Authors: Carter Ashby
They’d met at the bar. Cody and his brothers had no problem hanging out with the Turner’s ranch hands so long as Gideon didn’t find out. Cody had been shooting pool with a worker named Reno when Jordan had walked in. The connection had been instant. They’d had beer together for weeks before Cody got up the nerve to invite him for a ride. They’d gone out in his truck and made out for hours.
It had been two months since they’d first met. This was their third hookup in the past week.
He approached Jordan, who stood still, likely overwhelmed with some combination of fear, anticipation, and lust. Their first time together, Jordan claimed was his first time ever, and Cody believed him simply because of how the kid had clung to him afterwards, trembling and weeping. That should have been fair warning. Cody didn’t need to get involved with someone sensitive. Someone with feelings. He could barely afford the risk of his usual out-of-town hookups. Jordan was a little too real. A little too close to home.
Therein lay the problem. The kid had been so good…felt so good…Cody couldn’t resist a second visit. And now a third. If Jordan lived a hundred miles away it would be so much easier to deny himself.
He reached for the boy, cupping the back of his head and kissing his jaw.
Jordan clung to Cody’s shirt. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispered.
Cody didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Instead, he pushed Jordan’s shirt up and off. He removed his own, then held still as Jordan’s hands slid up and down his abdomen and chest. Cody watched the young, callused hands touching him. He wondered, for a moment, what it might be like to link fingers with Jordan, just as he had with so many girlfriends in the past. How different to have his hand intertwined with that of another man. A young, beautiful, sweet-hearted man.
“Is everything okay?” Jordan asked, the concern in his voice and his eyes so sincere it made Cody’s heart ache.
He kissed Jordan hard and furiously on the mouth. They fumbled at each other’s jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping and groping and moaning. Cody filled his hands with Jordan’s length and tugged, making the younger man cry out. Cody bit his lip, his jaw, his chest. He sucked hard, leaving a mark there purposefully, because every chance might be their last, and he wanted the boy to remember him.
Jordan cried out. “You’re different,” he gasped. “Different than last time.”
Last time had been slow. Exploratory. Sensuous. Yes, this was definitely different.
Cody spun Jordan around and pressed his palms against the wall. “Stay,” he said.
Jordan’s breathing was rough and ragged. Cody found his jeans and searched them for the condom he’d brought. He ripped open the packet, rolled on the condom, and stroked himself a few times as he studied Jordan. He found his lube in the other pocket, squeezed some into his hand, and began massaging Jordan, who pushed back on his fingers, quite a bit more boldly than last week.
When Cody could stand it no longer, he slid his way in, using every ounce of restraint he had left to gently stretch his young lover.
“Oh, God!” Jordan moaned.
At last, Cody lost to himself to his own passion, pounding and thrusting, fighting back the need to come. When Jordan’s sobs became heartfelt, Cody took pity and wrapped his arms around him. Jordan laid his head back on Cody’s shoulder. Cody took Jordan’s erection and stroked in time to his own thrusts.
With a cry, Jordan painted the wall in front of them with his semen. A moment later, blinding pleasure took Cody out of himself. He clung to the high, wishing like nothing else he could stay there instead of crashing down into the muck of post-coital bliss tainted by self-loathing, loneliness, and the knowledge that he’d likely never attain a lasting happiness.
For a moment, there was only breathing. His and Jordan’s. Cody held his lover for a long moment. He kissed him beneath his ear and ran his hands up and down his sweat-slick chest and abs.
“Cody, I think…I think I’m in love with you,” Jordan whispered.
Cody’s hands froze for just an instant. Love? What could love possibly mean to two men in their situation? Was he supposed to go to his father and say, “Sorry, Gideon, I’m gay, but since it’s love, maybe you can forgive me?” It would have been laughable if it hadn’t been so devastating.
He finished the kiss he’d begun before whispering into Jordan’s ear, “If you ever wanna fuck again, you’ll not say that to me. Not ever. Got it?”
Jordan tensed. His breath hitched. “Got it,” he said in a shaky voice.
Cody pulled out and backed away. He pulled up his pants and searched for a way to dispose of the condom. In the end, he had no choice but to tie it off and pocket it.
