Authors: Mercy Celeste
“No.” Creed stopped drumming long enough to say. His hand rested on top of Eli’s on the gearshift. And Eli’s heart plunged into his stomach. Shit. “Maybe, don’t laugh, okay? Salad. I want a salad. Some lettuce and tomatoes, you know, that stuff you don’t like.”
“Okay, a salad. And beer.”
“We have plenty of beer at home. Besides, you drink too much.”
“Nag.” But that home comment sent him spinning. His home, Creed’s home. Their home. Shit. Flip-flops and seizures. No way this was happening.
“What happened with Sawyer? And don’t lie to me, Eli. I could tell something was wrong clear to the other side of the ring.”
After checking to make sure the trailer was all right, Eli put the truck in gear and headed for home. Before he turned into his drive he caught Creed’s hand and held it for a moment. “I let it slip that we’re sleeping together. Completely fucked up on that one.”
“I see. And Sawyer didn’t seem too upset about it, I noticed,” Creed replied, his voice flat, soft.
“Yes and no. It upset him. I guess. Finding out … anyway. We talked a little about my dad and stuff. He swore he wouldn’t out us.”
“Do you trust him?” Creed’s hand lingered in his. He squeezed. Eli wasn’t sure if he even realized what he was doing.
“I guess. I mean. As much as I trust anyone. Are you worried?”
Creed let out a breath and looked at him. “Some. I’d like to not get my ass kicked by a bunch of rednecks if it’s all the same to you.” He pulled his hand away, rubbing it almost protectively before he sighed again. “Guess I have to trust him. There was time to have his entire crew…”
“Yeah, I know. I was waiting. Hoping. Sawyer knew my dad when they were young; he and Dad and Tom were friends. I can only hope that friendship means something to him. That’s all I can do.” Eli parked the truck near the stable. He grabbed Creed’s hand before he could climb out and traced the razor-thin scar between his thumb and finger that ran to his wrist. A memory flashed vivid and bright. He couldn’t quiet grasp it to let it unfurl. “So I’m going to go in and call Tom before he sends Randy the pit bull out, and then I’m going to order pizza. And then I’m going to shower. I smell like flop sweat.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m going to put Kipper up for the night.” Creed pulled his hand away and left him sitting in the truck.
Eli didn’t know why he felt alone when the door closed. Silly really, as if the last couple of weeks hadn’t happened at all. And he had no idea why.
Chapter 11
Oklahoma in late spring was kind of nice. Creed looked around the ring for the telltale swatch of red hair. He could have sworn he’d seen him earlier. Hanging over the rail. First time in over a year Eli hadn’t competed in this event. One he used to dominate. Tonight they’d meet in saddle broncs. But somehow Creed missed making Eli eat crow in pole racing.
He led his horse out into the bright, late afternoon sun. Not too many people were milling around the trailers. Just him, and a few riders racing past for the next event. Kip was young, still green. A good horse. But not quite ready for racing. He tied the horse to the back of the trailer and went around to the truck to leave his gear.
“Where’s your old man?”
Creed grunted against the side of the trailer, his arm twisted behind his back. A black slick of fear shot through him followed by nothing. He knew that voice.
“Inside somewhere.” There was no point in lying. Lying hadn’t served him well in the past. “His event is up soon.”
“And the driver?”
“With Dad.” Rough fingers were already inside his jeans, pushing them down. Creed didn’t make a sound at the first intrusion. Wouldn’t do any good. He took it. Just like always. Except this wasn’t like always. This was broad daylight during an event. Anyone could walk up. Mason was rough. Angry. He didn’t speak; he fucked. In the distance Creed heard the blare of a siren. He wondered who’d been hurt.
“Come for me, you little whore.” Mason slammed inside him. Reaching around, he grabbed Creed, forcing him to come. “Pussy boy can’t come. Come, pussy boy.” Mason bit his neck. Held him captive, fucking him, jerking him. Creed came. He called him Uncle. Uncle Owen. Just like he liked. “That’s good, Eli. That’s real good. I knew you had it in you.” He groaned against Creed’s neck, his body pinning Creed to the trailer as cum rushed inside him. “That’s a good boy.”
Mason wiped cum on Creed’s jeans. He’d have to stand in front of the judges reeking of sex. “Goddamned whore.” He slipped his hand inside Creed’s pocket just like he did every time. “Don’t let your daddy snort that up his nose. Get some food, maybe a new hat or something.”
