Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(63)

The words popped out before Wes could think twice. “Then spend the night at my place. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”





Chapter Sixteen

The offer sounded innocent enough, but Mack saw the flirtation in Wes’s crooked smile and bright eyes. And why not? They were back in a good place after weeks of being silently at odds, and now that Mack had made peace with Wes, he could breathe properly again. He hadn’t brought Wes to the diner with the expectation of talking about Geoff’s death, but he wanted Wes to know about that. In some ways, he’d needed Wes to know, so he could understand.

Mack was taking a metaphorical leap off a cliff by...dating? By doing whatever this was with Wes, and Wes seemed to get it. They both had very bruised hearts and very real reasons to doubt this would work. But something about Wes drew him in, and hell if Mack didn’t want to try.

“Okay,” Mack said. “Let’s go to your place.”

He paid the check, while Wes went outside to hail them a taxi. The ride was nearly silent, Mack’s skin buzzing with anticipation. Neither one of them had said sex was on the table, but goddamn if Mack didn’t hope they ended up naked in Wes’s bed at some point tonight.

Wes paid the driver, and then led him into a decent building in a relatively safe neighborhood. Mack liked knowing Wes could afford a good place, instead of taking chances living in a more dangerous, if cheaper, area.

“In case you forgot,” Wes said in the elevator, “I do have a roommate, but he’ll probably be asleep.”

It dinged like a bell. “Miles, right?”

“Yeah, we’ve lived together for a little over a year. And he knows about us sleeping together at the ranch, so even if he’s awake, it’ll be cool.”

“If somewhat shocking to see me?”

“Probably, yes.”

Wes led him to the appropriate door and unlocked it. The small living room was empty, a single table lamp left on. An equally small kitchen was to the right, and directly ahead was a short hallway with three doors. One of them was shut. The apartment had a flea market chic feel to it, with mismatched furniture and brightly colored, abstract wall hangings.

“Cute place,” Mack said.

“It’s affordable.” Wes dumped his keys on the coffee table, then strode into the kitchen. “You thirsty? No beer, but I’ve got water, wine and ginger ale.”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

Mack stood in the living room, a little uncertain now that he was here. Waiting for Wes’s cues seemed like his best bet. He didn’t want to accost the guy if sex wasn’t an option. Mack was stranded, after all, and driving him back in the morning made more sense than Wes attempting a round trip to the ranch tonight.

Wes returned with a glass of water for Mack and a glass of red wine for himself. It was after midnight, and Mack needed to be back at the ranch by nine o’clock at the latest, but he wasn’t tired.

No, with Wes merely inches away, every nerve in Mack’s body was on fire, aware of the man who turned him on so much he had to clutch at his water glass to keep from reaching for him. Pulling him close. Kissing him breathless.

His jeans started getting unbearably tight thanks to those thoughts—jeans already tight enough that he couldn’t hide his growing erection. His body hadn’t reacted like that to a guy in years. Not since Geoff.

Jesus, Mack wasn’t sure if he could survive falling for Wes, only to lose him, either to violence or to his acting career. Or some other guy.

Mack growled softly.

Wes blinked at him. “What did the water do?”

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

Wes wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, if you’re growling at the thoughts, maybe we should redirect them.”

“What have you got in mind?”

Wes ran his tongue over his lower lip, that silver ball grazing his teeth, gaze lowering briefly to Mack’s crotch. “I can think of some things.”

“If it’s the same thing I’m thinking, you might want to put that wine down before it ends up all over the floor.”

Wes snagged Mack’s glass, too, then put them both on the coffee table. Mack swooped in, eager to put the taste of Wes back on his tongue. Wes opened for him the moment their lips crashed together, fingers threading into Mack’s hair, holding tight. Mack took what he wanted, kissing Wes like he’d missed doing for weeks, until Wes was humping his own wood against Mack’s thigh.

Oh yeah, we’re on the same page all right.

Mack tugged Wes’s tee off, then attacked his mouth again. God, he loved kissing this man. The softness of his lips, the stroke of his tongue against Mack’s. That fucking ball stud. And Wes was good at kissing. So fucking good at it that Mack could kiss him all night, but with Wes back in his arms, all Mack really wanted to do was fuck him again. And again.

“Bedroom,” Mack said between kisses.

Wes didn’t release him on the odd shuffle-walk to his bedroom, and Mack didn’t complain. Eventually they passed a doorway, which Mack kicked shut, not caring if the bang woke up the roommate. All that mattered was taking Wes apart, until they both came like gangbusters.

Mack didn’t register the harsh turn until he was being pushed backward. He bounced on a soft bed, and then Wes climbed on, scooting them higher until he could straddle Mack’s waist, their erections pressed together. Their mouths met again, and Wes humped him, sending delicious sensation through Mack’s body. He clutched at Wes’s ass, pinching the skin through denim, urging him on, if this was how he wanted to get off.