Roped Tight by Kim Loraine

Sam

Thunder boomedoverhead as I stood in the bathroom, a candle providing my only light. I stared at myself in the mirror, a stupid grin on my face as I replayed what had just happened between Tucker and me. Nothing had ever felt as good as his hands on me. Not even my own.

I’d never be able to forget the sound of his heated moans. Maybe he’d be up for more. I should have been fully sated. For fuck’s sake, I came so hard I saw stars, but my dick perked up the minute I heard him call my name. God, I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anything. And from the looks of things down below, I could have him.

The thunder rolled again, this time so close it shook the house. We must’ve been too distracted by each other to hear the storm getting closer. I came out of the bathroom to find him lazily draped across the couch. He was naked, the blanket covering his hips, and when he saw me, he grinned. The man was proud of himself. And why shouldn't he be? He just changed my entire world.

"You doing okay?" he asked, sitting up and staring at me intently.

I let out a hearty and honest laugh. "Yeah. In fact, I think for the first time ever, I feel amazing. I didn’t know it could be like that."

A gentle chuckle rumbled in his chest. "That’s what real attraction does. It can’t be forced, and you shouldn’t have to try to want someone. When you really want someone and finally get to have them…well, fireworks are a cliche for a reason.”

"Are you… um, out?" I asked, taking a seat near the fire.

He offered me a noncommittal shrug. "I don't hide. But I'm a very private guy. Living in a bunkhouse wasn’t always … easy. Some guys didn’t like it.”

My chest tightened, and my blood ran cold. "They give you a hard time?" If the ranch hands were making him feel uncomfortable, we’d be fixing that.

An easy smile spread his lips. “Nah. Not here. At workplaces in the past. That's why I'm not there anymore. I can’t change who I am. I shouldn’t be made to feel like I need to either.”

That twisted something up inside me, knowing he been dealing with stuff like that. "Does my dad know?”

“Yes.” Such a simple response. Yes.

Knowing my dad was welcoming, accepting, and made Tucker feel like every other guy on the ranch made my heart lighter. He could be who he was without fear. It meant I could too. I should.

Tucker looked at me, his eyes soft and filled with affection. “You’re really lucky to have the family you have. They’ll be there for you. Even when you don't want them to.” He ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I can't tell you when to come out, but I can say that now that you’re figuring it all out, when you're ready, you got the best team behind you. I wish I’d had that. So damn much."

I thought about my fear of talking to my family, telling them their traditional idea of me finding a nice girl to settle down with and having a passel of kids was different from mine. That wasn’t the life I wanted, at least not the finding a girl to love part. Sure, I wanted a stable home eventually, but kids and a wife and matching Christmas pajamas wasn’t part of that equation. I didn’t know if they’d understand that my future wasn’t carved from the same hopes as theirs. But now, after what Tucker said, that fear uncurled and dissipated. Because he was right.

Once our clothes were dry, we unfortunately had to dress. Tucker started a fire in the stove and made dinner while I spent time chopping more wood and bringing it in for us.

"First order of business for this place after your parents come visit for the first time,” Tucker said, taking a drink of the whiskey in his flask as he served up some stew, “electricity from a generator that is big enough to power the whole house.”

I laughed. “Oh, who's the whiner now?"

He filled a bowl and shoved it toward me. “Come on, you gotta admit doing everything by candlelight isn't the most comfortable. And as much as your mama loves to cook, I think a fridge would be a nice thing to add to this place.”

Mama cooked for any occasion she could find. Hundred days of school? She’d make a hundred cookies. Flag Day? A pie that looked like an American flag. Every holiday we had special meals, some kind of home-baked dessert, not to mention, she was always trying out new recipes. If we could get this place set up for her to have a real home away from home, maybe she’d forgive Dad for keeping his diagnosis from her.

"You’ve been paying attention."

“Damn right, I have. I don't want you for just your ass.”

The flirtatious tone in his words went straight to my rapidly lengthening dick. “You been watching my ass?”

"Yes, sir. Kind of hard not to. You’re always walking around in those tight jeans. Your ass on full display when you ride those bulls…”

I was on him before he could finish his sentence, leaving our food untouched. He unlocked something in me, and now I couldn't get enough. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could.

He threaded his fingers in my hair and pulled me down for another searing kiss, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, my hands behind his head. We had to be careful or we’d starve to death out here, having finally exhausted ourselves and each other. I slid down his body until I fitted myself between his thighs. Was I really going to do this? Was I ready to have a cock in my mouth? The simple truth was, yes. If it was his.

"Look at you. Hungry already?" Tucker's gaze was steely and laced with anticipation.

"Tell me how you like it."

He pushed me back, getting to his feet. Disappointment shot through me, rapidly followed by the hot shame of rejection.

“Sit on the sofa and open your mouth.” The smooth, even tone of his command sent waves of arousal through me.

I did as he asked, and I watched with my pulse pounding as he slowly popped the button on his jeans and then slowly lowered the zipper. Then his long, thick cock sprang free, and without another word, he pressed it to my lower lip.

“Lick your lips, Sammy. Then cover your teeth and take my cock.”

The thrill of those words from his mouth as he stood there mostly naked, hard as stone and waiting, had my own dick swelling and aching.

I licked the head, the taste of his pre-come bitter and salty, but it didn't stop me. All it did was show me this was so much more than I thought it’d be. I slid him into my mouth, and a sharp pain bloomed from the roots of my hair. His fingers had found a way into the thick waves, and the pain had me groaning around his cock. He must’ve liked it because he bucked his hips and gripped with both hands.

He swelled even further in my mouth and whispered, "That's right." His words betrayed the knife's edge between control and chaos he balanced on.

I took him as deep as I could, but he was big, and this wasn’t something I’d done before. As though he knew, he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock after releasing my hair and began to stroke in time with my motions, taking the inches I couldn't fit in my mouth.

My hands wrapped around his ass, shoving his pants down until they were around his knees. I needed to feel his bare skin. He moaned as I toyed with him. The hiss of pleasure when my fingers teased his crack had me nearly coming in my pants.

"Fuck, Sam, I’m close. Keep doing that.”

I did, taking him all the way as he started moving and muttering something. Until he stopped abruptly, breath coming in tight gasps, and he whispered, “I’m gonna come. Swallow. Take it."

I didn’t stop or slow down. He swelled in my mouth, his balls pulled tight, and I felt the pulse of him shooting down my throat. Moving back, I let my gaze slide up his body; the tight muscles of his abs were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and they tensed and flexed with his heavy breaths.

“Fuck, that was…” he started.

“Hot?”

“So damn hot.”

He dropped to his knees and kissed me hard. Our breaths were the only sound in the space. I never wanted to go home. I just wanted the two of us to stay here, discovering each other all night and working all day.

Tucker was right. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from wanting him, but now, I didn’t have to try.