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A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Ralston’s Way ISBN #978-0-85715-629-7 ©Copyright Talia Carmichael 2011 Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2011 Edited by Rebecca Hill Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
Prentiss
RALSTON’S WAY Talia Carmichael
Dedication To my family, who have believed in me from the very beginning. Thanks for your support. To my friends and my crit partner, who listen to my ideas and give their unbiased opinions. I appreciate all you do for me.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Google: Google Inc. Batman: DC Comics The Joker: DC Comics Stetson: John B. Stetson Company Lexus: Toyota Motor Corporation Doctors Without Borders: Bureau International de Medecins Sans Frontieres iPad: Apple Inc.
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Chapter One
“I hired an office manager.” Morgan Ralston stopped and turned. He ignored the squelch of the mud that caked his clothing and boots. “What did you say?” He eyed Gibson. “I hired an office manager to take over the office operations, big brother.” Gibson Ralston smiled, unperturbed by Morgan’s disbelieving look. “What are you going to be doing, then?” Morgan asked mildly. “Many things.” Gibson’s grin widened. “Get to the point.” Morgan took a step forward. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor made him look down. He winced at the mud tracks he had made from the door. “Let me clean up first. Then”—he narrowed his eyes —“you will explain.” He turned and continued up the stairs. “Abby’s going to tan your hide for messing up her floor.” “Clean it before she sees it,” Morgan said, without looking back. “What the hell is this? My floors!” a voice roared. “Too late.” Gibson sounded amused. Morgan glanced back at him, scowling. Gibson chuckled. Morgan glanced past him at the woman standing with her hands on her hips. “I’ll clean it up when I get back, Abby.” Morgan knew better than to displease his housekeeper. “You’d better,” she warned. “I’ll make sure he does,” Gibson promised. “Always trying to get your brother in trouble.” Abby smacked him with her towel, then walked away muttering about messy floors. “Go on. I’ll clean up. Meet me in my office so we can talk.” Gibson grinned. Morgan nodded and went up the stairs. Gibson being so amused, not to mention so helpful, did not bode well for their upcoming conversation. He was pretty sure what Gibson had to tell him would be something he would not like. His mood was grim as he stripped,
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showered and changed. Afterwards he returned downstairs to his office and grabbed some papers from his safe. He opened the door that connected his brother’s office to his, strode to the couch and took a seat. His brother glanced up at him from where he sat behind the desk. Gibson stood, picking up some papers, and came over, sitting in the armchair closest to the couch. “Explain.” Morgan was succinct. “Do you remember Thomas Ward?” Morgan nodded. He remembered Gibson’s friend. The tall, lanky man with the dark brown eyes and curly, red hair had visited about six months ago. Thomas was one of Gibson’s college friends from California. When Thomas had first come to the ranch, Morgan hadn’t known what to expect, but the man, who said very little, had impressed him. Thomas was one hell of a horseman and could keep up with the rest of the ranch hands. He hadn’t balked at anything. “Well, we’re going ahead with the horse breeding. So I hired an office manager to take over my duties here. He’ll be updating the databases for the files and making a few other upgrades. ” Gibson smiled widely. The smile, mixed with that unholy look in his eyes, let Morgan know there was more. More that he would not like. “What else?” “I also hired a cook.” “A cook?” He sat up. “Are you crazy? What about Abby?” “I spoke with her already. She’s for it. Said she wouldn’t mind having someone else to do the cooking. Abby would become more of a manager of the household staff. In charge of the cook for the main house and another for the bunkhouse. She’d also get to hire help to clean the house when she needs it, or for parties and so on,” Gibson replied. Morgan sat back, thinking about what Gibson had said. Absently, he noted that some of the items his brother kept in his spacious office were not in their usual places. He couldn’t think of any reason what Gibson was saying didn’t make sense. He knew Abby wouldn’t have agreed unless she was really for it. They had a yearly party, and Abby usually got people in to help out with that. Their yearly event was attended not just by other ranchers in the area, but by people from all over. Their success as a sizeable, thriving ranch was due in part to his brother being such an astute businessman.
