“What are you chuckling at?” Henry asked when he returned with the little bottle.

  Will shrugged and laughed again as Henry continued his silly crawl back around Will’s body and knelt between his legs. Henry set the bottle down near Will’s hip and slid his hands under Will’s knees.

  Will groaned in anticipation. Nothing washed away a day’s worth of regretting the decisions that made him into an outlaw like the hot, raw slide of Henry’s cock into his body.

  Henry kissed and licked his way up the tender and ticklish insides of Will’s thighs and over Will’s cock, sliding his mouth back down and sucking little pulses as he moved.

  Will stretched his legs out long on either side of Henry’s body, the unhurried pace of Henry’s mouth and tongue building his arousal even higher. He set his head back against the pillows and his hand at Henry’s shoulder, closing his eyes and letting Henry, as requested, take care of him.

  Henry’s fingers traveled up Will’s thigh and slid up over his hip. Will felt the cold, smooth surface of the glass bottle drag back down over his skin. He shivered and rocked up into his lover’s mouth. Henry moaned and Will twitched at the vibrations it sent through him. He spread his legs wider, nerves twanging as he waited for the slick probing of Henry’s fingers. But it didn’t come. Henry continued his thorough, but frustrating, tonguing.

  Henry moaned again and slipped his hand down from Will’s shaft, over his balls, massaging his thumb into the skin behind them.

  “Fuck, Henry please…don’t make me wait, come on,” Will moaned, rocking down into Henry’s hand. Henry rubbed a thumb at the base of his cock apologetically and Will finally lifted his head and looked down. In the dark, Will could make out Henry kneeling between his legs. His strong back arched up into the curve of his ass, and behind it, almost visible where the campfire outside silhouetted it through the canvas of the tent, Henry’s hand, moving inside himself.

  “What are you doing?” Will asked, mouth suddenly dry.

  “Sucking you,” Henry answered breathlessly, before sinking down again.

  “With…with your hand.”

  He pulled up again. “We never got a chance to do it like this.”

  “Oh,” Will managed, unable to pull his wide eyes away from the movement of Henry’s hand in and out of himself. “No. No we didn’t.”

  There was a familiar noise as Henry withdrew his hand. He leaned up to kiss Will again. “I need this tonight.”

  “I, umm. I ain’t sure I can. Not the way you do it to me,” Will said, nerves punching into the pleasant knot of want in his stomach like needles into skin. Henry could make him come so hard he couldn’t see straight afterward. He’d screamed Henry’s name and forgotten his own before. He was aching for that now, felt almost empty being so ramped up and not having Henry inside him yet.

  Henry kissed him again. “Trust me?” he asked gently.

  “Mm.” Will nodded.

  “This is about you,” Henry told him. “Relax. Be here. Be with me.”

  Will nodded, sinking into the feeling from before, the warm, safe feeling that Henry pulled out and wrapped around him when they were alone together like this. Like there was nothing outside of this tent. No judging eyes. No killer bandits. No dwindling stolen rations.

  Will closed his eyes and let Henry kiss him. Let Henry move his arms out of the way as Henry knee-walked his way up Will’s body. Let the kiss break as Henry set himself down in Will’s lap, sitting so that they were cock to cock.

  Henry took both of them in his slick grip and pumped his fist up and down. Will fought the impulse to open his eyes. He liked letting Henry take care of him, and Henry loved it when Will trusted him. The robbing and outlawing hadn’t worked out the way Henry promised, but Henry had never led Will astray like this––skin to skin.

  Henry shifted up, his body leaving Will’s, but his hand still tight around his cock. Will gasped at the feeling as Henry brushed Will’s cock against his body––the shiver of pleasure at the slide of the head between Henry’s cheeks while his lover searched for how they fit together. The tightness in his balls wrenched as he felt his cock dip into the warm wet of Henry’s body. Henry’s grip around him tightened and he sank down.

  “Oh! Oh!” Will grit out. He grabbed one of Henry’s thighs in one hand and knotting the other into the blankets, barely in control enough to realize that he couldn’t bury himself inside Henry this early, Henry still needed to work him in. “Shit. Oh.”

