He cleared his throat and stared out the window as he got control of himself. I‘m shooting to get the festival article done tonight. Then tomorrow I want to do some background checking on the tank story. I hope to interview the suspect, if the sheriff will let me. And I hope to check out where he lives, take a few pictures, see what I can find out.
Clint nodded. You might want to talk to the doc too, he suggested. See what he knows about the kid, in light of all this. He‘s probably got family locally too. Let me know what‘s goin‘ on. I‘d be interested in readin‘ your article.
Tyler smiled, warmed at Clint‘s interest in his story. They were becoming not only lovers, but friends.
Knowing if he didn‘t leave the truck now, he‘d lose his resolve completely, Tyler reached for the door handle. Okay, he said, I‘ll call you later, let you know what I find out.
Terrific, Clint replied, tipping his cowboy hat slightly toward Tyler with a nod. And I‘ll email you the directions to my place. My cabin‘s way in back of the ranch— nice and private. He winked. Remember, eight o‘clock tomorrow night. Don‘t be late, now.
~*~
Clint was bent over the engine of a tractor that had been losing oil around the head gasket. Aside from the fact that it was one of his jobs, Clint enjoyed tinkering with the farm equipment, as it gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts.
Clint hadn‘t wanted to let Tyler go the night before. If he‘d had his way, he would never let Tyler Sutton go. And yet, that happening was about as likely as them buying a little house with a white picket fence and picking out curtains together. It just wasn‘t in the cards, not given the life he‘d chosen as a rancher in rural Texas. True, he was tolerated in spite of his sexual orientation by the folks who knew him well, but that was about as far as the acceptance went.
It occurred to him, not for the first time, that life as a gay man would be easier in a place like Austin, but even the thought of living somewhere without the vast prairies and wide open skies of his beloved West Texas filled him with a sense of unease. He guessed he was a cowboy first, before anything else, and that was bred into his bones.
And what of Tyler? He‘d been raised on a ranch, not much more than two hours from here. He‘d had no trouble, so it seemed, in just picking up and taking off for the big city, leaving behind the world and the folks he knew. Yet, Clint sensed Tyler hadn‘t really left it behind. He‘d taken whatever, or whoever, he‘d been running from right along with him. He was still carrying demons inside his heart—demons that would continue to haunt him, Clint suspected, until he faced them head on.
Clint found himself almost regretting that they‘d solved the tank theft mystery so easily. It had been the perfect excuse to travel together, away from the prying eyes of others as they explored their newfound connection with one another. With the culprit arrested, what would happen now? Would Tyler be heading back to Austin with barely a fare-thee-well and that would be that? Yeah, he was staying a few days to wrap up the story for his magazine, but Clint knew he had to face the fact that Tyler‘s life was elsewhere.
As Clint adjusted the cylinder valves, he smiled a little to himself, recalling Tyler‘s immediate assumption and reaction when he‘d seen Jonas and himself tussling in the dirt. Clint had once been like Tyler, acting first and thinking later. As the years had gone by Clint had developed a habit of moving slow—taking his time to assess a situation before barreling in with both fists cocked.
Clint was excited by the prospect of the spanking. He knew Tyler was less than certain about Jonas and what role he would play between them. Clint vowed to himself to make it work, not only for him and Tyler, but for Jonas as well.
Clint‘s cock perked up as he imagined the scene unfolding, with Tyler over his knee, the two of them taking turns at that hard, sexy ass. His cabin offered a good deal of privacy, secluded as it was from the rest of the ranch. Maybe he could convince Tyler to stay a while longer. Maybe they could even leave the ranch, and camp out at his favorite site, a few miles off the beaten trails of the national parks. Jonas and Clint had discovered the spot years ago, a secluded bit of real oasis smack in the middle of the West Texas desert, surrounded by mountains and complete with its own lake.
Clint looked up as he heard the sound of Jonas‘ truck rumbling down the dirt road that led to Clint‘s cabin. Clint hopped down from the tractor, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.
He watched as Jonas climbed out of the truck. He had a cooler in tow, which Clint knew was filled with long-necked bottles of cold beer. Jonas glanced around. Where‘s your new friend? We got unfinished business. He grinned.
Clint looked at his watch. You‘re early. Eager, huh?
