A Subtle Breeze

by Bailey Bradford

  “Huh,” he grunted. Every time he’d had an encounter with, well, Mama, it had been when he was hurting, or confused—some kind of emotional duress. Zeke had no doubt that something had happened to offset this encounter, too, and he’d bet it centered on Brendon. This was twice in as many days that the man’s distress had called out for…what? Backup? No, guidance, maybe, or reassurance. So what could have upset Brendon today?

  Zeke rolled the question around in his mind as he disposed of the condom and checked the room, gathering anything he thought was Brendon’s. He’d pile it on the bed for now. There were only a few items, anyway—some clothes, a laptop, a thumb-worn novel released a couple of years ago. Zeke listened to the shower, imagining Brendon naked and soapy, rubbing a washcloth all over his body…

  He didn’t need a nudge. Zeke stripped in the bedroom, tossing his clothes on the little pile of stuff on the bed. Anticipation skittered up his spine as he opened the bathroom door, cock already tapping against his belly as he took in the sight before him. Brendon had his head tipped back, rinsing his hair, and Zeke’s mouth watered as he admired the slick, glistening corded muscles. Damn, the man was just fine. He watched a little patch of bubbles slide between Brendon’s shoulder blades, straight down his spine to the top of his crack. Zeke groaned then, he couldn’t help it. His hand slid over his shaft as Brendon turned toward him, one hand still in his hair.

  “Zeke?” Brendon’s cock was half erect, and Zeke watched as it filled and grew with each step he took toward his lover. By the time he reached the shower door, that pretty dick was swollen, extended to its full length. He tore his eyes away from it long enough to meet Brendon’s gaze as he opened the shower and stepped in, then Zeke was taking his lover’s mouth in a kiss that scorched his soul.

  Groans mingled with the sound of the shower. Zeke didn’t know which of them was groaning or if it was both of them, and he didn’t care. He lifted his head and spun Brendon away, bending him slightly at the waist and guiding his palms to the shower wall. Zeke nudged Brendon’s legs open, giving him the access he wanted.

  “Don’t move, Brendon,” he ordered, staring at the man spread out for him. The long lines of muscles from Brendon’s arms to his shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist and a perfect bubble ass—perfect didn’t even begin to describe it. Zeke felt the warmth of pre-cum on his cock head and grabbed the base, squeezing hard.

  “Zeke, I…” Brendon’s voice trembled as a shiver rippled over his body. He turned his head to look at Zeke, eyes wide with excitement and nerves. That look let Zeke know that, yeah, his man was enjoying his submissive role. Zeke shook his head, grabbed one firm cheek and squeezed hard, drawing a moan from Brendon.

  “Not a word, babe,” he ground out, kneading the flesh in his hand. Brendon gave a slight nod, his head still turned so he could watch Zeke. Zeke slid his hand over into the suds-slicked crease. His fingertips trailed over the pink hole still plump from his cock. Brendon arched his back and pushed against the fingers. Zeke jerked his hand back and grabbed the man’s hip.

  “I said don’t move, Brendon, and I meant it.” Zeke waited until Brendon met his eyes, held his stare. His lover nodded, then turned his head, dropping it forward enough to brace his forehead on the shower wall. Excitement arched between them, so thick Zeke was almost surprised he couldn’t actually see it. He stepped up and pressed his hips against Brendon’s ass, wedging his cock into the slick crack and placing his palm over the length. Leaning over, he nipped at Brendon’s neck and began thrusting, his hand pressing his erection between those taut ass cheeks. Zeke turned the water off with his other hand and grabbed Brendon’s cock, sucking harder on the man’s neck as he felt Brendon tremble beneath him. Brendon was panting now, and Zeke wanted to see his face, see what he was doing to his lover. Lifting his mouth from the purple bruise he had sucked up, Zeke straightened as he brushed the tip of his thumb over the slit of Brendon’s cock.

  “Turn your head toward me.” Zeke heard his lover’s stuttering breath, and when Brendon obeyed him and turned his head, Zeke felt his own breath, and heart, stutter in response. His man was flushed with pleasure, eyes hazy with it, and bit at his bottom lip to keep quiet. Fuck, he had never seen anything so sexy in his life. Zeke’s hips thrust harder of their own accord as he stroked Brendon’s cock faster, knowing they were both ready to come.

