Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(84)



Mack hadn’t thought his heart could feel that sort of love again, but maybe...?

I could love this man. I really could.

The thought pushed him over the edge. Fireworks spun out, racing up and down his spine, as he shot over Wes’s belly. Semen splattered his smooth skin, some even hitting his chin, and Mack let out a self-satisfied moan, stroking himself through it until he came down.

He draped himself over Wes, smothering the smaller man into the bed, smearing his release against both of their chests. Licked the drops off Wes’s chin, then kissed him hard. Wes wrapped himself up in Mack, arms around his back, legs curled over Mack’s thighs, pressing their groins together.

So perfect. And so fucking fragile.

*

Wes hummed softly, so stupidly content in this moment that he almost couldn’t stand it. His last twelve hours had been amazing, from Mack surprising him at work, to the incredible sex they’d just had. He wanted to stay in bed forever, surrounded by Mack’s heavy, sweaty body, coarse hair grinding against his skin, waking his nerve endings up for a possible round two.

He rutted up against Mack, their spent cocks rubbing together.

Mack nibbled on his earlobe. “Trying to set a record for refraction time?”

“Love feeling you against me.”

“Same.”

Mack lifted his head so their eyes met. Dark brown eyes that shined with so many unspoken things. Wes’s throat closed, holding back words he’d almost released earlier. Words he felt but wasn’t sure he was ready to say out loud yet. Mack opened his mouth, then shut it. Paused.

“Not sure I can get it up again so soon,” Mack finally said. “But my dick sure is making a mighty effort.”

Wes snorted. “Mine, too.”

Mack slid halfway off Wes, so they were cuddling more than playing human blanket. Wes angled toward him, loving these quiet moments when they didn’t have to do anything more taxing than exist together.

“You really were incredible last night,” Mack said softly. “Tell me more about why you love acting.”

“I’m not totally sure,” Wes replied. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved being the center of attention. I’d pretend to be other people. I’d memorize lines from re-watching my favorite movies over and over, and I’d perform them at dinner for my parents. When I was six, I did my first dual performance with Sophie as my co-star. She was only two, of course, and she flubbed her lines, but it was so much fun. Our parents recorded it.”

“Now that’s a home video I’d pay money to see.”

Wes laughed, even as the idea of introducing Mack to his parents left his insides squirrelly. “They have a ton of home videos of me, everything from acting at Christmas family gatherings, to the high school plays I performed in. It’s just...something I have to do. It’s hard to explain. When something’s a calling you just...you feel it in your bones. Did you ever feel that way about being a cop?”

“Sometimes. Being a cop wasn’t a future I questioned, ever. Probably because everyone else in the family was in law enforcement, but I wanted to do something different. Be better, so it mattered less that I was gay. I loved being a regular cop, but going into SWAT was more me proving something to myself and my family.”

“That a big, butch SWAT officer could still be gay?”

“Pretty much.”

Wes twirled his fingers in Mack’s damp chest hair. “I can’t imagine being that brave. Putting myself in harm’s way to save other people’s lives.”

“It’s damned scary, but there’s also an adrenaline rush that happens. Sharpens your focus, keeps you in the moment. I miss it sometimes, but I get a similar rush when I’m out galloping in the fields with Tude. There’s this huge animal allowing me to ride her, and she could change her mind at any time, but she doesn’t.”

“That makes sense.”

Mack was silent for a moment, but Wes could see the questions in his eyes.

“You can ask me anything,” Wes said.

“Do you ever think you’ll go back to Los Angeles? Or New York? Try your hand at a more successful career? I mean, San Francisco isn’t exactly the Mecca of modern film and television.”

Guilt bubbled like acid in Wes’s gut. He should have told Mack about the audition sooner, and now he would sound like he was only confessing because of a direct question. Wes sat up, feeling way too naked for some reason. He pulled the sheet around his waist. Mack sat up, too, his expression openly worried.

“I totally meant to tell you this sooner, but I really wanted to tell you in person, and this is the first real chance I’ve had,” Wes said, knowing he was babbling a bit. He explained Tracey’s unexpected phone call last week, the script, and the audition she’d set up for him. “I fly in and out of LAX Tuesday, round trip. I’m in the city long enough to meet the producer and do an on-tape audition, and that’s it.”

Mack blinked hard several times. “That’s it.”

“I mean, that’s not it, like it’s a small thing, but that’s why I wanted to explain it all in person, instead of over Skype.”

“But you saw me last Tuesday.”

“Tuesday wasn’t about me, though, it was about you and the mega-bomb that Colt had dropped into your life. Maybe I should have told you then, but you had enough stress happening with that, and then getting the restoration off the ground.”

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