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“Is that all?” Morgan asked dryly. “For now. Change is a good thing.” Gibson laughed. Morgan grunted, then said, “So, you’re really going to become a horse breeder. It isn’t an easy business.” “I know. But this is what I want to do,” Gibson said. Morgan studied his brother. He still remembered him as the little boy who had followed him around. “Show me what you’ve done,” Morgan demanded. “How do you know I’ve done anything?” Gibson asked. Silently, Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Okay. You know me.” “Don’t you forget it, little bro,” Morgan said. “Little? Only by four years,” Gibson retorted. “Yep.” Morgan smiled. Morgan checked the time, then stood, picking up his papers and going to the intercom on the wall. “Abby, we’re going out and will be back in about two hours for dinner.” “You got it,” Abby replied over the line. Gibson stood, holding his own papers. They walked out of the office and down the hall to the door leading outside. “This is going to be a good change,” Gibson said. “We’ll see,” Morgan grunted.
Almost half an hour later, Morgan parked his truck and got out. He studied the restored barn and the other buildings surrounding it. From where he stood, he could see the yard a little way in front of the house had also been cleaned. He imagined the other two houses and the cabins in this area had probably been cleaned up as well. Morgan strode to the barn. Gibson walked with him. As they looked around the barn, bunkhouse, various paddocks and other buildings, he asked questions and Gibson answered them. When they returned to the building designated as an office, Morgan took a seat. “So, this is what you’ve been busy doing out here.”
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“You knew?” Gibson looked exasperated. “Nothing happens on this ranch without me knowing,” Morgan said calmly. “You know that’s annoying, don’t you—you always knowing everything?” Gibson made a disgusted noise. “I don’t know everything,” Morgan replied. “You only act as if you do.” Morgan made sound of agreement. “We’re ready to get started as soon as Thomas arrives,” Gibson said. “And when is he coming?” “Tomorrow morning.” Gibson’s lips twitched. Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “And you tell me the night before?” “Didn’t want you to think of ways to postpone it.” Gibson shrugged. Surprised, Morgan sat forward. “Why would I postpone it?” Gibson looked uneasy. “I know you didn’t take me seriously about the horse breeding. When I came back from college four years ago, I talked about it some, but it was still just a thought. Then a year ago, I mentioned it because Thomas and I had been talking about it. When he visited a few months back, we had the plans ready. We showed you what we had, but you didn’t show any interest. I figured I would need to move forward on my own to get it done.” Morgan handed Gibson the papers he had been walking around with. Gibson took them, his look questioning. Morgan motioned for him to read them as he reclined back on the couch. Gibson started to read. He stopped after a few moments, glancing up at Morgan with shock on his face. “A contract and cheque for your share of the breeding business? I didn’t think you even read the proposal we gave you.” “I read it. Liked what I saw. Looked into some things,” Morgan said. “The contract is dated a month after I gave you the proposal. Why didn’t you say something?” Gibson asked. “I was waiting for you to say you were ready. I did decide that, instead of the ranch being part of the business, I would invest personally.” He shrugged. “You could have just said something,” Gibson insisted.