  “Come for me, babe, so I can shoot on your back and this pretty ass.”

  Brendon arched beneath him, a whimper slipping from his mouth as he bit down hard on that full lower lip. Heat splashed between Zeke’s fingers, the scent hitting him as his body tightened in preparation of his own orgasm, pushing hard and fast against Brendon. He watched even as he yelled, watched his cock spurt thick, pearly ropes of semen on that strong back beneath him, watched and yelled again as he drew his cock back and shot more seed at the top of Brendon’s seam.

  He pulled Brendon upright against him, rubbing the cum between them both. Some part of him wondered a little at his behavior, but Zeke had never had more than a one-night stand. He figured it was probably some territorial caveman-type instinct that Brendon roused in him. Whatever it was, it was working for them both. Brendon was melting against him like warmed butter, rubbing and making the sexiest little moaning sounds as Zeke petted him.

  “Mine.” Zeke startled himself with the proclamation, but Brendon only nodded. It was right, they were right. Zeke knew it and he was pretty sure Brendon knew it, too. What they were building might not work out, but with that one word, Zeke had let his lover know he wanted it to, wanted something more. He nipped at the hickey on Brendon’s neck. “Say it, babe. Tell me.”

  Brendon reached his arms behind him, holding Zeke as close as he could, letting his head fall back against Zeke’s shoulder with a smile. “Yeah, Zeke, yours. All yours.”

  Zeke couldn’t stop the grin that split his face any more than he could stop the ass over teakettle effect he’d felt coming on. “It works both ways, Brendon. I’m all yours, too.” He felt Brendon still in his arms, saw the questioning look on his face. “What is it, baby?”

  “Does this… Do you, you know.” Brendon shifted, turned to face him. “You want me to stay?” The uncertain tremor in his voice made Zeke’s heart do a little flop in his chest.

  “Yes, I want you to stay. I want you, here, with me. Even though it scares me, even though it’s selfish.” Zeke knew it wasn’t the most romantic speech, that it didn’t say everything he wanted to say. For now, though, it was the best he could manage. Brendon knew that it could be dangerous here—probably would be dangerous—and was willing to stay. Zeke respected the man’s choice, and it meshed so perfectly with what he wanted as well.

  For once, Zeke was going to face his fear rather than hide away from it. The idea that Brendon might be hurt terrified him, but Zeke would do his damnedest to make certain his man was safe. Right now, that meant keeping the man close, which pleased Zeke so much it rattled him. How someone he’d met such a short time ago could come to mean so much, so quickly…but it was what it was. Other people had proclaimed to have experienced love at first sight, so why should he question what was growing between the two of them?

  Brendon let loose a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay, that’s what I want, too. Just…maybe we can get your…mom…to stay away during, um, certain times?”

  Ezekiel laughed, relief and joy shooting through him. “I have a theory about that, you know. I think stuff like that only happens when there’s something like emotional duress going on. Think about it.”

  “Uh, yeah, maybe. So, what’s the solution? No getting upset while nude? Or when we’re fucking?” Brendon’s smile took the sting from his words. Still, Zeke wondered if he didn’t have a good idea there.

  “I don’t think she sees us, exactly. I think it’s more like…she feels us, emotionally, maybe, ya know?” Zeke tipped Brendon’s chin up, studying his lover’s brown eyes. “Is that what happened earlier? You thinking too much while we were fucking? If so, I was do
ing something wrong.”

  Brendon tried to avert his eyes to no avail. “It was after. Just…lots of things on my mind, okay?” He gave Zeke a grin, that pretty dimple popping up and causing all sorts of distractions for Zeke as his lover continued talking. “I’m gonna go with your assessment there, Zeke, because it takes a lot of the humiliation aspect away from two of the encounters I’ve had.”

  Zeke laughed as he turned on the shower again. “I completely understand, and really, it’s the only way I can deal with the whole issue. If I thought my mama could see what we were doing…” Just the thought made him shudder, melting the semi erection he’d had. God, he hoped to hell he was right about that, or he might never have sex again.