Jonas laughed, ducking his head in agreement. You got you a live one there, Clint. I ain‘t seen you so fired up about anyone since…well, not since we was young.
We‘re still young, Clint said with a smile. And yeah, he admitted. Fired up is one way of puttin‘ it. He‘s under my skin, that‘s for sure.
They walked together the short distance to Clint‘s cabin. I‘ll be right back, Clint said. Just goin‘ to wash up and change. Make yourself at home. He nodded toward the sitting area he‘d created out back, which included two sturdy but weather-beaten old chairs across from a low, wide bench. A squat wooden barrel that served as a table sat between them.
Jonas set the cooler on the ground beside the table and reached inside for a bottle. He turned one of the chairs backwards and straddled it, stretching his long legs out on either side. I‘ll be waitin‘. He tipped his beer and took a long drink.
Clint went inside, glancing around the one-room cabin, with its screened-off bedroom, living area and compact kitchen. His battered guitar was leaning against the scuffed old leather sofa beside a pile of notebooks he used to scribble his ideas and poems in. He glanced at the iron bedstead at the end of the room, imagining Tyler there, stretched out naked.
Turning on the shower, he stripped off his sweat and grease stained clothing and stepped into the stall. He gripped his cock a long, lingering moment, imagining Tyler kneeling there at his feet, mouth open, face tilted up eagerly to accept his cock. Forcing the image away, he soaped up quickly, wanting to be outside when Tyler arrived.
Clint dried himself and dressed in fresh jeans and a black T-shirt, trading out his scuffed work boots for his favorite pair of black alligator boots. Glancing at his watch again, he went back outside and sat beside Jonas. He accepted a bottle of beer and took a long swig. He glanced again at his watch, wondering if maybe it wasn‘t working right, as the hands didn‘t seem to be moving.
What time you got? he asked Jonas, starting to rise from the chair. Maybe he‘d just check around front.
You know I don‘t wear a watch. Jonas grinned. Now sit your ass down. He‘ll get here when he gets here.
Clint sat down. Maybe I should call him. It‘s easy to get confused when you‘re tryin‘ to get to the back of the property. He‘s never even been to the ranch. Could be he‘s lost.
Jonas smiled indulgently at Clint, shaking his head.
What?
You‘re fidgetin‘ like a kid waitin‘ for that three o‘clock bell to ring. Relax. He‘s got your cell number, right? Clint nodded. So he‘ll call if he needs to.
Clint grinned. You‘re right. I feel like a kid again, all right. Tyler burst into my life like sunshine into a room I hadn‘t even realized had gone dark. Clint glanced worriedly at Jonas, afraid he‘d take offense to that remark, where none was meant. Hey, I didn‘t mean—
Jonas cut him off with a smile. I know you didn‘t, buddy. It‘s me, remember? We got our own special understandin‘. We‘re friends first, don‘t forget that. I know I won‘t. I‘m happy for you. Truly I am. His face clouded a little. That is, it‘s great to see you so excited about somethin‘. He‘s got to be pretty special, to have affected you like this. I can‘t remember when you‘ve been so riled about someone new. But, I guess I‘m wonderin‘… he trailed off.
Wonderin�
�…? Clint prompted.
Well, he‘s a city boy, right? In the area on assignment, but then what? You gonna start some long-distance thing? How‘s that gonna play out? Have you thought of that?
Sure, I‘ve thought of it, Clint said, annoyed, though he knew that wasn‘t fair. Jonas was only pointing out what he‘d been thinking about himself. He forced a laugh. Shit, listen to us. I‘ve only known the guy a few days and you got us movin‘ in together. You that eager to get rid of me?
Jonas shook his head. You know better than that, Clint. Clint did know better. He could no more imagine his life without Jonas in it than he could imagine living in New York City.
Clint jumped up. You know, I think I better wait in the front of the cabin. He might not realize we‘re out back.
Jonas chuckled and nodded. You go on. You ain‘t gonna rest till he gets here.
Clint walked to the front of his place and waited, sipping his beer and letting his mind drift. Jonas was right—he was riled all right. He couldn‘t seem to get enough of the eager, sexy young man who had fallen into his life like a gift from the heavens. They‘d only been apart a day and already it felt like way too long.
