Chapter Four
I WOKE up feeling better than I had in a while. My body hurt, there were new bruises, and I was sore in brand new places, but there was comfort too, which was just too terrifying to contemplate. Nothing had changed. I would still have to leave because, again, my brain told my heart for the ten billionth time, I could not live in San Francisco. There was nothing for me to do there.
Having changed and gone out the front door, ready for my morning run, I was surprised when Rachel was suddenly there.
“May I join you?”
“Yes, ma’am,”
She cleared her throat. “Not that I don’t love your sexy drawl when you say ma’am, but I really would like you to call me Rachel, if that’s okay.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled at her.
“My brother-in-law is head over heels in love with you, my girls think you’re the second coming, and my husband probably won’t be able to look you in the eye this morning.”
“And why’s that?”
She arched one perfectly shaped, raven black brow at me. “You know very well why.”
I shrugged. “He meant well bringing his stockbroker friend up here.”
“My mother-in-law doesn’t see it that way.”
“Oh, poor bastard.” I chuckled. “Did she get a hold of him?”
She laughed with me. “Oh yes, she even came to our room last night to ream him out.”
“Now I feel bad.”
“You shouldn’t. I’ve known Cy for over ten years, and he has never been anything but logical and practical and, honestly, more than a little cold.”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Come on, I know a good trail.”
Silently, I followed her back behind the house, but instead of veering right toward the stables, we went left over some rocky ground that quickly became dirt. It opened out into a larger area, and I saw other joggers. It was cold and foggy, but the green of the trees, the smell of wet earth and grass, and the gray of the sky all soothed me.
“I don’t understand,” I said as we began the slow climb of the trail, “what you were tryin’ to say before.”
“He’s different.” She grinned at me. “Cy. He’s completely changed when you’re around.”
“How do ya mean?”
“That guy yesterday—happy, smiling, warm guy—I’ve never met him before.”
“I am so lost,” I told her.
She stopped jogging and stepped off the trail, because apparently she really wanted me to hear what she was about to say. “He never laughs. He’s always serious. And that’s not to say that he doesn’t love his family. We know he does, we all feel his regard, but he’s just so driven and so focused that he comes off wooden and harsh and so lost in his own head sometimes. I can tell you that we all look forward to him leaving so the rest of us can relax and laugh and just have fun once he’s gone.”
But that made no sense at all.
“Don’t get me wrong. If I had a brain tumor, if I needed someone to tinker around inside of my skull, Cy’s the guy I would go to in a heartbeat,” she assured me. “But the face he made yesterday when he saw you playing with the dogs, his smile, the way he can’t keep his hands off you… I really had no idea he had that in him. I’m as floored as the rest of them. Lyn said being with you guys at his house was absolutely surreal.”
I squinted at her.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“No, I truly do not.”
She nodded. “C’mon, run with me.”
So I let it go. We ran in silence, and it was nice, because normally I did it alone. It was comforting to know someone else was there. I could get used to not being by myself—very easily, if I wasn’t careful.
Everyone was up when we got back, and Brett walked over to me while I was drinking water with Rachel in the kitchen before we served ourselves breakfast.
“Thank you for running with her. I don’t like her going out alone, but I hurt my knee so I can’t go anymore.”
I nodded. “It was my pleasure.”
“I went with him, actually,” she told her husband pointedly. “He was up and out already.”
He forced a smile and then asked if he could have a word.
I walked with him out to the back deck, and he leaned forward so he could look out at the yard and not at me.
“I was trying to get my brother a life, but I was a dick to you, and that was shit.”
I chuckled, and he turned to look at me. “We’re good. Don’t strain nothin’.”
He huffed out a sigh and nodded. “Let’s eat. You must be hungry. You actually did something this morning.”
“Sleeping burns calories.” I arched an eyebrow for him.
He flipped me off, and we went in. Cy was in the kitchen, and I walked over to him and kissed his cheek.
“Good morning, cowboy,” he said, making sure only his lips touched me.
“What?”
He made a face. “You’re all sweaty.”
“You like me sweaty.”
“When I’m sweaty too.” His face told me I was disgusting as he pointed away from him. “Just go over there. Don’t touch me, okay?”
“C’mere.”
“No.” He started chuckling. “Gross.”
I made a move to grab him, and he jumped back.
“Weber!”
“Here kitty.”
“No,” he said, laughing, putting the counter between him and me. “Eat or go take a shower.”
I waggled my eyebrows at him and lunged. The sound that came out of the man—laugh, squeal, shriek—was a joy to hear. He ran into the great room, went left when he should have gone right, and I had him, pile driving him down onto the couch under me.