  Chapter Five

  Zeke stepped out onto his back porch, sipping his coffee and enjoying the cool morning air. By noon, it would be hotter than hell, and by four or five in the afternoon, hell would be a respite from the Texas heat. He planned to be finished with work well before then, if he could just keep his mind from drifting back to the image of a very nude Brendon sleeping in their bed. Zeke shook his head, trying to dispel the vision of Brendon lying spread open, cock resting softly against his thigh. His mouth watered as he fantasized about taking that soft length into his mouth, working it into a thick erection as he lapped at the head—

  “Damn it,” Zeke muttered, feeling his own dick straining against the seam of his jeans. Looked like it was going to be a long day no matter what he did. He swallowed the last bit of his coffee and was fixing to walk down the steps when he noticed the old ranch truck hauling ass from the south trail. Squinting, he could just make out two figures in the cab. Charlie must have Miguel with him. The speed they were coming in at had a sense of urgency kicking into Ezekiel’s gut—something was wrong. It was too early in the morning for the men to be heading back to the main house. He stepped off the porch, glancing back when he heard the screen door squeak open and bounce closed. Brendon stood on the porch, barefoot, in jeans and a black tank. He winked at Zeke, then brought one hand over his brow to watch the progress of the truck.

  “Something wrong?” Brendon kept his eyes on the truck, and Zeke was distracted for a moment by the display of masculine beauty. He turned back, watching as Charlie and Miguel drew nearer.

  “Must be, they wouldn’t be coming in if there wasn’t. They’d be out working the cattle and such,” he answered.

  “Huh.” Brendon moved closer to him. Apparently the man wasn’t concerned with getting his feet dirty. Zeke grinned—he’d have fun helping his lover get cleaned up later. Brendon stopped when he reached Zeke, giving him a worried glance.

  “Is it gonna be okay that I’m out here with you, or you want me to go back in?” Brendon frowned when he said it, but Zeke knew he’d go back in whether he wanted to or not if it made Zeke more comfortable. Hurting Brendon wouldn’t make him comfortable at all, though. Zeke had no intention of making his lover hide away. He placed a hand on the small of Brendon’s back, rubbing in small circles. The relief he saw on the man’s face had Zeke leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

  “That answer your question, baby?”

  Brendon’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, that dimple that fascinated Zeke burrowing deep into Brendon’s cheek.

  “Yeah, yeah it does.” He turned to watch as the truck pulled in the yard. Zeke felt a hand slide behind him, a finger knuckling through the belt loop in the center of his jeans. It felt so good to be standing here, with his man. Even the worry over what bad news Charlie and Miguel were bringing him couldn’t push aside the rightness of having Brendon beside him. He tensed a little as he watched Charlie and Miguel scramble out of the truck, anger flushing their faces. Brendon started to pull his hand away. Zeke growled and shook his head.

  “It’s not about us. Those looks they’re wearing, neither is me getting all tight, okay?” Brendon nodded but still didn’t relax. Well, Zeke couldn’t blame him at all. Charlie reached him first, Miguel hot on his heels. Zeke could see the curiosity battling with anger on his ranch hands’ faces. Charlie even had his lips tilted up on one side in a smile. Well, good, then. He nodded to Brendon.

  “Charlie, Miguel, this is Brendon.” He didn’t offer an explanation. Both of his hands knew full well that Zeke was introducing his lover to them. Charlie and Miguel smiled, taking turns shaking Brendon’s hand and welcoming him to the ranch.

  “Glad you’re here, Brendon,” Charlie told him. “Ah, Zeke, there’s some shit happening in the south pasture. Got about sixty head down, looks real bad, too.”

  “Down, how? And how bad is ‘real bad’? You call Doc Michaels yet?” Zeke tried to push back the anger and worry that threatened to break free. There was no reason for his cattle to be sick. Vaccinations were current on all head, and he had helped clear away every last bit of the toxic plant life in the pastures and along the trails—and inspected the areas where Charlie and Miguel had handled that task without him. No cattleman wanted to risk losing stock because he was careless about pigweed or any of the other number of deadly plants in the prairie region of Texas. The water tanks were checked regularly as well, which meant…

  “Down like they ate something they shouldn’t have, Zeke, and I know damn well we cleared the pasture. We got dead and dying cattle all over, and yeah, we called Doc before we headed back here, should be here any time now,” Charlie answered. As if on cue, the sound of an engine roaring down the long dirt drive reached them. Zeke looked up, verifying it was Doc Michaels coming to the ranch. He looked back at Charlie and Miguel.

