Authors: Kate Pavelle
“You made the bed,” Attila said as Kai emerged from the bathroom.
“Is it okay?”
“Yes, thank you. But you don’t have to do that, Kai….”
“I know.” Kai grinned, catching Attila’s flummoxed expression in the mirror. “You’re not used to have people do stuff for you, are you?”
The guilty expression on the other man’s face was all the answer he needed. He grasped Attila’s arms from behind and leaned in to kiss his elegant neck. Attila’s silky skin under his lips reminded him of Attila’s smooth, hard shaft in his mouth from the night before, and the ardent way Attila had used his incredible mouth around his. His morning wood suitably reawakened, he pressed his body against the towel Attila had wrapped around his waist.
“The horses, Kai,” Attila said on an exhale. His tone was affected, yet firm. “We have duties to fulfill.”
“Yes, boss.” Kai tasted Attila’s neck one last time. “I gave you a bit of a hickey last night.”
“Perhaps you should take your shower cold,” Attila said, shaking the sensuous hands off his arms. “Seriously, Kai.”
“Yes, boss.” Kai laughed and turned the cold water on full blast. This morning, he would need it.
T
HE
pockets of Kai’s jeans bulged with cut-up apples. He leaned his back against the fence, Cayenne’s lead rope in his hand.
“Round!” he called, encouraging the horse to run around him in a half circle. Cayenne snorted and pulled at the halter as he traversed from Kai’s left side to his right and turned to face him again.
“Round!” Kai called again, tugging the halter with a gentle hand, and Cayenne channeled his excess energy into a burst of speed, going back and forth, left and right. He already wore a saddle pad on his back and made no effort to dislodge it.
“All right, Cayenne, let’s go one step further, shall we?” Kai reached through the fence behind him and retrieved a light riding pad that looked much like a saddle pad, but had a girth strap attached. He approached the playful stallion, passing his hip right under the horse’s nose. As expected, Cayenne picked up on the scent of the apples and lowered his head. Making use of the distraction, Kai placed the pad on his back before he produced another apple slice.
“Here ya go, Cayenne, my sweetheart. There….” He scratched his mane, calm and reassuring. The horse whuffed and poked his pants pocket with his nose.
“Alright, alright, since you insist.” Kai placed an apple slice on the top rail of the white fence. As soon as Cayenne reached his curious nose toward it, Kai stretched his arm under his belly and caught the end of girth strap. He managed to fasten one of the two buckles before Cayenne neighed, dancing off to the side.
“There is nothing to worry about,” Kai droned on, his voice firm, yet soothing. He leaned his back against the fence again, letting Cayenne fret, trotting in a hypnotic half circle around him.
There and back, there and back….
Only once Cayenne settled down did Kai call him by name. The horse gave him a baleful look.
“Are you gonna be a pain in the butt about this? ’Cause I cut up three whole apples just for you.”
“He’s doing rather well, actually.”
Kai whirled at the sound of Attila’s voice by his shoulder. “Yeah? You snuck up on me.”
“Just being unobtrusive,” Attila hummed. He eyed the red horse with obvious satisfaction. “You’re doing great. So far he hasn’t bitten or kicked you, and you managed to strap a pad onto his back.”
Kai preened under the unexpected praise. “Well… he does love those apples.”
“He likes you. I tried to bribe him earlier on, with no luck whatsoever.”
“When do you think I can ride him again?” Kai asked, his voice wistful.
Attila leaned into the fence. “Maybe we could just lunge him, have him run in circles with you on his back. I’m concerned it’s too early, though. He could dump you again.”
“He will dump me regardless, over and over. He will test me, Attila. You said that yourself. And look, he’s calming down.” They both watched the horse approach. Kai sat against the middle rail of the fence. Attila leaned closer, resting his chin upon Kai’s shoulder. Kai was about to reach out to Cayenne when he felt the other man’s hand on his bicep.
“Stay. Let’s see what he does,” he whispered.
Cayenne snorted, looking at the two of them.
“Kiss me,” Kai heard Attila whisper in his ear. He turned around, surprised but happy to oblige. Not a moment later, a hard horsehead struck him in the shoulder.
“Oof,” Kai said, having his breath driven out of him by force and turning his attention to his four-legged charge. “Now what?”