He was laughing so hard, and I straddled his thighs and grabbed his wrists, holding them immobile over his head.
“Gimme kiss.”
But he was howling with laughter, and I gave up, releasing him, watching him go fetal instead. Standing up, I was surprised to see his entire family in the kitchen staring at me. All eyes wide, mouths open, stunned expressions on their faces.
“What?”
Angie recovered first, pressing her lips together as her eyes filled.
“It’s nothing.” Carolyn smiled at me. “Just you guys.”
I had no idea what that meant, so I shoved Cy off the couch and told him to get up and eat with me.
He was still giggling when we walked back into the kitchen.
The rest of the day was spent doing nothing. The kids were bouncing off the walls because it started to rain and they couldn’t go outside, so I told them we’d play hide and seek. I asked Angie where she didn’t want us to go, and she appreciated being asked before we started.
The little kids were easy to find because when I growled, they squealed. The others were harder, with Tristan being surprisingly bendable, able to hide in weird places, and Micah being devious. I had a good time, and after lunch, I was sitting out on the covered deck watching the rain when Mr. Benning came and joined me. He brought me a beer, which was nice of him, and took a seat beside me.
“You called me Mr. Benning all morning.”
I turned and looked at him. “Yessir.”
“It’s not needed. Call me Owen.”
“Yessir.”
“Listen, I expect to see you for Christmas, Weber. Don’t leave before that, all right?”
“I’ll try Mr.… Owen.”
He nodded. “Good. We would all really like to see more of you.”
What was I supposed to say to that?
His hand lifted and reached for my shoulder, and I smiled when he squeezed it. I could tell he had something more to say.
He gave a soft cough. “So you know, I have never, ever seen my son this happy. All his life he has been serious and driven, and I could not be more proud of his achievements or more pleased with the man he’s become. All my kids—Brett, Cyrus and Carolyn—I’m very blessed; but Cyrus, he never allowed himself to have fun, to simply do something without it having a purpose.”
I just listened.
“When he told me he was gay, he sat me down and explained it like he was the parent and I was the child. I mean, I’ve never worried about him or his choices because I’ve made some foolish ones, but he never has. He never leaps without looking, he always considers every outcome, and he’s always careful and thoughtful and smart. I have never seen him do anything spur of the moment; he’s much too practical. I honestly had no idea he could laugh like he did earlier. Even when he was a kid he didn’t laugh like that, with pure joy. He was just too serious. And I love him, I do, but as far as understanding him, that’s a whole other story.”
I understood what he was saying, but the man I knew and the man he was talking about were two totally different people.
“The men I’ve met, the men he’s brought here or introduced his mother and I to, were all very logical choices. They were much like Ross, Brett’s friend who left early this morning. They had great jobs, exceptional investment portfolios—his words not mine—and when they were here, they had their laptops out on the table first thing in the morning to get some work done. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I respect dedication and drive, but not one of them made my son laugh so hard that he cried. Not one did he have to sit next to, and not one did he kiss in front of us.”
My heart was suddenly in my throat.
“I don’t know much about you, Weber, but I have to tell you, I like what I see. And I certainly don’t want my stoic son back.” He chuckled suddenly. “I like the man who laughed at my jokes yesterday and who sat and told me about some new procedure he used in the OR and the one who’s going to bring me the beer he likes next time just so I can try it. I really like the stranger in my kitchen, and I could get used to having him around. This is selfish of me to say and I know that, but please, Weber, stick around, will you?”
“I would, sir, but I’m a ranch hand, as you know.” I smiled at him. “Not a big call for that in San Francisco.”
He sighed deeply. “Tell me. Do you care for him the same way as he so obviously cares for you?”
I nodded. “That ain’t never been our problem.”
“Dad!”
He turned as Cy came striding out onto the deck.
“Your beloved Pack is playing.” He chuckled. “Get in there, old man.”
“You see that,” Owen said under his breath to me as he leaned close before standing up. “I had no idea he even knew Green Bay was my team.”
Owen smiled at his son as they passed each other, and Cy said he would be right back in.
I waited and was rewarded with his hand on my knee and his shining eyes as he looked down at me.
“What?”
“You look really comfortable in my parents’ home.”
“It’s like a damn hunting lodge. What’s not to like?”
“Can I have that kiss now?”
“Oh hell no,” I growled at him. “You didn’t want it earlier.”
“You were disgusting earlier, but now you’re all clean and you smell good and you’re warm.”
I grunted at him as he bent down toward me, and I lifted for his mouth.
The kiss was chaste and sweet until he gently bit my lip and pressed for entrance. I made a noise in the back of my throat as his tongue slid over mine, and I took hold of his jacket. As I pulled him down into my lap, his hands flattened on my chest, and he shifted around until he was across my thighs.
