Chapter 9
Cash
By the time I got up the next morning, the pastor was gone.
Of course, I didn’t know that when I walked out of my room, completely naked, and headed for the bathroom.
I was secretly hoping he’d catch me. He so clearly enjoyed spying and staring and tasting…
maybe I could entice him a little further.
But he was gone, the parsonage completely empty.
I took some pleasure in walking about with nothing on, eating my breakfast with my bare ass leaned against the counter.
It made my cock twitch to think about Mike making a sandwich on that same counter later.
Then again, I’m sure he’d eat my ass if I asked him to.
He seemed the type to do just about anything to make someone happy.
I couldn’t help being a fair bit annoyed by that, actually.
There was something so… gross about people that went around, sacrificing their own lives for the happiness of others.
I saw no reason to do such things, not after all my opportunity at happiness had been so thoroughly destroyed by my father.
And yet, I also couldn’t help being incredibly turned on by the thought of a pastor, on his knees, worshiping my cock just to please me.
It was quite the power trip. Not to mention the forbidden aspect of our upcoming fuck fest. And I say upcoming because I was certain it was going to happen.
I had all the confidence in the world. Mike had taken the bait, and the hook was set.
Before long he’d come crawling to my bedside, desperate for me to use him.
I would, of course, give him the dicking of his life.
Because why not? I had nothing better to do in Sagebrush while I waited for the land to sell and he was an awfully convenient roommate.
Besides, the realtors seemed convinced that it would take some time before the farm was sold off, so I could be stuck in town for a month or more.
Maybe even the full six. So why not get some ass while I was in town?
It sure would make this town less of a fucking bore.
Yeah. That’s what I’d do. But I wasn’t going to chase Mike. He was going to come to me, begging for it. Only then would I give him what he needed. In the meantime, I’d torture him for my own entertainment.
With that thought firmly in my head, I finished my breakfast, got dressed, and headed out to my derelict ranch.
I had half a mind to pick through the rubble and see if I could find anything useful or valuable to sell.
I was running low on cash already since the sale of my trailer yielded almost nothing.
Getting a job didn’t sound particularly interesting, so I figured I’d try selling my father’s old junk online.
There had to be something in those ruins that was worth a few bucks.
I arrived at the ranch and immediately regretted coming. The destruction was even worse than I remembered, like someone had taken a giant hand and swept everything into piles of splintered wood and broken memories. Not that I had many good memories here, anyway.
The sun beat down on my neck as I picked through the rubble near what used to be the front porch.
Most of it was worthless, just rotted wood, broken glass, and rusted nails.
But I did find an old metal lockbox that had somehow survived intact.
It was dented on one side but still locked tight.
I tucked it under my arm and continued searching.
“Find anything good?”
I whipped around to find Brooks standing there, hat in hand, looking like he’d been watching me for a while. Fucking fantastic.
“What are you doin’ here?” I growled, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
“This land belonged to my family too,” he said, stepping carefully over a broken beam. “At least until you sell it.”
I snorted. “Well, feel free to take whatever you want. It’s all trash, anyway.”
Brooks watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Cash, about what you said the other day—”
“I’m not interested in rehashing that,” I cut him off, turning my back on him to continue digging through the debris. I found an old pocket watch, its face cracked but the gold-colored casing still intact. Might be worth something.
“I didn’t know,” Brooks said anyway. “About what happened after you left. About why Uncle James kicked you out.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” I muttered, pocketing the watch.
“It does to me.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I should have asked questions. I should’ve looked for you.”
I straightened up, frustration coursing through me. “What do you want from me, Brooks? A pat on the back for feelin’ guilty ten years too late? Forgiveness?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just... I want to try to make it right somehow.”
I laughed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “You can’t.”
We stood there in silence, the Texas sun beating down on us, surrounded by the ruins of a house I’d never felt welcome in anyway.
“Rowan likes you,” Brooks finally said, changing tactics. “He thinks you’re just hurting.”