“He appears to be jealous,” Attila supplied, ever helpful.
“Don’t do that,” Kai said to Cayenne in a stern voice. He stood up and placed his hand on Cayenne’s nose and pressed the nostrils partially shut. “Back up,” he said, exerting the slightest pressure.
“Nice going,” Attila said as Cayenne tolerated Kai’s dominant gesture.
Kai walked the horse backward, a loose lead rope in one hand and the other against the horse’s nose. “I get to kiss the boss whenever I want, Cayenne,” he carried on, stretching the good feeling from the night before. “And if you want to play with me and have fun with me, you better get used to having him around.” He stopped walking and dropped his hand. Cayenne stopped as well.
Kai took a few slow steps backward, crooking his finger at the horse, and Cayenne followed him. “Come,” he said, repeating the word over and over, then offered another apple slice. Kai glanced at Attila, pleased to see a small smile blossom on his face as he watched Cayenne eat the treat and press his head against Kai’s chest in a gesture of affection. Kai’s hands ran up and down his neck.
“He’s turning out pretty good,” Kai allowed. “As far as I can tell, anyway. Although he’d be less of a pain in the butt if he didn’t roll in the dirt all the time. Do you realize how much time it took to get his coat this shiny?”
Attila snorted at Kai’s exasperated tone. “Welcome to the horse business. It’s only fair to let you know that he loves to roll in mud puddles, I suppose.”
“At least all that grooming let me slip a pad on his back,” Kai said, determined to see the positive.
“Would you like to try riding him?” Attila asked, nodding toward the bareback pad on Cayenne’s back.
Kai turned to him with a grin. “Sure!”
Attila climbed through the fence and walked over at a sedate pace, not making eye contact with the horse. “Let’s take him to the fence, you can mount from there.” He extended a pale fist toward Cayenne in greeting. The stallion diverted his attention from his favorite human, giving Attila’s hand a perfunctory sniff. Then he moved a bit closer, using his nose to explore Attila from his hand down to his boots. Cayenne stopped his nose at the apple slice hiding in Attila’s fist, and Attila offered it, palm up, fingers together. Cayenne sniffed the apple. He paused for a few beats before he accepted the treat. Then he turned away from both of them, his body language clearly indicating that they were dismissed.
“Maybe this is not a good time,” Kai opined. “He looks kind of fed up.”
“I doubt it is wise to let him have his own head,” Attila frowned. “Then again, we didn’t start anything we are unable to finish, so no bad habits are actually being established just yet.”
“He’s doing okay,” Kai said, watching the horse’s dismissive body language. “At least he’s ignoring that saddle pad. You want to leave it there?”
“Yes. Leave the pad on his back until feeding time. Dinner can be his reward for letting you unbuckle his girth without taking a bite out of you.” There was no humor in Attila’s voice.
“Okay, boss.”
“So… you think you can kiss the boss whenever you want? Is that what you told your horse?” Attila said as he followed Kai out of the paddock. “I hope the privilege is reciprocal.”
“Umm…,” Kai stammered a bit. “I didn’t realize you could hear us. And he’s actually your horse.”
“Yes. More or less.”
They were in the barn by then, and Kai peeked up and down the corridor. May was at the other end with one of their clients, Tim—he knew him by his dark, spiky-haired silhouette against the bright light outside—helping him put socks on his tall, black gelding.
“Come in here, Kai,” Attila said, his voice betraying a hint of excitement as he entered the first unoccupied stall.
Kai followed, curious to see what his boss would show him next. Sinewy hands grabbed his arms and he was pushed into the wall.
Attila pressed against him, his hands sliding up the sides of Kai’s neck. “Watching you back that stallion up like that, no fear, no hesitation—that was really hot.” Attila leaned up to reach Kai’s lips with his own. Their breath mingled, their tongues touched. Kai moaned.
“Shh… we have to be quiet.”
Kai responded by flipping them over, his hands on the wall, framing Attila’s face. “You like when I back strong horses up?” he husked, letting their groins barely brush. One look at Attila’s face was answer enough: with pupils dilated and lips parted, Attila looked like Kai’s wet dream, and the black hair that spilled down the other man’s shoulders only completed the picture.