It was only a few minutes after eight when Tyler‘s car appeared at the bend in the dirt road. Clint waved and Tyler, catching sight of him, waved back. He parked his car and climbed out. He looked good, real good, in a tight white T-shirt that molded against his broad shoulders and barely contained his biceps.
As they approached one another, he could smell the scent of fresh soap on Tyler‘s skin. He resisted his impulse to take Tyler into his arms then and there, still mindful of being on the ranch, even if they were far from prying eyes. Once in the back of the cabin however, he wrapped his arms around Tyler as he bent him back in a kiss that left no doubt who was in charge.
He could feel the change come over Tyler as he kissed him—the easing of Tyler‘s muscles as he surrendered into Clint‘s grasp, his lips parting, his cock hardening against Clint‘s thigh. He loved the way Tyler responded to the control he exerted, and it just made him want him all the more.
When he finally let Tyler go, Clint was momentarily surprised by the sound of Jonas‘ voice. He‘d actually forgotten Jonas was there. Whoo wee! Jonas laughed. The two a‘ you got it bad.
Tyler whirled toward Jonas, flushing slightly. Oh, he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hi Jonas. I guess I didn‘t see you there.
No, I reckon you didn‘t. Y‘all only had eyes for each other. Jonas grinned, winking at Clint. Clint had a moment‘s worry—was Jonas as okay with this as he seemed? He studied his old friend‘s face a moment, but saw nothing there but Jonas‘ big smile.
Jonas stood and moved toward Tyler, holding out a bottle. Care for a beer?
Tyler nodded. Thanks.
The three of them settled in chairs, Jonas again straddling the back of his.
So, how did the investigatin‘ go? Clint asked Tyler. Did you get to talk to that rascal?
Tyler shook his head. Doc Crawford posted his bail early this morning. I went by the trailer park where he lives, but I couldn‘t get anyone to answer the door. I took a few pictures but that was that. I did talk to the doc, who filled me in some about Steve‘s life. He‘s barely twenty and has no family to speak of. His father was a heavy drinker who died young and his mother just passed away last year from cancer. He‘s got a sister off in Houston or somewhere but she never makes it back home. Doc Crawford has kind of taken Steve under his wing, so he took this thing pretty hard. He said Steve‘s short on judgment but underneath it has a good heart.
Apparently Steve wasn‘t even aware of the value the semen he stole. He was more focused on the worth of the tanks themselves, and was turning them over to this older guy who lived in the same trailer park and had talked Steve into doing the thefts for some quick cash. That guy‘s been picked up for questioning, and they got a warrant to search his trailer. Some of the tanks were still there and will be returned to their owners.
Well, that‘s good news, Clint said. At least the thefts will stop now. He smiled at Tyler. I guess we made a pretty good team, huh? He didn‘t voice the question that followed this remark—what happens now?
To the cowboy crime fighters, Jonas said, lifting his beer bottle in salute. He handed them each a fresh bottle and they watched the sun setting bronze against the darkening sky as they drank their beer. Bullfrogs and cicadas serenaded them in the purpling twilight.
Tyler leaned back in his chair. This is the life, he said with a contented sigh. I didn‘t realize how much I missed the country since I moved to Austin. What made you leave? Jonas asked.
Clint watched the struggle work its way over Tyler‘s face as he formed an answer. Tyler hunched his shoulders a little and took a long drink before answering. When he finally spoke, it seemed to Clint he wasn‘t saying what was uppermost in his mind.
Well, my standard answer is I always wanted to be a writer. A reporter on a newspaper with a beat of my own. I actually got a degree in journalism—well, he amended, I minored in it, while studying animal science at A&M.
You didn‘t tell me you‘d hooked up with a brainiac, Jonas said to Clint with a wink.
Nah. Tyler scowled. I went to school because my father said so. I would have rather stayed on the ranch, riding the horses all day. But he was bound and determined someone in the family was going to college, and that someone happened to be me. I‘m not sorry, in retrospect, but at the time I just saw it as one more way for him to control me.
Sounds like maybe you left the ranch to assert your independence too, Jonas observed.
Yeah. Tyler glanced at Clint and then stared at the ground. You could say that, I guess.
You miss ridin‘? Clint asked.