“You should go in,” I told him, breaking the kiss before it flared and consumed us.
“I’d much rather stay here and kiss you.”
“Weber!” Pip squealed from the door before he ran and launched himself at us.
The kids wanted attention, and only mine would do. Since the weather had cleared enough to walk, I took three dogs and five kids for a stroll around the neighborhood. When we got back, it was time to leave since we had a long drive back to the city. Carolyn and Cy both had to work the following morning.
I was not surprised that Vanessa and Victoria loved on me hard, kissing and hugging me and putting their little heads down on my shoulder when they said their good-byes. Little girls with great big hearts just melted me.
I was surprised, however, that Angie and Rachel both hugged me tight as well. Owen clasped my hand and held on to my shoulder, and even Brett gave me the guy clench.
“Don’t be a stranger” was the last thing Cy’s brother said to me.
“My family loved you,” Cy said as we pulled away from the curb, glancing over at me for a second before he headed down the long, winding hill.
I grunted. “They were just bein’ polite.”
“No,” Carolyn corrected me from the seat behind me. “Our family is never polite, and remember what Brett and that guy Ross said about you.”
“Wait, what?” Cy asked, his voice rising as he turned again to look at me, brows furrowed. “Tell me what was said.”
“It don’t matter none.” I soothed him, hand on his thigh, squeezing before I leaned sideways and kissed him. “Get us home.”
He growled, which was adorable.
Once we were there, Cy driving well through pouring rain, Carolyn and the boys came in to have dinner, which ended up being spaghetti and garlic bread, salad and wine. I let Tristan have a sip from my glass because he had learned in class, from one of the girls who did her country report on Italy, that there, kids drank wine from an early age. I had no idea, but Cy agreed with him so he got to have a swallow of my Chianti. He decided to stick with milk.
The kids didn’t want to leave, but Carolyn insisted, promising them that they could definitely have a sleepover later in the week. I told them I would see them all the next morning, and Pip wrapped around my leg, so I had to carry him that way back to the SUV. It was nice that the rain had cleared, leaving a cold, crisp night. After they were gone, I was doing the dishes when Cy came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Tell me what my idiot brother and his friend said.”
“Nothin’ that bears repeatin’,” I assured him, leaning sideways to kiss his cheek. “Help me dry these.”
“I normally hate stubble on a man,” he told me, his voice low and sexy, “but on you it’s so fuckin’ hot.”
“’Cause you like how it feels on your ass,” I told him.
“Jesus,” he gasped, bumping me as he jolted. “Even your voice could make me come.”
I turned off the water, wiped my hands on my jeans, and grabbed him. The second I picked him up, his long legs wrapped around my waist and his arms snaked around my neck.
“How about your full-time job is fucking me?”
I snickered as I carried him toward his bedroom. “I’d be a kept man, would I?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I squeezed his ass at the same time, and he shuddered instead, head back, breath catching as he clutched at me.
“Cy?” I teased him as I dropped him down onto the bed.
He looked drugged as he lay there, sprawled across the comforter staring up at me. “I like pointing at you in a crowd and saying that he’s with me. I want to keep you and put a ring on your finger and come home every night to your face looking at me like I’m an idiot.”
“I never look at you like you’re an—”
“Yeah, you do. When I’ve done something particularly stupid, you do.”
“Well, of course then.” I squinted at him. “That don’t make no—”
“You’re focusing on one part of what I said to avoid the rest, and I get it, I do. But last time you left, really, Web, my heart barely survived.”
I sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. “Well then for crissakes, Cyrus, why didn’t you just tell me to go on and not stop and see you?”
“Because,” he said, sighing, tilting his head to look at me, “one of these days you are going to let me love you, and you’re going to stay.”
I opened my mouth, but he lifted his hand to hush me.
“Or maybe it’s time I looked for a job in Texas.”
It took a second, but the weight of his words finally sunk in.
“Oh hell no!” I roared at him, getting up, staring down at him. “I gotta look for work in places that don’t got no hospitals or—”
“Fine, a clinic. I could open my own.”
I lifted up my hands. “Your life is here. Your family is here. The hospital where you work, that people know you’re at, is here! You don’t just—”
“You can find work; I can find work.”
“Oh for the love of—”
“No!” he yelled at me, rolling off the bed, pulling off one of his lace-ups, because, of course, the man wore dress shoes on his days off, and flinging it at me.
I leaned out of the trajectory as he came around the bed.
“You’re the thing I don’t have, Weber Yates. You’re what I miss. You’re the part I only have when I know I can wake up in the morning and see your face.” He finished, reaching for me, wanting his hands on me.