  It was so tight, so much tighter than he’d imagined. He held his breath as he tried to adjust to the feeling and tried to get a hold of himself. He’d ruin everything if he came before Henry even got him inside.

  Henry was taking his time about this too, working himself down over Will’s cock in the same halting way that he worked himself into Will. With some effort, Will loosened his death-grip on Henry’s thigh and slid his palm up the plane of skin. He could feel the muscles in Henry’s legs tightening and loosening as Henry lifted himself and brought himself back down, rocking in increments that felt like no distance at all to Will’s cock and felt like miles to the muscles clenching and unclenching under his palms.

  Henry took Will in farther, inch by inch until he must have hit that point that always made it easier and dropped suddenly with a moan that Clarence and Annie probably both heard.

  Henry pressed his hands to Will’s hips and murmured, “Just…still.”

  Will groaned, half in need, half in gratitude at the pressure holding him down. He wanted so badly to move inside Henry and he needed more than will power to stop himself while Henry took time to adjust. His hips flexed up into the hands holding him down.

  “How’s it?” Henry panted.

  “So good,” Will answered shakily. Henry blew out a breath and shifted his weight. He moved his hands from Will’s hips to the floor on either side of Will’s chest and leaned over Will.

  Will groaned. He could feel his cock moving inside Henry’s body. Feel the way the motion of Henry made his cock slide a little ways out of his lover. Henry’s breath stuttered as he kept moving, carefully angling his body until he could crane down to kiss Will.

  Will groaned into the kiss, loud enough that it surprised him and the heat of the moment was broken for an instant as he remembered Annie on guard and Clarence tied up in her tent only a few yards away. Henry moved forward and rocked back onto Will’s cock and Will suddenly lost any and all concern for anyone who may overhear them.

  He could only see the silhouette of Henry’s body hanging over him as Henry rode him. Will felt like he was flooding, like his hot blood was washing in waves through his whole body, making everything overflow. He could feel crests of warmth and pleasure all over his skin like waves licking at the shore. He gulped in breath and tried to tamp down his arousal long enough to gain some control over himself.

  Henry pressed back against him, grinding his ass down hard into Will’s hips, bringing Will in deep and hard and moaning. He grabbed Will’s hand and brought it up to his cock.

  “Come on, Will,” Henry managed. “Come on.”

  Will fisted him immediately, stroking down Henry’s still slick cock as Henry thrust up into his hand and then dropped back down onto Will.

  Henry moaned even louder and Will’s stomach twisted with desire. He lifted his knees, planted his heels and jerked up into Henry. A sound that Will had never heard before tore out of Henry’s throat and his carefully rustled up control was gone. Henry dropped down against him as Will thrust back up and with another cry they were suddenly fucking harder than they ever had. Slow tender, touches and rocking bodies were gone and replaced by digging nails and manic movement.

  The pleasure in Will’s body focused down to the feeling of Henry clenched around his cock. Will cried out as he came and Henry covered Will’s mouth with his own, absorbing the sound and rocking back harder.

  “Henry, Henry,” Will gasped against Henry’s palm as Henry kept riding him, pumping up and down his spent shaft hard as he sought his own orgasm. It was so intense it hurt a little, pricking into the edge of his fading orgasm. Will spit in his hand and pumped his wet fist hard over Henry’s cock, hard and fast with his fist tightening as he stroked up over the tip, the way that always got Henry off.

  Henry yelled out and spilled over his hand and stomach with a rumbling cry that seemed to shake out of his chest rather than his mouth, still humping up into Will’s fist and down over Will’s cock in a way that was painful to his oversensitive skin and twanging nerves. Henry dropped down hard into his lap and panted for breath for a few moments before diving down into a kiss that sent Will reeling all over again.

  Will pushed ineffectually at Henry’s arms before finally finding his voice. “Henry, please,” he managed. Henry kissed him again before lifting himself up.

  Will shivered at the feeling of his cock slipping wetly out of Henry and falling against his stomach with a shock of cold. Henry lay his body down on top of Will’s. He dug his hand into the hair at the nape of Will’s neck and kissed him like he’d been missing for years until Will recovered enough to kiss back.

