McLeod, Anitra Lynn - Dirty Cowboy (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Read Online Free PDF Page A

you want me to?”
    “Hell yes I want you to!” Everett wondered how he could think otherwise after what they’d done in the back of the wagon. But then again, after being discarded, it was no wonder he was a mite insecure. “Why do you think I’m getting all gussied up?”
    The grin that transformed Dalton’s face caused Everett’s breath to catch. He’d never called another man pretty, but Dalton was a compelling combination of handsome and downright beautiful.
    Dalton filled two pans at the springhead where the water was clean then moseyed on back to camp. Watching his buttocks move below the tight-fitting pants caused a glut of dirty thoughts to fill Everett’s head. His body might be clean but his mind was filthy. Given how smooth and sweet Dalton’s cock had tasted, he couldn’t wait to lick him everywhere else. Everett wasn’t a betting man, but he’d lay odds that Dalton was just as perfect between his buttocks.
    If he’d never had his cock sucked, Everett figured Dalton had probably never done a lot of things, maybe even—
    “Whoa.”
    The soap shot right out of Everett’s clutching fist, making him scramble for it in the murky light. A virgin. Oh, lordy. What if Dalton was all pristine and untouched? Rising lust was tempered by a refusal to inflict any more pain on the man. If this was, in fact, Dalton’s first time, Everett swore to take the greatest care he could muster with him.
    Everett scrubbed and rubbed and rinsed. He couldn’t believe how much more human he felt after a good bath. Sort of like he was reborn. He was trying to remember the last time he’d washed up somewhere other than outdoors. And then he remembered. Just as quickly, he pushed the memory away. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t think about his childhood or his father ever again. Keeping that deal with himself had been surprisingly easy. His father was a worthless cardsharp and floozy magnet. What he’d given Everett couldn’t rightly be called a home. It was just a rented room over a saloon. Still, it hurt like a son of a bitch when his father up and left him when Everett was just barely thirteen. A decade later and the pain still lingered. No wonder he and Dalton had connected so fast and furious—they both had a deep-seated fear of being left behind.
    No matter how much he told himself that Dalton wasn’t going anywhere, Everett couldn’t resist climbing out of the water just to make sure. Dripping and chilled by the light breeze that had picked up, Everett made his way to the edge of the trees.
    Dalton was hunkered down, feeding sticks into the fire while two pots simmered. Everett ducked back into the water before Dalton saw him.
    Damn. That was the problem with change. Good for one thing usually meant bad for another. It was good that he’d finally found what he’d been looking for all his life. Problem was, now that he had Dalton, he was terrified of losing him.
    Instinctively, he knew that if he tried to tie the man down and make him stay, he would lose him. Sure, Dalton had gripped up on him the way a burr clings to a pant leg, but that didn’t soothe Everett’s fears.
    Every good thing he’d ever had vanished. Good jobs, good places to stay, good friends—poof! Gone like money in a saloon. Just once he wanted something he could call his own. Something permanent. Something that he could treasure until the day he died. What he needed was the one thing he’d never done. He needed to put down roots. If he wanted Dalton to stay with him, he had to find them a place to stay together.
    Realizing he was as clean as he was ever going to be, Everett climbed out of the spring and swaddled the blanket around his dripping body. He wrung the water from his duds, hung them up to dry, wrapped the soap in his now clean kerchief, then ambled back to camp.
    “Sit.” Dalton pointed to crate he’d settled by the fire. He took the soap-wrapped bandana from Everett’s still-dripping hand.
    Feeling spoiled,