Bond of the Maleri’ 4, Ride Em Cowboy

by Kate Steele

  Miss Molly was a sedate bay mare with two white socks who walked up to Jace and Zeb, her nose questing over Jace’s pockets for treats. Jace pulled a carrot out of his pocket and held it out to her. Molly crunched it down and looked for more. “Here,” he handed Zeb a carrot. “Hold your hand palm up, fingers straight out. Wouldn’t want her accidentally nibbling off something you need.”

  Cautiously, Zeb did as he was told and was rewarded by the velvet soft brush of Molly’s nose against his palm as she delicately took the carrot from him. “Oh, she’s so soft.” Hesitantly, Zeb reached out to touch.

  “Go ahead, you can pet on her. Molly’s a doll baby. You’ll be riding her. And I’ll be riding that yahoo over there. Get your butt over here, Whirly.” The tall, rangy buckskin-colored horse Jace spoke to gave him a disdainful look and shook his head, his long mane flying. “He’s pissed cause he didn’t go out with the rest of the boys this mornin’.” Jace approached his horse, clucking and promising carrots. Whirly’s ears pricked forward and he deigned to let Jace feed him a couple of treats before following him to where Zeb and Molly waited.

  “Let’s saddle up. You say you learn fast?” Jace asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s test that. You watch while I get Whirly saddled and bridled, then you can give it a try with Molly. A man needs to know how to saddle his own horse.” Jace went about the business of getting Whirly ready with Zeb’s gaze resting intently on him. Whirly’s halter was replaced by bridle and bit. The saddle blanket, saddle and cinch followed. When he was done, Jace turned to Zeb. “Your turn,” he said, indicating Molly’s tack.

  Zeb followed Jace’s example. He was slower, his actions a bit more tentative and cautious, but he managed the feat with competence. Jace examined Molly’s tack, tightening the cinch before turning to Zeb.

  He gave him a nod. “Not bad. You do learn fast. Now let’s see if you can stay in the saddle. You don’t look soft like a good many city folk I see.”

  “I go to my local heath center every other day. Just because I sit behind a desk is no reason to be soft, as you put it.”

  Jace moved to Whirly to demonstrate mounting. “Left foot in the stirrup, haul yourself up, right leg over and plant your foot in the other stirrup. Go to it.” Again Zeb emulated Jace’s example. “Good,” Jace praised.

  He went on to explain the use of heel and reins, and the two of them left the barn at an easy walk. Jace carefully watched Zeb. The kid was taking to riding with ease. He kept a firm grip on the reins but wasn’t putting undue pressure on Molly’s mouth. He also had good balance and a natural seat. Actually, a nice, tight, round little seat that hugged the saddle like it was made to fit there.

  Jace’s fingers flexed on his own reins for a moment, hands itching to cup those tempting cheeks. He uttered a quick curse under his breath while his cock came to life. Saddles and hard-ons were unforgiving bedfellows and he gave his cock a surreptitious thump to make it behave. A grimace crossed his face just as Zeb and Molly dropped back beside him and Whirly.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Zeb asked, clearly concerned that the grimace was directed at him.

  “No, Zeb. I was just thinking about something,” Jace assured him, damn glad the kid had no idea just exactly what was going through his head. “Let’s try a slow lope. You up for it?”

  Zeb nodded and they took off across the open fields.

  They rode for a couple of hours, Jace checking various stretches of fence until he came to one with red pieces of cloth tied to it. The fence had been repaired by his men. The tracks of several trucks were impressed into the grass and dirt. Jace stepped down off Whirly and bent to examine them. Zeb followed his lead. Some of the tracks followed the fence line coming from the direction of the ranch. Another set came from off over the range.

  “Damn,” Jace snarled.

  “What is it?” Zeb asked.

  “Cattle rustlers.”

  “What? I thought that was only in vids, um, movies.” He’d taken out his FGDL and was tapping away one handed at the keys.

  Jace stood and gave him a serious look. “Wish it was. See those tracks?” He pointed out the second set. “There’s a road about a mile away. These bastards drive in, cut through the fence and take down as many head as they can carry. They shoot ’em and butcher ’em right out here in the field, and truck the meat out to sell.”

