Chapter 2
Logan
I hover under a lamp attached to one of the pillars supporting the roof of the big stable building, but Mr. Ass of the Year hasn’t noticed me yet and keeps loading hay onto a wheelbarrow.
His whistle goes straight to my balls, high in pitch yet somehow soft as he tilts his hips and places the pitchfork against the wall.
As he stands upright to adjust the folded sleeve of his green flannel, I see he is slightly shorter than me but fit, with nice shoulders and firm thighs.
But as I admire his round backside, which looks so perfect in those torn jeans, he turns my way and stalls before pulling out wireless earbuds. I bite my lower lip, recognizing that his front is just as appetizing as the back.
His jaw is square in that masculine way I like, but his brown eyes are big and soft as a doe’s.
Clean-shaven, with black hair cut short at the back and sides but a bit longer at the top, he’s the embodiment of what a wholesome country boy should be.
When he smiles, I know that if my sister brought him home, Dad wouldn’t even feel compelled to make jokes about having a shotgun on the ready for anyone who might hurt his little girl.
Because this guy couldn’t possibly hurt anyone.
No, he's the type to always help old ladies across the street and who volunteers at an animal shelter.
I rather like him smiling at me.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. We’re closed,” he says, shoving the earbuds into a little case.
“Don’t worry about it. I used to come here often, so I knew my way around the place.” I step closer, drawn to him as though he’s a magnet for my dick. Oh, how I’d love to find out if his dimples are still visible when he sucks cock.
Please don’t be straight. Please don’t be straight. Please don’t be straight.
An ass like that is wasted on straight women.
He blinks, and my stomach clenches when recognition flashes through his gaze.
“Logan, right? Logan Ashen?” His smile widens even more, and he steps closer.
His features are vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place them when he shakes my hand.
“I was a freshman when you finished high school. I was in your sister’s year. Kyle Hone?”
Oh. I do know. But he must have been fifteen when I last saw him, and now? Wow, he’s grown.
I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t, but I already know I’ll scratch at him a bit to see if what I crave is under the surface.
It’s not conceited of me to say I have an easy time getting laid.
It’s just the truth. I fit what many people want in a guy.
I’m tall, muscular without looking like a meathead, and I’ve been blessed by genes that make my face enticing to anyone who likes men.
I have a tan, short brown hair, a bit of scruff, and a sense of style that screams hot cowboy from my hat to my boots.
I can only hope Kyle likes what he sees. I lean against one of the stalls with a smile. “I remember! You used to work at the stables part-time with her. Time flies, doesn’t it? Do you need some help?”
Kyle chuckles. “It’s okay. I was about to go home, but figured I might treat them to a snack. Blame my soft heart. Anyway, what are you doing here so late?” he asks and pushes the wheelbarrow along the main aisle between the stalls.
You, hopefully, I think to myself as I follow him. He’s giving me the perfect view on the jeans that fit his ass so snuggly.
“I was hoping to talk your mom into giving me an hour or two with one of your horses, but looks like she’s gone for the day, so it’s just you and me to talk about that deal. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He doesn’t argue about being the only one left working, which makes me smile as I stare at the way his buttocks shift under denim.
“You want to ride out? Not a good idea when it’s getting dark.
I suppose you could use the paddock,” Kyle says, placing some hay in feeders as we pass.
The horses seem calm, and one even tries to pull Kyle’s flannel off him, but that’s something I’d rather do myself.
Please, don’t be straight.
I'm walking a tightrope between wanting to outright proposition him, which could burn a bridge for me, and trying to flirt in a way that isn’t so clear cut.
But there’s an excitement to it that’s often missing on hook-up apps.
It’s the unknown, the tension of will-he-won’t-he.
It makes my heart pump faster as I stand closer under the pretense of grabbing some hay.
I shrug. “Don’t you like a bit of danger sometimes? You could come with me. We could take flashlights and follow a trail.”
I love the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he looks at me.
He stares back, and I can practically hear the cogs in his skull turning.
I laugh and tip my hat as I feed the horse from my hand. “Promise I’m no serial killer.” I might fuck you though.
Kyle gives a soft laugh and continues distributing the hay while I follow. “Sounds exactly like what a serial killer would say.”
