Lucky break clean slate.., p.11
Lucky Break (Clean Slate Ranch), page 11
They met on the strip of ground between their cabins. Shawn’s heart ached with gratitude for the thoughtful, handmade gift. “I can’t remember the last time I was given something with any real meaning,” Shawn said, barely able to get his voice above a whisper. The moment was too special.
“Happy to.” Robin’s gaze drifted to Shawn’s mouth and back up, his eyes glittering with want, and Shawn kind of wanted, too. “I’ll carve you an entire bouquet if it’ll make you happy.”
“When did you find the time?”
“I don’t sleep well at night, and I like sitting out on my porch, listening to the land whisper to me.”
Shawn blinked hard. “The land whispers?”
“If you listen the right way, it does. Carving gives me something to do with my hands. Want to see some of my things?”
Dear God, that doesn’t sound like a come-on or anything.
“What things?” Shawn asked.
“The things I’ve carved over the years. They’re in my cabin.”
“Okay.”
Belly flipping with nerves, Shawn followed Robin into his cabin, which was somehow cozier than Miles’s, and smelled like a mix of cedar and leather. And he left the door open, which made Shawn feel less trapped and isolated. A TV was mounted on the wall in front of the sitting chairs, and a large, handmade bookcase stood to the right. Instead of books, it housed carved figures of all sizes and shapes. Animals, plants, inanimate objects, most of them unpainted and in their raw, unpolished form. All of them beautiful.
“Wow.” Shawn put his rose into his back pocket so he could pick up a horse the size of his hand. The details were exquisite, down to a visible mane on the horse’s neck. “You should sell these at a craft show or something. They’re incredible.”
Robin, for all his bluster and self-assuredness, blushed. “Nah, it’s just a hobby.”
“Are you fishing for compliments? Because this is art, Robin.”
“Compliments, huh?” There was the confident, flirty Robin. “I’d love to earn another compliment from you.”
“Well, your rose definitely earned at least one.” Distant number three was catching up fast and overtaking his other two priorities, and Shawn was okay with that. It was Saturday, he’d had a long week, and Robin’s gift was so thoughtful and romantic he could spare a “compliment.”
Robin stepped closer, right into Shawn’s personal space, bringing with him the scents of cherry, leather, and horse. “Only one compliment?”
“Do a good job with the first and you might get another.”
“Hmm.”
Shawn’s pulse jumped a moment before Robin cupped his jaw in one hand and kissed him. Warm lips played atop Shawn’s. Another hand squeezed his hip as Robin deepened the kiss, licking into Shawn’s mouth. Bringing a new, more intense flavor of Robin that overtook Shawn’s senses. He breathed in the sexy cowboy, his own hands clasping the front of Robin’s polo. The kiss went on and on, and Shawn was only vaguely aware of moving. Then his shoulders hit a solid surface and—
“Ouch, shit!” Shawn pushed Robin away as something sharp poked his ass. He reached around and pulled the carved rose out of his back pocket. “I got stabbed by a thorn.”
Robin chuckled. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” Shawn was glad the rose had broken them apart, because that kiss had fried his senses a little. He was already half-hard and didn’t want to give Robin the wrong impression. As much as getting off appealed to Shawn, he really didn’t know the man that well, and Shawn wasn’t about to become another notch on Robin’s headboard—especially knowing more about his weekend clubbing history. Shawn wanted more than a sweaty weekend hookup.
“That was a fantastic compliment, by the way.” Robin glanced to the left, where a clock carved from a piece of log hung. “If we want to keep, uh, complimenting each other, we might want to go hang in your cabin. Ernie will be back soon.”
Ernie? “Oh, your roommate, right. Sure, we can hang in my cabin. Just for compliments, though, right? No other, uh, demonstrations?”
“Only what you want, Shawn.”
Shawn studied Robin’s eyes, so full of desire but also of kindness. If Robin just wanted to get laid, Shawn had no illusions the man could go find someone. But he was here. With Shawn. The lonely part of him didn’t spend too much time pondering why. “Okay.”
