There were moments - more and more as their days together accumulated - when Goodnight wanted to yell damn propriety and do as he pleased. It was hard to break from what had been bred into him, and harder still to come to terms with the risks it would present to step out with Billy the way he might have stepped out with a young lady back before he'd worn the gray. They could handle themselves, of that he had no doubt. But how long before accusations of deviancy flew? Even out here, on this frontier, judgment would find them.

And he could not bring that to bear on Billy. He would not.

As Billy sat up, Goodnight tried to get them closer to the headboard. He lost his fingers in Billy's hair as his mouth moved, leaving a bruise on his collar. "Oh Billy," he sighed, back arching as Billy filled him, stretched him, with tender demand.