“Do you maybe wanna go out for a drink or something?” Jordan asked.
Cody turned and gaped at Jordan who was holding his jeans in front of his crotch, twisting them nervously. “We drink together at the bar.”
“Yeah, but, I mean, just the two of us. Like a date.”
“A date? You’re joking, right?”
“Well, we can’t just keep meeting for booty calls, right?” Jordan’s nervous laugh was a thin mask for the vulnerability in his eyes.
How could the guy be this naive? “You want to go on a date…like a couple?”
Jordan gulped. “Yeah. I like you. I thought…maybe…”
Cody couldn’t look at him anymore. He turned away. “Look, kid, this is all there is, okay? You wanna meet and fuck, I’m your man. But that’s all I’ve got for you. Okay?”
Jordan’s voice was tense. “Sure. I get it.”
“Do you?” Cody asked. He turned and closed the distance between himself and Jordan. “Because I can’t have this getting around to anyone I know. And if it does, I’ll hurt you, Jordan, do you understand me?”
Jordan nodded, anger and pain in his expression. Cody just added it to the list of reasons to hate himself. The sick thing was, he
would
hurt Jordan. He’d do anything to keep his family from finding out his secret. Nothing was worth the pain of the rejection he would surely face from his father. And Jake. That would be the worst, really. Disappointing Jake.
Cody let go and backed up a step, keeping his eyes on Jordan. “I mean it. If one person makes a suggestive comment or joke to me, I’m coming straight after you.”
Jordan’s jaw tightened. “You’ve made your point,” he said through his teeth.
Cody nodded and was about to zip up his pants when someone shrieked. It was too high-pitched to be Jordan, but Cody looked at him anyway. Jordan standing there completely naked and Cody with his pants undone, both turned wide, stunned eyes to the source of the sound.
Ivy’s life was spent managing people and numbers. That alone was stressful enough for an introvert, but add to it the public humiliation Myra Tidwell was inflicting upon her and it was enough to paralyze her emotionally.
She gathered her book, a bottle of wine, and a flashlight, and saddled up her horse, Mitzy. She rode Mitzy to one of her favorite reading sanctuaries. Most often she went to the big flat rock down by the creek, laid out a blanket, and relaxed to the sound of water trickling over rocks. But a certain Deathridge brother had ruined that spot for her. Not necessarily in a bad way. It was just that now she couldn’t go there without thinking of him. She’d sit there staring at the same page in her book for an hour until she realized what she’d been doing. She’d simultaneously wish he would show up and pray he wouldn’t.
And thinking of him was a waste of time. She couldn’t have him. Didn’t want him if she could. She needed to get her head in the here and now.
So she chose the old red barn she used to use as a hideout when she was a little girl. Funny, she recalled Boone being among the kids who used to meet her there to play and make trouble. That was a long time ago.
By the time she arrived at the barn, the sun had sunk behind the horizon. She took her book, wine, and flashlight and went into the darkening barn. Her first reaction at the man-sized motion to her left was to scream in fright. But as her eyes adjusted, she recognized the two men. Jordan and…Cody?
She dropped everything, slapped her hands over her eyes, and said, “Oh, God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see anything. Just…just pretend I wasn’t here.” She turned and fled, leaving behind yet another reading sanctuary she’d likely never be able to use again. Since she still had her eyes squeezed shut, she fumbled at Mitzy’s reins and misplaced her foot three times before finding the stirrup.
No sooner had she scrambled into the saddle then a strong pair of hands pulled her down. She kicked and thrashed, albeit half-heartedly. “I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t wanna know. I won’t say anything.”
“Shh, settle down. Let’s just talk,” Cody said.
She opened her eyes. He had on his shirt, hanging open. “It’s none of my business,” she said softly.
He nodded and then squinted out at the horizon, his blue eyes sparkling in the light. He looked like a goddamn cologne model. Where did these brothers get off being so sexy?
He took Mitzy’s reins in one hand. His free hand he placed low on Ivy’s back, walking her back toward her house. “Listen, it’s your business now, like it or not.”