Rose in hand, Shawn led Robin to his cabin and they settled on the couch close enough that their knees touched. Shawn wished for a radio, or even a damned fan to break the silence of the cabin. “It’s so quiet here at night,” he blurted out.
“It can be, especially inside.” Robin settled one hand on Shawn’s knee. “It’s why I like sitting outside.”
“Because the land whispers to you.”
“Yup. Some nights she’s got a lot to say, too.”
“Like what?”
Robin quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll have to sit up some night with me and find out.”
“We’ll see. I do have to be up early for work, you know.”
“At least we’ll always have our good mornings in passing.”
Shawn glanced at Robin’s lips, wanting them on his again but too uncertain to make the first move. “We do have that. May I have another compli—?”
His words were lost beneath the hard claiming of Robin’s mouth. Shawn fumbled getting the rose onto the back of the couch and out of his way so he could grab Robin’s shoulders and hold on tight. Robin knew how to kiss, to seduce with his mouth, and he did. Very, very well. Shawn reacted instinctively to the seduction, relaxing in Robin’s arms, slowing going under. He eased onto his back and pulled Robin down with him, both of them hard in their jeans. And Shawn wasn’t scared, wasn’t nervous, because...it was Robin.
He trusted Robin, despite only knowing him for two weeks, and his body was very on board with everything happening. Robin held Shawn by the neck and hair, and Shawn wanted those hands to explore but Robin wasn’t going below his shoulders. Wasn’t doing more than seducing his mouth and rubbing their erections together, and this was as far as Shawn had ever gone with a guy.
I want more but I don’t know if I’m ready.
He was twenty-four fucking years old; he should be ready for more.
Robin broke away and rested his forehead on Shawn’s, hot breath gusting over Shawn’s kiss-bruised lips. “Hot damn, but I do love kissing you. Wow.”
“I like it, too. A lot.”
“I can tell.” He gave Shawn’s dick a deliberate grind. “But I don’t want to push you too far, too fast. This is...kind of new for you, right?”
“Yes.” Shawn wasn’t embarrassed to admit that to Robin, because they’d already sort of talked about it. His lack of experience with men. Or rather his lack of positive experiences with men, and he was so not bringing up Beck tonight or in the near future. “It’s not that I’m scared of sex with guys or anything. Before I left home, there was never an opportunity for more than stolen make-out sessions, because it was a small town. When I lived with my cousin, I worked so much I couldn’t meet people, never mind bringing a hookup to her place, and I wasn’t about to go home with a strange guy. When I did have sex, it was always with a girl, and then these last two years I didn’t—” Shawn caught himself before he admitted to living in his car. “I bounced around from place to place too much to really get to know anyone.”
Robin nuzzled his nose. “Because you aren’t a once-and-done guy like me?”
“Yes, and I’m not judging you for liking sex, I swear. I like the sex I’ve had, I just...need intimacy first.” Shawn groaned. “Do I sound as corny as I feel?”
“Not corny at all.” Robin shifted so their dicks weren’t rubbing so directly together and raised up to peer down at him. Only affection and understanding shined in his eyes. No judgment or amusement. “We like what we like, and right now I very much like you right where you are.”
“I like me here, too. It’s kind of surreal having my own space again. Space to just...exist.”
“And swap compliments?”
Shawn chuckled. “Yeah, that, too.”
“Do you think maybe you haven’t felt comfortable doing more with a guy because you haven’t felt safe where you are?”
“Oh, that’s definitely part of it. I mean, I didn’t feel unsafe with my cousin, exactly, but I was kind of forced on her, so I didn’t feel welcome, either. But here... I have friends here. People who really, truly have my back. People who will believe me if I say something bad is happening.”
Robin traced a single finger down Shawn’s cheek in an oddly electric touch. “You can tell me anything, Shawn. Past, present, anything, and I’ll listen. I like listening to you. Talking to you.”
“Kissing me?”
