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He was in hard-core lust and a shit-ton of like, right? There was affection, sure. He’d known Dalton forever, and there was a lot to be said for knowing you were wanted. Desired.

“You okay? I mean, this is cool?”

“Hell, yes.” Tank relaxed, muscle by muscle, clearing his thoughts out to stay there with Dalton in the moment. “You’re amazing, honey.”

“Thank you.” Dalton heard him, the cowboy melting beneath him.

He kissed Dalton’s neck, then settled in, one arm across Dalton’s middle, his worn-out cock pressed to Dalton’s hip. A good place to nap.

They’d have pizza later.

Much later.

Chapter Twelve

DALTON WOKEup and looked at the clock. He had time to take a dip in the hot spring pool, maybe get a beer at the bar across the bridge.

Maybe he’d be able to not think about what he’d just done. Maybe he’d think about it, over and over.

Tank looked… oh God. Like heaven—dark lashes heavy against his cheek, thick cock lying dormant on his thigh.

Dalton ached in the best possible way, his body telling him that he’d been stretched and spread wide. By Tank. He wanted to scream. Dance. Run away.

Something.

He headed to the other room and grabbed his clothes and trunks, not bothering to try to be quiet.

When he turned around, Tank was standing in the doorway. Watching him. “Hey.”

“Hey, man. You want to go have a soak? Maybe a beer?” He wandered over, drawn to that amazing bod.

“A soak would be great.” Tank grinned. “The pool is awesome.”

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d hear me moving around.”

“I did.” Tank waved a hand. “Let me get my trunks.”

“You said you get towels down there?”

“Yep. They’ll give us some on the way in, and we get tickets every day, so we’re good to go.” Tank left him for a few, but came back in swim trunks and flip-flops and a Hawaiian shirt.

Dalton blinked. Wow. That was a vacation picture.

He grabbed his phone and took a shot. Bubba would love this.

“Not posting it on the internet, are you? I need to strike a pose.”

“No posting. Only sharing with Dustin. I swear.” He knew better.

“Cool.” Tank pinched his ass on the way by. “I think we might both have some bruises. Good thing we can blame it on the job.”

“We’ll soak it out, and then we’ll try the short-go, hmm?” Oh, he was clever, wasn’t he?

Tank lit right up. “I could do that. With some food in there.”

“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. My muscles are wanting a soak.”

Tank’s grin slid into something a little naughty. “Uh-huh. I love that.” Tank waggled the room key at him. “Passes are in here.”