Right Move--A Gay Cowboy Romance

by A. M. Arthur

  “No, we didn’t. This is better because it isn’t in the moment. We talked and now we’re positive we’re both on the same page.” He drummed up the rest of his courage and finally said what he needed. “I want to kiss you. Please, Levi Peletier, be my first kiss.”

  “How can I say no to that?” He stood and walked a few steps to stand in front of the window. Held his hand out.

  George took it and held tight, already a bit out of breath from the simple touch. Levi stepped closer until only the smallest breath of air remained between their bodies, and an odd flush heated George’s skin from head to toe. With his free hand, Levi stroked the backs of his knuckles down George’s cheek and that internal flush intensified. George licked his lips, needing this kiss now more than he needed air to breathe.

  “Please,” he whispered.

  “Your trust means everything to me.” Levi brushed his lips across George’s forehead briefly before pressing a warm mouth against George’s. Instead of tensing, George relaxed even more, melting against Levi’s taller, broader form, his own free hand grasping at Levi’s shirt. Levi’s lips whispered across his, a delightful pressure that George carefully deepened. He parted his lips a bit, accepting Levi’s gentle nips and sips. It seemed to go on for an eternity like that before it changed.

  Levi’s tongue lightly licked at George’s mouth, taking little tastes, and George moaned. He really, truly moaned, and his dick began taking notice of how much he loved this. When Levi’s tongue retreated, George advanced, exploring the soft lips of the man holding him so carefully. Trying this new, wonderful thing. Arousal rippled down his spine in wave after wave, and he grew bolder. Licked deeper into Levi’s mouth. Got a stronger taste of the man and loved it. Hot and sweet. Pure male.

  Perfection.

  The world faded away, leaving George in a blissful state he never wanted to leave. He lived inside the sensual kiss and all the feelings surging through his body. From his head to his toes—and especially his groin—he was alive for the first time since he’d left the ice rink behind. Alive and aware and so fucking good.

  Levi pulled him in tighter, and the brush of another man’s erection against his thigh made George jump. Levi immediately ended the kiss but didn’t release George, only put a bit of space between them. “You okay?” Levi panted, breathless himself. Eyes wide with arousal and concern.

  George sucked in a ragged breath and silently reminded himself why Levi’s erection was entirely appropriate, given their current situation. This was nothing like with Adrian. “Startled me is all. That was...wow.”

  Levi, bless him, actually blushed. “Yeah?”

  “Very much yeah. I never imagined kissing could be so sensual.”

  “It can be a lot of things with the right person.” Levi’s fingers lightly stroked his neck. “No regrets?”

  “Absolutely not.” He’d never felt more alive in his life, and if kissing was this awesome, he would probably have a bliss stroke when they finally had sex.

  Not when I had sex. They. Us. Please, God, yes.

  “Can we kiss some more?” George asked.

  Levi’s lips twitched. “I’m not sure if kissing you more this close to all these beds is a good idea. I promise I’ll behave, but man, you’re putting thoughts in my head.”

  “I trust you to keep them to just thoughts.” And he did trust him. Zero worry of Levi losing his mind and doing something George didn’t want or invite. That level of trust after knowing the man for only a handful of weeks was dizzying but also...nice. “I like feeling close to someone who isn’t related me. And it’s a completely new kind of trust.”

  “Oh George.” Levi traced a single fingertip from George’s temple to his collarbone. “I like being close to someone who makes me feel as innocent as he is. Unmarked by all the turmoil in my past.”

  “I’m glad I can give that to you.” George leaned up on his toes to kiss Levi again. “Lock the door.”

  Levi did, reacting to the order as if George had zapped him with a Taser. Then they were sitting together on Levi’s bed, hip to hip, mouths fused in a long, unending kiss that left George floating on the best kind of joy. Hands didn’t stray lower than their chests or arms. Levi seemed to love running his fingers through George’s hair, and it felt a lot like being petted, and George loved it. They kissed until George was pretty sure they’d have to take turns in the shower to relieve themselves of the arousal, and he didn’t care.

  It was all worth it. His first kiss had turned into dozens, and George had never been happier in his life.

  * * *

  Levi woke the next morning with a boner so intense he gasped once he realized he was on his stomach, boxers twisted in such a way that said boner was not in a comfortable position. After making out with George for ages last night, he’d barely been able to calm his dick down enough to take a whiz before falling asleep alone.

  Sort of alone. George was in the room, but on his own bunk, while Levi desperately wanted the younger man in his arms. He shifted around to gaze at the lump of George beneath his blanket. George faced the wall, back to him, and seemed to be asleep. As much as Levi wanted to palm his dick and get off to the memories of last night, he wasn’t about to do that with George less than six feet away.

  The rooms were not very big.

  Instead, he untangled from his own bedding and went into the small bathroom. It was serviceable, like a cheap roadside motel. He brushed his teeth before climbing into the shower. Since his dick showed no signs of calming down, Levi used a bit of his own soap to handle the problem. He refused to let himself fantasize about George, though. Instead, he pulled on one of his favorite unexplored kinks: someone younger and smaller than him going to town on his ass. Unfortunately, the nameless, faceless younger top very quickly morphed into George, and Levi turned the cold water on full blast.

