by Lynn Stark
Kissing Brag would have been so simple, but he was enjoying the play between them. Brag’s hand was on his waist and the man was definitely in his space now. Peyton didn’t mind in the least. Although his dick had softened slightly for a while, giving him some relief, the blood was now surging to it once again.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you came back,” Brag continued.
“You have, huh?” It wasn’t the cleverest of questions, but it gave his brain time to process what was taking place between them. One part of his brain was registering the chill in the night air. Another was taking pleasure in how warm Brag was. “I have to tell you that I’ve thought about kissing you a few times. I just haven’t decided if I’m ready.”
If his dick had had the ability, it would have screamed at him to shut the fuck up.
“Bad relationship?” Brag asked curiously, a note of sympathy in his deep voice.
“The worst. I fell hard for a selfish, egotistical, violent man, although the last wasn’t evident until we were deeply involved. The other things about his personality became apparent as time went on. There were a lot of things I was discovering I didn’t like about it, the least of which was the fact that he couldn’t seem to get along with my father.”
“Seriously?”
Peyton nodded. “It was probably because my father saw through Roger from the beginning. He never was anyone’s fool, least of all Roger’s.” He sighed, wishing he had seen the signs earlier, rather than when it became too late. “I ended it with Roger when he put me in the hospital.”
“Motherfucker!” The word was growled. The hand on his waist tightened, the tips of his fingers pressing into his flesh. “Damn, hon, I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.”
“Me, too. I wish my father hadn’t had to see me in the hospital, all bruised and broken.” It was one of his greatest regrets. The man, who had never raised a hand to him, had to see him like that. Peyton had regained consciousness to the sound of his father’s sobs. “He was relieved, though, when I went through with the charges against Roger. Not that it did any good. He had a lawyer who was worth every penny he was paid, and Roger didn’t spend more than a few hours in jail.”
“Have you seen him since?”
“A few times.” Peyton shrugged. “I was glad to be rid of him. I wish he’d had to do some jail time, but that didn’t happen. I’m just happy to be rid of him.”
Brag moved closer. The heat of their bodies increased. Peyton waited. As he did so, Brag said in a husky voice, “I’m happy, too. You can be certain of one thing, I would never hurt you.”
Their mouths met then. Peyton moaned, his lips parting as Brag teased them with the tip of his tongue. A low moan escaped him as he reached up to grasp broad shoulders. Their torsos were pressed together as Brag twisted around so he could kneel over Peyton. He shivered, a flash of memory coming back to him. They were both grown men now, but he couldn’t help being excited by Brag’s natural dominance. He couldn’t have known what this was when he was twelve. Hell, he hadn’t even questioned his sexuality until long after he had returned from that last summer visit to his great-aunt Nella. But when he had identified himself as gay, he had thought of Brag, the older boy playfully pinning him to the ground.
Peyton pulled his mouth away so he could look up at Brag. “Did you know?”
“Know what, honey?” The pet name seemed spontaneous. Peyton loved it. His dick throbbed.
“That you were gay,” he clarified. “Back then, during my last visit here. You’re a couple of years older than I am. Did you know yet that you were gay?”
“I had an idea that I was, but I wasn’t putting the moves on you. If I recollect correctly, we were having fun wrestling.” Had he read Peyton’s mind? How could he have known Peyton was thinking about the wrestling? He couldn’t have, of course. It was just weird and unexpected. Brag’s warm, firm lips kissed the tip of his nose. “That’s all it was, boys roughhousing. You were too young back then. Just a kid. Hell, you didn’t even have hair on your body yet.” A gravelly chuckle erupted from the man above him. “I bet you do now, though, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“You know I’ll find out.”
“Probably.”
“But not tonight.” Brag rolled away, returning to the place beside Peyton. He lifted Peyton’s hand and entwined their fingers. “Drink your wine, honey.”
Peyton picked up the glass and finished off what was in it. His disappointment was a tangible thing. He wanted Brag to take charge in a completely different manner, not in this way that was leaving him hanging.