Eli didn’t show up for saddle broncs that night. Rumor had it he’d left. Other rumors had him leaving in the back of an ambulance. Creed never found out the truth. He hid the five hundred dollars Mason had shoved in his pocket and won his first bronc competition. Because Eli wasn’t there to stop him.
* * * *
Midnight, and the house echoed with silence. Eerie silence that made Creed twitch. He was used to noise, sirens, cars, horses, whatever as long as it made noise. He opened the windows in the guest room and sat on the bed in the dark listening to the sounds of the country. Tree frogs or cicadas or crickets or something—probably all three—created a strange symphony that resonated throughout the room. A cool, damp breeze stirred the curtains. He heard a cow lowing in the distance. The full moon shone bright on the flat expanse of land. A couple of oaks seemed silver in its light.
Eli hadn’t come to bed. Not that Creed was waiting for him. He pulled the sheet around his hips. Maybe he was waiting. Eli had come every night this past week. For sex, for sleep, because he was bored. Who the hell knew? Creed sure as hell didn’t know what was going on with Eli, but here he was waiting like a good little wife.
Disgusted with himself, he found a pair of worn elastic waist shorts and pulled them on. Eli had been distant all evening; after the pizzas came, they’d eaten in silence. Creed waited for him to talk before going back to his book. But he hadn’t. He didn’t interrupt either as he’d done every night, until Creed put the book away and gave him his undivided attention.
Tonight Eli didn’t want his attention. He hadn’t tried to kiss him even once. He’d tried every night since Sunday. It became a game that usually ended with Creed on his knees and Eli inside him.
His skin felt tight. He shivered. The night air wasn’t chilly; he wasn’t cold. He wanted Eli to come to bed. Wanted him. After all the men he’d been with he couldn’t stop thinking about Eli. Shit.
Eli was just like his uncle. Selfish asshole. Creed tried not to think about Eli’s uncle. He’d managed that successfully for the last three years. And for the better part of the last two weeks. He’d be fine if he didn’t think about Eli’s uncle. He traced the scar behind his thumb, stopping to open the door.
The main house was mostly dark. Eli kept the doors in the bedroom wing closed. He knew which room was Eli’s and there was a bathroom. The other doors Creed could only assume had belonged to Eli’s parents and his younger brother. He tried the door that was Eli’s. No one answered his knock; he peeked inside in case Eli had gone to bed. The small bathroom was lit up, light spilling over the juvenile room, the double bed empty.
The living room was dark; Creed didn’t look up at the portrait over the mantle; seeing the long gone happy family disturbed him too much. Lights were on in the kitchen, the side door unlocked. Creed couldn’t see anything from inside.
Away from the house the moon was the only light. His eyes adjusted as he scanned the drive and stable yard.
“Are you looking for me?”
Eli’s voice startled him. Was he looking for Eli? Creed stepped off the porch and followed the sound out to the truck. Eli sat on the tailgate swinging his legs.
“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d check on the horses,” Creed lied. “Why are you out here?”
“Mosquito truck came through earlier, I had to open the gate for it. And then… I don’t know. I’m restless.” Eli looked up at him, parting his legs so that Creed could step between them. “I haven’t spent this much time here since I was a kid. Really need to get … I don’t know … the moon is full. Guess it makes me crazy.”
Creed rested his fingers on Eli’s jeans-covered thighs. The muscles underneath flexed and relaxed at his touch. Gentle hands glided along his forearms, making Creed shiver. “Crazier than usual?” Creed couldn’t help replying.
“See now, you know me so well.” Eli flashed a grin that made Creed catch his breath. “I love the way you’re looking at me right now,” Eli said, his voice husky now.
“And how am I looking at you?” Because he sure as hell didn’t know. Eli wrapped a leg behind his thighs and hot fingers pressed into the small of his back; he pulled Creed closer until his legs bumped against the tailgate.
“Sort of warm. Can’t explain it. I just like that you’re looking at me. I’ve wanted you to look at me for years. Didn’t know how to get your attention.”
“A great big Eli secret, wow. Should I be flattered?” Creed ran his hands along Eli’s shoulders.
“I’d probably run like hell if I were you.” Eli shivered beneath Creed’s fingers. Goose bumps prickled his skin. “I love your hands on me.”
Panic stabbed Creed through the deepest part of his soul. Somehow this was all wrong. He was too comfortable here like this. Too damn comfortable pretending he and Eli—“Yeah, I’d be running except this thing on my leg is keeping me trapped here.”
