Chapter 3
Chapter Three
FLYNN
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said in disbelief as my horse reached the final bend in the steep dirt road that signaled what I’d already known for a while—that I’d reached my destination.
Black Hills Ranch.
My temporary new home until the urge to move on hit me.
Normally, I would have taken in the sight of the working ranch and automatically focused on the ranch hands, the equipment, the different buildings, but mostly the horses. They were part of the reason I was here, after all. A person could tell a lot about a ranch by the way it cared for one of its most important assets… the horses. The animals were invaluable in mountain terrain. They could access places that no ATV or 4x4 ever could.
So yeah, I should have been focused on the horses, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the Range Rover sitting in front of a dark brown, rustic two-story house that had probably seen better days. The mere design of the house had me suspecting that it was at least a hundred years old, and with all the fixing and patching it had undergone over the years, the thing would be there for another century.
Even if I hadn’t recognized the Range Rover immediately, I would have noticed it anyway because I’d seen the expensive SUV in a parking spot near the convenience store before I’d found the young man and his tormentors. It hadn’t exactly fit into a street lined with rugged pickup trucks covered in mud and sporting heavily treaded tires. And since Eden wasn’t near any main highway or interstate, there probably weren’t a lot of tourists itching to explore the run-down town.
Although I hadn’t seen the young man I’d encountered in the alley few days earlier drive off, between the kind of clothing he’d been wearing and the fact that the Range Rover had been gone when I’d left the alley, I’d already known the vehicle had to be his. I just hadn’t expected to ever see it or him again.
God, I hated thinking about him without having a name to go with the face that had haunted my dreams every night from the moment I’d met him. As I’d jacked myself off in my sleeping bag the last few nights, I’d wanted a name to whisper as I came deep inside him while fucking him beneath a canopy of stars. I’d been tormented with images of him riding me, the sway of his graceful hips, his lust-filled eyes holding mine as his ass gripped me so tight that I wanted it to go on forever and also end as soon as possible so I could watch his body jerk with pleasure as I thrust up into him. With his cum spattered over my lower body and mine enveloping us both deep inside of him, I’d had this split second where I’d been so certain it had all been real only to come to my senses to find just my cum smeared all over my hand and abdomen. I was the only one breaking the silence of the forest around me with all my panting and grunting that accompanied the aftershocks.
“Damn it,” I muttered as I dismounted and loosened my horse’s girth enough that the saddle would stay in place but would also give my mount some relief from the pressure along the sensitive skin just behind his front legs.
The first thing I needed to do was find my new boss or the ranch’s foreman and introduce myself.
Unfortunately, my body wasn’t listening to my brain, and I ended up at the base of the steps for the wraparound porch. I dropped my horse’s reins to the ground, which was the automatic signal for him to stay where he was, and then I was climbing the steps. The front door looked a million miles away, yet my heart was racing with what I’d find on the other side of it.
My palms were sweating when I pulled my hat from my head and then knocked on the door. I glanced behind me to see if anyone had noticed my presence, but everyone was doing their own thing.
I knocked again.
“’Mumin,” I heard someone call out from inside the house. I couldn’t make sense of the words but figured on a working ranch, people were coming and going all the time, so I reached for the doorknob.
“Hello?” I called as I scanned the quaint kitchen. It was somewhat outdated but clean. There were small knickknacks here and there, but what caught my attention was two very old, very used mugs sitting in the middle of the kitchen table with an old-fashioned carafe, probably for coffee. It was a strange centerpiece to be sure, but who was I to judge? It wasn’t like I knew what passed for interior decorating skills, even in a refurbished farmhouse. It smelled heavenly, though. Apple pie maybe?
“’Ngon.’”
The response to my greeting still made no sense, but it didn’t matter. I’d already started searching out the stairs because I could tell the voice was coming from below me.
I easily found the basement door but when I opened it, I was greeted with a huge laundry basket that appeared to have a significant amount of wet bedding in it. I couldn’t see the face hidden behind the stack of laundry that had to weigh a ton. Disappointment went through me when I looked down and all I could see were skinny legs in black leggings and the hem of a gray sweatshirt that looked several sizes too big.
All the anticipation that had been building from the moment I’d seen that car outside changed to irritation. As far as I knew, the guy could be long gone. The Range Rover’s presence didn’t mean the enchanting man with the unique eyes was anywhere on Black Hills Ranch or even in Wyoming anymore. After the way he’d been treated in Eden, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been on a plane by that evening.
The stairs leading up from the finished basement had some lighting, but it wasn’t particularly bright. Without thinking about it, I reached for the laundry basket, not giving its owner any kind of warning. The basket was as heavy as it looked so as I took it, I lost my balance. I would have recovered quickly if the person on the other side hadn’t been struggling to hang on to the basket.
