Page 64 of Wilder Heart

A brief spike of irritation hit Wilder. It wasn’t Billy’s business where they’d been.

Cash opened his mouth to speak, but Clyde interrupted. “That’s the last of us. Everybody get to the truck. I’m ready to hitthe hay. Take the same seats you had on the ride up here. I ain’t waiting for y’all to figure out another round of who-sits-where.”

Which would put Billy in the front and Wilder and Cash in the truck bed again. Did Clyde know, or suspect, what was going on between them? Or was he just generally trying to keep Billy and Wilder away from each other?

Billy headed for the truck with Wayne and Darryl, and Clyde shot Cash a wink.

Well. That settled that. Someone knew the truth, and it wasn’t the end of the world.

He was giddy as he climbed into the back of the truck. His body barely registered the cold as he sat, accepting a blanket Cash handed him and flushing when he realized he meant for them to share. Hidden under the wool, Cash’s hand found his thigh. Clyde gave Wayne the usual lecture about not standing up, and then they were off, the truck growling out into the night.

Cash’s idly exploring fingers found his inseam. Innocent at first, or so Wilder thought. They stroked back and forth in place for a little while and then moved, following the line up Wilder’s thigh. Wilder held his breath as he neared his groin, torn between his need for secrecy and his desire to be touched. He waited for Cash’s decision, and some part of him recognized with resignation that he would accept whatever Cash chose to give him. He was that far gone on the man. If Cash wanted to stick a hand down his pants right here in front of Darryl and Wayne, far be it from Wilder to refuse him.

But Cash didn’t do that. He stopped just shy of Wilder’s growing bulge, his fingers playing with the inseam but going no further.

Wilder turned his head, pleased to see Cash’s face was flushed under the passing streetlights. He was certain he looked just as affected.

“You’re a goddamn tease,” he murmured, shifting slightly.

Cash’s face split into a grin. “Would you like me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” He didn’t want Cash to ever stop touching him. He slipped a hand under the blanket to wrap around Cash’s wrist, intending to hold him there, but Cash’s hand turned to meet his, tangling their fingers together.

“I won’t,” Cash said solemnly, his honey brown eyes deep with intent, and Wilder knew he wasn’t just talking about his hand on Wilder’s leg.

Holding hands under a blanket on a cold Autumn night, Wilder felt like his past and present selves were colliding. It was such a simple thing, holding hands with a boy he liked, and yet he’d never dared to do it. He’d missed out on so many rights of passage as a kid. His life had frozen while he was in prison, and now that he was free, he still felt eighteen in a lot of ways, picking up right where he’d left off.

He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather pick things up with. Cash was his safe place to land. He could safely stitch his past and present together with Cash’s help. That much he knew.

The ranch was dark and quiet when the truck ambled to a stop in front of the bunkhouse. A few of the guys muttered farewells as they departed for their rooms, and when the last of them was out of the truck, Clyde drove away to park it around the side of the building, leaving Wilder and Cash standing alone.

Cash looked askance at him. “Do you want to seemyroom?”

Wilder perked up, and Cash leaned in, as though he needed further bribery, and whispered in Wilder’s ear, “I have lube.”

Wilder closed his eyes. “Fuck yeah I want to see your room.”

Cash chuckled, a molten sound that sent sparks exploding under Wilder’s skin, and took Wilder’s hand. “Come on, then.”

Cash’s room was on the back side of the bunkhouse, along with the laundry room. He shot Wilder a starlit smile as he keyed open the door and pushed it open, inviting Wilder to cross the threshold first.

It looked much more like a home than Wilder’s bare-bones room did. A warm, western-style rug covered the floor. An ancient, oak trunk sat by the foot of the bed, which was larger than Wilder’s and had a different headboard. There was a small television sitting on the dresser. A framed photograph of a horse hung on the wall by the window, above a narrow, waist-high bookcase that was packed with books.

“The next time I’m bedridden, I’m staying in here,” he declared. It was bold of him, because no one knew about them. They’d have to explain why Wilder wasn’t staying in his own room, if that happened. But maybe, just maybe, he would be ready to be honest with the world by then.

“There better notbea next time,” Cash said, turning him around.

Smiling, Wilder opened his mouth to respond, but Cash cut him off with a searing kiss. He sighed into it, cradling Cash’s face.

They undressed each other unhurriedly, discarded clothing leaving a trail in their wake toward the bed. Fully naked together for the first time, Cash pushed Wilder down onto the bed. He went eagerly as Cash grabbed the lube.

Wilder tucked an arm behind his head and drank in the sight of Cash’s naked body with appreciation. Sun-kissed and dusted with coarse black hair, he was broad and healthy. Not as lean as Wilder, his muscles were thicker and covered in a healthy layer of fat that made it obvious he was a man of labor. He probably had incredible stamina.

Wilder cleared his throat. “I feel like I should state for the record, before we begin, that I’ve never actually done this before.”

Cash paused with one knee on the bed, quirking a curious brow at him. “At all?”

“I’ve never taken anyone, no. I’ve, ah, used a finger on myself here and there. Nothing more than that.”

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