“Okay, the wine’s gone. What’s next?”
“We’re going to enjoy the next couple hours. Then I’m going to go home.”
“Why?” He was definitely confused. It was difficult to mistake the heat in the kiss they had shared.
Brag moved over him again. Their mouths were close. “Because, honey, I need to know that you’re ready for me to make love to you. Once I do, that’s it. There’s no going back. You’ll be stuck with me for the long haul.”
That didn’t sound like a bad deal to Peyton, but he understood what Brag was telling him. The man didn’t want him to rush into something he wasn’t ready for. Peyton was fairly certain he was ready, but he was willing to slow down for a while if that was what it took to reassure Brag. The longer he knew Brag, the more Peyton thought about a relationship between the two of them.
“I think I’d like that,” Peyton told him as he wrapped his arms around Brag’s neck. “One more kiss won’t hurt, will it?”
“No. But then I think we should get out of here, go do something else to get our minds off hours of hot, sweaty sex. I’ve only had one beer. We’ll go to Silver. It’s the last night of the Summer Nights festival.”
They kissed. They even rubbed their aching cocks together through their clothing. When it all got to be too much, when Peyton felt as if he was about to spontaneously combust, Brag pulled himself up and away.
“Come on, handsome. Let’s go see what else you need for your house.”
Peyton didn’t argue. He was definitely in need of a cooling off period. After walking the dogs, they rode into Silver in Brag’s truck. He jokingly said they would probably need it, because Peyton was a hopeless power shopper.
Four hours later, Brag left Peyton standing in his kitchen with his purchases surrounding him on the floor and counters. His lips were swollen and bruised from one last, passionate kiss from the man he believed he was falling in love with.
Peyton couldn’t argue against Brag’s logic. For both their sakes, he needed to be certain that a permanent, lifelong relationship was what he wanted.
Of course it was, he told himself as he got ready for a night alone in his bed. Who wouldn’t want a future filled with love?
Chapter Six
Brag leaned against the corner of the barn and watched as Peyton tried to tidy the lawn and flowerbeds around the house. His city boy was swatting at insects between raking clippings and piling them into a small trailer attached to a lawn tractor. Peyton had admitted to Brag that he wasn’t much for doing work outside. Yard work at his former home had been done by a service provided by the townhouse community he lived in. He paid fees for it to be done. When he had lived at home, his father had hired someone to mow the lawn and tidy the flowerbeds.
He frowned when he saw Peyton choose a spade from the collection of garden tools he had brought out. He studied it for several seconds, as if he didn’t quite know what its purpose was. Chuckling, Brag straightened and walked toward the man.
“At least you’re holding it by the right end,” Brag teased as he neared Peyton.
“Oh, aren’t you funny,” Peyton shot back. “I’m just glad you didn’t add city boy to that.”
“Trust me. I was tempted,” he admitted, grinning. When Peyton had visited as a child, Brag and his brothers had tagged him with the nickname. It had obviously stuck in Peyton’s memory. “That’s a good tool for edgi
ng, if you don’t have anything else,” he said as he took the spade from Peyton. He quickly did about six foot long section, cutting away the edge where the lawn was trying to creep into the neat border created around the house. “If you want, I’ll help you out.” He looked down at Peyton’s footwear. “You should go put boots on. Sneakers don’t have a firm enough sole. Your foot will be killing you by the time you’re finished.”
He didn’t leave at once, pausing to add, “I wanted to tell you that I’m having an architect design an indoor arena to add onto the barn. I’d like your input.”
Brag wasn’t surprised Peyton wanted to have an arena erected. It made sense, considering how much the man enjoyed riding. He would be able to put his show horses through their paces during any kind of weather, despite the fact that they were no longer used for competition. Brag had noticed that both Zappa and Kroenraad seemed to enjoy doing the dressage exercises and spending time with Peyton. He wasn’t just another rider. He was their human friend and they realized it.
