40. Phoenix
Phoenix
O n our flight home, I see Walker scrolling through his emails using the plane’s wi-fi. His mouth is set in a grim line, telling me it’s more bad news. Sure enough, he hands his phone to me and I read the most recent sponsor email.
Another sponsor has dropped him.
This makes four.
Walker had an unusually high number of sponsors to start with, but he relied on them. And now we’re down to three despite LXR staying on board.
Of course, they all deny they’re dropping him because he’s gay, instead saying that it’s because he won’t be able to finish this season and they need their brands represented.
Neither of us bothers to mention they sponsor multiple riders so Walker not competing hurts them very little, if at all, or that we’ve known his season was over for almost three months and they’re only just now deciding to revoke their sponsorship.
They also balk at a coach dating his rider, and while that’s a valid concern, as Mack pointed out, this sport doesn’t have a rule against it. And technically , we were a couple before I became Walker’s coach.
I hand his phone back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” I mumble in his ear.
It’s on the drive home that an idea strikes me.
“What if I finally take Jake’s advice and turn my stock contractor gig into a legitimate business?” I ask Walker. “If I make it an LLC, I can become one of your sponsors and potentially grow that business.” The more I talk about it, the more excited I become.
But Walker feels differently.
“I appreciate that more than you know, Phoe, but that’s too many eggs in one basket.
I’m looking so forward to having you on the road with me.
And you make me a better rider, but I don’t want to take more from you or put that pressure on us.
You can’t be my boyfriend, my coach, and my sponsor,” he argues, bursting my bubble.
“Why the hell not? It makes total sense. Who would have your best interests at heart more than me? Your health and safety are my top priorities because I have plans for you that extend beyond the ring. All the other sponsors just care about your wins so you bring more attention to their companies.”
The reality is, being a cowboy is fucking expensive. If we don’t find sponsors to fill the vacancies, Walker most likely won’t be able to compete next season regardless of the training we put in because now I know he won’t take my money.
“I’ll find others,” he says, throwing his hand over the console in my truck to drag his palm across my dick. “You know the only thing I want to worry about tonight?” he asks seductively, making me step a little harder on the gas pedal.
“What’s that? ”
“How fast I can get you off.”
The gravel in his voice almost does it right then. My hips push up into his hand, immediately wanting what he’s offering.
“That’s a dangerous game to play while I’m driving, DeVille,” I admonish half-heartedly.
“What’s the matter, Harding? Can’t rein in your desire for me?” he teases.
“I’ve kept it reined in for the last two days while people watched us, judged us, fawned all over you, groped you, and begged you to take your clothes off. Consider my reins snapped by this point,” I grit out.
“Good. That’s exactly how I like them,” he says, rubbing me harder through my jeans.
It’s only six in the evening as I finally pull into our driveway. We were so stressed and exhausted last night after everything that had happened, we fell into bed in each other’s arms and promptly fell asleep.
I guess Walker’s libido wants to make up for a night without an orgasm.
I barely get the truck in park before Walker launches himself over the center console to the backseat.
“What are you do—” I don’t get to finish my thought before he’s tugging me toward him. I laugh as I push myself between the seats to give him what he wants, which apparently, is me in the backseat with him.
“Strip,” he commands. “There’s not enough room in here for me to do it for you.
” He wastes no time relieving himself of his own clothes.
As soon as my boots, socks, jeans, and boxers are off, he’s straddling my lap.
We’re both already hard and my God, the sensation of his cock sliding against mine has me seeing stars.
“ Fuck ,” I moan into his mouth as he slides across my lap. The friction he’s creating has me going out of my fucking mind. My hands fly to his perfect ass. Tight, round, and hard, I grip him with bruising force.
He reaches between us with an open palm and spreads our mixed precum around both our heads. Not satisfied that there’s enough for his hand to move easily, he tears at a lube packet with his teeth.
I can’t help my laugh. “The hell did that come from?” I ask.
“Wasn’t sure if we’d get an opportunity, but I wanted to be ready just in case,” he explains through his panting breaths. Any comment I was going make is cut off when he begins jacking us together in his fist, hard and fast.
I don’t know how I survived for eight years without this…don’t know how I survived without him.
With a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, I pull Walker to me, sucking on his lower lip as he continues to grind on my lap.
Knowing he was already primed, I’m not surprised when a couple minutes later, he whines my name. God, I love that sound.
“ Phoe, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me, baby?”
“Yes. Fuck yes,” he breathes before the sexiest series of groans erupts from his chest as cum erupts from his cock.
My body gives me no choice but to follow suit as his cock continues to leak onto mine. I grip his ass again, my fingers trembling as they dig into his flesh. And I come…and come…and come.
Finally spent, my head falls back against the headrest of the backseat.
“Holy shit. How do you do that to me?” I ask, completely in awe over the way my body responds to him .
Bringing his hand to his mouth, he licks my cum off the back of his knuckles and I swear my dick twitches despite being spent and my balls drained completely dry.
“You were made for me,” Walker answers simply. “You’ve been marked as mine since the beginning of time. Your body knows it. My body knows it. And now, thanks to that interview,” he kisses me, the taste of my own cum still on his tongue, “ everybody knows it.”
We spend the evening checking in with Kevin who told us he’d happily take the house at the back of the property and was supposed to move in while we were gone. Everything looks great…the man is the quick learner I’d thought he was after interviewing him.
Then Walker and I shower, make dinner, and watch a movie. By the time we go to bed, he’s ready to sleep…my brain, on the other hand, won’t turn off. Still awake at two in the freaking morning, I grab my phone like any other addicted human and start doom-scrolling.
The first place I go is LXR’s page. Their interview has been posted and people are tagging them in all their photos from the meet and greet.
There are tons of comments, so I start at the top.
User887234: Wouldn’t be surprised if those two are expecting by the end of the season.
I snort quietly, unable to tell if I should be offended or complimented while I scroll a little further.
R3dWhite) (No disrespect, I love both riders)
User449691: Between that ass and those lips, DeVille’s the only reason I watch the rodeo. My God. He could suck a watermelon through a water hose with those things. Harding’s a lucky guy. *heart eyes emoji*
ChilhowieCowgirlCutie: I can’t think of a better sandwich to be in.
RopinFiend: @ChilhowieCowgirlCutie I don’t think you have the right equipment.
Buckin’nF*ckin : I knew DeVille’s into dick. He’s too pretty.
RodeoRider543 : Sucks to hear that about Harding. Dude was a good rider .
That last one gets me…like I can’t be a good rider and date a guy…as if they’re mutually exclusive.
Finally, I have to close the app.
Basically, what I take away is that we aren’t alone. Sure, not everyone is on board, but fuck ‘em, we don’t post our opinions on who they’re dating.
I spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to get Walker more sponsors.