Page 17 of Dust and Desire (Sagebrush Cowboys #5)

Alex

I arrived on Dustin’s doorstep unshowered, covered in dirt, and clutching a backpack in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.

I looked a fucking mess. But when Dustin opened that door, his blue eyes lit up like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

That sensation gripped my heart in a way I didn’t know possible and then proceeded straight to my groin. Of course.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, giving him the biggest smile I could muster. “My apartment got broken into.”

His smile faded into concern in a flash. “What?!”

“It’s fine,” I grinned, dropping my bag on the floor and sweeping him up into a tight hug. “But I might need to borrow your shower.”

He let out a small moan of delight as I held him. “S-Sure.” Then he paused. “Do you need a place to stay?”

I pulled back, kissing him softly. “I was hoping you’d offer.”

The relief that washed over his face made my chest tight. “Of course,” he said, his hands coming up to rest on my chest. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, leaning down to kiss him again, deeper this time. He tasted like coffee and something sweet, and I found myself getting lost in the familiar warmth of his mouth.

When we broke apart, both breathing a little harder, Dustin’s eyes searched my face. “Are you okay? Really?”

“I am now,” I said, and meant it. Being here with him, feeling his solid warmth against me, made everything else fade into the background. “But I should probably clean up before we go anywhere. I smell like a barn.”

A blush crept up his neck. “I... I actually don’t mind it. You smell like work. Like...” He ducked his head, embarrassed. “Like a man.”

Heat shot straight to my cock at his words, and I had to take a steadying breath. “Careful, beautiful. Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it to dinner. And I make a mean pasta.”

His blush deepened, but he didn’t look away. “Would that be so terrible?”

“No,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “But I want to cook for you. You deserve it.”

Something soft and vulnerable flickered in his eyes at my words. “I’ve never had a man cook for me before. Not like… this.”

“I hope you like Italian then,” I said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But first, that shower.” I gave him a wink. “Don’t spy on me now.”

My words hung between us, loaded with possibility and a dare. I watched as Dustin’s pupils dilated, his breathing growing shallow.

“I...” he started, then swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to.”

“Come here,” I said, grabbing his hand. I dropped my bags on the counter before pulling him to the bathroom. Pushing the door wide open, I placed him in the doorway. “You just stand right there and watch .”

I began to undress slowly, watching Dustin’s face as I unbuttoned my shirt. His eyes followed my every movement, widening as I revealed more skin, his breath hitching with want. When I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his breath caught audibly.

“See something you like?” I teased, my fingers moving to my belt buckle.

He nodded, seemingly unable to speak, his gaze fixed on my hands. I took my time with the belt, sliding it through the loops with deliberate slowness before tossing it aside. The button of my jeans came next, then the zipper, the sound impossibly loud in the small bathroom.

“You can still look away,” I said softly, though I hoped he wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to,” he whispered, his voice dripping with desire.

I pushed my jeans down my hips, stepping out of them with as much grace as I could manage in the small space. Standing there in just my boxers, I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, hot and hungry against my skin.

“Last chance,” I warned, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my underwear.

Dustin leaned against the doorframe, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Don’t stop.”

With one smooth motion, I pushed my boxers down, freeing my already half-hard cock. Dustin’s sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation I needed that he appreciated the view.

“The shower’s all yours,” he said, gesturing weakly toward the stall.

I stepped under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over my dirt-streaked skin. Through the clear glass door, I could see Dustin still watching, his blue eyes raking over my body.

“You know,” I called over the sound of the water, “I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to see me again after last night. You’ve been so shy, and I thought maybe I overwhelmed you.

Dustin hesitated, chewing his lower lip in that way that drove me crazy. Then, he seemed to snap out of it, his gaze meeting mine once more.

“Last night was w-wonderful,” he said, clearly embarrassed. Although I’m not sure if it was because of my nakedness or the conversation. “I thought you… well you weren’t here when I woke up and…

“You thought I tapped that and ran off?” I laughed, my voice echoing off the tile.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I smiled, turning toward deliberately him as I soaped up my cock. “But you’re too beautiful to hit it and quit it in one night.”

Dustin went beet red in an instant. He tried to stay focused on my eyes in a vain attempt to be modest, but his gaze dropped to my dick every other second.

Then I decided to turn around and began soaping up my ass.

But this time he could watch with reckless abandon.

He might’ve been giving me big bottom vibes, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like the view.

Besides, his cock was too beautiful not to ride at least once when I got the chance.

I spent the next five minutes teasing him in silence before I finally rinsed off and stepped out of the shower.

He handed me a towel which I wrapped as low on my waist as it could go.

Then, without putting on any of the clothes I’d brought with me, I grabbed his hand and headed for the kitchen.

But not before I glanced down at the thick cock pressed against his jeans and a growing wet spot from his excitement. I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.

“Five years ago, I was working on a farm out in Georgia for an older Italian man,” I said, letting go of Dustin’s hand and getting to work in the kitchen.

Everything I needed was in my bag and Dustin was so organized that finding pots and utensils was a cinch.

I set to work cooking as I told my story in nothing but a towel, enjoying the heat flushing in Dustin’s cheeks at my state of undress.

“He was a nice man,” I continued. “He’d moved down from New Jersey in the late nineties and had built himself a little farm where he grew the most beautiful tomatoes and more herbs than I thought I’d ever see in my lifetime.

He was by himself, so he needed help keeping up with things and working the farmer’s market.

