by T. A. Chase
The suction Carl created with his mouth wrapped around Layne’s shaft drove him crazy. He knocked the hat off Carl’s head when he buried his fingers in the curls at the nape of Carl’s neck. Holding him still, Layne began to thrust his length in and out.
Carl braced his hands on Layne’s thighs, but seemed willing to let Layne control the action.
“Christ! Your mouth is amazing.” Layne shuddered when Carl fondled his balls. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
There was a slight hitch in Carl’s breathing, which gave Layne the idea that Carl wasn’t opposed to that happening. All his thoughts drained away from his brain and Layne allowed pleasure to overwhelm him. While stroking in and out, Layne enjoyed every sensation of tongue and a little scrape of teeth over his hard flesh.
After Carl rubbed his finger over Layne’s taint, pressure built until there wasn’t anything left as his climax exploded through him. He’d managed to tap Carl’s cheek in warning right before he came, but Carl didn’t pull away.
Layne jerked and twitched until it felt like every drop had been sucked out of him. He tugged on Carl’s hair when his cock grew sensitive to the licking and gentle sucking. Carl eased away then stood, encircling Layne’s waist and allowing him to lean on him. Layne got his breathing and heart rate slowed down before he tried standing on his own.
“Wow. I never thought I’d be getting a blow job in the parking lot,” he joked while tucking his limp shaft back into his jeans.
Carl wiped his hand across his mouth. “Have to admit it didn’t cross my mind until you kissed me. I’m getting too old for this and my knees don’t really like asphalt.”
Once his clothes were straightened, Layne grabbed his bag from the trailer then glanced at Carl. “Then let’s get to the hotel. I really want you to fuck me. Do you think you can wait that long?” He pressed the palm of his hand against the hard length hidden behind Carl’s pants.
“Yeah, I can as long as I know I’ll be having your ass when we get to my room.” Carl wiggled his eyebrows in a leer and Layne laughed.
“Oh, it’s a guarantee you’ll be getting some.” He gave Carl a quick peck before strolling away toward the street.
Once they got to the Westin, Carl led the way to the elevator and up to his room. Layne stayed close, letting his free hand brush over Carl’s ass from time to time as they walked. After stepping into the room, he grunted when Carl grabbed him then dragged him over to the bed.
His bag dropped to the floor because Layne needed to put both his hands on Carl. There weren’t any awkward moments while they stripped. He yanked back the comforter and sheet from the bed while Carl went to the bathroom. After rejoining him, Carl held up a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.
“Get on the bed,” Carl ordered.
Shivering, Layne crawled into the middle of the mattress then lay on his back, catching his legs behind his knees before pulling them to his chest. Carl reached out to smooth his hand over the curve of Layne’s hip. Layne licked his lips and Carl growled as he swooped in to crush their mouths together.
He became lost in the taste and texture of Carl’s mouth. Their tongues dueled for supremacy. Layne jumped when Carl’s slick fingers teased his hole. He broke off the kiss to plead, “Please, Carl. Don’t take too long.”
“I don’t think I can,” Carl said, rubbing more lube over Layne before slowly pressing in.
“Ugh!” Layne bit on his bottom lip while Carl filled him with more than one finger.
Carl gripped Layne’s thigh as he worked to open him up. Layne rocked, impaling himself on Carl’s digits. He was stretched and slicked to the point where he was sure he’d come again. He didn’t want to do that without Carl fucking him first.
Layne peeled his hand away from his knee then fumbled around to hit Carl on his arm. “I need more,” he begged. “I want you inside me before I come again.”
“All right, honey. Just a second.”
After watching Carl kneel down by his ass, Layne drew in a deep breath as he saw Carl roll a condom over his thick cock. A nice glob of lube coated his length then Carl positioned the head of his erection at Layne’s opening. As impatient as Layne was to be fucked by his lover, he couldn’t get Carl to move fast.
“Come on. Fuck me already,” Layne demanded.
