Page 81 of Where They Belong

“I wish I could make love to you right now.” Colt sighed and tugged him closer.

Mason opened his mouth to ask why not, but the events of the day before came rushing back. Gus and Gentry drugging his dogs, abducting him and tying him to a tree, setting out bait to attract wild animals that would kill him, Colt and his brothers and Nick riding to his rescue like something out of an old western movie, Colt getting shot . . .

His chest squeezed at the terror that had gripped him when he’d thought Colt was dead. If he hadn’t been wearing that bulletproof vest . . . He shook the thoughts away. No sense in freaking out over something that hadn’t happened. Colt was here and alive, and that was all that mattered.

“How much does your back hurt?” Mason asked.

Colt shifted and groaned. “More than yesterday. Feels like I was trampled by all your bison out there.”

“I’m sorry.” Mason rolled in Colt’s embrace and onto his side so he could face him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Colt countered as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind Mason’s ear. “I’d do it again, without hesitation, to protect you.”

Mason huffed. “You know I can take care of myself, right?”

The grin that lifted the edges of Colt’s mouth felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. He chuckled. “Uh-huh. How were you going to get untied before a cougar or pack of wolves came across you?”

“I was working on it,” Mason retorted with a smile.

Colt’s grin faded, but his gaze remained steady on Mason’s. Colt gently traced his jaw, and Mason couldn’t look away. He dove headlong into the beautiful blue pools that were Colt’s eyes, contentedly lost in their depths. Birds sang beyond the windows of his bedroom, and the morning sunshine slivered through the curtains, promising a fresh start. He was in no rush to move, to leave this perfect moment. Thankfully, Trina had taken the dogs home with her, so he didn’t have to get up and let them out. He didn’t want to get out of bed, leave Colt’s side, until he absolutely had to. And even then, he’d be hard-pressed to make the effort.

“Can you lie on your back?” Mason whispered, afraid to speak too loudly and pop the bubble.

Colt rolled away from him slowly and then sucked his breath in through his teeth. He rocked back to his side and shook his head.

“Sorry.” Mason placed a hand gently on Colt’s chest. He could feel the beat of Colt’s heart under the warm skin against his palm—a balm to his soul.

Colt shook his head. “No sorrys.”

Mason slid his hand down over Colt’s hip and then shimmied himself toward the end of the bed.

Colt lifted an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

“I’m going to take your mind off your back,” Mason promised, stopping when his face met Colt’s morning erection. “Well, good morning, Little Colt.”

Colt snickered. “I am notlittle.”

Then his breath caught a second later when Mason firmed his grip on Colt’s hip and slipped his lips over the head of Colt’s cock. Damn, but he tasted good. Musky and earthy and male. Colt’s hand found its way into his hair, fingers scraping over his scalp, and his eyes drifted closed. Mason dove down, taking Colt’s full length into his mouth, and Colt cursed on a gasp, the hand caressing Mason’s head now gripping his hair in a tight fist.

Colt writhed and rocked into him, his breath coming faster, shallow and ragged. Mason dug his fingers into Colt’s hip as he sped up, worshipped him with his tongue and his mouth and his hand. Loved him. He worked him, drawing him higher and higher until Colt cried a warning before his body spasmed, and hot, salty liquid filled Mason’s mouth. He took everything Colt gave him, sucked him to the last drop, before releasing him with a slow slide from his lips.

“Jesus,” Colt said, breathless. “No words. You broke my brain.”

Mason grinned as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the twinges in his shoulders and wrists, and crawled back up the bed. Colt put his arm over him and tugged him closer, resting his chin on Mason’s head.

“Your brain wasn’t what I was after.”

“I knew you only wanted me for my body,” Colt teased, a smile in his voice.

Mason was quiet for a second, his fingers tracing lazy figure eights on the side of Colt’s ribcage. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Your body, your brain, your heart . . .”

Colt didn’t say anything, but he didn’t so much as twitch at Mason’s words. Had he said too much, or did Colt not hear him? He wasn’t going to take them back. He meant what he said, but he wasn’t going to repeat them either. He knew what he wanted to happen now, knew what he wanted the rest of his life to look like. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hopefully, Colt wanted the same.

“Colt—”

“Mason—”

Mason smiled and felt Colt’s grin.

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