Stockton County Cowboys Box Set

Chapter 14: Under My Denim

Chapter 14: Under My Denim

Inside the Barn

9:27 A.M.

“I’ll give you a little tour of the barn,” Francisco said after we left the local boys to enjoy their play in the water. “Not that there’s a lot to see.”

I followed him inside. In the distance, I could still hear the young men at play in the stream. Their voices were soft and innocent, rather appealing.

The barn’s interior was what you’d expect. Three stables on one side and tack and supplies on the other. Wisps of straw fluttered along as they walked the boarded floor. The rear of the barn housed large John Deere equipment: a 9760 STS combine, a tractor, and a tine-style drag seeder. A ladder led up to the hayloft above us.

As I took in the barn, Francisco’s cell rang. He excused himself and took the call. I heard him whisper “hey, Joel”—a call from his lover.

I decided to investigate the barn more closely, giving Francisco more privacy. I strolled through the stable, inhaling the sweet smells of hay and feed, as I heard him say, “I can be there in a second.”

What I saw: coiled ropes hung on the wall; a selection of high-end barrel saddles and other tack on wooden horses; pitchforks and shovels and other tools; a wooden door with two recessed brass handles set into the floor.

Francisco called “Bradley!” as soon as he hung up.

I’d wandered to the far end of the stable, but I started back toward Francisco as soon as he called.

He said, “Joel needs me back at the house; something to do with the water. Just look around all you want.”

I ducked my head, missing my cowboy hat, and said, “Not to worry. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I figured as much,” he grinned, tipped his hat, and left to tend to the water problem with his sexy boyfriend.

* * * *

Feeling like a boy, I climbed the ladder up to the second floor. It felt good to be doing something physical, even if it was just climbing a ladder. I breathed in the thick, sweet smell of hay, felt it trigger an overwhelming lust. I gave my privates a squeeze, feeling myself growing inside my jeans. I gasped in pleasure and squeezed myself again, feeling sweat on my thighs. How comfortable it felt to be alone in the barn. It was a total turn-on. I was fully erect under the denim, my eight-inch shaft pulsing. I stroked myself a third time, then froze. I heard the ladder creak and shake, then heard boots starting up the rungs.

Perhaps Francisco was back, coming to continue the tour. Or maybe Joel was looking for me, someone else to help with the water problem. No matter who was climbing the ladder, I was no longer steel-hard; my erection was deflating quickly. My moment of self-pleasure had ended abruptly.

To my utter surprise, Cord Darringer was coming up the ladder. He was facing away from me. I saw his Stetson first, then his broad shoulders, and finally his splay of muscled back. He wore a tan-and-beige plaid shirt, a thick leather belt, ass-snugging jeans, and his cowboy boots.

“Cord,” I said. My voice sounded faint, little more than a whisper. “You’re back from New York early. You weren’t supposed to be here until this afternoon.”

He turned and grinned at me. “There was a change of plans. One of my distributors in New York canceled our appointment and rescheduled for next week. I was on my way to the Tulsa office when Joel called to tell me you were here. It was a pleasant surprise.”

He looked edible with his unshaven cheeks, farmboy-style shirt, and one of his own rugged belt buckles. One pec was partly visible through his half-open shirt, and I licked my lips after catching sight of his curls of onyx chest hair and firm n****e. I was ready for whatever he had in mind for my city-boy flesh. My eyes dropped hungrily to his rodeo-rider buckle and feasted on the denim between his legs. I saw he was six inches soft, but I knew he could quickly grow into nine full inches of steamy, erect d**k.

“Glad to see you, friend,” he said, his voice low. He was sexy as hell and completely desirable.

“So you’re not pissed that I showed up out of the blue?” I asked, slightly nervous that he could be. How dare I jump on a plane from Naples to Tulsa, coming to his ranch with no notice? What kind of cowboy chaser was I? What would make me think that was a good idea?

He grinned at me, tipped his hat, and said in a confident, sexy tone, “I knew you’d come, Bradley. I’m a patient man and I was just waiting for you. In truth, I’m glad you finally made it. What took you so long?”