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“Figured you would come to me when you were ready. And you did.” He gave another shrug. “Besides, I knew something was going on with all those people in and out of this area. I didn’t come and see what, since it’s your land. I’m glad to see the old family homestead looking better than it ever did.” “It’s my land—that you gave to me in the middle of your ranch,” Gibson countered. Morgan watched him silently. It was Gibson’s land. Morgan had given it to him on his eighteenth birthday. It was their old family home, the place where they’d grown up. It was only fitting that a place with so many good memories be given to his only kin. When Gibson had gone away for college, Morgan had wondered if he would return or stay in California. If Gibson hadn’t returned, and had wanted to sell the property, Morgan would have bought the land back from him to keep it part of the MGR Ranch. But Gibson had returned from college and had gradually taken over as the office manager for the ranch. He had spoken sporadically over the years about his dream of being a horse breeder, but it hadn’t been until a year ago he’d seemed to get serious about it. When he had invited Thomas to the ranch, and they had presented their proposal, asking Morgan to be a partner in their venture, he hadn’t said much, just listened. Then he had checked things out and made his decision. “I can’t believe you’ve had these drawn up so long and said nothing,” Gibson said. “After hearing you and Thomas, and finding out a few things, I had Win draw up the contracts. Is Thomas bringing Isis and Filmore?” The look on Gibson’s face showed that Morgan had surprised him again. Morgan smiled. Gibson laughed. “I should have figured you would check him out. Hell, you probably checked out all about the breeding business.” “I don’t go into business with someone I don’t know. And of course I did my research,” Morgan stated. “Yes, he’s bringing them.” Morgan nodded. “I know you all had mentioned you had horses that were already known in the breeding world, but I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant when I had Win draw up the papers. I’m assuming you and Thomas have some contract drawn up that he’ll remain owner of Isis and Filmore and that in it y’all have some financial arrangement on their use for the business. I wasn’t sure what y’all had agreed on, so I left that until we could
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discuss it. Win is out of town, but I’ll email him to have him add an addendum to the contract with the terms you’ve agreed upon. He can send the revisions to one of his law clerks, and they’ll come out to the ranch so we can sign everything.” “Yes, we do have an agreement about all that.” Gibson nodded, then added, “But we have another partner, and he’s putting up the same money as each of us. He’s also bringing his horses in under a similar agreement. So there will be four of us.” “What? Who?” Morgan wasn’t sure if he liked this. “Paxton Lawson.” Gibson sounded smug. Morgan blinked. He knew that name. From his research, he knew Paxton Lawson was considered one of the top horse breeders in the world. His horses—Ra, Anubis, Horus, and Sekhmet—were known to breed winners. He had seemed to disappear from the breeding world about five years ago, around the time he had lost his partner. “Why would Paxton Lawson join your business?” Morgan asked. “He’s family. We’re all family. And families stick together. It’s the same reason HC and Blayne are moving here to MGR to be our cook and operations manager, and the same reason Thomas and I are going into business with you and Paxton.” Gibson’s tone was sure. From the many times he had talked about his friends from California, Morgan recognised the names Gibson had used. Gibson had understated what his friends did. HC wasn’t a cook. He was a chef, and a very sought-after one. And Morgan also knew Blayne was in high demand for his skill with computers. Morgan even remembered Gibson mentioning once that Blayne had created some computer code for the government or something. “These men are moving here because they see you as family?” Morgan asked in disbelief. “You would do the same for me,” Gibson replied. Morgan couldn’t say anything to dispute that. He would do anything for his family. They stood and walked back the way they had come, got into the truck and headed home. Morgan didn’t speak until they pulled into the yard in front of the main house. “I know Thomas and Paxton have experience. But do the other two know anything about horses or a working ranch?” “You’ll have to wait and see,” Gibson replied. Morgan got out of the truck and strode off
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“Where are you going?” Gibson asked as he slammed the truck door. Morgan didn’t slow as he replied, “To warn Drake.” “Warn him about the city folk invading the ranch, you mean?” Gibson’s laughter followed him. Morgan didn’t even answer him, since what he’d said was true. He prayed for patience with all that Gibson had sprung on him. Gibson going ahead with the breeding he mentioned Morgan had anticipated and even prepared for. But he hadn’t expected the necessity of an operations manager to replace Gibson. Although he wouldn’t tell Gibson, Morgan knew he was right to hire the operations manager. Over the last few years the things Gibson did had made it easier for Morgan to focus on the ranching part of things and not be bogged down with paperwork. As for the cook to work on the ranch, that was all Abby’s domain but it grated that she and Gibson had talked about it without consulting him. Morgan hoped to hell that the men coming wouldn’t cause any disruption. He snorted, knowing it was a futile wish. And they wonder why I hate change.
