Down and Dirty (Down Home #2)

by Parker St. John

He walked straight into Denver’s personal space without hesitation, colliding with the solid wall of his chest and burying his nose at the base of his throat. The scent of leather and wintergreen filled his lungs, as warm and familiar as the stroke of a hand, and Lane groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his forehead against the unshaven edge of Denver’s jaw and breathing him in. Just breathing. For what felt like the first time in years, he could breathe again.

Eventually, Denver wrapped one rough hand around the back of Lane’s neck and pried him away. “You never fucking learn,” he growled.

“They paid your fine, but they sent me to fetch you home.” “Say what?” He let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “I’m not a lost puppy.” “More like a rabid wolf,” Denver agreed. “The kind that turns crazy and starts chewing off its own paws.”

For a while, at least, Denver had found his solace in bull riding. Lane had found his peace in Denver.

No matter the bad blood between them, Denver would always mean safety to Lane. He was comfort. He was home. Whether he wanted to be or not.

He wasn’t wrong, but Lane had always had a feral streak. Denver used to be right there jumping off ledges with him. He used to be just as wild as Lane. No, wilder. Denver was the wide open sky and the rush of cold wind off the Little Belt Mountains. He was a winter storm in a bottle, trapped by a modern world that didn’t suit him.

“A cabin you don’t even own? A ranch you’ll never inherit? How about pretending you never kissed a man before? Pretending you never liked it? Pretending if things had gone just a little different—”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were raised by wolves,” he muttered, dragging him toward the Dodge.

“But you’re just like our pack. You’ll sniff around the edges of other people’s lives and come crawling back when nobody’s looking. Doesn’t matter the carnage you leave along the way.”

“I wanted you to stay,” Denver groaned, and he kissed him.

Denver’s mouth crashed into his with the force of a bullet, smothering his shocked gasp with brute force. Their teeth clicked, and Lane’s breath was pulled straight from his lips and into Denver’s lungs.

Warmth poured off the hard body pressing him back against the side of the truck, so different than his memories and fantasies. So real. His lips were a brand, setting fire to Lane’s broken armor until it charred and peeled away, exposing his very core.

“You did everything you could to get away from me after I kissed you,” Lane retorted. “You acted like I didn’t exist. If you’d wanted—” “I wanted you to stay,” Denver interrupted harshly. He reached down and grasped Lane by the wrists, removing his touch with a cold precision that chilled him. The sudden space between their bodies left him cold, but it was the frozen void in Denver’s eyes that nearly stopped his heart. “I wanted you to stay,” Denver repeated furiously, “and you didn’t.”

And Denver. Every memory of him was seared like a brand into his heart. Someday, when he finally tangled with the wrong bull, the coroner would cut him open and see the etchings of Denver carved into his very bones.

“You were so full of fire back then,” Denver whispered. “I know you think Sky was the heart of this place, but it was you. Always. Everything you did brought life to the Triple Creek. No one could touch that, not me, not your folks, not even your brother. But now… God, Lane. You think clowning around and pretending you’ve got nine lives to rip through fools anyone into thinking there’s not a huge chunk of you missing?”

“I don’t know why you waited so long to kiss me again. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Like the blueprint of you was stitched inside my skin before I was ever born. I knew it from the first time I saw you. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We missed our chance. You and I? We don’t deserve happiness like that.”

They were blood. More than that, they were twins. Born together, one as bright as the shining sun, and one like the dark heart of a wildfire. They were one soul split into two bodies; they’d never been meant to live in this world without the other. Without him, Lane was broken, and he always would be.

“Put me down,” he croaked. “I can walk.” “Ssshhh.” Denver’s breath was hot as molten lava against the frozen shell of Lane’s ear. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not going to let you fall.”

“I called your dad and told him we were hunkering down here for the night,” he said gruffly. “Strip out of those wet clothes.” “You know how long I’ve waited to hear that?” Lane joked, grasping clumsily at the zipper of his jacket. “Your t-timing sucks.” The look Denver sent him over his shoulder froze Lane where he sat.

With one hand still clenched on Lane’s hip, his other palm slid beneath the open flannel and up Lane’s belly until it rested over the center of his chest. Lane’s heart pounded against his palm.

“I used to love watching you,” he admitted, his lips brushing the shell of Lane's ear. "Did you know that?" Lane shook his head, sucking in a startled breath when Denver's hand slid higher and curled lightly around his throat. It felt possessive, but there was no threat in his touch. Just the reminder that he was there, and that he'd keep Lane safe...even from himself.

“You should have died a hundred times with those crazy stunts you pulled, but you were so alive. You buzzed with it. I used to think you’d shock me like one of your mama'...

My world growing up was so fucking bleak…it’s like I never knew colors ex...

“Everything you said on the mountain was true,” Denver admitted softly, “but I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting to be near you. I try to keep my distance. If you’re inside, I’m outside. If you go right, I go left. But you’re always right there, riding in the back of my skull, whispering to me and making me want things I can’t have.”

“Just for tonight,” Denver said harshly. His fingers tightened around Lane’s throat, sliding beneath his jaw and cranking his head back. His mouth burned as it touched the hollow beneath Lane’s ear, and his breath was hot against his skin. “No one is here. We’ve got nowhere to go and nothing to be except…us. Just for tonight, I want to touch you and not worry about you taking off on me tomorrow.”