  In no universe was he perving on his roommate.

  The cold water helped, and Levi finished his shower. Since George was still asleep when Levi was dried and dressed in his regular jogging clothes, he left their room and wandered downstairs. Food smells filtered out from the kitchen; Levi took a chance on poking his head inside. Patrice, Miles and Shawn were working in tandem to create the Monday morning breakfast, and Shawn noticed him first.

  “Hey, dude, you have an okay night?” Shawn asked.

  Levi appreciated his discretion. “A really good night, thanks. It’s odd being here as a guest, but it’s also kind of fun being on vacation for the first time in forever. And speaking of vacation, aren’t you and Miles supposed to be on your own?”

  Patrice’s warbling laughter filled the room. “These boys can’t seem to stay out of my kitchen. Once a cook, always a cook. But I will never say no to the company. I love all my boys, even the ones who leave the nest.”

  “I was never technically in the nest,” Miles said. “Just an observer who enjoys making sausage gravy for Patrice’s famous buttermilk biscuits.”

  “The young lad has improved upon my own recipe for his diners up at the ghost town saloon.”

  “Hush, Patrice, no one will ever beat your gravy.”

  Levi chuckled at the banter. He’d tried both Patrice and Miles’s version of sausage gravy and each had their own merits in terms of flavor. It also wasn’t something Levi indulged in often, though.

  “Plus, for me,” Shawn said, “once Robin and I finally close on the house and can move in, I won’t have any more chances to cook breakfast here. I’m okay with getting up early but not that early.”

  “We’ll definitely miss you in the kitchen,” Patrice replied. “He did a remarkable job taking over for me last year when I broke my collarbone.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  The pair shared a fond, secretive smile that Levi didn’t completely understand. He excused himself through the backdoor and began a light jog toward cabin row. Some lights were on in variou
s windows as the hands slowly came awake for the new day. Levi ran familiar paths through the lands he’d come to memorize over the last year of his life, thankful to live in such a beautiful place. And to work with people who treasured this gorgeous piece of nature, rather than taking it for granted.

  His mind constantly wandered back to last night’s kisses with George, and he really wanted to kiss him again. Kiss him all the time. Do other things with him. Show him so much pleasure that they’d both burst from it. One step at a time, though. One very slow step at a time. Levi never wanted to push or accidentally do something George was not genuinely ready for.

  Besides, Levi wasn’t sure how thin the guesthouse walls were, and he didn’t want to embarrass George in front of the other guests with loud sex noises. His tiny house was a much better, much more remote option for that.

  Noooope, not going there.

  The morning was cool enough that he hadn’t broken much of a sweat by the time he circled back to the guesthouse. He went in through the front and waved at the Briggs-King family, who were lounging in the living area waiting for the breakfast bell. George was in the bathroom when Levi entered their room, shower running, so he changed into regular clothes. George exited the bathroom dried and dressed a few minutes later, hair still damp and a little unruly.

  “Hey, you were up early,” he said.

  “Old habits,” Levi replied. “I got a good run in, though. Favorite way to start the day.”

  George smiled but something about it seemed forced. “So apparently guests are woken up by some sort of terrifying rooster call. It definitely got me out of bed.”

  “I must have been too far out to hear it, but Robin’s told me about that. It makes sure everyone is up in time for the breakfast bell.” He checked his phone. “Which should be any moment.”

  Sure enough, the bell clanged a few seconds later.

  “Come on,” Levi said. “Let’s go see what Patrice, Shawn and Miles cooked up for us.”

  “All three of them?”

  “Apparently, during their vacation time Shawn and Miles can’t help themselves. Cooks like to keep busy in kitchens.”

  “I guess if something is a calling.” George smiled but still seemed subdued on their walk downstairs.

  The dining room’s buffet was set up with all kinds of breakfast foods, and Levi made an eclectic plate. George took one biscuit and a lot of fresh fruit, and Levi started making a connection between his early run and George’s mood. George had once been an athlete in a very competitive sport that required dexterity and leanness. Had George battled an eating disorder during his figure skating days? His modest food choices in the few weeks that Levi had known him suggested maybe. But since asking was hugely inappropriate, Levi ignored his worries and ate his breakfast.

  Most of the guests sat around the big dining table. George had chosen an end seat to prevent him from sitting next to a stranger, and everyone chatted amiably about the day’s activities. The weather tonight was supposed to be warm enough that they were offering the overnight camping trip. During warm weather, guests could go out Monday, Wednesday or Friday night (or all three if they really loved it), but during the colder months Reyes called the trips based on the overnight temperatures. The sleeping bags were warm but no one wanted to risk a guest getting sick.

  Faith was excited for the camping trip, her dads not as much, but they agreed to sign up after breakfast.

  George didn’t speak during the meal, and once they were done and had cleaned up their dishes, Levi gently nudged him outside to the front porch. “What do you think about camping tonight?”

  “I’m curious because it’s something I’ve never done before,” George said. “Do you want to go?”

  “Sure. I’ve slept in way more uncomfortable places than a sleeping bag on the ground.”