Carl chuckled, but did as Layne said. He pushed in until he’d buried his length as deep as he could. Layne arched his back, shouting at the burn and encircling Carl’s hips with his legs. He braced his hands against the headboard behind him then rocked back, meeting every one of Carl’s thrusts. Electricity raced through him when Carl nailed his gland.
Their movements started out smooth and rhythmic, but, as the seconds passed, Carl’s strokes grew rougher and faster. Soon Layne’s climax washed over him, not as strong as the first one, but it still shocked him. Hot sticky cum painted his stomach while Carl rode him through the aftershocks.
Just as Layne’s pleasure was easing off, Carl slammed into him once more then froze, his head thrown back and a low groan issuing from his chest. Carl rolled his hips and filled the condom. In a brief moment of craziness, Layne wished they’d done it bareback and he’d be flooded with Carl’s cum. There had been times when he was young and sowing his wild oats that he hadn’t used a rubber.
It had been a long time since then and since he’d matured he’d never done it without one. Yet here he was, thinking those things about a man he’d just met. He gave a mental shake of his head. It was just the exhaustion and the afterglow of his climax making him think those crazy thoughts.
Carl rolled to the side as he collapsed and Layne winced when he slid out. He rested his hand on Carl’s arm, but didn’t try to move. Eventually Carl sighed before crawling out of bed. As he stumbled to the bathroom, he shot a glance at Layne.
“Want to join me in the shower?”
He wasn’t about to say no. Layne was sure seeing Carl wet and naked in the shower would be a pleasure. He wouldn’t be able to get it up again for several hours, but it never hurt to look and touch. The hotel shower stall wasn’t really meant for two full-sized men, yet they made it work.
When they were back in bed, Layne trailed his fingers along Carl’s side, stopping to trace a scar here or there. “Riding broncs looks like it’s a rough sport.”
Laughing, Carl covered Layne’s hand. “For me, it was. I can be reckless at times. To be honest, being careless at the rodeo makes it easy to get injured.”
“Dealing with thousand pound animals—cattle or horses—can do damage when you’re not paying attention, no matter what your job is.” Layne held up his hand where a scar bisected the pad of his thumb. “Almost lost it when I lassoed a steer then got the rope wrapped around it. I was working with a young mare, paying more attention to her than what I was doing.”
After pushing up to lean against the pillow, Carl pointed at his knee, where there was a mess of scarring. “I’d just settled on top of this huge bronc at an event in Montana and was getting my legs in the right position. Then the bastard slammed his side against the gate, pinning my knee between him and it. I could hear the bones pop and feel the ligaments tear.”
Layne winced. “I can’t even imagine how painful that must have been.”
“Lost consciousness. One of my buddies had to grab a hold of me while the gate men jerked it open to let the horse out. I don’t remember any of it.” Carl rubbed his thigh right above the scars. “It took a few months of PT to get to the point where I could walk without crutches. Now it still hurts and I have exercises to do to keep it mobile. Docs say I’ll always walk with a limp.”
“Rough.” Layne placed his hand on Carl’s knee.
“Hmmm… Warm,” Carl muttered.
Layne smiled then yawned. “Sorry. I was exhausted before we even messed around and I have to get up early in the morning.”
Carl slid back down then rolled over on his side, resting his arm on Layne’s stomach. Layne folded one of his arms behind his head as he stared up a
t the ceiling. The steady rhythm of Carl’s breathing eased him until finally he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
* * * *
The ringing of his cell phone woke him some time later. When he moved to get out of bed, Carl tightened his arm and mumbled in protest. Layne smoothed his hand over Carl’s hair.
“I have to get the phone, babe,” he said softly while slipping out from under the blankets. Carl curled around his pillow, pulling it close and burying his face in it.
The ringing stopped before Layne got to it, but he knew who’d called. After swiping his finger across the screen, he brought up Whit’s number then tapped it. He flopped into the chair next to the window, staring out over the lights of the city.
“Hello.” Whit answered.
“Hey, baby girl,” Layne said.
She snorted. “You’re so smooth, but that shit doesn’t work with me.”
Layne chuckled softly. “I’m not that smooth, honey. How are you feeling?”
