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Stable Hill

Page 6

by Jodi Payne

“You’re looking pretty good to me right now too.”

  “Well, well. If I didn’t know better—”

  “You don’t know shit.” He reached for Jeff, his fingers tangling in that fancy tie.

  “What happened to your tough position?” Jeff grinned, letting him pull them closer together, those eyes flashing with the heat that had set him on fire earlier.

  “Mm. It’s still really hard.”

  “Fuck.” Jeff went for him, teeth biting into his lower lip and hands tugging at his waistband and fly. He ached, his balls felt heavy, and his cock shoved against his zipper. He reached down to help, but Jeff shoved his hands away with a grunt.

  “Wow.” He grinned, throwing them up in the air in a hands-off gesture. “Okay, okay.”

  Jeff leaned on him until his back hit the closet door.

  “Jeff.” Russ barely got the name out before Jeff pinned his hands over his head and kissed him again, harder, tangling tongues. He rolled his hips up against Jeff’s, the resistance making him gasp.

  They rubbed together, grunting and moaning until finally Jeff broke off the kiss and dropped to his knees.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Jeff tore open Russ’s jeans and shoved them down, then smoothly took Russ’s aching cock into his mouth.

  “Oh fuck, Jeff. Please.” He needed. Fuck, he needed this. He dropped his hands to Jeff’s head, threading his fingers into dark hair as his cock disappeared into glorious wet heat. “Yes!”

  Might have been that look Jeff gave him earlier. Might have been the moment. Might have been the rejection from Oscar the night before or the fact that this was the first time he and Jeff weren’t parked behind a building, getting off in his truck. Might have been any combination of those things, and it hardly mattered. Right now he just needed to come. He wanted it like he wanted nothing else in his whole fucking life.

  He started to thrust, and Jeff let him, strong fingers digging into his ass, spreading him, fingering his hole. He looked down, watching his dick slide in and out, and in and out of Jeff’s mouth, watching that little vein pop out in Jeff’s forehead. Jeff swallowed around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and made a wild keening sound, feeling everything in him drop into his balls.

  “Fuck. Fuck yes,” he whispered. Come on, man. You need this bad.

  His hips started to jerk, and he pulled back a little. Jeff replaced that amazing mouth with a tight fist and pumped him hard and fast, two fingers still putting pressure on his ass. He couldn’t breathe, he gasped and panted and kept his eyes closed against the dizzy feeling, and a second later he shot so hard he had to lean on the wall and flatten out his hands to keep his knees under him.

  “I want to fuck you.” Jeff stood and took a deep kiss. “I want to fuck you, Russ. Please.”

  “My room. Bedside table.”

  Jeff couldn’t have been gone half a minute. Russ was still leaning against the wall, still trying to convince himself to open his eyes, when he heard the tearing of a foil wrapper. Jeff turned him, and he braced his hands on the wall, letting Jeff coax his legs wider and spread him with lubed fingers. He moaned as Jeff slipped one inside him.

  “Jesus, you’re tight, Russ.”

  “It’s been a long time, man. Gonna have to start slow, okay?”

  “I won’t hurt you.” A second finger joined the first, making him moan. “See? Feels good, right? Just relax, Russ. I’ll make it so good.”

  He nodded, not able to speak. Between the head rush, Jeff’s voice, and the incredible sensation of Jeff’s fingers, he was long gone, floating on hormones, his senses overwhelmed and raw. He felt Jeff’s cock nudge him a couple of times, heavy pressure, and then he groaned as Jeff entered him.

  “Jesus, Russ.” Jeff panted behind him. Strong arms snaked around his chest, and Jeff started to move, rocking him gently, slow and deep. “That’s it. So good, babe.”

  It was good, the thick cock filling him up, making him burn. It was better than he remembered—better than he’d ever had. He was a total slut for Jeff, moaning and arching, rolling his ass to meet Jeff’s thrusts. He knew it, and he didn’t care. He couldn’t help it. He begged with his body, letting Jeff take him.

  Jeff took enough time that Russ’s cock came back for more, and he jerked off just because Jeff wanted him to, fisting his own prick in all the right ways until he came again.

