Page 24 of Wistful in Wyoming
“Yeah.” His cheeks crimson, Jeremiah wouldn’t meet Dale’s gaze, instead watching his own fingers as they skimmed back and forth across Dale’s bare chest. “It was so hot—blowing you and your reactions—I couldn’t help it. Though, I need to be honest here—if you’re going to keep making me come in my jeans, we need to plan ahead, so I can have a change of clothes with me.”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “I think that can be arranged. Or better yet, you let me be in charge next time.” Lifting Jeremiah’s chin with his finger, Dale leaned down and stole a kiss. He kept it light, savoring his lover. He tasted himself on Jeremiah’s lips, and it was almost enough to make him hard again. Almost. Ten years ago, it would’ve worked, but his recovery time had gotten longer as he’d aged. “And I do have a spare pair of shorts in my truck—there’s a duffle bag in the back seat.” Knowing Jeremiah would be wearing his clothes sent another bolt of desire through him. He’d just came harder than he can ever remember, and he already wanted Jeremiah again.
“Thanks. You know, that’s never happened to me before—I just couldn’t hold back anymore. You brought me on a romantic picnic and remembered my favorite foods. No one has ever done something like that for me.”
“I’ll bring you strawberry shortcake every damn day, if it’ll get my cock in that beautiful, talented mouth of yours.” Dale chuckled, hugging Jeremiah tight against his side. Trying to absorb his warmth and scent into the very center of his being. “Seriously though, I love being with you. Talking to you. Even just sitting and relaxing, not saying a word. I wanted to try and make you as happy as you’ve made me lately.”
Smiling shyly, Jeremiah snuggled his face into Dale’s chest, kissing the center, before sitting up. “Come on, Marine, put your gorgeous dick away, let me change, and then we’ll eat.”
“Sounds perfect. I’m starved. After all, I didn’t get an appetizer like you did.”
Winking and grinning at the other man’s blush, Dale pulled paper plates and napkins from the pack while Jeremiah walked stiffly to the truck. A few minutes later, he returned in a pair of baggy, black basketball shorts that hung low on his waist. He stared down at his cowboy boots, then the shorts and his exposed knees, sighing heavily.
Dale bit his lip, trying to swallow an amused snicker. “Look at you. Love the fashion statement, babe.” Jeremiah’s legs were so pale, they were nearly translucent. The contrast of the milky-white skin was even more startling against the black material of the shorts. “We need to get you some sun. The light reflecting off your polar bear legs hurts my eyes.”
Jeremiah flopped down on the blanket and glared at him. “Well, aren’t you the comedian? Laugh it up, asshole.”
Chapter Fourteen
After their picnic,Dale drove them back to the JP. Neither wanted the day to end, but duty called. The animals weren’t going to feed themselves. Jeremiah was doing the evening chores at his place, so his foreman and five ranch hands could have the night to do whatever they wanted. On most Saturdays and Sundays, two hands took care of the basic work that needed to be done each day, such as feeding the horses and checking on the cattle. They rotated on a schedule each week, so everyone had some time off. He didn’t want his ranch to be their entire lives, not like it was for him.
“I had a great time today.” Dale stopped the truck next to Jeremiah’s, putting it into park and turning off the engine. “I want nothing more than to keep this going, make you dinner, and maybe watch a movie.”
A glance toward the empty dirt lot in between the bunkhouses told Jeremiah all the hands were gone. Most likely Anthony was somewhere on the property but nowhere in sight. Jeremiah had hired the pleasant but generally quiet man two years ago, after his longtime foreman had been diagnosed with cancer and moved to Montana to live with his daughter and her family.
Jeremiah’s shoulders relaxed a bit and the quivering in his gut eased. He hated that he was so nervous about being caught in a compromising position, but he wasn’t ready for everyone to know about them yet—however, it was hard to remember that when Dale was within touching distance. Jeremiah was still coming to terms with actually dating a man. “Next time, we’ll do that. You can cook?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy, but I can keep you fed, cowboy.”
Letting his gaze drop to Dale’s crotch and linger, Jeremiah arched a brow, and chuckled. “Oh, yes, you definitely can keep me fed.”
“That was dirty, Jay. So damn dirty and I love it.” Dale reached across the console, dragged Jeremiah closer by the back of his neck, and kissed him thoroughly.
He sank into the kiss, chasing Dale’s tongue, then catching it and sucking it into his mouth. They’re combined moans went right to his dick, and there was no hiding his raging hard-on in the shorts he was still wearing.
Releasing him, Dale leaned back, breathing hard. “The things you do to me, Jay.” Shaking his head, he took off his hat, running his hand through his hair before replacing it. “Come on, let me at least walk you to the door.”
“You realize I’m a grown man, and I can get inside all by myself, right?” Jeremiah asked, grabbing the bundle of his soiled jeans and boxers from behind the seat before climbing out of the truck and meeting Dale by the front bumper.
“Of course, I know that. But this is a date, and this is what people do on dates. I told you I was going to romance you. So, since you won’t let me open the truck door for you, I’m going to walk you to your front door and steal another kiss before saying goodnight.” Winking, Dale held out his hand and waited.
Hoping his assessment of the ranch hands not being around was correct, Jeremiah took Dale’s hand, entwined their fingers together, and pulled the man up the porch steps after him. Not willing for the day to end, he led him to the loveseat swing. Tossing the dirty clothes onto the floor, he took a seat then gestured to the empty space next to him. “I know you have to go—I have my own work to see to—but five more minutes won’t hurt, will it?”
Dale shook his head and sat beside him, setting the swing in a gentle motion. They touched from thigh to shoulder, pressed together as close as they could get, neither willing to break the connection they’d forged by the lake. Dale frowned, shifting slightly away from Jeremiah and then back against him.
“Um, are you okay?” Jeremiah asked, his tone uncertain.
“Yeah, hang on.” Dale stood and then it hit Jeremiah.
Oh shit!
“Dale, no, wait!”
It was too late though, as Dale flipped over the cushion and revealed the wooden cock Jeremiah had carved earlier ... and forgotten all about.
“Jay?” Dale cautiously picked up the wooden phallus with his thumb and forefinger and held it up. “Something you want to tell me, babe?”
His cheeks flamed hotter than the sun. Certain he was about to keel over from embarrassment, he hid his face in his hands and groaned. “No,” he mumbled, daring to peek out from between his fingers.