“Like a beached whale and I’m only five months along.” She grunted. “Did you manage to find a place to stay? When I checked, all the close hotels were full.”
“Yeah, I found a room. How’s Quinn doing?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to mention Carl yet.
Whit sighed. “He’s all right. I had Spencer take him to the doc’s. Got some meds and has to take a couple days off.”
Layne pursed his lips. “At least he’s medicated. See about moving jobs around for the guys. Quinn’s the only one I trust with the new horses and there are two arriving in a couple days. If he’s not better by then, I can drive home to get them settled.”
“Don’t worry about it. If Quinn can’t do it, one of the other guys will get the horses in their stalls. They usually need some time to decompress before we start working with them anyway.” Whit cleared her throat. “What are you doing for help at the event?”
He glanced over and saw Carl lying there, watching him. The blankets covered him from the hips down. The stark white material showed off Carl’s tan skin and scars. There was a light covering of hair over Carl’s chest and a thin line leading down under the sheets.
“Yeah. I met someone who’s going to help me with the horses.” He flashed Carl a smile.
Carl winked back, but didn’t say anything. Layne scrubbed his hand over his hair as he returned his gaze to the lights outside.
“Great.” He heard rustling as though she were shifting something. “Oh, by the way, Nicco is quitting. He wants to move back to Arizona to be closer to his mother.”
“Hmm… Okay. When does he want to leave?” Great. Another problem I need to fix.
Whit hummed then said, “In two weeks. That gives us plenty of time to hire someone.”
Layne looked at Carl. “I might have someone. Don’t post the want ad yet.”
“Okay. Just let me know and I’ll do it.” She yawned. “Ugh! I’m beat. Give me a call sometime tomorrow, huh? I’m sure Spencer will want to talk to you at some point as well.”
“Love you, honey. Tell Spence to treat you well. Sweet dreams.”
He hung up then tossed his phone on the desk next to him. Pushing to his feet, he stretched then strolled over to the bed. Carl held out his hand and he took it before crawling under the covers with him.
“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job beyond this, would you?”
Carl trailed his fingers along Layne’s jaw. “Let’s see how we work together. Then I’ll let you know.”
That was fine with Layne. He cupped the back of Carl’s head, bringing their lips together. Everything else could be pushed aside for a little while.
Chapter Four
Carl tossed the brush into the chest with Tigger’s name on it. He picked up the saddle blanket and carried it back to where Tigger stood, shifting on his feet nervously. The gelding eyed him as though he wasn’t entirely sure about Carl’s motives.
“Now stay still. I’m just putting this on you. It’s not going to hurt you.” He settled it on Tigger’s neck then slid it back into place. “See, silly. I told you.”
The bay’s skin twitched, but he stayed still. Carl kept murmuring while he tightened the girth. He got Tigger bridled then led him out of the stall. Boom watched them, munching on some hay.
“You might want to check the girth again.”
Pausing, he glanced over to where a tall dark-haired man stood, arms crossed over his chest and a slight smile on his face. Carl studied him for a minute.
“Why do you say that?” He looked back at Tigger, staring at the gelding and trying to figure out what was wrong.
“I had a horse who would suck in air and blow up her stomach. I’d think the girth was tight then when I mounted, the saddle would slip. Ended up on my butt a few times before I figured out what she was doing.” The man stepped closer. “I’m Leslie Hardin. Jackson told me I should come check out Layne’s horses.”
Carl held out his free hand. “Carl Stewartson. Nice to meet you. You and Layne work together before?”
After they shook, Carl fixed the saddle then motioned Les to follow him. Les fell in beside him before resting his hand on Tigger’s shoulder.
“He’s a beauty,” Les commented. “I bet he moves like silk.”
“I’ve only seen a little bit of what he can do. Layne worked him this morning, but he’s doing an exhibition in a few.” Carl brought Tigger to a stop by the entrance gate into the arena. He saw Layne standing in the middle of the ring, holding Snack’s reins. The other gelding rested his nose against Layne’s back while he talked.
Tigger nickered and, though Snack’s ears flickered toward him, he didn’t move. Layne glanced over then gestured at him.
