02-Let It Ride (16 page)

Yes!
Bridge had the sudden urge to jump and pump his fists in the air, but he managed to maintain a modicum of control. Like dealing with a skittish horse, he just had to be patient until he earned Eric’s trust. “So . . . you put out on the first date then?”

Eric smiled. “For you, maybe.” He slid a hand down between their bodies and wrapped it around Bridge’s straining dick. Bridge’s eyelids fluttered, and a low keen whispered over his lips. Yes. He was never going to get enough of this—Eric in his arms, in his bed, playing him like a violin—and he rocked into the hold, leaning over to take Eric’s mouth in a slow, teasing kiss. God, how he loved the feel of Eric’s strong hand holding him, pleasuring him, owning him. And that’s exactly what it was like. The man owned him, and he loved it.

The man he was now officially dating.

Eric broke the kiss, hand leaving Bridge’s erection unattended to press at his shoulder, pushing him to his back. Eric crawled over him to straddle his hips, sliding forward to cradle Bridge’s cock along the crack of his ass. This they had done before, and Bridge loved the tease of it, the promise of what that seductive groove held at its center, but now the tease was pushing him to the edge of his patience, and he wanted inside. Inside Eric. To be one with him, know him in every possible way, discover every nook and cranny and spot that made his eyes roll to the back of his head and stole his ability to speak.

Bridge lifted his hips to increase the pressure, create more friction, to tell Eric what he wanted without using words he couldn’t form—that he was ready. But Eric arched forward, reaching behind to take Bridge in hand again, and the movement brought Eric’s cock closer to Bridge’s face. The train in his brain came damn close to derailing when it suddenly switched tracks.

“Give me,” Bridge said softly, and licked his lips.

Eric paused. He sat so still that Bridge wondered if he was still breathing. When Eric finally spoke, his voice sounded restrained, a note of awe lingering beneath his sharp accent. “Are you sure?”

He might have made a fumbling mess of things last time, but this time he was going to do it right for Eric. “All guns bl—”

“Yeah, yeah. Waving all your guns like a madman.” Eric laughed. “I got it.”

“Let it ride, baby,” Bridge said, and opened his mouth wide, waiting, watching the way Eric’s pupils dilated and turned his eyes the color of a midnight sky. Then Eric smiled and knee-walked a few more inches up Bridge’s torso, until the tip of his cock tapped the underside of Bridge’s chin.

He stuck out his tongue, flattened it, and when the heavy weight of that long slender cock rested on it, his mouth immediately began to water.

He moved his head forward, marveling at the dichotomy of such hot, silken skin sliding over that hard column of flesh as it inched deeper into his throat. A tiny drop of pre-cum trickled free, and the bittersweet flavor of Eric’s essence heightened his senses, bringing taste and smell and sound and touch into sharp focus. He closed his lips around Eric’s cock so he could roll his tongue around the glans and swallow down that first heavenly flavor. And holy fuck, he had a dick in his mouth, and it tasted good, felt good, and might just be his new favorite thing to do. Especially when Eric watched him the way he did right now. Those intense, burning eyes, silently praising, encouraging, urging him on while at the same time leaving him in complete control of the pace and force.

And he wanted that praise. Needed it to know he was giving Eric as much pleasure as he could.

Bridge brought one hand up to grip the base of Eric’s cock and cupped his ass with the other, using both to show Eric what he wanted. He sucked him deeper, until his lips met his fingers and the head of Eric’s cock bumped against the back of his throat. But he was a long way from deep-throat ability, and his gag reflex forced him to pull back. Eric caressed Bridge’s cheek, run his thumb along the edge of Bridge’s mouth, and Bridge knew it was okay. He put extra effort into swirling his tongue around the tip, sucking on it like the unique lollipop it was, and then dove back down. At the same time, he pulled Eric forward, urging him to rock into his mouth, to use him, take his pleasure. And all the while Eric’s gaze never wavered from his for even a split second.

