25. Bishop

I groaninto the kiss because Porter's mouth feels so good. It's a cool night, but not chilly enough to have to head inside. Besides, I've got Porter to warm me, and since fall has been less ornery this year, with more pleasant and dry days than not, we might as well take advantage of it.

Porter's lips move down my neck, his fingers unbuttoning my shirt as he goes. When his tongue lashes a nipple, I hiss. Of all the lovers I've had, Porter is the only one who always takes the time to touch every part of my skin he can reach, and being reminded of that is like a shock to my system.

My cock is hard as a fence post in my jeans, and it feels like it might bust through the fabric. As if he can read my thoughts, his fingers release the button and unzip the fly, bringing my shaft some needed relief. My skin is exposed to the cool air, but I don't even notice because I'm burning for him. Porter licks at my hip bones and then buries his nose in the nest of hair at my groin.

I moan a little too loudly when his hot breath wafts against my sensitive head.

"Shh," he coos. "We might not be seen by anyone, but we also don't want to be heard. Don't want a pack of wolves surrounding us either."

A laugh bursts from my lips. More like a giggle. I'm giggling like a little kid with Porter fucking Dixon. But then, I always could.

"The wolves will just stop to watch us, marveling at how good we are together."

He plants a kiss on my belly. "Now who's overly confident?"

"I am when I'm with you." I reach out to touch a lock of his hair. "You make me feel…"

"What?" he urges, his voice rumbling against my stomach.

"Like I'm alive with possibility. Like I just might get everything I've dreamed of."

Porter's eyes spring to mine with a tenderness I haven't seen in a long while. "What do you dream of?"

I shut my eyes and shake my head because it's too damned much and my heart is threatening to explode. Instead, I wiggle my hips. "You gonna suck me or what?"

I expect a smirky retort, but he engulfs my dick in his hot mouth, stealing my breath. He bobs for a while before pulling off to offer one anyway. "That shut you up right quick."

I groan. "I have no idea if you're speaking actual words. I'm too busy dying for your mouth."

"Yeah?" He licks the slit. "Let me hear you beg for it."

I rock my hips, hoping for more. "I thought you said I needed to be quiet."

"You got me there." And then he gives me exactly what I want, licking the glans, sucking me into his mouth so deep, I can feel the back of his throat.

And just as I'm about to skate along that edge, he pulls off to prolong my suffering, then does it again, his tongue circling lower on my shaft, so that I'm losing my mind.

I grip his hair. "Fuck me, Port. Need you to fuck me."

He lifts onto his knees. "Good thing I've been bringing a condom and lube with me. Never know when you're gonna run into a hot cowboy."

He fishes the supplies out of his wallet, while I push out of my boots and jeans, leaving my shirt open against the blanket.

"That right?" I drawl. "Do you fuck all the hot cowboys?"

He loosens his belt buckle. "There's only one that makes my dick this hard."

"Oh yeah?" I glance up at him. "Then I'm sorry you'll have to settle for me tonight."

He growls as he kicks out of his boots. I love firing him up.

"Damn, Sully, just look at you." His breath catches as he stares down at me. "Ain't seen nothing prettier."

I purse my lips. "So you do think I'm pretty."

"More than pretty," he replies, and I tremble.

Fucking hell, does this man do it for me.

"It's not fair I can't see you too."

"Don't have to ask twice." Porter makes quick work of taking off the rest of his clothes, and now it's my turn to stare at how gorgeous he is. The lean, long muscles, the angular cheeks, and those eyes that seem to burrow into my soul.

I reach for his hand, pull him down to connect our mouths. Feeling Porter's bare skin against mine, his goose bumps from either the cool air or my touch, sends my stomach into a tailspin. I want to pretend it's the latter.

"Turn over," he rumbles. "And I'll?—"

"No, not this time," I plead. "This time I wanna look at you and the stars when you give me your cock."

"Damn, Sully. The things you s?—"

Lifting my legs to my shoulders makes Porter stutter.

"Fucking hell." His thumb circles my hole, and he gazes at it like it's a delicacy. "Can't wait to get my cock in there."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I'm not beyond begging at this point.

"I'll get there when I get there." He leans forward to lick a line from my sac, across the perineum, to my rim.

I can barely keep still as he feathers another path through my crease and kisses my hole like he's making out with it. I'm trembling and moaning, not caring who hears us—not even the wolves. When his tongue pushes through the ring of muscle, I nearly come right then and there.

"I can't, Port," I sob. "Need more. Need your cock."

He takes his sweet old time with his tongue and mouth until, finally, he relents. My legs sag against the blanket as I pant harshly and watch him. He makes quick work of opening the condom and sliding it down his shaft, then using the lube generously on both of us.

Finished suiting up, Porter fists his length. "You need this cock?"

"Yes, that cock," I murmur. "Only that cock."