  “But who would buy stolen meat?”

  “People who don’t know it’s stolen. They take it across the state and sell it out of nice, small, innocent looking refrigerated trucks. Sell it on street corners. Just a good ole boy givin’ a good deal on prime beef.”

  “Does this happen often?”

  “Now and then, but it’s escalated,” Jace explained. “Between Free Plains and the other ranches in the area, they’ve taken near a hundred head in the last six months.”

  “With all the cattle you have here,” Zeb gestured to the cows dotting the landscape, “how do you know how many you’ve lost?”

  Jace gave him a look, one brow raised. “They leave behind the parts they can’t use. Like the heads.”

  “Oh.” Zeb’s cheeks flushed and Jace noticed he was also starting to burn.

  “Yeah. If we had a clue where they might strike, we could put an end to this but with this much land to cover…” Jace shook his head. “Impossible. Come on, Zeb, it’s late. Sun’ll be goin’ down by the time we get back.”

  They mounted up. Jace became aware of the fact that Zeb didn’t seem to have as much spring as he did when they’d first headed out. Greenhorn kid’s gonna be sore tonight. He shrugged. Nothin’ he could do about that. His bosses sent him and the kid was gonna pay the price.

  By the time they got back and settled Molly and Whirly in their stalls, the sun was slipping down toward the horizon. Jace stopped at the bunkhouse to get a report from Rusty, and to introduce Zeb to him and the rest of the boys. Zeb shook hands all around and was polite, but Jace could see he was tired and hurting so he made it quick. By the time Zeb got the house, he was walking as gingerly as you please.

  “Sore?” Jace asked when they got inside and hung their hats on the hat rack by the front door.

  “Yeah.”

  “Go on up and run yourself a hot bath and soak. I’ll use the shower down here.”

  Zeb started upstairs and paused, turning back. “I’m sorry I’m taking up your time. I know you have better things to do than escort me around, but I do appreciate it. I… I liked Molly and the riding. I guess it’ll take me a while to get used to it. Probably by the time I do I’ll be leaving but, anyway, thank you. I appreciate your patience.”

  Jace looked up at Zeb, taking in the tired set of his shoulders, the lines of pain around his mouth and the sunburn glowing on his skin. He felt a slow smile spread across his lips and a wave of warmth within. “You got balls, Zeb. You’re a good man. Go on up and soak. I’ll have supper ready in about an hour. That suit you?”

  Zeb smiled back and nodded. It was a shy smile accompanied by another hint of a blush. Jace felt his innards clench. Zeb turned and continued his slow pace upstairs. Jace sucked in a deep breath and softly swore to himself. Fuck. The kid’s gonna keep me hard the entire time he’s here.

  He headed to the downstairs bathroom. Jace stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, standing under the hot spray, letting it soothe his taut muscles. The only thing that wouldn’t relax was his cock. It stood straight and stiff, fully aroused, refusing to relax. Jace soaped himself and took a firm hold of his rigid cock. Slow, deliberate strokes drew a moan from his lips as they parted.

  Heat surrounded him, the water sliding over his skin in a constant caress. He closed his eyes, his free hand planted against the shower wall as he pulled and stroked himself. Under the sound of the water he could hear his own breaths, faster and harder than normal. The undulations of his hips drove his cock through the tight tunnel of his fist, the pace matching the thudding pulse he felt against the palm of his hand.

 
He slid his thumb over the fat tip and groaned, his head falling back with the pleasure that swept up his spine. His body on automatic, he let his thoughts wander and found them filled with a pair of ice-blue eyes in a boyish face topped by dark blond hair. The thought of Zeb’s shy smile and trim body revved his engine. The thought of him naked in the tub upstairs brought the revving up to a scream. When he thought about bending him over, parting those sweet, plump cheeks and burying himself to the hilt, he popped a wheely and exploded.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled, hoarse and low, semen spilling over his hand to land with a splat against the shower wall.

  He slowed his stroke, easing out the final spurts as waves of pleasure shuddered over him. Knees near to buckling, he leaned against the shower wall until his strength returned, then quickly finished his shower and dried himself. He took a swipe at the steam clouded bathroom mirror with his towel and looked at his reflection while heaving a huge sigh. “S’pose it’d be a miracle if the kid swung my way.”