“Sure. I can do that. Go change get your boots on and come back out. I’ll get started on this.”
Peyton returned within a few minutes, along with two glasses filled with ice and a pitcher of sweet tea. As they began, Brag explained the tools and what needed to be done. They discussed the proposed arena and he made suggestions as Peyton told him his wish list. He commented on each suggestion, approving them. Peyton was a man willing to listen to someone with more experience who knew the demands the weather would put on a structure in this particular area. Brag appreciated Peyton’s respect.
With the two dogs sprawled out in the sun nearby, they worked their way around the house until the weeds were gone and there was a defined edge to the bed. There weren’t any plants. In Peyton’s great-aunt’s day, there had been a flower garden she had tended to with love and passion. It was gone now, replaced by the lawn and the covered patio. The beds were covered in river stones and large rocks had been placed in decorative groupings around the house, eliminating flammable materials close to the building. The shrubbery planted away from the house had been chosen because the local fauna didn’t particularly care to eat it. All in all, it was a relatively easy-care garden.
Peyton leaned on a garden rake and stretched his back. “That was really quite enjoyable,” he said, sounding surprised. “How often should I do that?”
Brag chuckled. “I’d check back in a month. I wouldn’t let it keep you up at night.”
“I won’t. Well, I better get this stuff put away. Thanks for the help.” He glanced at his watch as he began placing the tools in the trailer, on top of the weeds they had removed from the rock-covered bed around the house. “Wow, it’s later than I thought it was. Your parents invited me over for supper. I need to clean up.”
Looking over the man with the sweat-streaked gray T-shirt and the flushed skin, Brag thought Peyton looked good the way he was. Several scents blended together. There was aftershave, soap, sweat, and Peyton’s unique musky scent. It all teased Brag. There wasn’t an inch of the man he didn’t want to lick and explore.
Because he couldn’t do anything of the kind just yet, he refocused his thoughts.
“Mom said you were coming over to help christen the pizza oven Dirk and Troy built for Dad.” Brag’s father was something of a grilling freak. He loved to cook outdoors for his family. The pizza oven was a gift he would enjoy.
“I can’t wait. She says we can construct our own. It’s going to be fun.”
“It should be.” Peyton was about to get on the lawn tractor when Brag stopped him. “I’ll take that stuff over to put in the mulching bin and put the tools away. You go ahead and get cleaned up. If you want, you can ride over with me.”
“Sure. That’ll be good. Thanks.”
Brag watched him go. Then he climbed on the lawn tractor and drove it around to the pole building where the equipment was stored. The mulch bin was nearby and it didn’t take long before he had the trailer emptied. He put the tractor, trailer, and tools away and then headed to his house.
When Peyton met him at his truck in the driveway, Brag could feel his eyebrows going up in surprise. Peyton always dressed in a preppy style, but this time he was wearing jeans that appeared well-worn and a T-shirt. There was a hand-embossed leather belt riding low with a large oval buckle securing it. And on his feet were Western-style boots.
“Wow, looking good there. Not so much the city boy anymore.”
“That’s what I was going for.” Peyton grinned. “I have a hat, too, but I thought that was pushing it a little. I’ll wear it the next time I go riding.”
Brag wanted to tell Peyton he was the sexiest man on the planet, but he restrained himself. He felt they had a future together but knew he had to give Peyton time to come to terms with establishing a new relationship. Brag could understand that, which was why he wasn’t pushing the other man. Peyton’s former relationship had exploded in his face. Brag wanted Peyton to realize that wouldn’t happen again, because Brag was a man he could always trust in every way.
Peyton rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go eat some pizza!”
“Come on, cowboy. I know there are basil, sun-dried tomatoes, and some fancy goat cheese with your name on them. Personally, I’m going with bacon, bacon, and more bacon.”
