by Lynn Stark
“We need to get going.”
“It’s kind of far off, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. That bear can run as fast as our horses. He can close the distance between us in no time. I don’t want to give him a reason to chase us. I don’t think he’s scented our food yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
He gathered the food and shoved it into the leather pack with Peyton’s help. Then they were heading toward their horses. Brag attached the pack behind his saddle and swung up into the seat. The bear was still moving along without showing any interest in them, but it was still heading in their direction. The best thing for all involved was to put some distance between them and the bear. Avoiding a confrontation was the wise thing. If the bear attacked, it could mean a death sentence for the animal, never mind the injuries Brag, Peyton, and the horses could sustain.
Brag would prefer to keep them all safe, including the headstrong dog. Despite being well-trained, Pee Wee sometimes chose to not hear a command. It was one thing for the darn animal to chase a ground squirrel into his burrow, quite another to taunt a bear.
Riding off at an easy pace to prevent triggering the bear’s instinct to chase them, they headed home. Neither of them mentioned the kiss or where it might have led. After a few minutes, Peyton stopped and turned his horse. “Look.”
Brag looked. The bear was now at the place they had left, standing with his front feet on the rock where they had shared their first kiss, his sensitive nose in the air. “They’re better than bloodhounds. Let’s get going. If he follows, I’ll have to make a call.”
There were people with specially trained dogs that would come in and deal with the bear, making it clear that people were no fun and that snooping around them would lead to a lot of noise, barking, chasing dogs, and the sting of bean bags or rubber bullets against their thick hides. Bears were smart and it didn’t take much to make them avoid humans if there was enough incentive.
But someone else could deal with the bear. When they got home, Brag wanted to pick up where they left off. They didn’t have to have sex. That could wait. He did, however, want to be certain the kiss hadn’t been a fluke. Did Peyton want more?
In the end, they delayed their return. They rode toward the other end of the valley, Peyton wanting to give Kroenraad enough exercise to keep the gelding happy. When they returned home they took care of their horses, rubbing them down and putting them outside. They had discovered that Brag’s horses distracted Peyton’s from picking at each other. They paired up, each having a new buddy, able to graze and play without too many dustups between Zappa and Kroenraad.
“Dee Dee told me she was making spaghetti for supper. Do you want to come over?” Peyton asked, referring to the woman he’d hired to take care of the house while he worked.
The widow had needed the income and Brag was glad it had worked out. Her primary job was to clean, but she occasionally cooked. So far he hadn’t heard any complaints from Peyton. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“She said she’s making homemade meatballs and sauce. I can’t wait to try it. It’ll sure beat some of the stuff I’ve thrown together for myself lately. I’m always glad when it’s suppertime on a day she’s cooked, so I can pig out.”
Brag laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not a bad cook, but lately, if I can’t heat it up in the microwave, I head over to my parent’s house for supper. My mama didn’t raise no dummy.”
“I’m sure she didn’t,” Peyton agreed and laughed. “Well, I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I need to get in there now to see how many treats Cupcake and King have gotten out of Dee Dee. I told her to be tough, but they have the puppy eyes down like experts.”
Personally, Brag couldn’t imagine the two fierce-looking dogs making puppy eyes, but he supposed it was possible. He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you around seven.”
“Seven,” Peyton agreed and headed toward the house.
Watching the other man walk away was a pleasure. Brag’s gaze skimmed over the athletic, trim figure. He wanted to see every inch of it naked, and the very thought was enough to heat him up again.
Brag finished up in the barn before heading to his house. There was a shower and a fantasy waiting for him. Pee Wee jumped onto the chair on the small porch and curled up, obviously having no intention of returning home. Brag shrugged. Evidently, the dog had enough exercise and excitement for one day, leaving Brag to go inside alone. He tossed his hat onto the counter and toed out of his boots. Then he was stripping off his shirt as he headed to his bedroom. The house was small, but it suited Brag’s needs.
