Roped Tight by Kim Loraine

Sam

Tuckerand I had been riding the land for the better part of the day, surveying the trails and clearing some of the brush. Just as we’d done for the last two days. We'd also been gathering stones and had built a round fire pit out in front of the cabin. Tucker's idea. But I had to admit, I liked the idea of sitting quietly with him and enjoying the sound of the campfire.

It was near dusk now, the perfect time for fishing. I thought I might go back to the cabin and grab my gear before catching us some dinner. Tuck had been really quiet all day, but I hadn't really given him much reason to want to talk to me. The truth was I didn't know what to say to him. ‘Hey, I kissed you, I think I'm gay, are you gay too?’ That wasn’t a conversation you could really just dive right into.

So, I settled for the next best thing.

"Want to do a little fishing?" I asked as I drew a stop next to him at the crest of the hill.

We stared across the rolling landscape, the sky turning warm orange with shades of red and streaks of purple in the clouds.

"Can you believe this view?" he asked, ignoring my fishing proposition.

"I see why my dad picked this place."

"It'll be nice to be able to bring the person he loves most in the world here. I’d do the same thing if I could."

That punched me right in the gut. Would my dad be able to bring my mom here? "You have somebody you'd like to bring here?"

On the outside, I was sure I sounded calm, collected. But on the inside, I was praying for him to say no.

"Not yet. Never stayed in one place long enough to put down any roots. Let alone fall in love."

"Why don't you stay?"

He shrugged. "Nothing's been worth staying for."

The clouds that were streaked with purple only minutes before had thickened and grown darker, changing from calm and beautiful to ominous and threatening.

"Storm’s coming,” I said.

With a slight grunt, Tucker dug his heels in and drove his horse back the way we came, toward the safety of the cabin.

Fat drops of rain fell from the sky, splashing and soaking through my wranglers on the long ride back to the cabin. Unfortunately for us, we were riding into the storm rather than away from it. And along with beautiful summer sunsets, Montana also came with vicious summer storms. The weather could change at the drop of a hat. Thunder rumbled in the not too far distance. A flash of lightning had Shadow skittish and nervous. We picked up the pace, going as quick as was safe on the uneven ground, needing to get back and get our horses put away.

As soon as we reached the cabin, I dismounted and took Shadow to the newly repaired stable, putting her in and making sure she’d be safe. She snuffed and pawed at the ground.

Making soft, soothing noises, I tried to calm her. “Don't worry, you’re gonna be fine. You’ve been through plenty of storms."

Tucker came in behind me, his clothes soaked. He smiled. "You got a soft spot for horses, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Don't you?"

"Suppose so." The thunder boomed, closing in around us. "God damn, temperature must've dropped ten degrees. We better get inside, get a fire going. I won't be surprised if it starts hailing soon."

Alarm shot through me. "You think the roof can handle hail?"

He chuckled. "I guess we're about to find out."

As we made a break for it, hail the size of marbles began pelting us. It bounced off his hat, hitting hard, making me thankful we’d both chosen to wear jackets even in the warmth of the summer day. We burst inside the cabin, him lighting the lantern, me going straight for the fireplace. By the time we had the space lit and the flames crackling, we were both laughing and breathing hard.

He took off his hat, rainwater trailing down his cheeks and neck. "Fat lot of good this hat did me, with the rain coming in from all sides."

I looked down at my own soaked body. My coat was drenched all the way through to my shirt. I took it off, hanging it on the back of a chair near the fireplace, but my shirt was in just as bad of shape. So, without making eye contact with him, I unsnapped the buttons and peeled the wet fabric off my chest and shoulders. I did the same thing with my shirt as I had with my coat, then toed off my boots and set them next to the hearth.

The space was filled with crackling tension. Not a word had been spoken, but I could feel his eyes on me. I turned to face him, the dim light casting his sharp cheekbones and the shadow of his short beard in sharp relief. Fuck, he was hot. He didn't even know it. But the things this man and I had done in my dreams…they would've burned this place down.

He shucked his own coat but didn't bring it near the fireplace. Instead, he hung it by the door, letting the thing drip onto the mat. Then, without taking his gaze from mine, he took off his boots, leaving them where they lie before removing his hat and setting it on the table.

"Sammy, we're gonna need to talk about that kiss."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. A churning in my gut that had nothing to do with unease had my skin humming with anticipation. "I'm sorry about that."

He took a few steps closer to me, fingers unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. With each button, each pop of the pearls, my cock grew harder. It was like the damn thing had a mind of its own, and when Tucker Weston was around, it wanted to be seen.

"You're sorry?"

I had to dart my tongue out to wet my lips before I could speak. "I … misread the situation."

The slight twitch of his lips made my chest tighten. Was he smirking at me?

His shirt open all the way to his belt buckle now, I couldn't avoid staring at the lines of his tight abs. Smooth ridges of muscle, all strong and masculine. How had I denied what I really needed, wanted, until now?

"You didn't misread a fucking thing." He draped his shirt across the arms of the chair mine was hanging on. He was standing so close. His hard body within reach of my fingers. And, fuck how I wanted to touch him. I'd wanted to touch him so badly since our moment in the truck, but he'd avoided me. He pretended like it hadn't happened.

"What are you —"

I didn't get to finish the sentence. He gripped the nape of my neck and pulled me hard against him, our chests brushing each other as his lips crashed onto mine. God, the scrape of his beard on my mouth sent tingles straight to my dick. If I hadn't been hard as stone already, I would’ve been now. Instead, my balls ached, my dick throbbed, and my head fucking spun. Tucker was kissing me like he'd been starving for me.

I groaned against his mouth, opening mine just enough that he could push his tongue inside. His skin was hot under mine, and I fought a shudder of longing as the toned muscles of his back tensed where I touched him. I let my fingers roam his body until they reached the waistband of his jeans. Then I tore my mouth away from his, both of us breathing heavily, his hand cupping my jaw.

He stared into my eyes and took a long breath. "God, I've been wanting to do that."

I chuckled. "Well, I think you should do it again."