Denver controlled the kiss, fingers clamped on Lane's jaw, turning his head just the way he wanted so he could deepen the connection. His lips were like firm satin. One confident stroke of his tongue against the seam of Lane's lips was all it took to break him wide open.

"I don't want to stop," Denver admitted in a hushed voice. He sounded as if he were in pain. "I've wondered about this for so long. It doesn't even matter what happens tomorrow or next week. I'm tired of feeling like I only know one half of who I am."

"But I do. God help me. Sometimes I think I want you more than I want to keep breathing."

“You have me,” Lane said simply. As if they both didn’t already know the truth. As if it hadn’t been obvious to anyone who knew them. “You’ve always had me. All you needed to do was reach out and grab me.”

“You’ve always been so fucking beautiful, Lane. It nearly stops my heart.”

“Do it,” Denver commanded. His free arm slipped around Lane’s waist, holding him fiercely as he bucked and twisted. “I want to see it. I need to see it. You’re going to look so hot splattered in your own come.”

“It’s okay,” he said, sounding amused. “You don’t have to be careful with me. I’m a grown man, Lane. I'm not going to let you do anything to me that I don't want."

“That you won't like it. I'll do something that makes you push me away. You've never been with a man, Den. What if I do something wrong?”

Denver grabbed him by the chin and kissed him so hard that their teeth clicked. "How about I tell you exactly what I want?" he murmured against Lane’s mouth. “Exactly what I’ve dreamed about all these years. That way you don’t need to wonder.”

The man was a god, but not the arrogant, sophisticated kind from legends. He was something fiercer, something primal, like the god of the wild west. No mere mortal could possess a body like that. A model with a good spray tan might have the same complexion, but his skin would never glow from inside. A bodybuilder might have thicker biceps or a stacked six-pack, but he’d never have the functional strength to buck hay hour after hour without rest. And those eyes…Lane had never seen eyes that color outside a pair of contacts.

“I remember that day,” Denver said, dipping his head to make sure Lane was holding his gaze. “We’d just finished boxing up Sky’s bedroom. You came in and stared at me with this shocked look on your face, and I thought you’d finally had enough, that we were finally going to talk. But you turned around and left without a word as soon as I opened my mouth. That’s when I realized things weren’t ever going back to the way they were. You were never coming back to us. I guess Ronnie and I were both grieving that day and things just…happened.”

Lane bit his tongue. Hard. But Denver didn't understand what he was driving at, so he tried again. “I always used protection, and you know I can't bleed all over those arenas without paperwork to prove I'm clean, but still, I…” He trailed off before adding lamely, “I've been with a lot of men.”

“I just want you,” he said hoarsely. The ceiling blurred, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I want you any way you’ll have me.”

“Because I’ve never been just another guy to you, Lane. You’ve wanted me since the first day we met. Now you’re going to have me…and I’m going to have you. God, I’m going to have you.”

Lane suddenly needed to say the words Denver had been begging for just as much as Denver needed to hear them. “I love you.” Denver lifted his head, staring at him with those lonely green eyes of his, and Lane knew he’d made the right choice. “I’ve always loved you,” he said, reaching up to brush a lock of sweaty hair off Denver’s forehead. “Always.”

He was so handsome that it hurt to look at him. His lips were smooth and pale, and Lane couldn’t resist brushing a kiss against them. His pulse sped up when he felt those firm lips begin moving sleepily under him, and he pulled back with a start. Denver’s slow grin was better than Christmas morning.

The scrape of a boot warned him that he wasn’t alone. The wind picked up, carrying with it the smell of rain…and the smell of Denver. Lane closed his eyes and breathed. He’d miss that scent, the masculine mix of leather, liniment, and wintergreen that clung to his skin.

“Oh, baby,” Denver whispered, cupping his face, “that doesn’t surprise me one bit. You don’t know yourself at all.”

It was so good, so sweet, so right. They didn’t need bulls; they didn’t need pills; they didn’t need racing on the edge of danger and hoping to fall. All they needed was this, right here. Them. Together. Chasing down their pleasure like that wolf pack out on the range and tearing into anything that dared to keep them apart.

“I know, baby,” Denver whispered harshly. “Come for me. I need it. God, I need you.”

Then Denver set his teeth into Lane’s throat, biting hard, and Lane cried out. Stars burst behind his eyes as he came. Denver cursed, ramming his hips into Lane’s, and joined him. Their combined release spurted across their fingers, and they convulsed together, trembling and heaving in the humid night air.

Denver flicked open the top button of his shirt and put his teeth to Lane's collarbone. "You've been driving me crazy," he admitted, voice muffled. “You look at me, and it’s like I can’t breathe. Like all this pressure is bearing down on me, squeezing the air right out of my lungs, but I know that if I grab you and get you underneath me, I’ll be able to breathe again.”

“It’s like you stole something from me back when we were kids, and you never gave it back. I thought all I needed to do was stop pretending I was straight. Maybe if I admitted I wanted you, I’d get that piece of me back. But I didn’t. You just took even more from me, and I can’t…I can’t fucking lose anymore of myself to you. But I can’t stay away, either.”

“Your family needs you. I haven’t seen your mother so happy in years. Stop choosing strangers over the people who love you!”

“Don’t make this harder than it is,” Lane pleaded. “I’m going to make it impossible!” Denver roared, grabbing him by the biceps and giving him a hard shake. But if he was hoping for a rise out of Lane, he was mistaken. All the fight had gone out of him.