“How would you know? To be fair, I can be unpredictable.” I wiggle my eyebrows as my blood flows faster. I know what I want to do next.
“Not sure my life is the price I want to pay,” he says, heading back to the big pile of hay.
I follow him a bit too closely, but the faint scent of his citrusy cologne makes me do that.
He puts the pitchfork against the wall and cocks his head at me. Is he being playful or just friendly? “Besides, how unpredictable can you really be?”
I lean in and kiss him on the mouth, assessing every millisecond of his reaction.
This is when I either understand I have a chance, or laugh it off, pretend I’m joking, and make fun of the expression on his face.
I’ve done this before and it relies on the fact that the straightest guys are comfortable enough in their masculinity to do shit like this.
He goes stiff, but his hands don’t shove me back, so I close my eyes and let myself feel his lips.
They open, and I’m in, tasting the minty aroma on his tongue.
And that’s when the magic happens. Kyle shivers, leaning his weight on me, as if he lost balance.
I’m more than happy to oblige and push him against the wall for all the support he could need.
He is delicious. So soft and open to me.
All the stress of my family dinner dissolves in this kiss.
I love that he seems tentative, letting me lead.
My dick is already interested, but seduction is in the tease, so I pull back a little.
I put my hand over his belt buckle though, so he can’t slip away and knows I’m not going anywhere either.
I smirk at him, my lips less than an inch away. “Yeah? Not even a little slap?”
He’s breathing so fast I can only imagine how chaotic his mind must be, but instead of answering he shakes his head and pulls me down by the neck, clashing his mouth with mine like a starving man who’s finally found a piece of bread.
Or meat. I’m definitely the meat.
I slide my arms around him, down his toned back, but I don’t bother touching him through fabric.
I push my hands straight past his belt and into his jeans to grab that perfect ass.
Groaning into the kiss, I press him to the wall, because I want to rut against him like some caveman and see my cum on those juicy buttocks.
Kyle gets to his toes, and moans as his own erection rubs against mine. His hold on me is so very tight, as if I were the last tree branch he could grab before plunging down a waterfall, but while lust fizzles in my skull, I can’t let him think he can control any of this.
He wants me. Knowing this shoots adrenaline straight to my ego.
I squeeze his round ass as I pull on his bottom lip with my teeth. He’s even more handsome now, with a healthy flush on his face. The dim yellow light above us gives his pretty brown eyes a warm sheen. I want to see him moaning, red-faced and ruined.
“Open my belt,” I whisper against his lips, never breaking eye contact.
He hesitates, breathing through the soft lips I want to see swollen from sucking on my cock, but moments later, something snaps in him, and he opens my buckle, staring straight at me despite his hands shaking as he unzips my jeans too without being asked for it.
“That’s it,” I rasp and give his top lip a lick.
“Now touch my cock. I know you want to. I’d do it myself, but my hands are kinda busy.
” As I squeeze his ass again, I let my fingertips trail over the crack.
I can’t wait to dick him down, but he’s too pretty to rush things too much. I’ll be enjoying myself with him.
He looks past me, as if he were afraid we might have company, but then his gaze wanders down the narrow space between our bodies, and he slides one of his hands down my pants, touching me through underwear.
My eyes roll back as I focus on his large hand, and he leans against me, rubbing my throat with his lips and nose as he squeezes my erection through fabric. I like how he smells, all fresh, as if he just showered, not worked in the stables. I move my hands farther, opening his buttocks.
Kyle gasps and shoves his fingers under the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them down.
Let’s hope Mrs. Hone doesn’t decide to check up on her son, because I’m not letting him go until he’s a panting mess and smells of my cum.
His eyes widen a bit when he wraps his fingers around my stiff dick and I can’t help but smirk. Yes, Kyle, it’s big. I groan in pleasure and rock my hips against his hand so he gets to know me better.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles, staring at my cock sliding through his fist. I grunt, pushing him against the wall as I rock my hips against his hand. It’s so damn warm, though I can think of better places for it to be and gently lick his lips.
His brown eyes are so soft now, so very overcome with need their pupils appear smudged all over the irises, making them borderline black.