ranch after taking the bribe, he was sure the guys knew. But they hadn't. He kept waiting for Duff to call his bluff about the sequence of events. But no one ever figured out the truth. He thought it would have been trickier than it had been to convince the men that their target had jumped to his death, his body lost in the ocean. Setting up the scene had been easy. The target even endured being sliced on the hand and leaving a trail of blood that ended at the railing of his mansion overlooking the ocean. When he'd told the story, his whole body had vibrated with excitement. Everyone thought he was just hyped up from the mission. That night, he'd lain in bed realizing that he'd done it. He'd fooled the old coot, Duff, proving to be smarter than the rest.
Grant never knew about his arrangements with a few of their targets. It hadn't taken Craig long to realize that Marshal didn't trust him, but that was just the way Marshal was. He hooked up with Grant soon after, making sure he could manipulate the man, which in turn meant he could manipulate Duff. Grant was the favorite, the leader. He might not have been there as long as the other guys, but he was the one Duff counted on the most. That had ticked Craig off. He'd wanted to be the one to count on, but maybe Duff knew even back then that though Craig seemed solid, he didn't give a shit. He'd worked to hide the truth, and he had for the most part, but something had made Duff not trust him.
Craig worked with purpose to get food into his belly. He ate a cold can of beans and hung the trash in a tree a few hundred yards away. Sleeping in the wilds of Colorado was dangerous, but he'd slept in much more dangerous places and survived. His food was hung in a tree, and he wasn't eating near his tent. If a bear came around, he'd not be drawn to Craig's tent.
The sleeping bag he'd chosen was rated down to thirty below freezing. Before it got that cold up here, he'd make his move, showing Grant, Duff, and the rest of the guys, especially Marshal, just how dangerous he could be. The world didn't know about Wild Bluff, but once he took them down, a lot of people would thank him for making the playing field even again.
*~*~*
Roger settled in his room, wishing that Grant would stop by. Of course, Grant didn't owe him anything. They'd come together so quickly, and with few words, he wondered if Grant regretted it. He pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, feeling the need to rinse the dirt away.
The heat of the water relaxed his shoulders, and he sighed as he closed his eyes, relaxing with one hand against the shower wall. The door to the shower opened and he snapped open his eyes, taking in Grant's naked body and hard dick.
No words were exchanged as Grant stepped in and pulled Roger into a kiss. He allowed Grant to touch, lick, and kiss him. Then Grant's soaped up finger was at his ass, sliding along his crease, relaxing his opening. The digit slipped in and he clenched a bit. This was the first time anyone had breached him since Hayden.
He rested his forehead on Grant's shoulder, letting the emotions roll over him. During his time with Hayden, he really thought no one else would ever do this to him. It was his and Hayden's to share. But now Grant's finger was inside him, searching for his prostate. He arched into Grant, making his search easier.
Long fingers stroked his channel, finally hitting the spot. He groaned and pulled Grant tighter, digging his fingers into Grant's shoulder. They rocked together, Roger's balls riding high, his dick sensitive as it moved between them.
"You like?" Grant asked.
"Yes," Roger breathed out, pressing as close to Grant as he could.
Grant spun him around and pushed him against the side of the shower. His dick slid between Roger's cheeks, riding his crease hard. Roger wanted more. He wanted to feel the sting of being fucked hard.
Grant pushed Roger's cheeks together, trapping his dick as he thrust forward. It was almost
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