They laughed as they climbed up into Brag’s shiny black truck. He had washed and waxed it the previous weekend. As he did so, he could sense that he was being watched from the house. Giving Peyton a show had been his plan after that. He had bent over in his old cut-off jeans, knowing the soft fabric molded to his ass, letting Peyton get an eyeful. Stretching and flexing had been involved, too, as he ran a soapy sponge over the slick metal. Brag had resisted the temptation to soak his body with the hose, like some cheesy commercial using sex to sell a product.
The members of his family were quick to notice the difference in Peyton. It wasn’t just his clothes but in his relaxed manner. He joked easily with Brag’s father and brothers, and allowed his mother to fuss over him. When it came time to eat, Brag took a chance and sat beside Peyton on the loveseat. Their arms brushed, but Peyton didn’t move away. It was a good sign as far as Brag was concerned. As they sat there, they got closer, making Brag feel as if he was being branded from shoulder to thigh.
Then there were Peyton’s moans as he chewed a bite of pizza. They were enough to stir Brag’s blood. When his dick began to harden, he tried to block out the sounds coming from the man. The problem was, his imagination had Peyton moaning as he sucked Brag’s dick down his throat. It was a completely inappropriate line of thought, considering the circumstances.
“Brag, dear, would you like some lemonade?” His mother’s sweet voice shattered the fantasy. It was as effective as being dropped in an icy bath.
“Uh, sure, Mom. Thanks.” He ignored the fact that he had a beer beside him. “I think Peyton’s ready for a refill.”
It hadn’t taken long to figure out Peyton didn’t drink much alcohol. His own intake was usually low, and he hadn’t gotten drunk since his dumbass teenage years. Puking all over the new living room rug had a way of changing his behavior before it could become habit. It was a night he was unlikely to ever forget, hence the self-imposed three beer limit.
“Craig, you’ve already mastered crafting the pizzas and that oven,” Peyton told Brag’s father as he got up and began to collect used dishes. “I don’t think I’ve tasted better.”
His father puffed up, pleasure on his face. “Thanks, son. I was kind of worried about getting the temperature right. As for the pizzas, it’s all about quality ingredients.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Peyton agreed. “Just remember, I won’t turn down another invitation for pizza night. I might even try one of Brag’s bacon, bacon, and bacon pizzas next time.”
Everyone laughed at that. Brag grinned and bumped shoulders with Peyton. “If you do, you better wear your stretchy pants,” he teased.
Peyton joined in the laughter and patted his s
tomach. “Yeah, they would have been good for tonight. Did anyone keep track of how much I ate?”
“Yeah, we did,” Brag’s brother Dirk said. “We’ll be sending a bill.”
The joking continued from there. His brothers were all fairly good-natured. The friends they had each invited over began to relax and joined in, while Brag’s parents sat together on a loveseat across from where Peyton and Brag sat. When he looked at them, he could see the intense love they had for each other. That’s what Brag wanted and he hoped to find it with Peyton. The man was everything he was searching for. If he could have checked off boxes on a list to order a partner, he couldn’t have ended up with anything better. Peyton was perfection, in his mind.
It was nearly ten o’clock when Peyton stood. Brag followed suit. “I need to get going. I have writing to do.” He glanced around. “Craig, Helena, thank you for the incredible meal and company. It was enjoyable, as always.” He looked at the others, Brag’s brothers and their friends. “Nice seeing you guys and meeting everyone else.”
Brag wasn’t surprised when his parents got up to say their goodbyes. His father shook his hand and thumped Peyton on the shoulder. His mother hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek, inviting him to return anytime, that he didn’t need to wait for an invitation.
As they drove home, Peyton talked animatedly, telling Brag about how good a time he’d had that evening and how he had hated it coming to an end. “I feel like a party-pooper.”
Laughing at the man’s description of himself, Brag reached across the center of the truck to give Peyton’s muscular forearm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. You have years to make up for it. If you promise to forgive yourself, I’ll let you in on a secret.”
“Oh, I promise. Tell me!”
“Mom and Dad are making plans for a cookout in two weeks. It’s the one where aunts, uncles, and cousins will show up. You’re invited, too.”
