8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“I love this house. It’s so beautiful,” he said as he sat in the chair by the window. “And this view!”

“It’s pretty, that’s for sure.”

Rowan glanced over at him and could easily read his face. “I’m just wondering how New Mexico looks in the sunset. If I go there, is there a window I can sit by and watch it?”

Sig walked slowly over to him and grabbed his hand to pull Rowan up and into his arms. “You saw right through me.”

“Just because I love it here doesn’t mean I can’t love other places as much.”

“A little soon to be talking about all that.”

Rowan’s head was back so he could fully stare into the taller man’s beautiful hazel eyes. Those eyes that he’d recognized immediately. “Maybe, but…it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it, having something…in the future.”

“Yeah?”

The worry line between his brow was showing, and it told Rowan so much. It was being a hooker that had made him take notice of even the smallest things on a man’s face. Many times, anger showed in that line between the eyebrows, throwing up a red flag to back off and get to safety.

The line and Sig’s eyes told a completely different tale. Caution, fear, need, all of them were there, making Rowan want to hold him and let Sig know that he didn’t want to hurt the man.

“Yeah. Unless we figure out this week that we’re totally incompatible with each other, I think my next trip might just be to this little ranch in New Mexico I’ve been told about.”

“I can’t promise VIP-level comfort, but I’ll do my best.”

Rowan had fantasies about it. Being in that red and orange desert, cactus flowers and wild horses running across the horizon. “I have a feeling I’ll love it.”

“I have a feeling it would love you.”

Holding him, there in that beautiful place, Rowan thought that he could love being anywhere with Sig. The big, strong man with eyes that told so many stories, his lips that seemed afraid to smile…

Sig kissed him tenderly, pulling him a little tighter, and in that embrace, Rowan thought he felt a little bit of possessiveness. Not some crazy jealous guy who would smack him around for looking at other men, but someone he wanted to claim and keep, protect, and cherish.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll go for a hike.”

“A hike? In this?”

Sig laughed and said, “Yeah. Jace said that the store has some great thermal clothing. We can get some things and just explore a little. What do you say?”

He thought they’d likely freeze to death, but anywhere Sig went, Rowan was fine with following. “Okay. But, what about the rest of today? It is Christmas, after all.”

“What do you want to do?”

“How about I make us a romantic dinner, and we’ll sit in front of this fireplace and spend a romantic evening?”

Sig kissed him again and whispered, “I think that sounds like the perfect Christmas day.”

When Jace said the kitchen was stocked, he wasn’t kidding. They’d put juices, sodas, lunch meats, cheeses, fresh vegetables and more in the fridge, then in the freezer was every kind of meat he could imagine.

Knowing Sig wanted to make the steaks one night, he pulled out some chicken and set it in the microwave to defrost. When Sig came in to grab a soda, Rowan took it from him and chased him out of the kitchen.

“I’ll get you a glass and some ice. Let me work some magic.”

“Yes, sir,” Sig said with a laugh. “You gonna spoil me?”

“I’d love to spoil you.”

“Well, I’m not used to that, but I’ll give it a try.”

That was a shame. A man like Sig should be spoiled. As soon as the stores in town were open, Rowan planned to spoil him plenty, but not just with things. He wanted to lavish affection on him, let him feel like he was a king.

Rowan’s king.

He brought the glass to Sig, who was already working on the fire. “This fireplace is four times the size of the ones in the cabins.”

“I love this rug. We’ll throw down all the pillows from the couches and enjoy our evening here. What do you think?”

“I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

His smile was confident but shy, too. Rowan had no idea how he did that. “And?”

“That’s fine with me.”

Rowan ran a hand over his hair and purred, “Don’t stoke it too hot. I plan to make it hot enough in here for you.”

“Fucking tease.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Rowan went back into the kitchen and pulled out some of the vegetables and looked through the cabinets until he found a box of great pasta.

As he rubbed his hands together, he thought of his grandmother, and how she said once that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Well, he thought, he’d better be good.

As he started the food, Sig came into the kitchen, led by his nose. “Damn, that smells great.”