  “Oh, wow,” Will panted, his voice hoarse from the drag of cool night air in his throat. He felt leaden, heavy with orgasm and exhaustion. He felt more wrung out than he usually did after he and Henry had sex. Something about the mania of being inside Henry was still sticking with him, almost like a hangover.

  “Yeah?” Henry whispered, running the tip of his nose along Will’s cheekbone.

  “Yeah,” Will said, turning his head back into the kiss.

  “You too,” Henry replied. “You’re…” he trailed off, kissing Will again.

  “I’m what?”

  “Will?”

  “Mm?”

  “I…” Henry let out long breath as his fingers crept up to the nape of Will’s neck, rubbing his hand into the short hair there and staring at him in the dark. Will let his Henry’s hand push him forward, closing the space between and bringing them to a kiss.

  “I love you,” Will whispered. The motion of Henry’s fingers in his hair stopped.

  “Will, I…” Henry tried to spit out a few more words and Will felt his heart shrink. Henry sighed. “If you got killed, I don’t know if I’d ever recover.”

  “I ain’t killed. I’m here. I’m kissing you.” Will leaned farther into Henry’s body. “I’m touching you.” He tried to ignore the lick of disappointment that ran through him, like it had after that first fast, messy tryst in the barn.

  “I’m falling asleep under you,” he chuckled.

  Annie had gotten him all riled up, thinking about him and Henry and what it all might mean between them. But this was enough. He wanted to hear Henry say it, wanted to hear the words someday, but for now, it was enough.

  “Yeah,” Henry whispered. “Good idea. Annie’s not going to stand watch the whole night through and you’ve gotta heal up.”

  “Gotta heal up,” Will agreed. Henry’s hands settled back into Will’s hair, fingertips moving against his scalp.

  Will knew that it was hard for Henry to remember that they were outlaws now and that meant that they could say and feel the things that he’d grown up knowing he couldn’t say or feel. Even Clarence stumbling around had brought out the old, skittish side of Henry from the Lucky Day Ranch that Will had nearly forgotten about in the last few months. Henry might be able to walk around laws like “thou shalt not steal” pretty easily, but he still tripped over the laws that he’d set up in his head.

  It wasn’t as bad this time, the disappointment. He knew Henry cared for him.

  “Goodnight, Henry.”

  “Goodnight, Will.”

  It was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Will woke up in the morning with Henry’s arm around his bare chest. He’d slept through the night, which meant Annie and Henry had split the watches between themselves and left him to sleep. The least he could do was scrape himself out of bed and get some breakfast up for the two of them.

  He slipped out from under Henry and, after a moment of looking, separated his own clothes from Henry’s and dressed. He grabbed the fry pan and the bag of vittles and slipped out in to the cold sting of the morning air. The sky was gray and heavy, threatening rain, but probably not snow this far down the mountain.

  Annie waved from her lookout post and Will nodded to her. She walked a ways into camp.

  “Hey, could you go untie Books? He’s gonna be cramped into a damn knot if we leave him bound up the way he is.”

  Will marveled a little at Henry and Annie’s weird relationship and how quickly they could go from screaming at each other to agreeing on nicknames for the hostage they’d been screaming at each other about.

  “Fine. Coming back in for some breakfast?”

  Annie shrugged and looked out over the horizon from her vantage point above the little dell they’d made camp in. “Suppose with the sun up now I’m the only sign anybody’s camped here.”

  “Yeah.”

  She shouldered her rifle and walked to the fire with Will. She grabbed the long stick they were using as a poker, some kindling, and one of the smaller logs as Will continued over to her tent. Clarence was sleeping like a child, with his face flushed and pressed into his hands. He even slept through Will lifting his limbs in order to tug the ropes away from him. Will still grabbed the pistol he knew Annie had stashed in her bag. No matter how young and harmless he looked, it was probably best not to leave him alone with a gun. He left the teller to sleep as he went out to fix some breakfast for the four of them.

