This is somewhat on the dark side. I refuse to give out any spoilers, so consider yourselves warned. However... not everything is quite as it seems. <g> 'Nuff said. Proceed at your own risk.

This is for Kimber, who wanted a snippet about the way Ezra wears his gunbelt. <g> I know this probably isn't what you were waiting for, blame it on my muse, she's totally ruthless. A big thank you to Sherri, for the brilliant beta'ing. Any final mistakes are mine.

He followed Ezra up the stairs, enjoying the view of cloth stretched tight across the firm buttocks before him. There was something about the way Ezra wore his gunbelt, about the low, sexy way in which it hugged those powerful hips, that made him want to spank Ezra's pert behind.

He walked into Ezra's room, waiting until the Southerner closed the door before turning his full attention on the gambler. It was hard to suppress an amused smile at the combination of barely concealed curiosity, suspicion and nervousness lurking in the green eyes. Obviously Ezra didn't quite know what to make of his request.

"Well? What did you wish to discuss with me with such urgency?" Ezra asked softly. "And why did we have to convene in my quarters?"

It was time.

Time to stalk over to Ezra, to pin him against the door, heart beating faster as the green eyes widened with sudden fear and confusion. Time to relieve him of all his guns, to tear to shreds the fancy clothes until his hands were gripping silken, smooth skin.

Oh, and how sweet, to feel him fighting uselessly to break free, to feel the compact body writhing in his arms, hard muscle rippling fiercely at his touch. Sweeter even, to silence the shout about to burst forth by kissing those velvet soft lips, to force them open and sip from the aggravating mouth at will.

Thigh between Ezra's legs, hands mapping as far as they could reach, down sweaty flanks, to the ass haunting his every waking hour, his every slumbering dream, kneading, squeezing, possessing.

And to bury himself in tight heat, to thrust ruthlessly into his unwilling victim, seeking the ultimate pleasure of taking another, of making Ezra his, whether the gambler wanted it or not. To reach mind-blowing ecstasy as he poured his seed into the other man's body, pulse, after pulse, after pulse, until he had nothing left to give.

It was time.

But he couldn't do it. Because while the darkness within his soul made him want to do all those things, the part of him that loved Ezra was so much stronger, its light vanquishing the ugliness inside, until only affection, tenderness and respect shone through.

So much better to stalk over to Ezra, to gently press him against the door, to brush their lips together in a silent plea. So much better to see the understanding dawn in those soul-deep eyes, to see the answering smile, to feel the sturdy body snuggled against his own as they came together.

And as he sighed into the welcoming embrace of his new lover, as he felt hands that were a little shaky with passion travel over his body, as he heard Ezra whisper loving words into his ear, he had one last thought before giving himself to the other man.

It was time... For love.