Creed winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Eli looked away, his attention focused on the stable shining in the moonlight. The horses moved in the enclosure, their soft nickers blending in with the nocturnal symphony that seeped inside Creed, making him long for something he’d never had.
“I was thinking about calling Tom tomorrow and getting started on fixing this place up. The stable looks great inside. Thanks for helping me get it cleaned up, by the way. Maybe it’s time to paint and maybe remodel some things. I’m going to be here a while, you know.”
“How old were you when you lost them?” Creed ran his hands up to cup Eli’s face, bringing his gaze back to him. The pain he saw there struck him deep in that place that didn’t want to care about anyone. Especially Eli Mason.
“I’d just turned thirteen.” Eli sighed, laying his head on Creed’s shoulder. “I was in school, you know, Evan—I hate that damned portrait, Evan, he was nine, he had Down’s syndrome, that’s my face on his little body. It’s not his. I hate it. I never knew why they did that. I never knew if they were ashamed of him. He was smart and funny. Such a great kid. They were on their way to see one of his doctors in Pensacola when the accident happened. Then Owen took me away.”
Creed held him as silence wrapped around them. “My mom died when I was twelve. Just after Christmas. She had pneumonia. Her lungs filled with fluid. And she was gone. I didn’t know my dad that well. He came around a few times a year.”
“Around about the same time. It was cold that year. Really cold. It was sleeting, the road was iced over—Creed, I’m sorry for getting you in this mess,” Eli whispered, pain shining in his eyes, silver moonlight magnifying the emotion until Creed felt the stabbing deep inside.
“Maybe, I don’t know, Eli, maybe I spent three years out of rodeo doing odd jobs. I never stayed in one place long. I wasn’t happy. I saved up to get back in. And still can’t decide if it’s what I want or if I’m just doing it because it’s what I know. Sly was right. I’m burned out on it. Maybe this was something I needed. Horses. All I know is horses. And I can paint. You want to pick a new shade of pink for the house? I’ll help put it on.”
Eli laughed, a snort followed by his booming laughter. The pain left his eyes. “Are you saying you’re happy here?”
Leave it to Eli to ignore the obvious and pick up on the ambiguous. “I don’t know what happy is, Eli. But if this is what happy feels like, then maybe.”
“Happy enough to stay. I mean when this mess is over. Sawyer is offering you a job. And I need someone to help me run this place. I’m told I pay pretty good.” Eli tucked his head into Creed’s neck, his breath so hot against his skin that Creed moaned.
“And you’ll run off chasing the PBR while I stay here and muck out your stables,” Creed whispered, wondering why the thought occurred to him. Would he want to stay if Eli wasn’t around? He threaded his fingers through Eli’s hair. “I love your hair. So soft.”
Gentle lips grazed his neck; a soft chuckle tickled his skin. It was his turn for goose bumps. “Does that mean you might kind of sort of like me a little?”
Did he? Eli had always been just another cross he had to bear. Creed set a knee on the tailgate beside Eli’s and pulled himself into his lap. “Under one condition.”
“Yeah? And what would that condition be?” Eli moved deeper into the truck bed. One hand cupping Creed’s ass.
Creed leaned against him, his mouth hovering over Eli’s. So close he could feel his breath. “Don’t let me fall.”
He moved against him, rocking his body, Eli’s breath caught; he moaned, the sound coming from between parted lips. “Need you. Won’t let you fall. Want you.”
“Now. Here. Like this.” His cock throbbed with a need that left Creed breathless, disoriented. “Fuck me. Need it. Don’t let me fall.” He lifted his legs for Eli to drag his shorts off, both of them fumbling with the buttons on Eli’s jeans, tugging and rubbing against each other until they were both naked. Fingers probed him. Eli stared up into his eyes, his gaze never wavering. “Yeah. Like that.” He moved on Eli’s fingers, pleasure and pain all rolled together. “Need you inside me,” he whispered, feeling Eli’s gasp on his lips.
“Don’t have anything out here,” Eli groaned, his fingers sliding in deeper with each thrust. “Want you so bad, Creed.”
“Don’t care. Trust you. Please. Don’t make me beg.” Creed held Eli’s shoulders, steadying himself as he rose up on his knees. Eli spit in his hand; it would do. Creed angled his body to take him. Wincing at the sting of friction. Holding on for dear life, Creed pressed his forehead to Eli’s, eased him inside. “Shit. Oh fuck.”
“You okay?” Alarm spiked in Eli’s gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you.”