah. But you can grab the beer or whatever you want to drink."

I moved beside him as he reached over to turn on the oven. Soft guitar music played from a speaker on the kitchen windowsill, and it took me a minute to recognize it. "Old country classics?" I teased.

Way reached over to turn up the volume. "Can't go wrong with Randy Travis. That voice will hit you in the gut."

I looked closer at the speaker. "Is that a radio ?"

His relaxed laughter relaxed me, too. Way had been stressed all day, and it was a relief to see him happy.

"You know I don't get the internet out here, so my options are limited."

I pulled two cans of beer out of the fridge and popped one open before handing it to him. "You could download stuff in town and then play it from your phone."

He took a deep swallow of beer and grinned at me. "I could. But then I would have missed seeing your reaction. Besides, we listened to this station growing up, and it's a habit at this point."

I leaned against the counter and sipped my beer while he unwrapped the pizza. "Do you listen to any other kind of music besides country?"

He flicked his eyes at me. "We starting the get-to-know-you game already?"

I shrugged. "That was the deal, wasn't it?"

"I have a playlist of dirty hip-hop," he admitted, like it was the most shameful secret ever.

I gasped. "You listen to bad words , Mayor Fletcher?"

"My sisters would kill me. They think it's demeaning to women. But I like the beat." His cheeks were pink, maybe from embarrassment or maybe from the hot shower. Either way, he was fucking beautiful, and it was killing me not to kiss his crooked grin.

"I mostly listen to business podcasts," I admitted. "But I have season tickets to the New York Philharmonic. Don't tell anyone."

Way's grin faded. "There's a lot to unpack."

"We both have secrets?"

"Your secrets are smarty-pant secrets. Symphony orchestra secrets. Self-improvement shit. Now I feel like a dumbass."

I stepped into his personal space until our chests pressed together. "My sister was first-chair oboe in college. I got hooked after going to all of her concerts."

"Does she still play?" His eyes were on my lips.

I combed my fingers into his damp hair to tame it. "No. Camille went to med school and lost all her free time. Now, she's a busy ER doc and definitely doesn't have the time or energy for it."

Way's hands moved to my hips. "So both of you got the brains in the family."

I shook my head. "They went to her. I got the tenacity."

He pulled me closer. His eyes flicked up to mine. "I've never listened to a podcast," he whispered. Another secret.

"Shameful," I said, leaning in to brush my lips across his stubbled jaw. "Probably 'cause you're so lazy."

Thankfully, he laughed. His hands moved up under my T-shirt. "That's me. Always laying around eating junk food and watching daytime television."

"If only you worked harder," I murmured, nosing the skin below his ear. "Helped others."

His breath hitched. "If only I was tenacious like you."

"Mm." Just as I moved back to kiss him full on the lips, the oven made a loud beeping combination, startling both of us apart.

"Shit," Way said with a nervous laugh. "Pizza needs to go in."

He moved to open the oven door, but a split second before he bent over, I saw the tented front of his pajama pants.

And despite all the rationalizations I'd made just a few minutes earlier, I thanked god this tiny house only had one bed.