**** “Why am I doing this again?” Blayne Dalton murmured. “For family,” said a deep voice crackled from the dashboard. “Because you’re crazy, just like us,” another voice said, sounding a little too chipper. “I’m very sane. You, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about, HC,” Blayne replied. “He’s always been crazy,” the deep voice said. “Shut up, Tommy,” HC said cheerfully. Thomas grunted. Blayne smiled. The two of them liked to bicker. Actually, it was more like HC bitched to get a rise out of Thomas, while Thomas ignored HC to irritate him. It drove HC nuts when Thomas got what he called “all silent and ghost-like.” Blayne enjoyed it when it happened, because it meant they weren’t coming up with ways to irritate him. “Besides, this is some mighty pretty country,” HC said. Blayne looked out of the windscreen of his SUV, unable to dispute the statement. Their little motorcade had garnered attention as they’d passed through the main area of Prentiss, Texas. With him in the lead car, HC behind him and Thomas and Paxton in the trailer at the
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back, they had to be a sight. The truth of what Gibson had been telling them for years was before them. Gibson’s hometown was a mixture of small town charm with a little big city thrown in. It was also as beautiful as Gibson had said. The town area faded away as they drove into the rolling hills. It was plain this was ranch country, with large expanses of land as far as the eye could see and a few cattle at the side of the road as he drove along the blacktop. “Someone’s cattle are out. Better call Gibson,” a smooth, calm voice said. “I’ll call him, Paxton,” HC volunteered. He disconnected from their conference call. “We’ll be there in another fifteen minutes,” Thomas said. “Okay. Let me get off so I don’t miss our turn,” Blayne replied. “It’ll all work out, Blayne,” Paxton’s steady voice said. “I know.” He disconnected. Blayne turned under the archway that read MGR Ranch. As he drove down the road, following the directions Gibson had given him, he couldn’t decide if he was excited at finally being here or not. As the beautiful landscape levelled off to reveal the ranch buildings, he felt his excitement win over. He couldn’t wait to get started. Driving over a slight hill, he gasped as the main part of the ranch came into view. The house was fairly large. From what Gibson had mentioned, his office would be on the right side of the house and could be entered either from the side door leading down the hall or the front door. On the left was the kitchen, with suites of rooms for the housekeepers to each side. There were also guest rooms on the main floor. The second floor was Gibson’s, and the third was his brother Morgan’s. Blayne studied the barn and other outbuildings, some close by and others within riding distance. Cowboys, mounted or on foot, were working. As he got closer, the sound of people and cattle came to him, even though his windows were closed. He pulled up in front of the house parking and took a deep breath. “This will work out,” He told himself. He got out of the car and walked over to stand next to HC, who was flanked on the other side by Thomas. Blayne glanced up the steps at the men standing close to the front door, slightly shaded by the porch. He knew which was Gibson, but the other two, he didn’t recognise. Their faces were shadowed by their Stetsons. He had seen pictures of Morgan, Gibson’s brother, but hadn’t met the man. He and HC had never been able to get out to visit Gibson at the ranch, although Gibson had been out to see them in California a few times.