“It’s not steak, but I think it will be okay.”

“I don’t live on steak alone, I promise. You need some help?”

Rowan turned to flirt. “Yes. I’d like you to relax and let me take care of you for the evening. I’m a little out of practice, but I will give it my best shot.”

“You’re surely turning my head, Rowan.”

“It’s kind of my intent, Sigmund.”

Sig moved close to him, pinching his chin tenderly as he whispered, “I like the way you say that. Sigmund.”

“It’s not a common name. It fits you. You’re not a common man.”

“You’re truly making me crazy about you.”

“Then it’s working,” he teased with a little leg kick.

That made the guy laugh, and his deep, resonating laughter was sexier than just about anything he’d ever heard. Or it was possible he was just crushing so hard on the guy that anything he did was sexy.

“Go. Relax.”

“Yes, dear,” he said, chuckling as he turned to leave the kitchen. Rowan could watch him as he sat on the sofa and spread his thick arms over the back, so he could see the fire and the big windows on either side of it. The perfect spot to sit on a white Christmas.

So, the meal wasn’t turkey with all the trimmings, but it was coming along nicely. He tasted the sauce, and it only needed a little more salt. Then he placed the pasta in the water and got it cooking while he made the salad.

There was a nice loaf of French bread in the fridge, and he made garlic bread, slathering on the minced garlic and tons of butter that he’d have to work out for weeks before setting it in the preheated oven.

While he cooked, it was special to know he was cooking for someone other than himself. Having someone to share a meal with might not seem like much to some people, but for him, it was a lot.

A nice home cooked meal in the middle of a gorgeous location, he couldn’t wish for more for Christmas day.

They ate at the table, talking more and flirting, and Sig was impressed by the meal. When it was over, and the kitchen was cleaned, they went outside to walk around the house, the sun warming them as they walked hand in hand.

A more romantic time Rowan couldn’t remember having. Sig's quiet voice, his steady care for Rowan’s happiness, the location, everything made that Christmas day memorable.

But what topped it was their evening. Rowan brought pillows down from the beds upstairs and grabbed the throw pillows from the sofas to spread around the rug. Sig moved the couches and table back enough that they had all the room they could need to lay together and watch the fire.

With Rowan in front, and Sig spooning him from behind, they lay in silence for a long time, Sig holding him. Rowan thought later that was the moment he first fell in love with the man.

To be able to be together and not have to talk or even move, was a test that most men failed when they first tried to be together. Any couple could make small talk, could fuck, but to just be together without words or movement was something special.

The night didn’t end there, however. After an hour of simply lying together, Rowan turned to face Sig, watching how the fire danced in his eyes and across his cheeks. His auburn hair was ablaze with the light of the flames, and Rowan was overcome with need of the man.

It started with tender kisses, Sig holding Rowan’s face, the caress of his callused thumb loving and gentle as his lips barely brushed Rowan’s.

Rowan had a thought, and maybe it wasn’t the time, but it felt like it was right. He reached behind him, pulled the hundred-dollar bill from his back pocket, moved it to Sig, and slipped it into his front pocket.

“What’s that?” Sig asked while he kissed the tip of Rowan’s nose.

“Your money. The tip. I want a lot from you, but none of it is money.”

Sig stared into his eyes, and Rowan saw the tears welling. “You’re something else, Rowan.”

“I just want you.”

A palm was laid on his cheek, the big hand covering the entire side of his head. As Rowan shadowed his face, the fire no longer danced in Sig’s eyes, but they were still alight from within.

Rowan knew that look from deep within him. Sig was falling in love with him.

Sure, it was fast, and they might be reckless with their hearts. They lived far from one another; their lives were very different. As Sig’s lips pressed to Rowan’s, all those worries washed away from Rowan on a sea that was as calm and peaceful as he’d ever known.

A sea glistening brightly in the light of a moon that hung over the sky so hugely that he felt it inside him. Rowan was pushed tenderly onto his back, Sig hanging over him, smiling wistfully. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful in my entire life.”

“Before you said it, I would have never thought that. But you make me believe it, how you look at me.”