“It’s not. It’s really, really not.” She had to pry her eyes from him. Her brain was making adjustments to her reality. This new reality in which Cody Deathridge was gay. A gay cowboy. Banging her new ranch hand. In her second-favorite reading spot.
“The thing is, you’re a good Christian girl, Ivy, and maybe you think it’s your duty to tell someone like Pastor Allen or something…try and save my soul.”
“Oh, no. Not at all. I could care less about your soul. Do with it what you please. Just don’t make me the guardian of another secret.”
He grabbed her arm, spinning her to a halt. They were only a few hundred feet from the barn. No sign of Jordan. Perhaps he’d snuck out and gone off toward the bunkhouse. “
Another
secret?” Cody asked, leaning on ‘another.’
Ivy knew when to keep quiet. She closed her mouth and made a vain promise to God never to open it again.
Cody studied her, the crease between his brows deepening. “Ivy, I need this kept quiet. My dad, he’d…”
The choke, the fear and vulnerability, went straight to her heart. “Listen,” she said, taking control of the moment, “This is nobody’s business but yours and Jordan’s. I don’t care except to wish you both the best, that’s all.”
He glanced around for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “You don’t think I’m going to hell?”
Of all the things for him to worry about. Ivy grinned and leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I quit believing in hell back when I found out Santa Claus wasn’t real.”
Cody nodded and swallowed. He stepped back. “Yeah. Okay. Then…thanks. And…I’m sorry for…trespassing or whatever.”
“It’s okay. Use the barn anytime you want. After seeing that, I don’t think I’ll be going back there. Ever.” She mounted Mitzy, vaguely aware that she was leaving behind her book and wine in the barn. More than vaguely aware that she held yet another Deathridge secret. The business woman in her thought she ought to be spending her brain power figuring out ways to parlay these secrets into a deal on the Deathridge ranch. But Ivy could no more give in to that instinct than she could sprout wings and fly. Besides, her father wouldn’t approve. He was a good man. An honest man.
No, she would simply have to keep these secrets to herself.
She rode home and ran a hot bubble bath since her reading session had ended in disaster. She sprinkled lavender oil in the water and lit a scented candle. Then she turned off the lights, dropped her clothes, and sank into the steaming hot water. Nothing was more relaxing than watching candlelight flicker through the shimmering bubbles surrounding her.
She closed her eyes and wondered. Wondered what he’d feel like behind her in the tub, his strong, wet limbs embracing her. Wondered what he’d look like bathing alone, his stetson shading his face, only his cocky smirk showing. Wondered what he would do with her if he had the whole night. Would he lift her from the bath and dry her before carrying her to bed? Would he take her right there in the water, no care whatsoever to how much of it splashed onto the floor? Would he just hold her as she did what she was doing right now, easing the ache between her legs with her hand?
The steam swirled around her, her body temperature rising to match the water as she fantasized about him and massaged herself. When she was finished, she sank back into the water, dunking completely under.
After her bath, she dried, put on panties and a t-shirt, and climbed into bed. Her phone pinged with a text message from her father.
“Myra updated her blog. So sorry you’re being put through this,” the message said.
Ivy loaded the blog on her phone.
And the winner is…
If any of you didn’t see this coming it was your own fault. The frontrunner in the polls, Dallas Deathridge, was spotted inside the Turner Cattle Company office where Ivy was working. Alone.
Could this be the end of the mystery? Or is Dallas looking to make a different kind of business deal? We shall just have to wait and watch as Ivy’s little drama unfolds.
Ivy should have been upset. But the pleasing after effects of her bath had taken hold. Her body felt heavy and relaxed. After all, did it really matter? The damage was done. If people thought it was Dallas, maybe they’d finally get bored, and Myra could move on to fresher stories.
She turned off her phone and fell back on her bed. Her mind shut down, shortly followed by her body, after which she dreamt about the only Deathridge brother she’d actually been with.
Jake
Jake had deceived his dad exactly twice in his life.
The first time was when he was eight. He took his dad’s shotgun outside in the woods, desperately wanting to fire it and knowing no one would let him. He set up a target back behind a hill and downwind of the house, hoping the sound wouldn’t travel far.