  He gave himself a self-deprecating grin and shook his head while wrapping the towel around his waist. Climbing the stairs he noted the closed bathroom door and heard a muffled splash. Zeb was in the tub. Naked. Jace paused for a split second, then forced himself to go on to his room. Once there, he dropped the towel and traded it for a soft pair of black sweats and a thin white tee shirt. Barefoot, he headed back down to rustle up supper for the two of them. If he paused at the bathroom door a second time, he didn’t acknowledge it, even to himself.

  * * *

  Zeb gingerly heaved himself out of the tub and patted himself dry with a towel. While the soak had helped a great deal with his sore muscles, his inner thighs were still tender. He opened the bathroom door and started across the hall to his room, halting at the faint sound of a voice. Jace was singing as he prepared supper. Zeb listened intently and realized there was music as well.

  He smiled and took a deep breath, his stomach rumbling at the delicious smells that wafted up the stairs from below. Entering his room, he dropped his towel and took out a pair of navy colored pants Rick called sweats. They were soft and light, something he knew his abused thighs would appreciate. Donning a light blue tee shirt, he fleetingly thought of shoes then shrugged. He never wore them while at home, and Rick and Kiel didn’t either. Maybe Jace would be all right with him being barefoot.

  When he entered the kitchen, he discovered he needn’t have worried about the shoes. Jace, too, was barefoot and dressed almost exactly the same as he was, the only difference being their choice of colors. Jace’s back was to him and Zeb used the time to admire the man. All day his awareness of Jace had grown, and despite his body being tired and sore, his cock still wanted to stand up and beg.

  Snapping his attention from Jace’s tight ass, Zeb cleared his throat. “Anything I can do to help?” he offered.

  Jace looked around and grinned. “Hey. Feeling better?”

  “Yes, almost normal.”

  “Good. There’s iced tea and lemonade in the fridge if you want to fill our glasses. I’ll have the iced tea. I fixed some fajita meat, steak. There’s tortillas and I’ve got cheese, salsa, sour cream, refried beans, lettuce and tomato to throw on ’em. It’s not fancy, but it’ll fill you up. There’s some chocolate cake in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer if you want dessert.”

  “It looks good. Smells good too.” Zeb poured the drinks, trying a sip each of lemonade and tea before deciding he liked the tea. “I heard you singing from upstairs. You have a nice voice.”

  Jace chuckled. “Thanks. Guess I can carry a tune well enough to keep the coyotes from howlin’.”

  Zeb smiled, pleased when he realized he’d made Jace blush for a change. The man was so confident, so in charge. It was nice to know he had some vulnerability. Made it easier to accept his own shortcomings.

  Jace placed a bowl filled with the steaming hot, seasoned pieces of steak on the table and gestured. “Have a seat and dig in.”

  Not sure where to start, Zeb hung back a bit and emulated Jace as he built his fajita. His first one had everything on it and Zeb devoured it like a starving man. It amazed him how a day of fresh air and exercise had affected his appetite. His second and third fajitas he fixed sans beans, deciding he didn’t care for the taste of them. His fourth was basically just meat, cheese and sour cream, and after eating it he was sure he’d had enough until Jace tempted him with chocolate cake.

  Together they cleaned up the remains of their meal. Zeb put things away in the fridge while Jace rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. “Are you planning to do anything specific now?” Zeb asked Jace as he closed the dishwasher and started the cycle.

  “Nope. Just thought I’d laze in front of the television for a while, maybe watch a movie then go to bed. You got something in mind?”

  “I was wondering if we could talk about ranching techniques. I could get my FGDL and start gathering the data my, um, clients need.”

  Jace shrugged. “Sure. Go get it. I’ll be in the living room.”

  Zeb nodded and hurried upstairs as quickly as his sore legs would let him. During the meal they’d begun to ache and grow stiff. He ignored the pain, grabbed his FGDL and joined Jace on the sofa in the living room. They talked for a couple of hours. Jace answered all his questions and offered things that Zeb wouldn’t have known to ask about. He ended up with stream after stream of info going into his computer and felt for the first time since he’d arrived that maybe, just maybe, his presence really was necessary here.