“I’m having my friend bring in my next Thoroughbred. This is Kitten Jones, or as we like to call him around the stables, Tigger. When you see him move, you’ll understand why.” After walking over, Layne winked at Carl then flashed a bright smile at Les. “Hardin, are you going to stick around and watch? Afterward, I can take Tigger over some rails for you.”
Les slapped Layne on the shoulder. “I think I will. Jackson was right. Tigger looks like a good candidate for a couple of my clients.”
Layne chuckled. “I hope your clients want an energetic ride.”
“The ones I’m thinking of will love him as long as he has the scope.” Les waved his hand toward the crowd. “You have people waiting.”
Carl followed Les to the stands and took a seat. He hadn’t seen Layne do one of his demonstrations. He’d been running between the arena and the stalls during the other ones. But this was Layne’s last one for the day. Another man joined them and Carl saw Les bump their shoulders together. Something about the way they looked at each other made Carl think they were more than friends.
“This is my husband, Randy Hardin. Randy, this is Carl Stewartson, Layne Daly’s groom,” Les introduced them.
“Nice to meet you.” Randy reached across Les to shake Carl’s hand. “We’re going to be buying another horse, huh?”
“You know me so well,” Les joked.
Shaking his head, Carl focused on Layne and Tigger. The chestnut stood still in the middle of the arena. It was the quietest Carl had ever seen the gelding. Tigger’s gaze was pinned on Layne as the man held the reins and chatted with the crowd. A small herd of steers were hazed into the ring, which caught Tigger’s attention. As soon as he saw them, Tigger tensed but he didn’t move.
“I didn’t think the gelding would have it in him to stand that still for so long,” Les murmured.
“Layne said he’s high strung unless he’s working. Once he gets in the saddle and starts Tigger cutting or jumping, the horse doesn’t seem to have the need to act up. Apparently he gets bored easily, so whoever gets him needs to know that.” Carl rubbed his hands on his jeans, nervous for some strange reason. It wasn’t his horse he was trying to sell.
Les put his hand on Carl’s arm. “Don’t be nervous. I’m an easy target. Both Jackson and Layne know that. That’s why my fr
iend sent me here. I’m already mostly sold on Tigger just from hearing Jackson.”
Carl shrugged. “I’m not sure why I’m worried. It’s not like I have any kind of stake in this.”
Layne finished talking then mounted Tigger. The cattle were bunched at the other end of the arena, but they started moving when the pair approached them. Tigger flowed through the steers and Carl couldn’t tell which one Layne had chosen.
Tigger settled in once the steer was separated from the herd, and stayed almost nose to nose with the steer. Layne dropped his hands and let the reins hang loose as Tigger hopped in one direction then the other. The steer did its best to return to his fellow cattle, but the gelding kept him from the herd.
The crowd gasped with each dramatic dash and dip. Carl admitted he was impressed by Tigger’s intense focus. After having spent time with the thoroughbred over the last day, he never would’ve thought the gelding could pay attention to anything for that long a time. Yet Layne had been right. When Tigger got into the arena and started working the cattle, a nuclear bomb could go off without him noticing. It was all about keeping the steer from rejoining his herd.
“They’re amazing,” a lady sitting next to them whispered.
“Yes, they are,” Carl agreed.
After a few more minutes, Layne lifted the reins and Tigger turned away as though the steer no longer existed. Layne rode Tigger back to the middle of the ring amid the applause.
“In all my exhibitions today, I’ve ridden Thoroughbreds. Boom, Snack and Tigger were bought straight off the track and I retrained them. There are people who believe that Thoroughbreds are too high strung to do anything other than race.” Layne patted Tigger’s neck. “I hope I’ve proven that isn’t true. While they can be hot, they are talented animals that have the capacity to do anything we ask of them.”
He swung off Tigger then walked the gelding around in a circle while he continued to talk. “If you’re looking for a new mount, please consider the possibility of adopting a Thoroughbred. Not only for western events, but for English disciplines as well. If you’re interested in that sort of thing, I’ll be taking Tigger here over some rails in a few minutes. Thank you all for coming.”