  Jeff grunted and built up after that, rutting fast and hard behind Russ until he came in shuddering waves. The two of them hung there in silence, arms braced and hips rocking together slowly as they found their breath again.

  “Jesus Christ, Russ.”

  That about said it all. “It had been a while.”

  “That was incredible. You are incredible. My God.”

  He laughed softly. “I was desperate and horny. And it wasn’t the back of my fucking truck.”

  “So if I make you wait a few weeks, you’ll do that again?”

  “Shut up, asshole.”

  Jeff laughed and moved away, leaving cool air at his back. The man disappeared into the master bathroom, and he headed for his room, feeling a little like he’d been scrubbed with sandpaper, inside and out. But man, he liked that feeling. He collapsed on his twin bed and looked at the ceiling, trying to get his brain to fire up again.

  Jeff joined him a couple of minutes later, sliding into the little bed with him, and kissed him slow, a hot, curious tongue sliding over his.

  “I don’t think I’ve been in a twin bed since I was in college.”

  “Cute. Don’t make fun of me.” He hadn’t really intended that remark to have a bite.

  “I’m not making fun of… what? Russ. Come on.”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. I guess I’m tired. That was mind-blowing, Jeff, no lie. You were amazing. I just… wow. Took off. Me and the clouds.”

  “You’re hotter than a four-alarm fire, Carolina.”

  “Hey, that was pretty good for a Yankee.”

  Jeff chuckled. “Now who’s making fun of whom?”

  He just grinned and nipped at Jeff’s chin. Jeff settled back, and he curled in, resting his head on Jeff’s shoulder. “I’m gonna fall ’sleep.”

  “Good, me too. I’ve got time.”

  “Gotta bring the horses in ’fore it gets dark, but Miles can manage without me if I’m late.” He yawned.

  “Close your eyes. I’ve got you.”

  That was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

  Chapter Nine

  HOLY SHIT, he got his hottie.

  Jeffrey had been awake for a few minutes, but he hadn’t dared to open his eyes yet. He was a little afraid to find out it was all a dream or a hallucination or something. He had a few rules for guys he picked up. Things like not using last names and not sticking around after they both got what they needed. He was very used to safe and sane one-nighters, and perfectly happy to keep those men out of his daily life.

  But his little Southern hottie from the River had just become more than a hit-or-miss exchange of incredibly satisfying blow jobs in the back of a pickup truck.

  Finally.

  Jeffrey wasn’t going anywhere. Russ not only had a last name and a job, but the farm manager had relevance to his life now. He ran his fingers down one muscled arm and breathed in deep. Russ smelled like horses and sex, and probably needed a shower, but he wasn’t complaining. He liked it. Loved it even.

  He wondered what Russ would say when those green eyes opened up again. Would Russ toss him out? Would they have some nice pillow talk and dinner together? Would he be all business and get back to work?

  To be fair, he did have to make a couple of phone calls—it was the middle of the workday after all. And Russ had said something about the horses too. What a strange choice in lovers he’d made. Assuming that was what they were now—lovers. He wouldn’t argue with being a recurring booty call, as long as they got to hook up in a real bed once in a while. His back wasn’t going to miss that truck. Or his knees either.

  He finally let himself
open his eyes and discovered that the light had gotten low. He looked around Russ’s bare room, astonished at how simply the man lived. No pictures, no posters. Just a guitar in one corner and a stereo, a chair and a small empty-looking desk, and a beat-up cowboy hat and a couple of baseball caps hanging on the wall by the closet door. And this damn twin bed that was threatening to do his back in.

  He needed to get up. He slipped out of the little bed and stood stiffly, trying not to wake Russ. He found his shirt and pulled it on, then ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it. He watched his little hottie sleep for another minute, then shook his head at himself and headed downstairs to snoop through Russ’s kitchen.

  He put on a pot of coffee and made himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich, then took a cup and his plate over to the vintage farmhouse dining room table, where he sat on one of the benches and pulled out his phone to check his email. The appraisal on the Van Dyke property came through with a good number. The Dorfman house failed the mold test, and the chimney had some issue… maybe they could deal with that in escrow. He was about to forward that email on to Jessica in the office, but then his phone rang.