“I want you so bad, Kai. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
A simple brush of their lips stopped the flow of time around them. They were lost in another wild and breathless kiss. Kai’s forceful embrace just about melted Attila under him as his fingers plunged into Kai’s hair. They explored each other’s taste, and the delicious, slick warmth of their tongues had Attila close his eyes and moan in appreciation. Kai loved that he could make the formal and detached Attila Keleman lose composure with his kiss alone. The feeling was still so new, so incredible… Kai worked his hand down to the fly of Attila’s pants.
Attila stopped him with a nip on the neck. “I hear cars in the parking lot. Looks like I’ll have a class to teach soon.” Attila sounded disoriented and looked as though he just had a roll in the hay.
“Damn.” Kai let his lips brush Attila’s before he pushed away from the wall, breathing hard. “You’re such a tease.”
“I just could not restrain myself,” Attila claimed, his eyes just wide-eyed innocence.
That word, “restrain,” brought up all kinds of images. Kai groaned, his jeans painfully tight, but when he met Attila’s darkened gaze, he realized the word choice might not have been coincidental.
Attila, his hands bound with a lead rope.
Attila, bent over a bale of hay.
Attila, his hands tied to the rafter overhead with the ends of a training whip while Kai descended upon him, tasting all his secret places….
“Earth to Kai!” He startled, a guilty look on his heated face.
“For now, all I need you to do is saddle up the horses and put them in the cross-ties. Let their riders bridle them—it’s part of their instruction today.” The sultry look on Attila’s face disappeared as though with a wave of a magic wand, and Kai cleared his throat and nodded.
A
TTILA
entered the barn and checked on his students, his horses, and their equipment.
May flashed him a bemused look. “I don’t know who’s to blame or to reap praises for this, Attila, but you seem to be in such a good mood today!”
“Cayenne’s training is going well.”
“Ah, yes, Cayenne,” May nodded while buckling a leather strap. “Wild horses are just so much fun to tame, aren’t they?”
Attila’s eyes widened as he let his glance slide to the side. He had high hopes that his skin was no longer as flushed as before, but May had sharp eyes. The memory of Kai’s face over his did not help matters any and he felt like the walls began to close in on him. He needed more space. “Let me go check the arena and make sure the jumps are set up right,” he said. It was just an excuse—this class would just trot over a pair of crossed logs, and there wasn’t much to set up—but he felt an urgent need to escape May’s altogether penetrative eye. He cared about keeping his activities private; his staff and even his family would just have to find their entertainment elsewhere.
A
TTILA
’
S
black Bronco rumbled down the highway. He took the Cranberry exit and weaved his way through a semi-suburban area north of Pittsburgh. In a few turns, he arrived at a sprawling estate, and the guard waved him through the gate. They knew him by sight, since he came to see his grandfather every other week. Grandpa Keleman’s retirement facility was one of the nicer ones: the residents were taken out on field trips as much as their health allowed, their meals were prepared with care, and their small apartments were well maintained by the staff.
Attila hated coming here. The enforced cheer and sanitary housekeeping always reminded him that he was unable to provide the care his grandfather needed at home. It was nice, the best he could afford, but it was still an old folks’ warehouse where people played bingo and listened to guest speakers while waiting to die.
“Attila! Good to see you, my boy.” The elder Keleman rose from his chair and reached for his wheeled walker. “Let me see how you’re holding up.” His blue eyes were clouding with cataracts, forcing the old man to switch from books to audio recordings. His gaze was still sharp and perceptive, however, with a keen mind firmly in residence.
“Grandpa.” Attila clasped his shoulder. “You don’t have to get up.”
“Use it or lose it, ’Tila. Let’s go over to the window where I can see you better.”
They settled in stuffed chairs with a small table between them. A caretaker came in, bringing the customary pot of tea.
“Thank you,” Attila said, making sure to smile. He was always on his best manners, not for his grandfather—the old man knew him too well to put up a façade for his benefit—but to keep his grandfather in good graces with the staff, upon whom the old man now depended.
“So tell me about that ruffian of yours,” the old man inquired, once they were alone again. “Last I heard, he was bonding with Vermillion, and your sister Rita complained that Hal and this fellow keep getting into fights.”