  Will warmed his hands over the remnants of the fire as Annie silently poked at it, turning the embers over and laying kindling on them. The chill breeze slid into his open jack and he pulled it tighter around himself.

  His dreams had been dark and twisted. The little sprig of content that he usually got from waking up in Henry’s arms hadn’t been there this morning. The fact that his first task of the day had been to untie the hostage wasn’t helping. He felt a little hollow.

  Annie’s gaze was blank and tired as she placed two of the smaller logs over the fire. They listened to the dew-damp wood snap and pop in the flames.

  He had been trying so hard for the last couple of months not to wonder what his family would think of him out here. Running up at people, ladies and even children sometimes, with a shotgun. Terrifying them into handing over money that they had worked for and were depending on. And now? They’d charged into a bank, taken a man prisoner, had a shootout with local authorities trying to protect their own, and from the feel of it, he’d probably wound up with a scar. He felt like he’d been officially branded as an outlaw yesterday even though he hadn’t fired a damn shot. Today, more than yesterday or the days before, made him feel like there was no going back.

  He knew what his Momma would think. She would be horrified, wondering how her son had gotten so far from the right path. Allan would lecture and frown. Robert would get that far off look in his eye, the look he got when, somewhere in his head, he was off doing something he’d only ever told Sarah about. Sarah would know that Will wasn’t the only Kearny to steal to survive. She wouldn’t say anything, but she would come up to him later and squeeze his arm.

  Thinking about what his family might say about him being an outlaw now made him wonder what they would think of Henry. Of him and Henry. He’d been doing a damn good job of not thinking about that at all so far. Out in the middle of nowhere, between the way Henry smiled at him and the way Will caught the small, contented smile that Annie sometimes gave the two of them, like she was congratulating herself on a job well done, it could be easy to forget that there were a lot of names for men like them, and that “sinner” was probably the most compassionate.

  Momma had never been one for hellfire, and with a father lost too soon and brothers sent off to a war that only horror stories and broken men had been coming back from, Will hadn’t ever put too much stock in what he was told the Lord wanted from him. Especially because the Lord’s wishes always seemed too close to the wishes of the bitter old women in town, watching the comings and goings of widows and bachelors more closely than even God could. Besides, Henry made Will happier than God ever could have, and loving Henry didn’t hurt nobody, unlike the old women and their scriptures.

  But it was more than God against them. All the names for himself that he had learned, he had learned from his cousins Jacob and Joshua, who lived too far out in the territories to ever make it in to a church. They’d learned all those words from roughneck ranchers and herders, who probably had even less church than they did.

  And if Henry didn’t love him like he loved Henry, then maybe it wasn’t enough.

  There was a hiss as Annie dropped slices of salt pork into the skillet. Will shook himself and took the potato she held out for him. He pulled his knife from his belt, and the quiet action of peeling the skin into the fire drug him back into his own musings.

  He wanted to go home, and Henry was almost all of what was stopping him. If he took his share of the bank money and got the first train back to Minnesota, he would miss Annie, but he wouldn’t have to worry about her more than he did when he was with her. Annie was safe with Henry. They butted heads like bulls but they could handle each other. They might cuss each other till they both turned blue but Henry would never actually hurt her and she wouldn’t do nothing to hurt him. In spite of the way they aggravated each other there seemed to be a friendship there between them. They could both handle this life like he couldn’t. Will knew he could never enjoy living rough the way the two of them did. Maybe they could teach the scrawny teller to shoot and he could take Will’s place in the gang.

  Will laughed to himself at the thought of Clarence standing guard over a stagecoach robbery, then remembered Annie was sitting across from him. She smiled amiably at him and didn’t ask what was so funny about potatoes.

  He could lie. How would anyone ever find out? He could say she’d caught some sort of illness and passed away. If he went home as a widower he could probably manage to stay unmarried. He could …live in his house, surrounded by his brothers, the people they loved, and his nieces and nephews. Sleep alone in his old bedroom. Stroke his own cock with his age-spotted hands with no one near but a celluloid boy and try to dredge the feeling of hot lips and careful hands out of the murky depths of an old man’s memory.

 

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