Between my lack of verbally offering to take the basket before I actually did so and the other person not releasing it, there was no avoiding the disaster. I heard a sharp shout as the person began to fall backwards, releasing the basket in the process. Thankfully, my instincts kicked in and I released my hold on the basket and reached out to grab the flailing hand that was trying to grasp the banister. Wet laundry and the plastic laundry basket hit me in the face in the process.
I managed to get hold of the hand, but it didn’t do either of us much good. All I managed to do was wrap my arms around the other person so I could protect their body with mine as we tumbled down the stairs. Although the accident had taken mere seconds, it felt like slow motion. By the time it was over, I was crumpled up against the banister and we were both nearly halfway down the stairs.
Despite my own bumps and bruises and a wet sheet covering my face, I was more worried about my unwitting victim. “Miss, are you hurt?” I asked. She was lying half on top of me and only managed to answer my question with a groan. Fearing that she could seriously be injured, I tried to sit up without moving her too much. Both my arms were still around her, so I didn’t have a free hand to yank the sheet off my face.
“Miss, you need to tell me if you’re hurt. I can’t quite sit up yet?—”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I heard a very familiar voice grumble. The sheet was ripped from my face none too gently. “God, you again,” the man muttered in disgust. He climbed off me, making sure to knee me in the balls in the process. Luckily, his aim was off enough that I could breathe and speak.
And move.
I grabbed the man and, despite the pain in my head, yanked him back down. I barely recognized him without his makeup and shiny clothes. So much so that I couldn’t find my words. Without those unique eyes of his, I probably wouldn’t have recognized him at all.
“Nice work, genius. You saved the damsel in distress again ,” he snapped. His eyes burned with fire, but it was the black and blue mark around his eyes that held my attention. I automatically reached out to touch the bruised skin. I’d let those three fuckers off too easy.
“What?” the man asked, his tart comment catching me off guard and forcing my gaze to meet his head-on. “You want some kind of thanks or a reward? A kiss, maybe?” he sniped. He had the audacity to lower his mouth so it was within inches of mine. “Because I assure you, cowboy, the next time I thank you—”—he rubbed his semi-hard cock against mine—“I’m going to make sure you know what’s really between my legs.”
The young man might have intended to try and turn me off, but all he did was make me forget every bump and bruise. As he tried to climb off me for a second time, I snatched him by the back of his neck so that his mouth was achingly close to mine. “I’ll settle for a name this time around.”
“Fuck you,” he responded before pulling free of me. He began collecting the wet laundry and clothespins as he made his way down the stairs. “Actually, it’s Mr . Fuck You,” he snapped. “Wouldn’t want that hick brain of yours to get all confused again.”
If my head hadn’t hurt so much, I would have smiled. His show of spirit was a major turn-on, not that I needed any more of those. I sat up enough to make sure I wouldn’t pass out, but before I could string more than a few words together, Fuck You glanced at me. He sighed loudly and put down the basket, then closed the distance between us.
“Let me see,” he said. “Don’t move.” With him standing and me sitting, it meant my face was practically pressed against his groin. Unfortunately, when his fingers prodded a spot on the back of my head, my hard-on died a quick death. “You’re bleeding.”
“You almost sound worried, Fuck You,” I said, though the words were strained.
“You’re the one who pushed me down the stairs,” came the snide response. Then, just like that, his voice gentled. “Okay, you’re going to put your arm around me so I can steady you. I need more light to clean this.”
I would have liked to tell him I was fine enough to walk on my own, but I wasn’t sure. I still felt off balance and the last thing I needed was to take another tumble down the stairs. “Are you hurt, Fuck You?”
“I’m fine,” he said as he placed himself next to me and eased my arm over his shoulders then wrapped his arm around my waist. I wanted to look at him to see if he was smiling because it sounded like he was.
I had yet to see his smile.
Or hear his laugh.
As we climbed each step, his grunts and groans as he struggled to bear my weight woke my dick back up when I imagined those sounds coming out of his mouth while I fucked him. Once we reached the top of the stairs, the walking was easier, and I spent those few seconds telling my dick to stand down. I practically fell into one of the chairs when we reached the kitchen table.
Surprisingly, my head hurt quite a bit, so I closed my eyes and let my guardian angel take care of me. Not because I wanted him to but because I needed him to. I was used to taking care of myself and under normal circumstances, a gash to the back of the head and a bump to the noggin wouldn’t have been an issue, but the last thing I wanted was to walk out of that house and have my new colleagues and bosses watch me face-plant into the dust.
“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, and your hair hides the cut pretty well, but it’s going to be a few days before the swelling on your temple goes down. You might have a concussion so you should probably go to the hospital, but since you’re a butch, macho man who’d probably just slap some duct tape on the cut and then go ride your horse or lift those hay things or do… whatever… I’ve put some butterfly bandages on it, though they’re not going to stay put long.”
The guy’s words snapped me from the half-doze I’d been in. He was right about not going to a hospital, but I knew the signs to watch for if I did have a concussion.
