Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders 5) - Page 19

Isn’t that what you did today? Pushed Trevor to see how far he’d go with you?

Yes.

Fuck, he was a selfish bastard. He and Trevor were used to each other’s antagonistic behavior, poor Chassie wasn’t privy to how they’d normally settled their differences. Nor was she aware that Edgard and Trevor had ended up in dozens of knockdown, drag-out fistfights in their years together.

The last time they’d fought, Trevor’s need to win had been particularly vicious.

Edgard’s surrender consisted of allowing himself to be tied naked to the slats in the horse trailer, standing, his ass level with Trevor’s erect cock. Trevor had f**ked him hard; hard enough bruises striped Edgard’s thighs. Trevor f**ked him twice like that, not letting Edgard come, making him beg. Then Trevor released the ropes and sucked Edgard off to the most explosive orgasm he’d ever had.

Thinking about Trevor sucking you off isn’t helping you stay neutral about this situation.

Edgard willed his dick to quit pulsing, determined not to give into Trevor’s need to provoke him.

Sex would be off-the-charts fantastic, a little voice prodded him.

No. The aftermath would suck. Not only would Trevor blame him for them f**king like dogs, but the person it’d hurt the most was Chassie. And they’d both hurt her enough already.

But Trevor didn’t swagger in, full of fire. He merely walked to the far side of the stall, several feet away from Edgard and draped his arms over the top of the wooden partition.

Meridian was restless. She ignored her owner and flicked her tail in annoyance at nothing.

They didn’t talk; they didn’t fight. They didn’t fill the void with chatter; they didn’t hurl accusations back and forth. They just stared at the hay-strewn stall and skittish horse in hellish silence.

A solid twenty minutes passed. Edgard timed it in fifteen-second intervals so it stretched out like twenty hours.

When Trevor ran the back of his hand across his cheek where Edgard’s beard had abraded the skin, another punch of guilt tightened Edgard’s gut. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Edgard let the moment linger. “So what now?”

“I dunno. Chassie left for a day or two. Said she needs time. Can’t say as I blame her. This whole thing is majorly f**ked up.”

“But she is comin’ back?”

“Says she is.”

“Good.”

Trevor finally looked at him. “Don’t f**k with me, Ed. I ain’t gotta lotta patience left today.”

“I’m not.” Edgard shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, honest to God, Trev, I didn’t plan for that to happen. I just…” This was one of those times when translation was a bitch. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words for it. “Given all the shitty things we used to do to each other, I’m sure you don’t believe me.”

Trevor spit tobacco juice on the ground. “Know the strange thing? I do believe you.

Besides, we both knew it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Edgard was shocked Trevor had admitted that much.

“But see, I don’t know how to handle this stuff between us any better now than I did three and a half years ago.”

“You and me both.”

More uneasy silence.

Finally Trevor sighed. “I can tell you got something else on your mind.”

“How?”

Trevor gestured to the hand Edgard jammed in his hair. “That hair thing. You still do it when you’re agitated. I remember you used to do it a lot around me.”

Jesus. It killed him that Trevor hadn’t been as aloof as he’d pretended. Or maybe Edgard had been so self-centered that he’d been aloof to Trevor’s perceptiveness.

“So spill it since we’re already hip deep in shit.”

Edgard caught himself touching his hair and dropped his hand. “I want you like f**king crazy, Trev. That hasn’t changed.”

“I know.”

“But do you know that I’m not gonna do anything about it?”

Trevor’s suspicious gaze snared his.

“I won’t be making moves on you while Chassie’s gone.”

That blue-eyed stare narrowed further.

“Betcha think that’s contrary to my behavior today?”

“Maybe a touch.”

Edgard laughed. “It’s true.”

“Lemme see if this washed-up rodeo cowboy has this right. You want me. You came all the way to Wyoming from Brazil so you could have me. Now that my wife knows what we used to be to each other, and she’s gone…you’re sittin’ on your hands?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna ask why, but why?”

“I’d actually hoped to feel nothin’ when I saw you again. You are everything I remembered you to be, better actually, probably as a result of marrying Chassie. She is…”

“Is what?” Trevor asked sharply.

“Sweet. She doesn’t deserve this. I never want to see that horrified look on her face again.”

That comment sent Trevor back into full retreat.

Great.

After a while, Trevor said, “Know something funny? Chassie wants us to talk. She thinks it’ll help if we get everything out in the open.”

“So she doesn’t realize that was our issue? That we couldn’t be open?”

Trevor frowned. “First time you’ve said ‘we’ in that old argument, Ed. You always blamed me for us not holdin’ hands and shit.”

“I’ve learned the hard way maybe you were right about the kinda baggage other people hide when they’re showing a different face to the world.”

When Edgard didn’t elaborate, Trevor demanded, “You gonna explain that comment? Or you gonna sit there with that smug-ass look and make me guess?”

“Trying to explain it when you’re in a piss-poor mood would be a waste of breath.”

Edgard gave Trevor a cool once-over. “And for the record, I’m not acting smug. I’m just as screwed up about all this with Chassie as you are.”

“Right. I’m sure you’re happy as shit.”

Seething, Edgard snapped, “You never had the balls to tell me how you felt when we were together every goddamn day, so don’t you ever f**king presume to tell me anything about the way I feel now when you haven’t seen me for three and a half f**king years.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Tags: Lorelei James Rough Riders Billionaire Romance
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