“Rowan doesn’t know shit about me,” I snapped, though the comment caught me off guard. Why would that redheaded vet like me after how I’d treated him?
Brooks sighed, putting his hat back on. “Well, the offer still stands. Cabin’s yours if you want it when the roof is fixed. Even if you just need somewhere to store whatever you salvage.”
“I told you, I don’t need your cabin,” I said, hefting the lockbox under my arm.
A small smile tugged at Brooks’s lips. “How’s that going?”
Something in his tone made me narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Brooks said, but the smile remained. “Just heard Mike’s a good man. Thought you two might get along.”
“We get along just fine,” I said, unable to keep a smirk from forming. If only Brooks knew just how well we were getting along. Or were about to get along, anyway.
Brooks nodded, still with that knowing look that irritated the hell out of me. “Good. That’s good.”
“Don’t you have animals to save or somethin’?” I asked, ready for this conversation to be over.
“Actually, I do,” he said, checking his watch. “Just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re doing alright.”
“I’m peachy,” I said flatly. “Been taking care of myself for a long time. Why bother relyin’ on anyone else now?”
Brooks looked like he wanted to say more but thought better of it.
He tipped his hat at me and turned to leave.
“Call if you need anything. I mean it, Cash.” He started to go, then stopped, glancing back my way.
“You know, there’s a lot of people like you and me in this town.
Things have changed around here. Maybe, if you stop trying to hate everything and everyone so much, you might actually find something worth having. ”
“Thanks,” I grumbled. “I’ll make sure to put that sticky note on the fridge.”
Brooks just sighed, and turned away, knowing he couldn’t change my mind. I watched him go, a confusing mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite name churning in my gut. Why couldn’t he have cared this much when it actually mattered? When I was sixteen and scared and alone?
Pushing those thoughts aside, I continued searching through the wreckage.
By midday, I’d found a few more potentially valuable items. There was an old silver flask with my grandfather’s initials, a small wooden box of collector coins, and a leather-bound journal that looked like it might have belonged to my father.
I sat on what remained of a stone wall, wiping sweat from my brow as I examined the journal. Part of me wanted to toss it into the nearest trash pile, but curiosity got the better of me. I flipped it open to a random page.
October 15, 2021
Cash would have turned twenty today. I wonder where he is, if he’s safe. I should have handled things differently. Should have—
I slammed the journal shut, my heart pounding. Fuck that. Fuck him and his too-late regrets. I shoved the journal into my bag with the other items, not wanting to read another word ever again.
The sun was directly overhead now, beating down mercilessly. I decided I’d had enough digging for one day. Maybe I’d come back tomorrow with some tools, see if I could pry open that lockbox and check out what was buried underneath the old barn.
As I drove back toward town, my mind kept drifting to Mike. To the way his lips had parted last night, the slight gasp he’d made when I pressed my cock against them. The way his tongue had darted out to taste me before I pulled away.
My cock stirred at the memory, and I adjusted myself in my jeans. I was going to enjoy making him squirm, making him beg for it. The thought of a man of God on his knees before me, desperate and wanting… it was almost too delicious.
When I pulled up to the parsonage, I spotted Mike’s car in the driveway. Perfect timing. I grabbed my bag of salvaged items and headed inside, already planning how I’d torture him next.
The moment I stepped through the door, I heard his voice coming from the kitchen. He was on the phone, his tone serious and pastoral. I kicked off my boots deliberately loudly, wanting him to know I was there.
“I have to go,” I heard him say. “Yes, I’ll call you back later. Thank you, Maggy.”
I strolled into the kitchen, dust-covered and sweaty from my morning’s work. Mike was leaning against the counter, phone still in hand, wearing a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me.
“Productive morning?” he asked, his voice just a little higher than usual.
“Very,” I drawled, setting my bag on the table. I made a point of stretching, my t-shirt riding up to expose my stomach. His eyes dropped to the strip of skin, then quickly darted away. “Found some interesting stuff in what’s left of the house.”