  Oh, look. Oscar. Life was so interesting.

  “Hello, Oscar.”

  “Hey, Jeffrey, I was just checking in to see how things are going at the house.”

  “Things are good.” Fucking amazing. Your manager is a firecracker in the sack. “I brought a truck in this morning with the piano and the king bed, some other details. I think it looks pretty good.”

  “Awesome. Thanks for taking care of that. Russ let you in okay?”

  Boy, did he ever. “Oh, yeah. Got in fine. Hey. How does Thursday work for you? I’ll need about an hour. Can you meet me here after work? I’m going to come out early in the day and should have a good idea about what else needs work before we can list.”

  “Yeah, I want it on the market ASAP. Thursday is good. I won’t get there until at least 5:30 or quarter of six. Is that okay?”

  “Do I smell coffee?” Russ appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair slightly mussed and looking adorable in jeans, a T-shirt, and bare feet.

  Jeffrey held up a hand in a stop gesture. “Sure. That should work fine, Oscar.”

  Russ froze on the bottom step, eyes wide, and he covered his mouth with his fingers.

  “Okay, I’ve got you on the calendar. I’ll see you then. Thanks, Jeffrey.”

  “My pleasure. Take care.”

  “You too. Night.”

  Oscar hung up, and Jeffrey double-checked that the call had disconnected before saying another word. Then he grinned at Russ. “I assume you don’t want him to know.”

  “Well, seems like a bad idea. Yeah.” Russ strode over and offered a kiss. Their lips met almost curiously, gently, exploring like they were new to this. Like they were learning each other, and really, he supposed they were; everything was different now, wasn’t it?

  Russ pulled away with a smile and headed for the coffeepot, leaving him blinking and bemused.

  Okay, then.

  They’d gone from first-name privileges-only to domestic bliss in an afternoon. It was enough to make his head spin.

  “I wouldn’t mind, you know. If Oscar knew.”

  “No?” Russ sounded less sure.

  Interesting. “Well, it’s not a conflict of interest or anything. I’m selling his house, not writing your employment contract.”

  “I guess, but it feels—”

  “Because you didn’t tell him right away?”

  “Well, yeah. Partly.” Russ sat down at the table opposite him with a cup of black coffee.

  “Let me ask you something, Mr. White.”

  Russ sighed at him.

  “Sorry. I’m serious here, though. What’s next, in your mind? Was this a one-off? Are we still just fucking around? You think I can have your cell number, now?”

  “You can have my cell number. I don’t know about the rest yet, you know?”

  That was fair. Jeffrey wasn’t entirely clear on what he wanted yet either. “Okay. Then there’s no need to risk pissing Oscar off yet.”

  “I’m not an asshole, Jeff. I’m just not sure how these things work.”

  “And I’m not pushing you. I can give you an honest answer, though. I loved that. I like you. If you give me your cell number, I’m going to use it.”

  Russ smiled at him. “Okay. Unlock your phone and give it to me.”

  He handed it over, and Russ dialed in his number and created a contact. Russ White. And for “Company,” Russ typed in The River and handed the phone back with a grin. “So you don’t confuse me with your Grindr buddies.”

  “Oh, there’s no forgetting you. Not after that encounter. That was transcendent.”

  Russ blushed hard. “Jesus, Jeff. You’re making me all self-conscious.”

  “I’m telling you, Russ. I want more. I want more of you.”

  He saw Russ swallow before getting up from the table. “I gotta deal with those horses. I gotta move some hay. And I’m not done checking all that fence.”

  All right, that was fine. Russ had to sit with this for a bit and so did he. In the meantime, he had Russ’s number and he’d check in on the man in a day or so. “I’m going to be back on Thursday to look over the barns with a contractor. Oscar’s meeting me here after work. 5:30 or so.”

  “Sure thing.”

  He stood up from the table and watched Russ, who was filling up a travel mug with coffee.

  “I’ve got a couple things to wrap up….”