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From what he remembered of the pictures of Gibson’s brother, the man didn’t know how to smile or be without his hat. In every photos Morgan had looked grim and had been wearing a Stetson. From the little Blayne had seen of the man, he was handsome, but seemed rigid. “So, when do you think Gibson told his brother we were coming? I say it was this morning,” HC said. “A week ago,” Thomas said, with no hesitation. Blayne studied the men on the porch. “Last night.” “Bet?” HC asked. “Bet,” Thomas echoed. “Bet. I am so looking forward to winning this one,” Blayne said. “And since Gibson just sprang us on his brother, he’ll have to ante up, too. Serves him right.” The others made noises of agreement. They didn’t have to discuss the stakes of the wager. It was always the same. They had come up with the terms in college. Each man would put up a thousand dollars towards something the winner wanted—something that had to do with his particular interests. HC loved anything to do with cooking, so if he won he would pick something along those lines. For Thomas, when he won a bet, the money was spent on his second passion, after horses—his art. He was a brilliant painter and sculptor. “I can get that laptop I was planning to before you cheated.” Blayne looked at HC. “No need to be a sore loser.” HC smiled. “Bastard,” Blayne said. “Hey. If you can’t live without your gadgets, then you shouldn’t bet,” HC said. Thomas grunted in agreement. Blayne glared at him. Thomas gave him a small smile. Blayne sighed. They were right. And they knew him well. He was a gadget junkie, especially for computer-related stuff. The stakes for their bets called for the loser not to buy anything for six months related to what he would have bought had he won. The only way out of the six month rule was if another bet was called and the winner changed. Since Blayne had lost the last bet, he hadn’t been allowed, under the rules, to get the computer he had been about to order. The others had thought it was funny. He changed his laptop often, and they knew it. “I bet because I like beating you fools,” Blayne said. HC and Thomas looked at each other, then back at him. His lips twitched and they started to laugh. Blayne glanced back at the men watching them. The one closest to Gibson
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said something Blayne couldn’t hear. The man walked forward. It was a confident, graceful, rolling gait that screamed power. Some instinct let Blayne know this was Morgan, Gibson’s brother and the owner of the MGR Ranch. Now his boss. The man stepped into the light and raised his head. Blayne gasped. The photos he had seen had not done Morgan any justice. His tanned, rugged features showed his long work in the sun. A firm chin, lips, and slightly flared nostrils offset his steely, blue-grey eyes and the short, brown hair just visible beneath the hat he wore. The eyes, so much like Gibson’s, were enough to tell Blayne that his guess was correct— this was Morgan. In his eyes, Blayne saw the look of a man who had seen and done much. If he had to guess, he would estimate Morgan had to be at least six–foot-three, well over his own height of six feet. He glanced down the man’s frame. The breadth of his shoulders tapered into a full chest, then a narrow waist and jean-clad legs. His booted feet were braced apart. “Now, now. No ogling the boss man and possibly frightening him,” HC said. Blayne dragged his gaze away and focused on HC “I hope like hell Gibson told him we’re all gay, or this will be the shortest job I’ve ever had.” He glanced at Thomas. “I don’t know if he did or not. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with Gibson.” Thomas shrugged. Blayne glanced back at the man watching them. “I think us being gay is the least of our problems. He doesn’t look very happy. Maybe Gibson didn’t even tell him we were coming.” “Oh, that would be just like the damn Texan.” HC laughed. Thomas joined him. Blayne didn’t laugh, just continued studying the large man.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Morgan growled. Gibson chuckled again, saying nothing. Morgan glared at his brother, then exchanged a glance with Drake Finley, his ranch foreman. The man’s look said what he was thinking. The men facing them would cause major problems. Morgan recognised Thomas, the tall, lanky man leaning against the side of the large SUV. From Thomas’s last visit here, Morgan knew he wouldn’t have a problem fitting in. The others, he wasn’t so sure about. He studied the two men, whom he had already dubbed Viking Biker and the Prima Donna.