“Definitely that, too.” He brushed his lips over Shawn’s, his weight a comfortable blanket over most of Shawn’s body. “What can I carve for you next?”
“Surprise me.” Shawn didn’t care, because everything Robin did was a work of art, and he’d love it no matter what.
“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”
“What does my favorite color have to do with you carving something for me?”
“I’m getting to know you. Isn’t that what people who flirt and compliment each other do?” Robin wiggled his eyebrows, and Shawn kind of adored that expression. It kept serious things light and made Robin look carefree—especially when sometimes, if he didn’t think Shawn was watching, he looked so sad.
“I don’t know if I have a favorite color really,” Shawn said after a moment. “I like blue. Blue goes with everything.”
“Does it?”
“Sure.” He tugged on one of Robin’s belt loops. “Jeans are blue and they go with pretty much everything.”
“This is true. Favorite movie?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. I don’t watch a lot of movies or TV, to be honest. Mostly I read.”
“Yeah? Favorite book?”
“I couldn’t possibly choose. I read all kinds of books. Fiction, nonfiction, travelogues, biographies, you name it. Depends on my mood at the time, I guess, and I’ll go on reading splurges where a certain topic captures my attention, so I’ll find everything I can at the library and check them out.”
“Like what? For example.”
Shawn should have felt strange having this conversation on his back, with Robin on top of him, but he didn’t. It was incredibly comforting and...right. “The last big binge was true crime bios written by the victim themselves, like the girl in the box, and then that serial killer in Philadelphia in the eighties. Gary Heidnik, I think? The Daggett library didn’t have a lot of those books, but they ordered some in from other county branches.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t have pegged you for liking gruesome stuff.”
“Gruesome stuff is part of life. I’m not big on horror novels, but the things in those true crime books actually happened. It’s also an interesting study in human psychology, you know? How incredibly warped some of those perps’ minds were.”
“Makes sense.”
“Do you like to read?”
“Not really.” Robin seemed embarrassed for a beat. “Never was a fan of books, not even as a kid. I always had trouble making the words make any damned sense and barely passed classes that required a lot of writing. I’d rather be outside doing things than inside reading.”
“That’s cool. People don’t always like the same stuff.”
“We don’t seem to have a lot in common, do we?”
Shawn rested a hand on Robin’s hip. “Don’t they always say opposites attract?”
“Some do.”
“Attract or say they attract?”
Robin laughed, then rubbed their noses together in an affectionate gesture Shawn was really starting to enjoy. “Both.”
“So I have a very important question to ask you.”
“Okay.” Robin gazed down with intent in his eyes. “Hit me.”
Shawn worked to keep his expression serious. “Can you cook?”
He laughed again, and Shawn enjoyed the way the sound rumbled from Robin’s chest into his own. “Yes, I can cook. Sort of. Nothing fancy, but I wouldn’t have to exist on frozen dinners if I ever found myself living off the ranch. Quite a few of the hands can cook, and we’ve all volunteered to help Patrice over the years, but she loves what she does.”
“Mothering forty people a week?”
“Yup.”
They both went silent, and Shawn wasn’t sure who began their second round of kissing but he was glad for it. Glad for the way Robin’s taller body cocooned Shawn, keeping him safe and comfortable as they ground their erections together. Moved together in a wonderfully arousing way without pushing too hard, too far. Not enough to get off, but enough to feel it while they explored each other’s mouths. Sensual and sweet and oh so perfect. Like nothing Shawn had ever experienced before, and he liked it. A lot.
Shawn’s hands wandered first, stroking across Robin’s ribs and back, along his spine as he arched and ground. Robin mostly kept to Shawn’s neck and shoulders, less freedom to touch from his position on top with half of Shawn’s body hidden by the couch cushions. The fun bits weren’t hidden, and Shawn silently thanked Robin for his restraint, when Robin had to crave an orgasm as badly as Shawn did.
Why am I resisting him so hard?