“Good. If I do nothing else in life, I can die happy knowing I made you know how beautiful you are.”

Rowan pulled him down after laying his hand over the back of Sig’s neck, kissing him with a passion he didn’t know he had. All those nights with nameless men, seeking money, security, and purpose all faded and no longer took up his mind.

Sig…he was there, looming over the rest of his life like he’d blocked the ugliness from every piece of Rowan’s previous life. Rowan gave himself over to that as much as he gave himself to Sig.

Their kissing intensified, and Sig’s hand kept hold of his hip, holding him down, keeping him still as Rowan tried to move, to turn Sig over so he could control the kissing. He found out early on that Sig wouldn’t be controlled.

Their cocks rubbed on one another through their clothes, the heat made the fireplace inconsequential. Rowan’s fingertips dipped into the thick muscles of Sig’s back; his teeth found all the most sensitive places on Sig’s throat.

Then Sig moved to stand, and Rowan whimpered pitifully. “Where are you going?”

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to stop before we’re naked, and I have some things to grab.”

“Oh. Right. Carry on,” he said, laughing breathlessly.

Rowan turned back to the fire, staring into the flames, and again, his cheeks ached with cramping as he just couldn’t stop smiling.

It felt like a prize at the end of a very long race that he’d gone through the terrible obstacle course and come out free and filled with something foreign. Love? Hope? Whatever it was, it was good.

Sig was back quickly, tossing the lube and box of condoms on the rug near them, then moved down himself, lying on his side next to Rowan. “You’re sure you want to…you know?”

“Make love? Fuck?”

“Oh, I’d love to fuck you, Rowan, but when I fuck a man, I get mighty rough. For this time, there’s no need for a safeword.”

That was a lot to take in, and every word made Rowan squirm with need for the man. “Damn. You’re making love to me, right? If not, well, I will need some lotion and privacy.”

“Not much could stop me at this point, babe.”

Rowan laughed, then kissed him, rolling over until their bodies pressed tightly together.

The condoms and lube were forgotten while they made out on the rug, rolling around, smiling in their kissing, touching each other’s bodies. Finally, Sig started to take off Rowan’s clothes, kissing over his chest once his shirt was off, using the pad of his forefinger to caress his nipple while he kissed a line up Rowan’s throat.

That woolly beard tickled him, and he wriggled until Sig’s mouth was on his, laughing with him. “Sorry. I guess I need a trim.”

“Don’t you dare! You, in this place, looking all mountain man? It’s sexy.”

“Anything to make you happy.”

Rowan had heard the prettiest words from almost any man he’d ever met, but when Sig said them, he believed every syllable. Na?ve, maybe, silly romantic wishing, possibly, but he didn’t think so. Sig wasn’t the type of man to make empty promises or say empty compliments.

Once Sig disposed of Rowan’s pants by throwing them over his shoulder, he lay there, hoping he looked good for his guy, Sig’s eyes roaming over every inch of him.

“Do I pass inspection?”

“Pass? You’ve surpassed. You’re a god.”

It wasn’t long before Rowan finally got to see all of Sig, his body, covered in a thick auburn fur, his beautiful cock protruding out from a nice, glorious bush of the same.

He didn’t have tattoos, but he had some scars, one across his belly. Rowan’s finger traced it. “What happened?”

“Got thrown from a rowdy stallion, trying to tame him. I learned my lesson. Don’t try to tame the wild ones,” he growled, moving to kiss him roughly. “I like ‘em wild.”

When Sig was finally pushing inside him after Rowan placed the condom on his glorious, veiny cock, Rowan sucked in a lungful of air and hung onto Sig while he got adjusted to the intense intrusion.

“Damn, you’re mighty thick, cowboy.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, in a way that told Rowan Sig had no plans of saying goodbye forever once they left the ranch.

Clinging to him, Rowan agreed with the sentiment by his whimpering as they kissed, and Sig pushed inside him a little deeper.

Suddenly, New Mexico became a dream he’d never thought he’d have, and it was one that he hoped would truly be attained…