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He had heard the Viking Biker coming before he had even seen their cars. The growl of the bike had resounded over the usual ranch noise. The man who had stepped off the bike was impressive. He was the same height as Morgan. His blond, slightly curling, shoulderlength hair fell around a face carved with planes and angles that made him undeniably handsome. He was all in black, from his T-shirt, stretched across a barrel chest, and jeans that hugged his thighs, to his knee-high boots with silver buckles. Tattoos covered both arms from his elbow, disappearing below his shirtsleeves. There was an insolence about him that said he knew he was trouble and embraced it. The Prima Donna was dressed in a suit. It had obviously been tailored to fit his lean frame to perfection. His shoes gleamed in the sun. He looked expensive, and it suited his looks. He was blond, too, but with a variety of shades of blond mixed with brown that reminded Morgan of a tabby cat. When he turned to speak with the Viking Biker next to him, Morgan could see his hair was braided tightly, the end of the braid falling to just above his tight butt. He gestured with his hands as he talked, his movements graceful. If Morgan had to guess, the Viking Biker was Blayne, the computer guru, and the Prima Donna was the chef. Abby was going to have a fit when she saw him. “It’ll be fine,” Gibson said. The Viking Biker walked up the steps to join them. He and Gibson embraced, ribbing each other. Gibson made the introductions. “HC Wagner, this is my brother, Morgan, and the ranch foreman, Drake Finley.” Morgan tried to keep the surprise off his face at learning the biker was the chef. “Nice to meet ya. What’s HC stand for?” “Pleased to meet you, too. But I can’t tell what my initials stand for.” His voice was bassy and had a slight cadence Morgan couldn’t place. There was a devilish look in his light green gaze. They shook hands, then Drake and HC shook. “Come let me introduce you to Abby,” Gibson said. “Nah. Let me make my own intro. You’ve said so much about her, I can’t wait to meet her,” HC said cheerfully. He strolled past them and went into the house. Morgan glanced at Drake, then at the now-open door. He started to count. “One, two, three, f—”
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“Are you shitting me?” Abby roared. Rapid footsteps, then she came out of the door. Her red hair was pulled back in a tight braid. She was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. “You expect me to share my kitchen with him?” she hissed. She stalked over to Gibson and made a fist. Gibson started talking rapidly. “Now, Abby. Give HC a chance. He can cook. He’s willing to follow your directions and learn from you.” Morgan made a rude noise. HC was a chef, and although Abby was a great cook, she wasn’t formally trained. “That is such a load of horse shit. The man is a chef.” Abby gave Gibson a narrow-eyed stare. Gibson blinked. “Um.” “Hah! Didn’t think I knew that, did you, boyo? I can Google with the best of them,” Abby said. Morgan moved closer, enquiring, “If you know who he is, what’s the problem, then?” Abby turned her narrow-eyed stare on him. “He’s an Irishman.” Morgan stifled a smile. He knew all about the stories of Abby’s short marriage to a silver-tongued devil who was an Irishman, but Abby talked about the time with more fondness than upset. Morgan figured it was all bluster how she was acting with HC. A way of testing him to see how he would react. “Technically, I was born there, but raised here. Come on, Abby. We’ll get to know each other,” HC said. He led Abby back towards the house, talking about all manner of things. Morgan didn’t really pay attention to what was being said, just kept an eye on things to see if there was a need to intercede. Whenever she tried to pull away or interject he cheerfully stopped her. HC looked back at them just before they entered the house and winked. “He’ll grow on you,” a low, modulated voice said. Morgan turned. His gaze was captured by hazel green. There was something about the eyes that seemed weird. He leaned closer, then caught himself. The man smirked. Morgan narrowed his eyes. “Blayne Dalton, this is my big bro, Morgan,” Gibson said.
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Blayne put out his hand, the look on his face daring. Morgan took it. A shaft of need coursed through him at the touch. He kept himself contained, his expression blank, watching the other man. Blayne studied Morgan in return, a small smile on his lips. Morgan released his hand, then motioned to Drake that they should go. He stepped around Blayne. “Gibson will show you to where you’ll be staying, and your office. And you can go over what you all have planned.” He glanced at Gibson. “Keep me advised.” He walked rapidly down the steps behind Drake. They stopped beside Thomas. “Hey, Thomas. Can I get a glimpse of your horses? I’ve heard a lot about them,” Morgan said. “Sure.” Thomas nodded and led him towards the horse trailers. “I thought Paxton was coming with you.” “I did,” a smooth voice said. Morgan looked around as the whipcord of a man jumped down from the back of the trailer. Paxton Lawson strolled towards him with loose-legged strides. He reached Morgan and shook his hand. There was a shadowed look in his pale grey eyes. Paxton took off his Stetson and ran his long fingers through his messy, curly, black hair. “Come and meet our babies,” Paxton said. Drake followed behind Thomas and Paxton. Morgan began to follow them, but stopped and glanced back at the porch. Blayne was watching him. He nodded abruptly, then turned and went after the other men. He listened and asked questions as Paxton talked about the horses. After a little while, he left them to get themselves and the horses settled in to their new home.
