“Oh, damn. I do. I was celebrating the end of a season, and I was starving. You never got used to that part.” Sky’s voice dropped. “Although you like it when I’m ripped, huh?”
Oh, he was into this. He craved Sky’s seduction, a little of the cocky bull rider coming out, the way it always made his mouth go dry and his skin tingle. He licked his lips. “I do.” He always had. Sky was ripped the day they met, and most of their time together. He loved how all that muscle felt under his fingers. Or his tongue.
“I’ll have to get me a trainer, so I don’t get fat in my old age.” Sky nodded. “I want to make sure I can make you want to do me in a restaurant bathroom forever.”
Oh, damn.He remembered that night through a slightly hormone-and-alcohol fogged lens. They’d wanted it bad, and they hadn’t been alone in days. Remembering just how bad made his balls ache a little. “That was…God, remember how quiet we had to be?”
“And that ain’t easy for me. You are the hottest bastard I’ve ever known. I saw you and knew what I needed.”
He’d been a bit of heartbreaker before Sky came along. Being wanted was something he’d gotten used to. But it was hard to explain what it felt like to be wanted by a hot, champion bull rider that was full of attitude and adrenaline. “You’re still smoldering, babe.”
“I’m coming back to the real me.” Sky’s grin was pure wickedness. “I missed making you wild.”
Beck reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. “That’s one part of the future I am very much looking forward to.” He’d still give it up for Sky anytime.
“Yeah, babe. Me too.”
The server put a basket of bread on that table and some herbed olive oil in a dish. It was so warm he could smell it, and he inhaled deeply. “Mmm. Bread.”
Sky tore a bit off, dipped it, and then—to his utter shock—fed him the bite. He held Sky’s eyes as he chewed and licked his lips after he swallowed. “You’ve gotten brave, cowboy. I like it.”
“I don’t have to please the sponsors, right? I’ve put in my time.”
“Damn right.” He picked up his wineglass and held it up. “To us.”
Sky nodded once, smile warm and happy. “Yes, sir. To us.”
18
Sky sat at the top of the stairs, telling himself to do it.Just stand up, hold on to the handrails, and take it easy.
He’d crawled up to get his phone, then he’d goofed off, taken a nap.
Beck was working his ass off in the office, happy as a clam, and he was…stuck at the top of the stairs.
Maybe if he turned on his good side and slid. That might work, if he pulled his bad leg up. It could totally work.
He sat there long enough that Walter came up the stairs to see what his problem was, chattering at him, and walked around him in circles.
“Butthead cat. Can’t you carry me down?” He started laughing, his head thrown back with it. His entire body shook, and he slipped down two steps. “Whoops.”
“Hello?” Beck’s voice drifted up the stairs, probably from the downstairs bedroom. “Sky?” That second one was closer.
“Hey, babe!” He rolled his eyes, and Walter head-bumped him.
“Sky? Are you…?” Beck rounded the corner and stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was proud of the way Beck panicked for a second but schooled the look and gave him a smile. “Hey, Stud. Comfy?”
“It’s not terrible, honestly. I’d take a hand if you’ll give one, though.” He grinned down, and the laughter came again, bubbling out of him.
Beck’s grin grew wider and his husband made a big show of climbing the stairs to pick him up. “Were you headed up, or down?”
“Down, please.”
They both laughed, and Walter howled as Beck carried Sky down the stairs and sat him on the couch.
“Dare I ask?”
“Short version—I forgot my phone upstairs, so I crawled up to get it, took a long nap, and came down-ish.” He lifted his face to beg a kiss. “Thank you.”