He growls as he lifts my legs to my ears, then lines up his shaft to my hole. He uses his fingers first, watching as my ass eagerly swallows two and then three digits.

Just as I open my mouth to plead again, his cock pushes inside me, stealing my breath. The burn is like nothing I've felt before, but it's not enough. Not fucking nearly enough.

"More," I say as I fist my shaft.

He briefly watches me stroke myself before he's pulling out and pushing back inside, over and over again. I rock upward, trying to keep pace as he fucks me fast and hard.

We're both panting and sweating, our eyes locked as he's driving inside my body, taking what's his.

Soon enough his thrusts slow, his groan draws out, and he leans down to take my mouth in a tender kiss.

His stiff nipples brushing against my chest provide the perfect kind of friction I need to send me over the edge.

"I can't… I need to…" And then I'm lost in my head, moaning and floating on the clouds as my cock gushes cum across my belly. I'm shaking and panting, my ass milking his dick for all it's worth.

"Fucking hell, Sully." That's when he stiffens and shoots his load into the condom. I watch as he screws his eyes shut, his chest a bloom of rosy color as he chases the high.

Spent, he sinks on top of me, and I wrap him up in my arms and legs, wanting to preserve this feeling for eternity.

We kiss lazily for a couple of minutes before he leans down to lick the cum off my chest, and it's almost too much as my cock half fills again. "Fuck, that's hot."

He kisses my stomach. "You're hot and taste good too."

I grin like a damn fool as Porter draws back to remove the condom. That's when reality sets in. We're on the ranch, in a field under the stars, and anyone could wander over here.

It's unlikely but still risky.

I sit up. "Don't leave that out here."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says as he ties the condom and pushes it deep in his front pocket.

We finish dressing between kisses, and I wish we could stay here just like this and wake up in each other's arms.

"Not many more nights left like this," Porter says. He's looking at the stars, seemingly talking about the beautiful fall weather, but I have this sinking feeling he's referring to us.

I take his hand, and he helps me stand. "Then I guess we better take advantage of them."

I grab the telescope, he lifts the blanket, and we begin our trek back to reality.

I feel an ache in my chest that makes me wish for other things—more openness and privacy but for starkly different reasons.

"I'm gonna show you something one of these nights." I didn't mean to say it out loud and with such conviction, but an idea begins forming in my head that I can picture so clearly.

Porter smirks. "Was that a command or a question?"

"What do you want it to be?" I tease.

"Don't tempt me, or I will throw you over my shoulder, take you to the bunkhouse, and fuck you right there in front of everyone. Show 'em how good we are together."

My cock stiffens, and I feel dizzy with desire. I groan and grip his fingers. He knows I would never want any such thing, but when he says it filthy like that, I absolutely do, with him.

Our hands break apart as we near the back of the house and hear Mom's and Pixie's voices carrying from the porch.

"Where have you two been?" Mom asks as we round the corner. "You're all flushed. The temperature did just take a dip."

"Sure did." I refuse to look at Porter. "That's why we decided to head back in."

"I told you, they were looking at the stars," Pixie says, then glances at Porter. "Did Mr. Bishop teach you more about the constellations?"

"Uh-huh," he mutters, and I can feel his discomfort because it's the same as mine.

Mom is studying us closely, and I wonder what she thinks we were up to if it wasn't the stars. That same fear rises like acid in my throat, but I swallow it down. She's the one who encouraged me to rekindle my friendship with Porter. No way I want her to guess anything by accident, not before I come out on my own terms, so we sure as shit need to be more careful.

But I'm so tired of hiding and all the anxiety that comes with it. I'm so close to blurting everything out, my stomach sours.

"Why are you two out here?" Porter asks, and I focus on Mom's foot grazing the floorboards as the bench swings.

Mom's eyes meet mine. "Pixie couldn't sleep." Ever so slightly she gestures with her chin toward the bunkhouse. Pixie obviously has a sixth sense about her dad and probably didn't believe the white lie Porter told her. In many ways, she's old beyond her years, and I hate to think why.

"How about I read to you?" I suggest.

Pixie claps excitedly. "Yes, please. Treasure Island again?"

She'd found it on a shelf and begged to read it together. It started with us taking turns each page, then me reading to her for long stretches. I don't mind it, especially if she doesn't get it from her dad very often.

When I finally look at Porter, he lifts his hand in a wave. "Well, then, good night."

I can see the melancholy in his expression, and as he walks away, I want to run after him.

Instead, I climb the porch steps.

Pixie must also sense Porter's mood because her voice rings out. "Want to read with us too, Mr. Porter?"

His eyes momentarily spring to mine. "That's all right, darling. I need my beauty sleep, and so do you."

"But Sul—I mean Mr. Bishop's reading always puts me to sleep, so maybe it'll work for you too."

"Thanks a lot." I playfully grab her and throw her over my shoulder as she squeals. That's enough of a distraction for me to skirt Mom's scrutiny and for Porter to make his escape.