“I will not have you hatin’ me because you can’t be a surgeon no more,” I barked back at him, lifting my head away and back so he couldn’t touch me. “Bein’ a country doctor in some clinic in a little Podunk town ain’t gonna make you happy.”
“You make me happy,” he yelled, shoving me back hard, and being that close to the bed, I lost my balance and fell.
He was on me fast, straddling my chest, knees on my arms, pinning me to the bed. And even though we were fighting, the thought crept in that it was hot being manhandled, and his cock was right there, close to my mouth, just beneath a layer of denim and cotton.
“No!”
“What no?” I asked, because he was suddenly smiling, and his voice had lost the sharp edge and was instead smooth and silky, reminding me of velvet.
“I am having a serious discussion with you! Do not gimme that look like you want to fuck me because it won’t work.”
I smiled up at him, and I saw him shiver. Never in my life had I been the hot guy or the sexy guy, but for whatever reason, I had a drugging effect on Cyrus Benning. I melted him, and he did the same to me.
“You could undo your belt and them jeans, slip down your underwear, and bury your dick in my throat. Whaddya say?”
“I… you… I’m going with you when you leave, Web, make no mistake. I don’t want to live like I have. I’m miserable without you, and I won’t go back. I won’t.”
Why would I argue… why? Well, I would, but later… much later. Not now, not when he had lifted to his knees, releasing my arms from being pinned, and was unbuckling his belt and shucking out of his jeans like his life depended on it.
I pushed him off me and came down on top of him, feeling his hard cock pressed between us, hearing his loud, hoarse moan, and loving the scramble of his hands over my chest as he reached for me. The man was frantic to get a hold of me.
“Now it’s my turn to fill you up, Dr. Benning,” I told him, pulling off his other shoe and yanking his jeans over the long, sculpted legs. “And I ain’t using no rubber.”
He bowed up off the bed and ordered me to hurry in a voice that I had never heard before.
“Cy?” I smiled at him.
“Oh God, Weber, move! Get the fucking lube!”
No one ever wanted me the way he did, and for a second, before he screamed my name, I wondered if planning on leaving made me the stupidest man on the planet. But when I leaned back to him, lube in hand, he walked his sock covered feet up my chest, levering up off the bed, flipped back like he was doing one of those bicycle kicks in soccer, and held the pose. The only part of him touching the mattress were his shoulders, his pink puckered hole right there for me. All I had to do was bend forward and taste it. I put a hand behind his thigh to help with his balance before I ran my tongue over his crease.
“Weber!”
“Love how you yell my name, Cy, fuckin’ love it.”
“Please, Web,” his voice cracked with the strain.
Normally, I stretched him, licked him, prepared him, and made sure he was ready for my dick.
“Just fuck me!”
Tonight it wasn’t what he wanted. Sometimes he liked it rough. He liked me to use him and pound him and make him scream. He had missed me badly.
I shoved my jeans and briefs down together, slicked my hard, leaking cock with lube, smeared some between his cheeks, spread them, and shoved my way inside his quivering hole. His body arched against mine as I drove in to the hilt.
“Fuck!”
His thighs were shaking as I folded him in half, bent over him so his legs slid over my shoulders, and thrust hard and deep.
“Jesus, Cy, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”
“Web… Weber,” he rasped, eyes locked on mine.
I had never been inside of him without a condom. “You feel so good. God, so good.”
His harsh whimper tore through me, his arms flung out at his sides trying to hold on, fisted in the comforter, and all the time begging for me to fill him up. The chanting was an endless litany of pleading.
“Grab your cock,” I growled at him.
“Don’t have to…. Going to come with you just being inside…. All I need.”
True to his word, as I plunged into him, hammering, pegging his gland, making him cry out with every stroke, he came over my abdomen, his muscles clenching on my shaft like a vise, fisting so tight I roared his name. We were loud, and it was a gift that we could be, that we were safe in his house and could be however we wanted.
I emptied inside of him, flooding his spasming tunnel, knowing it was coating him inside, spreading everywhere.
“Only you, Web,” he whispered. “You’re the only one who gets this. Ever.”
Ever.
The man was mine.
Heart, body, soul. All mine.
I was such an idiot.
“Stop thinking,” he yelled at me, holding up his arms. “Kiss me. I wanna feel your heart beating.”
I eased his legs down gently and started to lean back, to slide free.
“Don’t. I need… closer.”
And I knew what he wanted, to be inside my skin, but I didn’t say anything, just rolled forward and wrapped him in my arms, skin to skin, lips locked together as I kissed him, taking his breath, his moan, everything.
I had never been held so tight.