“That’s... that’s good,” he stammered.
I smirked, stepping closer to him. “You’re home early. No souls to save today?”
“Colt’s handling things at the church again,” he explained, backing up slightly as I advanced. “And it’s too crowded to have a service just yet. Besides, I needed to catch up on some paperwork left behind by the old pastor.”
“Hmm,” I hummed, closing the distance between us until he was trapped against the counter. “You sure that’s why you came home early?”
His breathing quickened, his blue eyes darting between mine and my lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” I reached past him to grab a glass from the cabinet, my chest brushing against his. I could feel the heat radiating off him, could hear the slight catch in his breath. “I think you do.”
I filled the glass with water from the tap, taking my time as I stood close enough to feel his nervous energy. When I finally stepped back, he looked both disappointed and relieved.
“I’m going to shower,” I announced, taking a long drink of water while maintaining eye contact. “All that digging through rubble got me filthy.”
“Right,” he nodded, swallowing hard. “Of course.”
I set the glass down and headed for the hallway, then paused, glancing back at him over my shoulder. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for letting me stay here.”
“No thanks necessary,” he said quickly.
“Oh, but I insist,” I replied with a wicked grin, reaching down and grabbing my cock through my jeans. “I’m very... grateful.”
I left him standing there, his face flushed and his pants noticeably tighter. This was almost too easy.
In the shower, I took my time, letting the hot water sluice over my body as I thought about how to escalate things.
I wanted him desperate, completely driven insane by his desire for me.
I wanted him to forget whatever vows pastors took, his position, everything except how badly he wanted me inside him.
When I finished, I wrapped a towel loosely around my waist, making sure it hung low enough to be in danger of falling off. Then I stepped out into the hallway, still dripping wet.
“Hey, Mike?” I called out. “You got any clean towels? This one’s kinda damp.”
I heard movement, then footsteps approaching. Mike appeared at the end of the hall, a fresh towel in hand. He froze when he saw me, his eyes traveling from my wet hair, down my chest, to where the towel barely clung to my hips.
“Y-Yeah,” he said, going to the linen closet. He returned with a fluffy fresh towel. “Here,” he said, his voice thick as he held out the towel.
I didn’t move to take it, just stood there, water droplets running down my chest. “You mind bringing it to me? My hands are busy.”
They weren’t, but he didn’t argue. He walked toward me slowly, like a man approaching a wild animal. When he reached me, towel extended, I deliberately let my current one drop to the floor.
His sharp intake of breath was audible as I stood before him completely naked, my cock already half-hard under his gaze.
“Thanks,” I said casually, taking the fresh towel from his trembling hand but making no move to cover myself. “You’re always so helpful. I bet that’s why everyone around here likes you so much.”
His eyes were glued to my body, his breathing shallow. “I... I should go,” he whispered, but his feet didn’t move.
I stepped closer, the heat between us palpable. “Should you?” I murmured, letting the towel dangle from my fingers, unused. “Is that what you really want to do, Pastor?”
He licked his lips, his internal struggle visible on his face. I could practically see the war between his desire and his duty playing out behind those blue eyes.
“What I want...” he started, then stopped, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, there was a new resolve there. “I don’t want anything.”
I laughed softly, finally wrapping the towel around my waist. “Everyone wants somethin’, Pastor. Even you. Question is, how long can you deny yourself?”
I brushed past him, making sure my bare shoulder grazed his chest as I moved toward my room. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, could sense his inner turmoil.
“Cash,” he called after me, his voice stronger now.
I paused, looking back at him. “Yeah?”
“Once you get dressed, you should come talk to me so we can work through… whatever it is you’re going through.”
My face fell immediately, my joyful torture forgotten. “Or,” I said, glaring back at him. “How about you mind your own fuckin’ business?”
“You want someone to listen, Cash. I can see it in your eyes.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “The only thing I want, Pastor, is a piece of ass and a big check so I can leave this down behind forever. And unless you’re handing one of those things out, you can piss off.”