Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Cole’s lips crooked into a smile. “You could, but I never wanted those fancy boys with their studied glances. What I need is someone who understands me and can keep up with me.”
Ned felt silly over mentioning it in the first place. What did he know about whores? He’d not even kissed anyone until Cole. “Scotch was talkin’ yesterday… I know he was drunk as a skunk, but he said he’d fuck Sarah’s rear, and that some ladies like that. Made me feel like a fool. Did you see any of that back then? Or was he just talkin’ gibberish?”
Cole let his head drop to his nape, exposing his throat, and laughed. “Neddie, you’re too innocent for your own good. Yes. It’s done, and it’s real pleasant,” he said, cocking his head to meet Ned’s gaze.
With his mouth dry as if he’d held it open by a fire for hours, Ned cleared his throat. “You’ve done it?” He tilted his hat to hide the fact that his face was surely red as the insides of a butchered pig.
Cole showed him two fingers with a wide grin.
Ned laughed out loud and pushed at his shoulder. “You’re unbelievable! With all that experience, I bet my sucking needs a lot of practice to live up to your girl-loving standards.” A joke, but he did wonder how he’d fared in the grand scheme of things. He wanted to become Cole’s addiction the same way Cole already was his.
The smile faltered on Cole’s face. “I don’t think I’ll ever touch a woman like that again, Neddie.”
Ned gave him a sheepish smile and slid one hand between Cole’s legs. “That good, eh?”
Cole’s lids fluttered, and he pushed back against Ned’s fingers, placing his own on Ned’s thigh. “Told you. This is what I need, and I don’t want no substitutes. A strong man, as tall as me, as firm as me. With a big cock.” He licked his lips, moving his fingers lower as if the heat of his words weren’t enough to put Ned into a frenzy. “Get us off the road.”
Ned urged the horses to the side. They’d hide a bit farther from the trail for good measure, but they hadn’t met a soul since leaving camp, so he wasn’t worried about being discovered. “I can’t stop thinking of how you stretch your mouth around it.” Ned was glad that they weren’t travelling at much speed, because he didn’t want to take his hand off Cole’s growing prick.
“Then maybe I should try again,” Cole whispered and rolled his tongue over Ned’s ear, triggering unexpected trembles. All of his life Ned had thought only his cock could be a source of lusty pleasure, but in Cole’s hands every bit of skin turned pliant and sensitive to touch. “Really want to take it all in and feel it pulsin’ inside me. And then, you’ll do me, and I’ll get to actually see my juices drizzling down your smooth chin.”
Ned didn’t want to wait any longer. He stopped the horses and turned to Cole for a needy kiss. He would never get enough of this man. When Cole’s fingers trailed down Ned’s sides, his whole body came alive. They could probably steal an hour or two on their own, and entwine in the sunshine with no shadows to hide the beauty of Cole’s body.
“That’s one thing I won’t be sending a telegram about to my uncle.”
“You sure?” Cole whispered, flicking his tongue across Ned’s lips as he took hold of the buttons at the front of his pants. “There’s a telegraph office at the outpost. Maybe you should tell them ‘Learned to suck Cole Flores’s johnson - your loving nephew Ned O’Leary’.”
Ned winked at him. “That’s a mouthful.”
But even as he said that, dusty cogs moved in his head. This was his chance. Cole trusted him, so Ned might steal a moment to send the Pinkertons a telegram from the trading post. He’d then try to forget about his betrayal and gorge himself on Cole Flores for as long as their illicit friendship could last.
Chapter 17
The trading post was little more than a couple of shacks tucked against a rocky hill, with a handful of trees for shade and a decrepit wooden fence at the front. The owner had bothered to make the entryway somewhat impressive at least, and had hung a buffalo skull off the beam at the top of the timber gate.
The late June sun made Ned’s cotton shirt feel almost too hot, but its warmth also perfumed the air with the scent of clay and the herby odor of the shrubs growing all over the place like weeds. The wagon trembled under his ass as if the horses purposefully pulled the wheels into every dip and rock in their way, but he was in good company, and Cole only let go of his hand as they rolled into the large yard.