Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
It didn’t matter. Ned O’Leary would die tonight, regardless of who touched his prick.
By the time they all sat next to a crackling fire with coffee brewing in a little pot, the sun was in its descent but Cole was nowhere near getting to speak to Ned alone. Maybe he should have been the one to take Ned away. He’d get time to question the bastard, and could have let Ned soil himself anyway.
Once everything had been set up for the night, Ned was sitting on the fallen tree trunk he was also chained to, and Cole was opposite him, staring at the flames. The blessed silence was over when Lars leaned in to whisper.
“He has a nice dick. I’d suck it if he didn’t smell so bad.”
Cole didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Shut up. I don’t wanna listen about his unwashed poker.” Cole scowled, but as he lowered his head, his gaze still strayed to Ned’s thighs, which filled his buckskin pants so well. It didn’t matter how good-looking Ned O’Leary used to be, because he deserved being fucked with a branch wrapped in nettles, not getting his cock caressed.
“You’ve been awfully sensitive since we came here,” Lars said, sipping the coffee he’d poured into his cup. “You wanna unload some of that frustration?”
“We haven’t properly washed in a week. Aren’t you ever tired? I just want to be out of these damn mountains,” Cole hissed, wondering whether Ned had overheard Lars’s veiled proposal. Perhaps the creaking of the burning wood and the wind whispering in the treetops would have been enough to keep it to only one side of the campfire.
Lars shrugged and went on. “I can do you with my hand. Healthy man, healthy desire.”
“I’m cold,” Ned called over from his spot, where he was hunched under the ridiculous coat made of a whole array of animal hides that covered him like a cape. “You got any whiskey? Shine? Any booze really…”
That was a welcome change, so Cole rose from the seat he’d made out of his duster coat, and approached his saddlebags. So maybe he didn’t want to be pleasant to Ned in any capacity, but it was as good an excuse to leave Lars’s side as any. He rolled his shoulders to ease the sting of cramps that had been plaguing him since they’d decided to come to Beaver Springs, and produced a small flask.
“As long as you promise to shut up.”
“No!” Lars complained. “The opposite. He’s barely spoken. Only give it to him if he tells us how he became the Wolfman.”
Cole swallowed, and his eyes zeroed in on Ned’s face. The matted hair and beard made him appear much older than he was. The elements hadn’t been kind and had left his skin blemished, with sore spots and bits of flaky skin on the sides of his nose. But still, this was Cole’s Ned, the first man he’d freely touched, and despite the hate burning in Cole’s heart, in that moment he realized that he did want to know how the smiling young man with freckly skin kissed by sunshine ended up as a local bogeyman.
With his throat tightening, he approached Ned and offered him the flask. “What do you say, O’Leary?”
The nod he got was too pliant, and Ned’s eyes stayed on the bottle, as if he no longer cared for anything else. “Sure, why not?”
Cole knew that look. He’d seen it the two times Tom and Zeb had attempted to curb Scotch’s drinking. They’d failed both times. Cole stilled and stepped back without thinking when Ned leaned forward, his mouth opening as if he’d trudged through the desert without a drop of water to moisten his tongue.
What a pitiful end. “You know, I remember you called Scotch useless because of his habit. And look at you now,” Cole said and shook the flask to make the liquor splash inside. So it was cruel, but this man deserved no mercy.
Ned huffed and pulled on the chain at his neck like a wild beast when it wouldn’t allow him to move any farther. “It don’t matter. Just give it to me.”
Cole’s blood boiled, but he stood still, smelling the burning wood and frost as his world reduced to the small area lit up by the glow of the flames. “You’re pathetic. Can’t believe I used to ride with the likes of you.”
Can’t believe I used to love you more than my heart could contain.
He didn’t hesitate any longer and offered the booze to Ned’s lips. The green eyes shut as Ned latched on, hollowing his cheeks as if he were trying to suck out more liquor. His lips smacked when Cole pulled the flask away, and when some of the booze drizzled into his beard, Ned opened his mouth wide, trying to gather each drop with the back of his tongue.