Eric reached around, covered the hand Bridge currently was kneading his butt cheek with, and moved it toward his crack, guiding the fingers down until they met that tight pucker of enticing flesh. Bridge’s pulse spiked, and he couldn’t concentrate fully on the cock in his mouth, not when Eric used Bridge’s fingers as an extension of his own—circling, massaging, adding pressure without breaching. Bridge didn’t know if he was coming or going. He wanted to keep sucking, but he also wanted to slip inside that beautiful hole, into Eric.

His rhythm faltered and the hard flesh in his mouth was withdrawn, but his complaint stalled when Eric reached for the bottle of lube. His brain train switched tracks again. Eyes not straying from his, Eric popped the lid and leaned down to kiss him. Lost in the kiss, lost in Eric, he started when a dollop of cool, thick liquid landed on his busy fingers, slicking his ministrations.

“Open me,” Eric whispered against his lips.

Holy fuck.
No words for the cascade of emotion and desire and need that flooded through every inch of his body. This was really going to happen.

Hand now slippery with lube, Bridge pressed one finger inside Eric’s body, and the tight heat that engulfed his digit burned through skin and muscle and bone, right into his very marrow. Jesus. Soon that would be his cock in there, sliding in and out of that smooth, wet channel.

A tremor rumbled through Eric and his eyelids fluttered, and a rush of pride raced through Bridge. He did that to the man above him, with his mouth, his hands, and hell if that wasn’t a heady feeling. One he wanted to repeat again and again, to see how much higher he could push Eric into sheer ecstasy and beyond. Watch him shatter in rapture and glide back down to earth.

“Another.” Eric gasped, and Bridge obeyed, fixated on the play of emotion on Eric’s flushed face. Eric fucked himself on Bridge’s fingers, pushing them deeper and deeper until Bridge was buried to his knuckles.

“Christ, Eric.” Bridge panted. “This is so . . . You are so . . . fucking hot.”

“Time to save a horse,” Eric said. He grabbed a box of condoms from the table, tore it open with his teeth, pulled out one foil package and opened that with his teeth as well, and then, reaching around, he slowly covered Bridge’s hard, aching length with it.

Bridge carefully pulled his fingers free, eliciting a quiet groan from Eric, then Eric wrapped his hand around the base of Bridge’s cock and pressed the head against his hole, pausing there for just a breath. Then he began to slowly, maddeningly, lower himself down Bridge’s length, inch by inch, until Bridge was fully seated inside the gorgeous man.

Inside
him.

He had to pause and let the thought, the sensation, the reality settle in for a few heartbeats. Nothing in his life could compare to this complete joining with Eric, and he had a feeling nothing ever would again. Sure, it wasn’t his first time having sex, not even his first time with anal, but it was his first time with Eric and that made all the difference. Because he was buried in Eric and he loved how right and perfect that felt.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to thrust, to claim, but he didn’t know who should start, and a slow shiver skimmed over the surface of his skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “Can we move now?”

“Hellya.”

Eric rose and quickly set a steady rhythm, up and down, in and out, riding Bridge’s cock from tip to base and back, until the pace became too measured and Bridge needed more. He gripped Eric’s lean hips, holding him in place so he could thrust up into that tight heat with abandon. Eric braced himself with both hands on Bridge’s chest, fingers digging into his skin, under it, creating permanent holds, and Bridge hoped he’d be branded for life.

“There you go,” Eric murmured and rocked back, meeting Bridge’s upshot with enough force that the slap of meeting skin echoed in the room around them, fighting for control of an invisible battlefield with harsh, erratic breaths and wordless grunts. It was loud and messy and fierce, and he loved every fucking second of it.

Eric took himself in hand and began stroking rapidly, gaze locked on Bridge’s mouth. Bridge’s whole body tightened, preparing for what he already knew was going to be a mind-blowing orgasm. His balls pulled up close, and sparks of electricity gathered in his groin, at the base of his shaft. He raced for the gate but fought back to stop from reaching it so soon. He wanted to come, to explode, to shout his release loud enough for the whole world to hear, but he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to ride out this sharp edge as long as possible so he’d never have to leave this tiny private corner of heaven, the one that belonged only to him and Eric.