Undressed, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The erection jutting from his groin hadn’t lessened since parting from Peyton. The man was a fantasy come true, and Brag was about to use his imagination to take care of the heat coursing through his veins.
Steam billowed around him as Brag stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him. He didn’t waste any time. Grabbing the waterproof lube off the shelf, he opened it and squeezed a generous amount into his palm. He closed the bottle and set it aside as he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around his aching cock, a low moan escaping his lips as he coated the length with lube. With his back to the spray and his eyes closed, Brag had no trouble imagining Peyton in the shower with him, on his knees and taking the head of Brag’s cock into his mouth.
Brag’s legs trembled as excitement began to rise, warning him that this might be the mother of all orgasms.
The mental image of Peyton sucking on the head of his cock as droplets of water hit his face and clung to his eyelashes and lips caused pleasure to rush through Brag. The man’s tongue would swirl around the head, the tip darting into the small slit where the pre-cum leaked steadily. Peyton was moaning as he took inch after inch of Brag’s dick into his mouth. Brag watched it disappear and shuddered with excitement. Long, slender fingers tenderly stroked his balls, teasing them, tugging the skin slightly as his control began to slip away. The man kneeling before him was creating sensations he had never experienced before. He didn’t know if it was the man himself or simply his skills as a lover. Either way, Brag was captivated in more ways than one.
Brag’s fantasy ended abruptly as cum spurted in long, silky ropes from the tip of his cock. He fell forward weakly and braced himself against the wall as his legs shook as if he stood on unsteady ground. The water continued to pound against his back.
He dragged the steamy air into his lungs as he stared at the tiles on the wall. As he did so, Brag wondered if the reality would be as good as the fantasy.
Chapter Five
There were only so many ways a man could pleasure himself in the shower. Peyton chose reclining on the teak bench, with one foot braced on it, as he pushed a thick dildo in and out of his aching ass. A steamy mist from the shower coated his already hot skin. His eyes were closed. It was easier that way to imagine Brag there between his legs, pushing them wide as he rammed the length of his cock into Peyton’s willing body over and over again.
The man set up an almost punishing pace, which was perfectly fine with Peyton. He enjoyed a tough lover, not an abusive one. Roger had been something of a wimp in bed, only doing enough to satisfy himself. The beating he’d given Peyton is where he had excelled.
Peyton shoved thoughts of the bastard out of his mind as he tried to creep in. Brag was the only man he wanted. Roger was, thankfully, a part of his past, and he wouldn’t allow him to have influence over him any longer.
Moans and cries escaped Peyton’s lips as he rubbed the head of the dildo over his ultra-sensitive gland. Cum erupted from his cock, splattering over his abs and chest. His balls pulled close to his body as he found momentary relief. The strength left his body. It felt as if he was boneless as steam billowed around him. He opened his eyes after a few moments and withdrew the dildo.
A part of him wished he had waited for Brag to give him this pleasure, but the desire he was feeling had morphed into lust, and that lust was making
him crazy. He’d needed relief. There was no surprise that what he was feeling for the other man was so intense. Brag was certainly the most attractive man Peyton had ever met. Although Peyton believed Brag was also the most handsome man he’d ever seen. Almost everything inside Peyton told him that Brag was the man for him.
However, there was a sliver of doubt. Once again, Roger was crowding in where he wasn’t wanted. Roger had seemed like a good match. Only time had revealed flaw after flaw in the man’s character. It had cost Peyton dearly, and he’d nearly paid the ultimate price with his life.
Weak, legs shaky, Peyton stood and decided he should finish the shower he hadn’t started. He chuckled and reached for the soap, hoping as he did so that sometime in the near future he and Brag could play together in the shower or in the tub large enough for four people. Either would be good.
Peyton dressed with care. While he didn’t want to be obvious, he still wanted to look good for Brag. He styled his hair with equal attention to detail, grimacing when he realized he needed a haircut. It looked like there was a trip to Silver in his near future. He would have to see if Dee Dee needed anything for the house. The woman was a gem and he was glad he was able to help her and her family out by providing employment for her.
