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Read Online Wilder, Winona - Loving Tyler [Coming Out 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Winona Wilder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Winona Wilder
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to an erotic longing. They looked each other in the eyes, not speaking, just wanting.
When Tyler had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well as being older and more experienced. Marcus made Tyler feel like all male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for cleanliness. It was all endearing to Tyler . He wanted to claim the Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he discovered.
“Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him, carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly. Tyler couldn’t help but run his hand through his shiny, black hair, savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked.
“Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in his lover’s eyes.
“Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace. “And city boys aren’t so gullible.”
Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?”
“Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.”
Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming.
“What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep off the alcohol.”
“I can’t go to sleep.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m scared you won’t be here when I wake up.”
Chapter Seven
Tyler slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest, the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with Tyler ’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out, Tyler mentioned his clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within the hour by the looks of it.
He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret choosing Tyler .
“This your truck?” A gruff male voice came from behind him as he unlocked the driver’s side.
He turned around. The man wore jean overalls, and he was slightly overweight. There was a negative air to him that brought out Marcus’s hackles. “Who’s asking?”
“Looks like your tires were slashed.”
He stepped back, forgetting the man, only concerned to see the tires for himself. At least one was indeed flat. Marcus whirled around. “You see who did this?”
The stranger
When Tyler had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well as being older and more experienced. Marcus made Tyler feel like all male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for cleanliness. It was all endearing to Tyler . He wanted to claim the Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he discovered.
“Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him, carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly. Tyler couldn’t help but run his hand through his shiny, black hair, savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked.
“Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in his lover’s eyes.
“Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace. “And city boys aren’t so gullible.”
Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?”
“Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.”
Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming.
“What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep off the alcohol.”
“I can’t go to sleep.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m scared you won’t be here when I wake up.”
Chapter Seven
Tyler slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest, the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with Tyler ’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out, Tyler mentioned his clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within the hour by the looks of it.
He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret choosing Tyler .
“This your truck?” A gruff male voice came from behind him as he unlocked the driver’s side.
He turned around. The man wore jean overalls, and he was slightly overweight. There was a negative air to him that brought out Marcus’s hackles. “Who’s asking?”
“Looks like your tires were slashed.”
He stepped back, forgetting the man, only concerned to see the tires for himself. At least one was indeed flat. Marcus whirled around. “You see who did this?”
The stranger
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