by Julia Talbot
Sweet touches. Eager ones that drove Hank to distraction. They got Hank undressed too, though he didn't know how with the tremor in his hands. Still, when Jasper stroked his throat, down his chest and arms and over his hips, Hank thought he'd gone straight to heaven, giving him the gumption to kiss and nibble at Jasper's clean, winter-pale skin, to touch the quivering belly and finally the hard cock he'd never felt nor seen 'til now.
Jasper moaned for him, the sound low and desperate, and Hank thought of the things he's learned back in his days as a young buck, back when his oats were wild. He could do that. Surely he could.
So he slipped down and put his mouth there, right where the loose fold of skin pulled away from the head of Jasper's prick, and he sucked, pulling the head all the way into his mouth. Jasper like to had a convulsion, hollering and holding his hair, pulling at it so that Hank thought he's lose a piece of it, for sure.
Shivering and moaning, Jasper arched up, pushing in and out. "Hank. Gonna..."
Pulling away, Hank stroked Jasper with his hand until the kid spent in with great jerks of his hips, his breath sobbing in and out.
"Aw, Hank, I never knew a man could do anything like that."
"It was right, though. Good?"
"It was. What... Can I? How can I make you feel good too?"
His cheeks heated almost painfully. "Remember what you did the last."
Jasper smiled, sleepy-eyed and shy, reaching down. "Uh huh. This?"
The first touch of Jasper's hand on him had him groaning, had his body jerking worse than the fever shivers he'd had after that night out in the rain. The accidental scrape of Jasper's thumbnail on the underside had him spending, his prick throbbing, his belly tight and hard as a board.
A chuckle fanned warm and damp on his cheek. "Aw, that must have been it, huh, Hank?"
He just laughed and patted Jasper's back, too out of breath to answer for a bit. When he could talk again he just said it as simply as he could. "Yeah, pard. That was it. Just like that."
Looked like wintering in the mountains might be a fine idea after all. With the best saddle partner in the world a man could ask for, Hank figured he couldn't go wrong.
***
Spring came late at seven thousand feet, and Hank decided not to go to town until the snow started to run off. The ranch had sent up supplies and their pay, but the bossman had been so pleased with their few losses of his cattle that he'd asked them to stay on to move the herd.
"Whatca think?" he'd asked Jasper, and had gotten a careless shrug and a bright grin in return.
"I like it just you and me, Hank."
So did he, so he just nodded and set to making a list of the things they'd need when they rode up into Cloudcroft. They had a pack mule now, ranch owned, but theirs for sure, so they could load up, and carry the remainder with them when they moved on up to higher pastures.
"Get a move on, Jasper. We're gonna have to ride to make it by dark."
"Nag."
"Layabout."
Folks who used to know him wouldn't believe how old Silent Hank talked nowadays. Jasper and him, they had an easy way, settling in together over the long winter, conversing about everything and nothing, talking about family and their old homes, about what had happened in El Paso and about what had happened since.
So it kind of came as a surprise to both of them how he clammed right up, the closer they got to town.
Even his mare felt his tension through his legs, dancing and snorting, until finally Jasper stopped in a copse of trees about a mile from town, arms crossed on the saddle horn, leaning and looking.
"Aw, Hank. You look plumb nervous."
"Gonna be right odd, being among civilized folks again, is all."
Jasper snorted, making the mules ears twitch. "I hear tell it's railroad men and miners hereabouts Hank. They ain't exactly gentlemen."
"No. And they won't cotton to what all we get up to, Jasper."
Leather creaked as Jasper sat back in the saddle, pushing his hat up to show his wide eyes, blue as the sky overhead. "What kind of knee-deep fool do you think I am, Hank?"
"Well, I don't think you're a fool at all. But I do know how you tend to borrow trouble. We just need to watch ourselves, is all."
He'd need to heed the warning as well as Jasper. He'd gotten used to touching whenever he pleased, just little things like a hand on the small of Jasper's back.
"We'll do. Come on, now, 'fore it starts to get really cold out here."
They settled at the Lodge, their brand new pay burning a hole in their pockets enough that they splurged on baths and shaves, as well as new suits of clothes and new hats. The boot maker would wait until morning.
This time Hank let himself look while they bathed, let himself enjoy the sight of Jasper, wet and nude, scrubbing up in his little tub, humming "Dem Golden Slippers”. They were alone, for the most part, not even a towel negro or Chinaman to see, so Hank allowed himself to touch too, stroking his cock in time with Jasper's motions. When Jasper looked up and saw him he thought the kid might drown himself, so much did he splutter and splash but soon enough they were both spending, cocks in hands, eyes locked to each other's.
They made a picture, if he did say so himself, sporting fine new feathers and walking down the way from the hotel to the saloon. Jasper looked a sight to behold, hair slicked back, new pants pressed and clean, his face shaved of its blonde winter bristles. The feeling that swelled in his chest and throat near choked him it came so strong.
Hank purely did love that boy. Not in the far off admiring way he had more'n a year ago. No, this was the love a man had for the person who'd become his whole world.
So wrapped up in his thoughts was he that Hank didn't even see the feller that stepped out in front on him until it was near too late, making him stop short up on the tippy-toes of his boots.
"Well, howdy," he said, clawing his hat off his nose. "What can I do you for?"
"I think I know you from somewheres, mister."
When he finally got a gander at his assailant, his heart sank. Surely the Lord had a plan, bringing this Bar D drover this far north. Surely.
He opened his mouth to commence with the lying, but the words never made it out, cut off by Jasper's cold, "I don't think so, friend. My pard and I, here, we ain't never seen you before."
That cowboy knew them, that was for sure, because he got an ugly, stubborn look on his face and balled up his fists, looking ready to take on the world and loaded for bear. "I'm thinking you're wrong about that, boy. Back in El Paso."
"We ain't never been to El Paso."
The steel in that claim brooked no argument, and Hank stared at Jasper, amazed when the kid pulled back his coat and put his hand on his gun. Jasper wore his gun. In town. To protect him. Well, damn.
"You ain't heard the last of this."
Jasper just smiled, though it was more a baring of teeth. "Sure we have. We're the ones up here who've got friends, got an in with the boss. Isn't that so, Hank?"
"Sure it is." When he thought about it, he realized it was true. Especially when a couple of the cowboys they knew from supply runs drifted out of the saloon, hard eyes taking in the scene as they fell in behind Hank and Jasper. "I think you'd best head on out, now. We don't want no trouble."
Sure enough, the feller just slunk away, the others clapping him and Jasper on the back and going back to their drinking and carousing. Hank just wanted to take Jasper back to the hotel and, well…thank him.
"You stood up for me right nice there, Jasper." He grinned, rocking from toes to heels, practically thrumming with need.
Jasper just smiled slow and turned back down the boardwalk, that sweet little cowboy butt just a'swinging. Hank followed, laughing right out loud when Jasper said, "What are partners for if not that, Hank?"
Partners were good for a lot of things, Hank had found. He'd be happy to show Jasper some more when they got to their room. After all, there were some things a man just oughta keep private. Hank didn't mind b
eing silent about him and Jasper. He knew what was what, and it was more than he ever thought he'd have.
He'd take it and be grateful, and thank the good Lord every day for sending that stubborn, fool kid his way.
What else could a sensible cowboy do?
Parttners on the Trail
Copyright © 2005 by Julia Talbot
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.
Printed in the United States of America.
Torquere Press: Single Shot electronic edition / November 2005
Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.