” I glanced over at Dustin as I put the water on the stove to boil with a handful of salt.

I flipped on the small oven as well to preheat. “And he was an incredible lover.”

Dustin’s eyes widened and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Surprised?” I asked.

“I mean… a little I guess.”

“Does it bother you if I talk about my past?”

“N-no,” he said after a moment. “I’m kinda curious.”

I smiled. Most guys had a tendency to get jealous about that kind of stuff, but Dustin was just as sweet as could be.

“Well, I was twenty, and he had just turned fifty-one that summer when I signed on to help. At first, we were just friends, enjoying each other’s company.

But something about the heat that summer drove us closer together.

I remember the first time I stripped off my shirt while we were picking basil and he couldn’t keep his eyes off me.

Then, when we were at the market, he’d brush against me or let me take sips from his beer instead of getting me my own.

It was sweet and erotic in a way.” I glanced over at Dustin.

“Up until that point all my relations had been quick hookups over apps or at bars. Nobody had ever savored me before. It was such a turn on.”

The water had started to boil, and I dropped the fettuccine in, twisting my wrist at the last moment so that the pasta splayed out in a starburst.

“Nico, that was his name, invited me up to the house one night for dinner. The man loved to cook. He made all his own pasta, sauces, and pesto from scratch. He even had homemade cheese aging in the root cellar. The man was a genius in the kitchen. He taught me how to make some of the best food I’ve ever eaten that summer.

And that first night he cooked for me…” I closed my eyes, remembering the pure pleasure I felt tasting his cooking.

“Well, I couldn’t say thank you well enough. So, I kissed him.”

Dustin smiled, his chin resting in his palm as he leaned over the table. “That’s so romantic… ”

“It was,” I nodded, dropping a handful of minced garlic into the pan of melted, hot butter. “For a moment I thought I’d gone too far. But when he leaned back and took my face in his hands, he just said che bellissimo.”

“How beautiful…” Dustin translated with a sigh.

So, he knew a bit of Italian. That was definitely a turn on.

I smiled, dipping the cut edge of the crusty bread I’d brought into the pan.

I held it there, sopping up all the butter and garlic before transferring it to a sheet pan and slipping it into the oven.

A quick check on the past said I had three minutes left until it was done. Time to make the sauce.

“Well,” I said, beginning to grate my Parmigiano Reggiano into fine shreds.

“As you can imagine, it was a really good summer after that. Nico was an incredible lover. Slow, sensitive, hung, and with a lifetime of experience. He played my body like a fine instrument and practically worshipped me in the bedroom. He continued to teach me to cook and by the time the end of the season came, I was starting to think he’d ask me to stay.

” My smile faded as I added olive oil to the pan and a little more garlic.

“But when my time came to leave, Nico didn’t try to stop me.

Instead, he gave me a kiss, gifted me a small handwritten book filled with his recipes, and told me that he would always love me, but that I needed to go find my own happiness. ”

I heard Dustin’s breath hitch. “What? He just let you go?” He paused, his eyes darting back and forth. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here with me but… it sounds like you really loved him.”

“I did,” I nodded, smiling in an attempt to stop myself from crying.

I began to transfer the pasta out of the pot straight into the pan of hot butter and garlic.

“I was pretty heartbroken. And it wasn’t until a couple months later when I could finally open that recipe book that I realized why he’d let me go.

” I scooped a ladle full of pasta water into the pan before I added my Parmigiano Reggiano and cracked black pepper. “He was dying, and he knew it. ”

“No…” Dustin whispered, his hand going to his lips.

I nodded. “Cancer. And one that couldn’t be stopped.

He knew his time was limited, and he didn’t want me there to see him fall.

” I tossed the pan a few times, mixing everything together as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

“He died that winter and I made the trip back to Georgia to attend the funeral.”

“That’s so sad…”

“It is,” I agreed, pulling the now toasty garlic bread from the oven.

“But Nico told me in his letter that I was to go out and find someone to love, to live my life to the fullest in his memory.” I started slicing bread and filling plates, checking the simple flavors one last time.

“And I’ve tried my best to do that every single day. ”

I sprinkled some fresh parsley over the pasta before placing both plates on the table. Dustin got up to grab a pair of wine glasses and produced a bottle of Chardonnay that would pair perfectly with the pasta.

“Thank you for sharing that story,” he said, pouring a glass for each of us. “It’s… so beautiful. And intimate.”

“Thanks for letting me share it,” I smiled back, taking my seat still in nothing but a towel. “Most guys…” I immediately thought of Keith, my ex. “They don’t want to hear about that kind of stuff.”

“Well, good thing I’m not most guys then,” Dustin grinned, holding up his glass. “To Nico.”

I clinked my glass with his. “To Nico.”

We both took a drink before picking up our forks. I paused for a moment to watch Dustin take his first bite. He wound the creamy pasta around his fork and lifted it to his mouth. The moment he took the bite, he let out a small groan of pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god…” he sighed, seemingly on the verge of tears. “This… This is so good…”

“Be careful,” I grinned, pointing my piece of garlic bread in his direction. “Everyone thinks the way to a man’s heart is through his cock. I assure you it’s through his stomach. ”

Dustin’s cheeks flushed as he stared at me, those blue eyes twinkling. “You might be right.”

My heart jumped at his words, and I couldn’t help smiling even wider. This shy, quiet man was going to wriggle his way into my heart if I wasn’t careful. And honestly… I was starting to think I wouldn’t mind one bit.