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Durango, Cuba, Wichita Falls, now Hunt County before heading to central Texas to celebrate cowboy Christmas. Then he’d be in his house for a month, just driving out for the events.

He hadn’t invited Tank to stay with him there yet, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to be disappointed if Tank had other folks he wanted to see in Texas.

Of course, if he didn’t invite, then he couldn’t whine about it not happening, could he?

He shook his head, his chest pressed to Tank’s, which was a comfort right now, at any rate.

“Shh, baby. We’re good.” Tank was still asleep, mostly, patting his butt.

Honey to baby was pretty hopeful, right? He thought so, but who in hell knew? There was this little voice in the center of his brain that expected Tank to just decide he was a kid again. Stupid, wasn’t it? Because Tank had never once made him feel that way, not since they’d hooked up, but hearts weren’t always logical, were they? Dalton kissed Tank’s jaw, and then he slipped from the bed, did his business, and started coffee. The humidity was like a blanket, just weighing him down.

“You okay?” Tank asked it from the bed, morning gravel in his voice.

“I am. Coffee?”

“Please.” Tank rolled up, scrubbing his hands over his scalp.

He made one of the cinnamon coffees for Tank, knowing he loved those best. When Tank came to him, he exchanged the coffee for a kiss. He loved how fuzzy that face was first thing in the morning.

“Mmm. We have somewhere to be this morning?”

“Not until this afternoon.” He slid into bed, leaning their shoulders together once Tank joined him. “You want to do something?”

Tank set the coffee aside. “I can think of a bunch of things.”

“Can you now?” This was one of his favorite things. The tease. “Breakfast?”

“Mmm. That too, eventually.” Tank slid those callused hands over his chest and belly. “Love how smooth and shaved you are, baby.”

Dalton groaned, flexed a little for Tank’s edification.

“I do. Must feel great under your clothes.” Tank bent to lick a line down his chest.

“Damn….”

Tank’s tongue was like a little line of fire. That hot mouth worked down to his belly, then up again, and Tank licked at his nipples, each in turn. He gasped, loving how that sent fire up inside him, tugged at his balls.

When Tank bit one nipple it did more than tug.

He shook his head, but fuck, that felt good, buzzed him down to the bone.

Grinning up at him, Tank moved to the other side, then nipped there too.

“Toothy bastard,” he groaned.

“Love the way you taste.” Tank licked, then sucked. He reached up and held on, fingertips digging in. He rubbed Tank’s scalp, then gripped those wide shoulders. Everything about Tank made him shudder, and his cock was hard as a rock.

They rolled to their sides, and Tank grabbed his ass with one hand, squeezing, the touch hard enough he’d feel the marks later when he rode.

Tank nuzzled in against his neck, lapping at his skin.

“Tingles.” He arched a little, his hips rolling up toward Tank’s.

“Mm-hmm.” Tank nibbled too, and his cock rose higher. “Love how you need me, baby.”

“Tank.” He arched right up, his dick wanting attention. “Please.”

“I got you. I got you.” Tank cupped his balls, rolled them.