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The Man Who Loved Cole Flores (Dig Two Graves 1)

Page 69

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Ned had followed Cole’s cues, and that was where his trust led him? His first instinct was confused anger, but the shine in Cole’s eyes told him the man didn’t mean nothing by it, and the fact that some of the drunk miners gathered in the corner sniggered at them didn’t matter. No one knew them here, and they were free to enjoy each other's company as they saw fit.

Ned pushed at Cole’s chest, not even trying to hide his laughter. “You’re dumber than a sack of potatoes, you know that?” He was still catching his breath after dancing so fast, but the night wasn’t yet over, so he threw a coin onto a tray held by a plump youth and picked up a small glass of liquor, letting it burn his throat. “What next? You gonna kiss me?” he asked, getting rid of the empty glass.

The smile dropped from Cole’s mouth, but instead of talking nonsense again, he leaned close and whispered, “Have you ever been kissed?”

Ned stalled, his gaze swiping over Cole’s plump lips. They’d kissed more women than Ned knew by name and surely tasted so good the ladies went mad if they couldn’t feel their touch again. Ned’s head was fuzzy enough for him to wonder what it would be like to press his own mouth into that soft—

“Need to piss,” he muttered, and it was high time, because the music had slowed down and dancing together would have got awkward.

“Good idea,” Cole said and slapped Ned’s back as they pushed their way between the swirling pairs. Outside they were greeted by darkness so complete Ned had to blink several times before his eyes got used to the change in illumination and revealed the box-like shapes of miner’s homes and the larger buildings standing on either side of the road.

It was quiet out there too.

So quiet that his ears echoed with the sound of the accordion even when it died down in the distance. The moon peeked from behind the clouds, revealing several drunk men sleeping on porches, and nothing beyond that. The dance was still ongoing, and Ned spotted lights in the windows of the cathouse, but the town had gone to sleep. All the better, because he did actually want to piss.

A few steps more, and he opened his pants behind an empty shack close to the general store.

The liquor kept him warm, but deep in the night, the chill still tickled his skin. Ned swallowed, leaning against the wooden wall with one shoulder, his eyes so tired he let them shut for a moment, only to look up when he heard the distinct ripple of piss a few steps farther.

Cole let his head drop to his nape and exhaled, holding his prick out to water the grass by the shed with a healthy stream of his own. Even though Ned had seen Cole’s dick several times by now, he still couldn’t help but steal a glance. An inappropriate curiosity all men shared.

Ned looked away when he’d lost balance and almost pissed on his own boot, his body going up in flames for no good reason. He couldn’t explain why it sometimes did that when Cole was around, why his heart did somersaults as they both relieved themselves in the dark. He’d lost his wits, and stood still until he finished, unable to say anything entertaining while stuck with a deep need to do so.

Cole tucked himself in and stretched, his face in the shadow as he stumbled away from the place where he’d just urinated. “What?” he whispered, spreading his arms wide.

Ned quickly buttoned up his pants and shrugged, his head buzzing from the amount of liquor flowing through his veins. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re staring,” Cole said and took careful steps back, staring at Ned, as if he didn’t care that he might drop into some hole or hit one of the cabins that surrounded them like hay in the stable.

Ned followed like a lost lamb, even though he’d been safer without a friend like Cole. He couldn’t bear being left behind. “Was just making sure you didn’t piss on my leg.”

Cole gave a low chuckle, stepping into a narrow path between two rows of shacks. His tall, dark silhouette melted with the shadows, prompting Ned to speed up and walk farther away from the lit-up tent, into the gap between two identical cabins. Ned could no longer see him, and hurried into the walkway that wasn’t broad enough for a man to stretch out both his arms. There Cole was, leaning against a wooden wall, waiting. A shiver went down Ned’s back. They were no longer close to the main street, and the sound of dancing music had become distant, as if it came from beyond the horizon.

Cole cocked his head, breathing in the crisp air. “You didn’t answer my question.”


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