Tyler nodded. Something fierce. I haven‘t seen Star, my mare, since I left six months ago.
You haven‘t been back since then? Jonas asked.
Tyler shook his head. My sister, Sarah, takes good care of her. We talk on the phone from time to time. She‘ll never leave the place. They‘ll take over one day, if my dad ever hands over the reins.
Well, we got a couple good horses in the stables, Ty, Clint said. How bout I‘ll hook you up in the morning for nice ride? Nothing like watching the sun rise while on the back of a horse with the wind flyin‘ at your back. We get out early enough, I‘ll have time to go with you.
That‘d be great. Tyler turned a grateful smile in Clint‘s direction, who smiled back.
After a while Jonas turned to Clint. Look-a-here, he said, flashing a grin as he rubbed at his jaw. I do believe I got a bruise from that boy of yours. We were gonna do somethin‘ about that, weren‘t we? A paddlin‘ to teach the boy some manners?
Clint laughed, taking up the thread. Why, we sure was, Jonas. Good thing you reminded me. I bet Tyler here is more than ready to make up for his misdeeds. Right, Ty? You ready for that spankin‘ we promised you?
Chapter 8
Tyler looked from Clint to Jonas and back to Clint, his heart suddenly in his throat. He‘d been so focused on researching his story and writing up his notes that he‘d almost forgotten the sexy promise of the spanking.
He stood, backing away from the two cowboys, a nervous grin breaking out on his face. Gosh, he said, stalling for time. I was so busy today. My mind‘s been on other things.
That‘s okay, Clint said, his dark eyes gleaming. He stood as well. We remembered for you. Might as well take it like a man.
Yes, indeed, Jonas said, rubbing his big hands together with such exaggerated glee that it made Tyler laugh, despite the bubbles of nervousness that had suddenly popped into his stomach. You can throw a punch like a man—let‘s see how well you take what‘s comin‘ to ya‘.
You‘ll have to catch me first, old man! With a laugh, Tyler turned, making a sudden sprint toward the copse of trees that edged the property.
He must be talkin‘ bout you, Jonas, Clint laughed.
Oh, yeah? Jonas roared in mock anger. You‘re gonna pay for that o
ne, blondie!, Moving faster than his girth should have allowed, in seconds Jonas was on Tyler, catching him from behind in a bear hug that actually lifted Tyler off the ground.
You‘re gonna pay for that old man comment, Jonas bellowed. Tyler tried to twist out of the strong man‘s arms, but dissolved into embarrassed laughter when Jonas blew raspberries on the back of his neck.
When Jonas set him down Tyler twisted suddenly, ready to sprint away again, but this time Clint was right there in front of him, blocking his retreat. All three of them were laughing as they tussled, but Tyler was no match for the two of them.
Between them, they wrestled the still struggling and laughing Tyler back to the wide bench. Clint sat down on one end of the bench and maneuvered Tyler across his knees. The bench was low enough that Tyler‘s head nearly touched the grass on one side of Clint, his ass on Clint‘s lap, his legs stretched out along the bench.
Jonas knelt down on one knee in a kind of crouch in front of Tyler‘s head, catching his wrists in one big paw. Tyler pulled against Jonas‘ iron grip, a sudden clutch of panic rising in his gut. While he couldn‘t deny that something about being held down as he was sent a jolt of pure lust hurtling through his cock, at the same time he knew deep down it was wrong. What was it that made him long for this type of rough treatment? What sickness lingered inside him that made it, for him, so much more than a game?
Tyler lifted his head, locking eyes for a moment with the big man, wondering if Jonas, or Clint for that matter, had any idea of the depths of his need to feel the pain and submit to the humiliation. If they knew, would they still be laughing?
Lucky boy, Jonas mouthed, winking broadly at Tyler, and Tyler knew for certain that for him it was just a game.
Clint leaned over him, his breath warm on Tyler‘s cheek. He must have sensed something in Tyler‘s demeanor or body language, because his voice was gentle, its tone coaxing. Hey, relax, he said. We‘re just havin‘ fun, okay? If it doesn‘t suit you, say the word. As Clint spoke, he pushed his hand up under Tyler‘s T-shirt, stroking his back. The hand moved down, massaging his ass cheeks through his jeans.
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