  Eventually they wound down and Jace turned on the television, telling Zeb he wanted to catch the news. They sat in silence, watching. Zeb was saddened by all the unrest and killings that seemed to plague Earth. While he didn’t understand their reasons, it seemed like such a waste for so many people to die in these wars their leaders seemed so fond of saying were necessary.

  Now that they were quiet, Zeb became hyper-aware of the man at his side. Jace’s scent, warm, musky and subtle drifted to him in teasing wafts. It was exciting and yet comforting as well. Zeb found himself relaxing, drifting, his eyelids fluttering closed as the drone of voices on the television continued.

  “Hey, Zeb. Time to wake up and go to sleep as the Three Stooges always say.”

  “Huh?” Zeb blinked his sleep heavy eyelids.

  “Never mind.” Jace chuckled. “Time for bed.”

  “Oh, all right.” Zeb started to rise and dropped back down on the sofa with a hiss and a groan. “Oh, damn that hurts!”

  Jace gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Your legs?”

  “Yes, and my skin is burning.”

  “I tried to warn you about that,” Jace told him. “Sit still a minute and let me get some stuff from the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  Zeb stayed seated, stretching his legs out and wiggling his ankles, working his calf muscles and generally trying to ease the kinks out. He frowned in concentration, grimacing with every twinge. It felt like his thighs were still wrapped around Molly, the muscles strained and aching.

  Jace came back with a large towel, a damp washcloth, a bottle of brown liquid and tube of something else. He placed everything on the floor, spreading the towel out, then held his hand out to Zeb. “Lemme help you up.”

  Zeb took his hand and with a groan but with surprisingly little effort on his part, got his feet under him. Jace was clearly very strong. “Thanks. Now what?” Zeb asked.

  “Now you drop your drawers.” Jace replied, his brown eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

  “Drop my drawers?”

  “You know, strip.”

  A shiver slid down Zeb’s spine. “And why am I doing this?”

  “Cause I can’t rub the liniment on your legs or the aloe gel on your sunburn with your clothes on.”

  “Oh.”

  Feeling a little lightheaded and very self conscious, Zeb stripped his tee shirt over his head and dropped it on the sofa. Keeping his eyes downcast, he slipped his sweats down, wondering what Jace
would think of his lack of underwear. With an effort, he stepped out of them and sent them to join his tee shirt. Was it his imagination that made him think he heard a small groan? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t hear very well over the pounding of his own heart.

  “Okay, um, lay down on the towel. Face down.”

  Gingerly Zeb complied and let loose another groan once he settled and the pressure was off his legs. He felt Jace settle at his side, heard the rustle of his clothing and the top being taken off the liniment bottle.

  “The smell of this stuff’ll make your eyes water but it’ll make you feel better. I guarantee it.”

  Zeb closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. At the first touch of Jace’s hands, warm and wet with liniment, he was unable to suppress the small moan that crawled from deep inside his chest. Jace’s hands settled on the back of his thigh and massaged the tight, tender muscles until they grew loose and pliant. His hands moved down the length of Zeb’s leg and spent some time on his calf muscles as well, his fingers digging in and loosening the knots.

  Zeb sighed with growing relief and growing arousal. With the pain being massaged away and his muscles going lax, his body was concentrating on tightening another part of his anatomy. His cock was filling and he lifted slightly to ease the ache and give it room before settling back on the towel. Embarrassing as it was, there was nothing he could do about it, at least not at the moment. So he merely concentrated on the heat and comfort Jace’s hands were bestowing.

  Jace moved to his other leg and started at the calf this time, working his way up. As his hands moved higher, Zeb could feel his arousal climb up his spine like mercury in a thermometer. It was all he could do not to start humping the towel.

  Jace’s hands had reached the back of his thigh when Jace spoke, his voice husky and strained. “Spread your legs for me, babe.” Both of them froze.

  Chapter Three

  “Spread your legs for me, babe, um, Zeb.” Jace corrected quickly and started silently cursing himself for being every kind of a damn fool at the slip.