  “Sounds like an interesting story.”

  “I’ve got a lot of those.” George seemed more settled now than earlier but something still wasn’t quite right. “Does it bother you that I run every morning?”

  “No, your running is different than mine was. You run for your health, sure, but you also run to feel close to nature. To appreciate her beauty and gifts. I used to run because my coach demanded it. Twice a day for miles. He said the better my endurance the better I’d skate, and it was true, but...he was a little extreme in some of his coaching techniques.”

  Levi took a calculated risk with his next question. “Do you miss running?”

  “Sometimes. I miss the exhilaration and the freedom of moving through the world really fast. It’s how I used to feel when I’d land a hard jump combo. Or when I’d medal in a competition. The pride of accomplishing something. All I seem to accomplish anymore are my work assignments.”

  “You accomplished quite a few things these last few weeks, George. You befriended me. You saved my cat. You left your apartment and are here with me. Hanging out with perfect strangers. I am so proud of you for all of that.”

  George’s expression cleared, and he smiled. “Thanks. You being proud of me means a lot.” His gaze flickered to Levi’s mouth. “A whole lot.”

  As much as Levi wanted to drag George into his arms and kiss him breathless, other guests were filtering outside on the porch. Making out was best left to the privacy of their room or the walking trails. “So camping?”

  “Why not? Let’s do it.”

  “Excellent. I’ll run over to the office and sign us up. From what I remember Robin saying, we’ll have to work with the horses for a while again this morning.”

  George grinned. “Good. I’m excited to ride again.”

  The old Levi would have had a heck of a lot of fun with the innuendo in that statement; this Levi behaved. “You’ll get your chance, soon. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He strode off the porch, eager for today’s activities and every single minute he got to spend with George—in and out of the saddle.

  Chapter Twelve

  George settled in one of the porch chairs to wait for Levi’s return, stomach pleasantly full from his fruit breakfast. He’d wanted to put some of that delicious smelling sausage gravy on his biscuit, but his overreaction to Levi’s early-morning run had pressed his guilt button too damned hard, and he’d refrained from the extra fat and calories. Now he regretted the choice but there was no fixing it.

  He’d just add extra mayo to his sandwich at lunch or something.

  The diet/exercise urges had diminished over the years but certain things never completely went away. Not when he’d spent so many of his formative years battling eating disorders, thanks to Adrian and his parents. The only person in his past who’d never demanded perfection from him was Orry. They’d been competitive, yes, but in their own unique ways.

  He took a picture of his view of the main ranch and texted it to Orry. These last twenty-fourish hours were the longest he’d been away from his twin in the last seven years, and while he missed Orry like crazy, he was also...okay. No imminent sense of panic or doom. A longing, sure, but also a lot of excitement for the rest of his day here with Levi.

  Levi.

  George had woken with morning wood for the first time in ages, and he’d been insanely grateful that Levi wasn’t in their room. It allowed him to escape into the bathroom with some dignity and rub one out in the shower. All he’d needed to do was remember making out with Levi for hours the night before—some of the best memories of his entire life, next to his first junior gold medal.

  And while they didn’t have lube or a condom between them—at least, he assumed not but he hadn’t searched Levi’s luggage—George hoped they did more than kiss while sharing a room for the rest of the week. There were so many things they could with just hands, mouths and spit, and George wanted to try them. And the only person he trusted enough to give his body to was Levi.

  Someone plunked down in the chair beside his. The mother of the two teenage gi
rls. Mrs. Harrison? “I thought you looked familiar but older,” she said in a faux whisper. “I was a huge figure skating follower when my girls were younger. You’re Georgie Thompson, right? You quit right before Worlds?”

  George’s chest constricted. What were the fucking odds that someone would recognize him in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a dude ranch? “My name is George,” was all he managed to say.

  “George, Georgie. You’re the twin. You were really good, kid; why did you quit like that? I mean, the real reason, not all the random crap in the newspapers, like you and your brother running off to join a cult.”

  That was in the fucking paper?

  George’s stomach curled in on itself and his vision briefly blurred. Fingers began trembling. He tried to latch on to something tangible before the panic attack took over and embarrassed the hell out of him, but not even the faintest scent of dirt and horse kept him there.

  Orry. I need Orry.

  Then a somewhat familiar voice was there, talking to him or the woman, George wasn’t sure. He didn’t protest the firm hands that pulled him up and forward. Indoors and out of the fresh December air. Somewhere that smelled like food and warmth and safety, and then slender arms were pulling him into a hug.

  “You’re okay, it’s okay. You’re safe, George, you’re okay. Listen to my voice. You’re safe.”

  The constant reassurances helped George latch on to specific things: the smell of cooked bacon; the warmth of the person holding him; the murmur of other voices; the sound of what might have been a dishwasher. He was in a kitchen. The man holding him was roughly his size, maybe a bit taller, but just as slim.

  When George thought he could look up without bursting into tears, he met Miles’s eyes. Miles watched him with equal parts compassion and understanding, and without asking, George saw an ally in his panic attack. “Thanks for the save,” George rasped, hating how much his voice wobbled.