  “You move the rest of the stock?” He knew they had—these men were good hands—but he had to ask. Miguel nodded.

  “Yes, sir. We moved them out right away. We called the house but, ah…” Miguel looked down at his boots.

  “Fuck,” Zeke bit out. They had turned the ringer down on the phone and the volume down on the answering machine last night. Eva had called once, and after the first hateful word left her mouth, Brendon had jerked the phone away from Zeke and slammed it down. When it rang again immediately, they’d decided to cut off her fun by silencing the phone. Which was the same reason Zeke’d turned off his cell phone. Damn it, he knew better than to be out of reach!

  “Shit, Zeke, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested—” Brendon looked so upset Zeke couldn’t stop himself from giving the man a one-armed hug.

  “It’s not your fault, babe, not at all,” he told Brendon. Facing Charlie and Miguel, he explained to them what had happened, from the drive through town to the calls from Eva—omitting, of course, what had transpired between them in Gloria’s house. Charlie spat on the ground in disgust as Doc Michaels finally pulled up.

  “Zeke, I know that woman is your sister and all, but she is just a…”

  Miguel smacked Charlie on the back hard enough to make the man stumble slightly.

  “Uh, she is just a mean, vindictive person,” Charlie finished and glared at Miguel, who shrugged in return.

  “Charlie.” Zeke waited until the man looked at him. “I know what Eva is, believe me, she made sure I had no illusions about her. But this isn’t about her—” he hoped—“so tell me what the hell happened.”

  Doc Michaels walked over to the group. He glanced at Zeke and Brendon, greeting them as though seeing the men together was an everyday occurrence. Zeke didn’t quite know what to make of it. He’d expected some sort of censure.

  “So what is going on? Miguel said you got about sixty head, at least, that he is pretty sure you’re going to lose?” Doc Michaels glanced back at Miguel for confirmation then turned back to Zeke.

  “Seems the cattle got into something in the south pasture. I haven’t made it out there yet, but Charlie and Miguel said it’s bad. Pasture was cleared, and the tank… Miguel, did you check the tank yet?” Zeke knew Miguel had been busy, but there was always a chance.

  “Yes, sir. Everything seemed fine, but I don’t know if that means anything, Doc?”

  Doc Michaels shook his head.
“Have to send a sample off for testing. Let’s get going.” He took a step, then turned back to Zeke and Brendon, thrusting out a hand as he smiled. “I’m Doc Michaels, by the way, since someone didn’t bother with introductions,” he teased, laughing when Zeke felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. Damn it, he’d been thinking about cattle and Eva and everything but manners.

  Brendon grinned as he took the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doc Michaels. I’m Brendon Shanahan, and I’m sure Zeke just has too much on his plate to think about introductions right now.”

  Zeke grunted, feeling all kinds of a fool. The cattle were important, sure, but not more important than the man at his side.

  “I’m just teasing you, Zeke, you have every right to be rattled.” Doc Michaels patted Zeke’s shoulder. Zeke wondered how he had never noticed the kindness in Doc’s eyes before. It shamed him to realize he’d only been seeing what he expected to. How many other people had he judged in such a way? And didn’t that make him as bad as Eva? It was something he would have to think about once this was taken care of.

  Brendon squeezed his hand, pulling Zeke out of his self-recriminations. “If it’s okay, I’d like to throw on my boots and come along. Maybe I can help somehow.”

  Zeke wasn’t sure he wanted Brendon to see a bunch of sick and dying animals, but those determined brown eyes met his, and any thought at arguing died in Zeke’s throat.

  “All right, but it’s going to be bad, Brendon.” Worse than bad, he was sure.

  Brendon nodded, squeezing his hand once more before heading into the house. Zeke turned back to the three men waiting in the yard, watching him with various expressions of amusement. He felt the tips of his ears burn.