Because the last time he’d said yes, his entire world had imploded in the aftermath, and he couldn’t risk losing this beautiful slice of heaven he’d found at Clean Slate. He really shouldn’t be doing this now, but it had been so damned long since someone had taken care of him like this. Put Shawn’s needs above his own.
The endless kiss left Shawn panting and desperate when Robin finally pulled away, his mouth puffy and damp. Pupils blown. He stopped rubbing against Shawn, too, leaving their groins pressed close. “We need to stop,” Robin said. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”
“Same, but it’s too soon.”
“Okay.” Robin kissed his forehead and nose before lightly brushing their lips together. “This was wonderful.”
“Yeah, it was. Thank you, though, for, um, stopping?”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Robin helped him sit up, which was a tad uncomfortable with his raging boner, but at least Robin had the same issue. “I respect limits, Shawn.”
“I know. I do. It just can’t be easy for you. Going slow.”
Robin shrugged, never losing his easy smile. “It’s different but worth it. When I first met Xander, it was instant attraction and desire, and we had sex within twelve hours of knowing each other. At first, all we really had in common was sex, and in that first year we were together, we hit a lot of rough patches trying to figure each other out. Maybe if we’d gotten to know each other first, we wouldn’t have fought as much as we did that first year.”
“But you worked things out.”
“We did. But I’ve always regretted the fights, because they were as passionate as our lovemaking.”
A bolt of alarm shot through Shawn’s gut. “The fights weren’t physical, were they?”
“Lord no. I mean, Xander threw a book once, and I might have punched some drywall but we were never physically violent with each other, I promise. The only two times I ever hit someone else was during drunken bar brawls.”
“You were in drunken bar brawls?” Shawn didn’t like knowing Robin had punched people before, but people did do pretty stupid shit when drunk.
“Yeah. Strangely, both the guys I punched were coworkers, but tempers can really get up when you’re traveling in close quarters with bull riders.”
“You...punched a bull rider?” Wait a second. “You worked with bull riders?”
Robin pressed his lips together, expression pinched, as if unhappy he’d revealed such a thing. “Yeah. Part of my old life, and how I met Xander. Lucky’s Rodeo was a traveling attraction. We went to state and county fairs all over the Midwest and South, put on trick riding, roping, and skill demonstrations. I was with them over eight years. Left after Xander died.”
“Wow.” Shawn was impressed Robin had lived a nomadic life for so long, putting on a show for crowds of strangers. “It was your dream job of working with horses?”
“Yeah, it was. Loved everything about it, especially being able to travel. See the United States firsthand, instead of just in books or on TV. There’s nothing quite like coming up on the Rocky Mountains for the first time.”
“I can’t imagine it.” Shawn had never lived outside of Nevada or Northern California, much less traveled across the country, and he envied Robin that experience.
Robin still seemed down and a bit wistful over his old life with the rodeo. Shawn got the impression his past was a tender subject, so he stopped pressing on the bruise. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“You’re welcome. I should probably go.”
Shawn kissed him at the door, which did wonders to reengage his flagging erection. After Robin left, he bolted into the bathroom to jerk off. Hand on the wall over the toilet, Shawn fisted his erection, closed his eyes, and remembered how it felt when Robin kissed him. Rubbed against him. Made love to his mouth in a way that was both aggressive and tender. Imagined this was Robin’s hand on his dick, stroking him just right, no thought for anything other than Shawn’s pleasure.
“Oh shit.” Shawn bit his forearm as he came, the release washing over him like a breaking wave—a powerful force that soothed into a calmer, rolling pleasure. “Damn.”
It had been ages since his own hand had felt so good, and it had everything to do with Robin. His kindness and kisses and expressive eyes. The way he looked at Shawn and saw him.
He carved me a rose.
Shawn cleaned up so he could fetch his rose and sniff it. It smelled like wood and paint, but also like a promise. A promise to be gentle with Shawn’s heart as Robin slowly but surely began to steal bits of it for himself. And Shawn was very much okay with that. He was finally in a stable place where he could stay for a while. Find safety and friendship, and maybe even offer his heart to another person.