“Keep the ice on it,” the man said before he disappeared again. A moment later, there was a tall glass of ice water in front of me. “Are you hungry?”
The pie that had smelled delicious not five minutes earlier now made my stomach churn. “I’m good,” I managed to get out. “You know if Xavier or Curtis are around?”
“Curtis went to meet a friend who has a bunch of cows around here somewhere.”
“Cattle,” I offered. “You call ’elm cows out here and you’ll find yourself getting horse—” I stopped abruptly when I realized I’d been about to say horsewhipped, a commonly used but entirely harmless threat that no one, not even the naivest of tourists, would have taken seriously.
But the man sitting next to me wouldn’t see it that way. He’d seen firsthand what the “wrong” behavior resulted in when it came to towns like Eden; towns that were, in many ways, still stuck in the past.
“Um, Xavier and Brooks, he’s Curtis’s nephew, they’re um… riding.”
I swore I saw the young man’s skin flush with color. He would suck at gambling.
“Riding?” I asked huskily as I was immediately transported to the night before when I’d imagined my dick sheathed in the hottest, tightest grip it would ever know.
Something in my voice must have triggered the young man’s next move. I snagged his wrist before he could escape me once again. “Is it me?” I asked. I began stroking my thumb over the inside of his wrist. “Or is it all hicks that scare you? Because we’re not all like those three men?—”
“No,” he responded. “No, you’re not all like them. But yes, it is you.”
“I don’t under?—”
“Guys like… like from the other day. They don’t even bother to try and hide who they are.”
“And I do?” I asked in disappointment.
“I don’t know. I’ve met some of the best of them… guys who say one thing but mean another. The ones whose blinders come off when they realize the lips wrapped—” The young man stopped abruptly but I knew what he was going to say. How many times had men taken advantage of his effeminate appearance so they could play the “not really gay” card when they were done using him?
I nodded even as it stung to know that I fell into the second group that deemed me as the what you see is whatever you want to see kind of guy. “I’m sorry,” I said as I dropped my eyes to the two mugs sitting in the center of the table. Something about them made my chest hurt. I was still rubbing my thumb over the slim wrist my fingers were still loosely wrapped around.
No further explanation seemed necessary. I was sorry about a lot of things, but many of them had nothing to do with him or anything I’d done to him directly. I’d set my life up in a way that was purposefully designed to keep people at arm’s length and yet the first time I’d touched him, I’d touched him.
Just like he’d touched me.
I couldn’t let that happen ever again and yet I couldn’t force myself to release him.
“You need to make sure someone checks in on you every half hour or so for the next several hours. If you fall asleep or pass out, it could mean?—"
“Brain bleed,” I finished for him. “I should get out there and introduce myself,” I said awkwardly, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what made me add, “You said the next time you thanked me you’d make sure I’d know what was between your legs. What happens when it’s the other way around?”
“Huh?”
My eyes moved from the mugs to his wrist. He had some abrasions on the heel of his palm, probably from trying to catch himself when those three assholes had shoved him to the ground.
“What about when I need to thank you ?” I asked. My words were met with dead silence, but I could feel his pulse point begin to beat harder as I stroked my thumb over the span of his wrist.
I dropped my mouth to the inside of it and placed a soft kiss there. The softest of whimpers fell from his mouth as the simple kiss I’d intended turned into something else. As my lips grazed the skin of his hand, I cast a glance up and saw those green eyes were hidden from view and the arch of his neck seemed to be calling for its share of kisses.
It was then that I knew I had him. He was too damn responsive to hide his desire, but more importantly, he didn’t try to hide it. I wanted to pull him down so he’d be straddling me. The chemistry between us was undeniable, so anything we did, from the gentlest caress to the deepest needy kiss, would end up with him flat on his back on the kitchen table, those slim legs of his wrapped around my hips and his gorgeous green eyes glassy with need as I reached for my belt.
As pleasant as the image was, it was also a very serious problem.
I’d already kissed him once and it was all I could think about. Every day, every night. I hated that because it wasn’t something I wanted in the long run.
I’d liked hooking up with strange guys in my past life, but sex was barely a blip on my radar these days. The life I’d chosen for myself didn’t have room for a sex life and something told me that even if it did, fucking this young man once wouldn’t be enough. Just like kissing him once wasn’t enough. I was already too invested in him and I couldn’t let that go any further. So instead of pulling him onto my lap, I reached into my jacket pocket to retrieve an item that I placed in his palm and then closed his fingers around it. The move had him catching his breath and opening his eyes.
“I think this is going to look beautiful on you,” I told him. As he opened his palm, I stood and eased my hat onto my head. I dropped a kiss to the top of his. “‘Mr. Fuck You’ isn’t going to work for me, so until you’re ready to trust me with your real name, I’ll have to come up with something else.” I paused for a moment before my runaway mouth said, “Thank you, sweetheart .”