But the outcome of the battle left his hands the second Eric’s muscles squeezed hard around his cock. His breath caught in his throat, and his release shot from him like an angry Brahma out of the chute. Snorting, grunting, twisting, crushing—the most amazing fucking ride of his life. Eric rode the edge of Bridge’s orgasm, hand flying faster on his cock, bottom lip pulled into his mouth, but his eyes were still locked on Bridge’s, almost like he was begging for word from him to let go.

“Yeah, babe,” Bridge said. “Come on me.”

Eric’s head fell back on his shoulders, his mouth dropped open, and the growling whine of relief that escaped from him sent a shower of excitement raining over Bridge’s overheated skin. Hot streams of cum splattered his stomach until his sexy New Yorker had spent himself and collapsed on top of him.

Bridge wrapped his arms around Eric, holding him close while their hearts continued to pound, ragged breaths scraped over dry throats, and sweaty skin cooled.

“Just when I think it can’t get any hotter, it gets hotter.”

Eric didn’t seem capable of more than a short chuckle into the crook of Bridge’s neck, and after a few minutes, he sat up and eased off Bridge. He removed the condom and glanced around for somewhere to toss it.

“Floor,” Bridge said, and Eric raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not in college anymore, Dorothy.” He kissed Bridge and then got up. “Be right back.”

Bridge stared at the play of muscle flexing in that firm ass as Eric crossed the room before he disappeared in the en suite to discard the used condom. When he returned, he had a small bucket with him. “For next time.”

Next time.
Bridge liked the sound of that.

Eric set the trash bin beside the night table and then picked up his work shirt from the floor. He climbed back onto the bed, straddling Bridge again, and began wiping his drying cum from both of their stomachs.

Bridge smiled up at Eric, enjoying watching the man tend to them and the companionable silence that settled between them. He glanced over his shoulder, reached for his cowboy hat that hung on the bedpost, and plopped it on Eric’s head. “There, now you’re a real cowboy.”

Eric grinned. He tossed the shirt back on the floor and adjusted the hat to sit lower on his brow. “Told you I knew how to ride.”

Eric shifted in the saddle. The leather seat was a little too hard for his little-too-tender ass. It had been a long time since he’d bottomed, and Bridge was . . . well proportioned to his build. Big. He smiled. That dull ache was a sweet reminder of last night’s romp.

“What’s with the smile?” Bridge watched him with curious eyes as they rode side by side back to the barn. After spending a good hour earlier that morning learning from Bridge how to lasso a plastic steer head attached to a bale of hay, he’d decided they should take a ride on a nearby trail. The first half hour had been exactly as Eric had imagined riding the range would be like. Just them, their horses, and the Wild West stretched out for miles around them. The steady beat of hooves, the creak of leather, and the warm floral spring breeze worked like a balm to his soul—cleansing every worry, every concern, every doubt. Even his doubts about agreeing to date Bridge didn’t seem so big. Casual was still strings-free, right? Casual was still open. It didn’t mean he . . . what? Didn’t mean they were boyfriends, didn’t mean they were in a relationship. He could still avoid the coming heartbreak if he didn’t let himself fall deeper than that.

Right?

The mental silence that came back to him was more unnerving than the little voice arguing with him.

He shook himself free of thoughts that were making him crazy. Right here, right now, he had a little piece of heaven, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly at peace. For now, he could let all that fall by the wayside and be in this moment.

But he wasn’t used to riding, and by the end of the second half hour, things were getting uncomfortable, and all he wanted was to get his feet back on the ground.

“I need to get out of this saddle and off this horse,” Eric said.

Bridge cocked his head. “And that makes you smile?”

“No, the reason why I’d rather not be sitting on this hard seat anymore does.”