  Russ looked at him sidelong, then made his way back over. “Really. I’m not an asshole. I just need to—”

  “Stop.” He pulled Russ into a hard kiss, deliberately cutting off the guy’s words. Russ relaxed against him and accepted his lips, his tongue, and gave him a long moan. Jeffrey smiled as he pulled away. “Everything good takes time.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Jeff.” Russ smiled at him.

  “You want me to lock the door when I go?”

  “God, I haven’t locked a door since the day I started here. I’ve got a key on my ring, but I never use it.”

  “I love that.”

  Russ stomped into his boots, pulled on a cap, and screwed the top on his travel mug. “See you Thursday, man.”

  “See you Thursday.” Jeff watched Russ head out the back door and then looked at the new contact in his phone. But I’ll talk to you sooner.

  Chapter Ten

  OSCAR GREEDILY guarded his Friday-night custom of binge-watching shows on Netflix. It was like a reward after a long week. It wasn’t so much about whatever show he picked, but the chance to sit on his ass and drink a beer, and know he was going to basically be left alone for most of the evening.

  Tonight, though, wasn’t a Netflix night. It was meet-Brian night.

  Brian. The boyfriend.

  The boyfriend with the black Civic. With tinted rear windows. Who kissed his daughter right out there in his driveway last weekend.

  Jesus Christ, Emmett. Emily’s almost done with high school. She’s almost a freshman in college. She’s almost a woman.

  And he was pretty sure Emily was in love right now too. Sweetly in love, kind of how he thought Emmett would have wanted. He didn’t pretend that there wasn’t some pressure on Brian, being the first serious boyfriend of his late husband’s eldest daughter. Pressure the poor kid probably had no clue was coming. But Oscar understood it well. He was under the same pressure to raise every one of their girls well, to keep them safe, to deliver them to adulthood without their biological father.

  Leaving aside the pressure of paying for four girls to go to college, it was already a stressful responsibility sometimes. Add that detail back in and the stress often felt crushing. But somehow it was going to happen.

  The doorbell rang and he looked at his watch. The kid was almost fifteen minutes early. That seemed like bad form, didn’t it? Emily appeared at the top of the stairs as if she’d planned to open the front door herself, but no, he was going t
o take that on, thank you very much.

  “Oz.”

  “I’ve got it.” He smiled at her. “You look pretty.” She was in jeans and a sweater, nothing fancy, but her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were pink. Despite her figure and her height, she looked ten years old to him still. He wondered if she always would.

  Oscar stepped to the front door and opened it, but the man standing there wasn’t Brian. This guy was in a suit and tie and had a smile that made his throat so dry he had to swallow. Again.

  “Hey, Jeffrey…?” What are you doing here?

  “Hey, Oscar. Sorry to drop in but I… are you okay?”

  “Oh. Oh yeah. Fine. I was just… I was expecting someone else. A date.”

  “Oh, I… sorry.” Jeffrey looked decidedly uncomfortable all of a sudden.

  Oscar shook his head. “Emily’s date. Boyfriend.” Jesus H. Christ. “He’s coming for dinner.”

  “Oh.” Jeffrey smiled at him. “Gotcha. That sounds a little stressful.”

  He huffed. “A little.”

  “I texted you about that paperwork we talked about when I saw you yesterday, but when I didn’t get an answer, I thought I would leave it with you.”

  “Oh, sure. No problem. Come on in.”

  “Is that Brian, sweetheart?” Rose called from the kitchen.

  “No, Rose. It’s Jeffrey Stokes, the Realtor.” He led Jeffrey into the kitchen. “Jeffrey, this is my mother-in-law, Rose Fisher.”

  “Oh. Well, hello, Mr. Stokes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you, Mrs. Fisher.” Jeffrey set the paperwork down on the kitchen counter. “I… didn’t realize you were married.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I was. My husband, Emmett, died three years ago.” Awkward. God. He’d never figured out a simple way to deal with all of that.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Jeffrey’s eyes lingered on him a second longer than was just polite, and he held the gaze.

  “No, it’s okay. Really.”

  Jeffrey gave him a nod and then smiled at Rose, turning on the charm. “Are you making lasagna? It smells divine.”

  “I am.”

 

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