When King and Cupcake sat up on the bed, their ears alert, Peyton knew Brag had arrived. He shooed them off the bed, smoothed the thick, navy blue comforter covering, and then herded both out of the room. If he hadn’t, he knew they would be back on the bed. Because Peyton had high hopes of using the bed for something other than a sleeping place for him or his dogs that night, he shut the door after he stepped out.
Brag was standing on the other side of the back door, looking in with a grin on his face. The sight of it was enough to make Peyton’s heart race slightly with excitement. Did the man even know how gorgeous he was? Peyton doubted it. Brag seemed to be completely unaware of his attractiveness. He didn’t preen and pose like so many men Peyton had encountered in his past. That was definitely a good thing. He didn’t need or want another like Roger.
“Come on in. You don’t have to knock.”
“Well, I won’t now,” Brag told him as he stepped into the kitchen. “Mmm, smells great in here.”
“Dee Dee’s homemade sauce with meatballs is in the slow-cooker. Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Wine? Something stronger, maybe?”
“Beer’s fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Peyton went to the refrigerator to get a beer for Brag. Then he went to the wine cooler and took out a bottle of red wine. “I think Dee Dee has everything ready to go. It won’t take much. Why don’t you sit and relax?” Brag pulled out one of the tall stools on the opposite side of the large island. “Would you like a glass for your beer?”
“Sure. Keep it fancy.”
Laughing, Peyton shook his head as he took a beer glass down from the cupboard. “I rarely do fancy.” He glanced around. “It still amazes me that my father did all this for me. It shows how well he knew what I liked. If he had re-done the style Aunt Nella had, I would have been horrified.” She had enjoyed florals and lace in abundance. The colors of the rooms had been varying shades of purple. A shudder ran through him as he recalled it. “I can’t believe you lived here.”
“Well, it was either live here or continue living with my parents and brothers.” Broad shoulders shrugged as Brag chuckled. “Actually, I only lived here until the old caretaker’s house was finished. Then your father had me keep an eye on things for him over here when the remodel began.”
“I appreciate that. I had no idea he was doing this. The cancer really took its toll. But even on his worst days, I saw this sparkle in his eyes. I know now it was mischief. He did love a good joke. And he loved to surprise Mom and me.” Feeling his throat tighten, Peyton swallowed and took a deep breath. He smiled. “Anyway, you did a lot to help my father and that’s something I’ll always be grateful for.”
The color rose in Brag’s face, brightening cheeks slightly rosy from the sun and wind. “It was a pleasure. Your father was one of the good guys. Working with him was an honor.”
The sincere words were some Peyton would never forget. He would attach them to memories of his father, of what his father had done for him, essentially creating a new life for Peyton when all had gone to hell. If it had been left up to him, he would have stayed in Connecticut, spent twenty hours a day writing, and grown old alone, with only intermittent hook-ups to alleviate the boredom and ease his needs. His father had known that Peyton needed to be pushed—no, shoved—into making a positive change to his life, where he wouldn’t be constantly be reminded of the parents he had lost and the man who had tried to kill him.
Of course Peyton would never forget his parents. But he was far away from where Roger lived, worked, and prowled. His expensive lawyer had kept him out of going to jail for beating Peyton. It was just as well Peyton had moved thousands of miles across the country. There was no chance of bumping into him as he probably would have done if he continued to live in Connecticut.
Once Peyton had opened the bottle of wine, he went to put the garlic bread in the oven, as instructed by Dee Dee. He frowned when he went for the plates and found the good ones where the everyday dishes had been put. He glanced in a couple of cupboards, but couldn’t find them. Calling her was out of the question.
“Problems?” Brag asked.
“Uh, no. Just can’t remember where I put things. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.” He suspected Dee Dee was up to no good. Was she trying to play cupid? Bless her heart.
