Page 14 of Dust and Desire
My heart was pounding when I got back to my cabin. I slammed the door behind me, pressing my back against the cool door. Sweat ran down my forehead and neck from the heat and the running. I could barely believe what I’d seen.
Alex fucking Reyes… butt ass naked and dripping wet. God… I’d never gotten so hard so fast in my entire life.
His body was even more perfect than I’d imagined during those nights I’d lain awake, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about him. The sun had kissed every inch of his tanned skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his back, the curve of his ass, the strong thighs. I pressed the heel of my palm against my crotch, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pushing away from the door.
I needed a shower. A cold one. But even as I thought it, I knew cold water wouldn’t wash away the image burned into my retinas. I saw Alex standing in that river, water sluicing down his body, and completely unaware of my presence. Well, until he caught me that was.
But there wasn’t time to think about that. Not right now.
I stripped off my sweat-damp shirt and tossed it onto the bed, then kicked off my boots. My jeans followed, and I nearly groaned with relief when I freed my cock from my underwear. It stood at attention, harder than it had been in months. Maybe years.
This was still new to me, wanting a man this badly. I’d known I was gay since high school. Of course, that didn’t stop me from pushing it down all those years and marrying Ali in the vain hope that it would someday just go away. Still, even after the coming out and the divorce, I’d never felt this kind of raw, desperate need before. Not for anyone.
I stumbled into the tiny bathroom and turned on the shower. Not cold. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I wanted… noneededrelease.
As the water heated up, I stepped under the spray, letting it cascade over my shoulders. My hand drifted down to my cock, wrapping around it with a familiarity born of years of practice. I closed my eyes, and immediately Alex was there in my mind’s eye.
Those full lips. The way they’d part if I kissed him. The way they’d stretch around my?—
“Christ,” I hissed, stroking faster.
I imagined dropping to my knees in front of him, taking him into my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat. I could almost taste him on my tongue, could almost hear the sounds he’d make. Would he be quiet, biting back moans, or would he be vocal, telling me exactly what he wanted?
My hand moved faster, water and pre-cum making the glide easy. My other hand braced against the tile wall as my knees threatened to buckle.
Alex. Alex with his charming smile and his secretive eyes. Alex with his black cowboy hat and his tight jeans. Alex naked in the river, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Up until this point, I’d been so infatuated with Colt that I hadn’t noticed anyone else. He was usually the subject of my fantasies when I was in the shower like this or alone in my bed.
But those honey-brown eyes and that gorgeously tanned bodyhad replaced him in a second. This stranger, with his easy confidence and his charms, had me under his spell before I knew it. And now that I’d seen him naked, there was no going back. I wanted him, wanted his cock… wanted him touseme even if it meant I was nothing to him. Hell, that’s what I deserved.
I came with a strangled groan, his name on my lips, my release washing down the drain as quickly as it had appeared.
As my breathing slowed and reality crept back in, shame followed close behind. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about one of the ranch hands. It was unprofessional. Inappropriate. And yet...
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop wondering what secrets lay behind those brown eyes. Couldn’t stop wondering what he’d look like sprawled naked on my bed. It was like a dream, and one I knew was too sweet to come true.
I finished my shower and dried off, trying to put thoughts of Alex out of my mind. But as I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked back into the bedroom, I caught sight of myself in the mirror above the dresser. My dark hair was damp and disheveled, my chest still flushed from the heat of the shower and what I’d just done. I looked like a man who’d been thoroughly worked over, and all from just the memory of seeing another man naked for a handful of seconds.
What the hell was wrong with me? I was supposed to be focused on getting this ranch back on its feet, not jerking off to fantasies about employees I barely knew. Alex had been here less than a week, and already I was acting like a horny teenager.
I pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, trying to shake off the lingering effects of my release. But even as I got dressed, I couldn’t stop replaying those moments by the river. The way Alex had turned when he heard me crashing through the brush, completely unashamed of his nudity. The water streaming down his chest, following the trail of hair that led down to?—
“Stop it,” I muttered to myself, running a hand through my damp hair.
I needed to get back to work. On…something. Ever since I’d come to Sagebrush, I’d been holing myself up in my tiny house with claims that I was working. It sure as hell wasn’t anything on the ranch because I was dead useless when it came to physical labor. The first couple of weeks I’d lived on the ranch I tried to help with mending fences. All I managed to do was piss off the horses and ruin a large section of wire. From what little I’d heard, the ranch hands had threatened to quit if Caroline allowed me to help again.
So, what was I doing out there? In the past couple years, I’d managed to work my way through an alarming amount of romance novels, many of them revolving around gay cowboys. I had this idea that if I read enough of them, someone might come along to sweep me up in his big hairy arms and carry me off into the sunset. Clearly that wasn’t working out. Sometimes I journaled about how I felt, but it was always a depressing practice. So there was only one thing left to do.
Walking across the tiny house, I grabbed a mat tucked behind the couch and spread it out on the floor. Placing my laptop on the floor in front of it, I pulled up one of my favorite yoga videos and hit the play button.
“Hi, and welcome to gay yoga with Ciaran,” the man on the screen said, his smile too bright and his scruffy face too perfect. “Today we’re going to do some yoga to relieve anxiety and stress.”
“Perfect,” I muttered, dropping to my knees on the mat.
I needed all the anxiety relief I could get right now, with Alex’s naked body still flashing through my mind like a neon sign. I followed Ciaran’s instructions, moving into child’s pose, then slowly rising into downward dog. The stretch in my hamstrings helped ground me, pulling me back into my body rather than the fantasy world I’d been swimming in.
“Now breathe deeply,” Ciaran instructed in his soothing Irish accent. “Feel the tension leaving your body with each exhale.”