Taking the plates, he carried them to the island and set them down. Brag took it from there, placing the two dinner plates suspiciously close. Peyton blinked. They were closer than he would have put them. If they remained where they were, Brag’s and his arms would touch as they sat beside each other. Peyton turned away and went to get silverware and napkins, hoping his growing erection would remain hidden. When he turned back around, he saw that Brag was lighting a candle, one of the two tapers from the dining room table. He jolted to a stop in surprise. Brag hadn’t made a sound. How had he made it to the table and back without being heard?
There was a smug expression on Brag’s face. “I thought candlelight was more pleasing than the overhead light,” he said by way explanation.
“It is.” One candle didn’t provide a lot of light, so Peyton left the light on over the stove but turned off the suspended lights over the island and the recessed lighting in the ceiling. Brag helped him put spaghetti into a large serving bowl. Then he watched as Peyton scooped the thick sauce from the slow-cooker into a separate bowl with the meatballs. His stomach grumbled. “This looks as good as it smells.”
“It does,” Brag agreed. “I’ll take these, if you want to get the bread out of the oven.”
“Thanks.”
It didn’t take nearly long enough to get the bread out of the oven and find the chunk of parmesan cheese Dee Dee had bought. Peyton took a deep breath and walked around the island to take the seat beside Brag. He had been right. There wasn’t much room between them. In fact, he could feel the heat of the man’s body through the sleeves of his shirt. His dick was still hard, making it slightly uncomfortable to sit, and his nipples were puckering. At this rate, he would probably come before the end of the meal.
“Do you want some cheese on your spaghetti?”
Peyton blinked. Brag had put spaghetti on his plate and covered it with sauce, adding three meatballs. He was now holding the cheese and the small grater. “Yes, please.”
Their shared meal was both too short and too long. Peyton was about to crawl out of his skin. His desire was at an all-time high, making him ready to rip off his clothes and spread himself out on the island for Brag’s pleasure.
The thought caused his cock to throb.
After clearing everything away, he turned toward Brag. “Why don’t we go outside to enjoy the evening?”
If Peyton believed going outside would give his hormones a re
prieve, he was mistaken. Or, perhaps, sitting on the lounger wide enough for two people to share comfortably had been a way to consciously take the choice out of his hands. Brag sat down beside him and, without any conversation, they stared out at the mountains in the distance. The moonlight illuminated peaks and deepened shadows, creating mystery and tantalizing Peyton’s imagination. It was never far away, that part of him that always wanted a story to be written.
“You know, if you need inspiration,” Brag said, breaking the silence between them, “there’s a historic hotel a few miles from here that’s been restored. It’s reputedly haunted. There are reports of weird things happening all the time. Evidently, the ghosts aren’t shy about making their presence known.”
Peyton sat up and turned slightly so he could see Brag’s face. “Seriously?”
“Yep. The place was completely redone a few years ago and has become an attraction for tourists, ghost hunters, and those just wanting a beautiful place to relax for a few days or weeks. The former owner, who’s still a resident there, is one hundred and ten years old.”
“Amazing! I bet he has stories to tell.”
Brag chuckled. “Your bet would pay off. Bert sits in the lobby every morning for about an hour, and an hour in the afternoon, to speak with the guests. They can’t get enough of him.”
“Do you think he would be willing to speak with me privately?”
“I imagine he would. He’s a lively old fellow, despite his age. And as sharp as a tack. It’s only his doctor who makes him limit his time working, otherwise Bert would spend all his time entertaining guests.”
“I suspect it’s half of what keeps him going,” Peyton surmised.
“I’m sure it is.” Long fingers took the glass from Peyton’s hand and set it aside on a nearby table. Then Brag was leaning close, so their faces were only a couple of inches apart. “I think we should talk about something else now. Like what you and I are going to do about this hard-on you’ve been sporting for the last hour or so.”