He saddled Zeus and rode out of the yard with Drake riding alongside him. Drake glanced over at him as they rode towards where they were branding. “Gibson sure knows how to shake things up,” Drake said in his non-committal way. Morgan didn’t reply. They were almost at the south range when Drake spoke again. “That Blayne fellow sure was prissy-looking. But HC—that one seems like he’s trouble.” Morgan didn’t correct him. The look in Blayne’s eyes had given Morgan the feeling in his gut that he was the one who would be trouble. Arriving, Morgan dismounted and got to work. He pushed all thoughts of the blond-haired, hazel-green-eyed man from his mind.
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Chapter Two
“Boss, there’s this big truck pulling into the yard,” Drake said. “Stop calling me Boss,” Morgan said, for what seemed like the millionth time. He only called him Boss when he wanted to irritate him. Drake chuckled. “Okay, Boss. That sucker is huge.” “What?” Morgan raised his head from cleaning Zeus’s shoe. “The truck. Seems as if they’re getting more stuff,” Drake said. Morgan grunted and went back to work. A few moments later, Drake made a comment he didn’t catch. “What’d you say?” Morgan asked as he put down Zeus’s hoof. “It’s not going to Gibson’s. It stopped at the main house.” Morgan exited the stall, put his things down, and walked to the open barn door. He stood next to Drake and watched the truck backing up. Morgan cursed and walked rapidly towards the main house. He hadn’t ordered anything, and hadn’t been told there were going to be any deliveries. Within moments, he was entering the side door of the house. He towards the open door of what was now Blayne’s office and paused in the doorway. He frowned at the empty office. “It’s not that I don’t like you.” Blayne’s voice came from behind the desk. Morgan strode over. He glanced over the desk and spotted Blayne with his back to him, on his hands and knees. Morgan suppressed a smile when he saw who he was talking to. “Now, fellow. I’m more of a cat person,” Blayne said as he turned. The dog woofed, then licked his face and mouth. Blayne sputtered, fell back on his butt, and wiped his mouth and face. “Yuck. That’s not going to get me to like you.” The dog woofed again and put his head on Blayne’s knee. Blayne glanced down at the dog and sighed. He patted his head. “You’re one determined fellow. I’ve been trying to get rid of you for a week, but you keep coming back. I wonder what breed of dog you are. What’s your name?” Blayne asked, leaning down.
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“Bernese Mountain Dog. His name is Dwayne,” Morgan supplied. Blayne gasped and looked up at him. Dwayne looked up, too, when he heard his name. He wagged his tail and came over to Morgan, who patted him and motioned for him to sit. Dwayne sat, still wagging his tail. Morgan glanced back at Blayne, who was now standing behind the desk. Although he had been crawling on the floor and been licked by Dwayne, he still looked unruffled. His hair was still in that tight, neat braid. Morgan clenched his fists, resisting the urge to reach out, untie the braid and see how his hair looked loose. Control yourself. “Is he yours?” Blayne’s voice captured his attention. “Yeah,” Morgan said. The sound of a horn made him remember why he was there. “There’s a big truck in my yard that I wasn’t told about,” Morgan said mildly. The narrowing of Blayne’s eyes let him know that he had heard the underlying rebuke. Blayne crossed his arms over his chest. “If you would meet with me, as I have been asking you to do, you would know,” Blayne replied in the same, mild tone. “Tell me now.” Morgan refused to feel guilty. “It’s the new computers for our system upgrade. They’re for in here, in the barns, and other places. Also for the breeding area,” Blayne replied. Morgan nodded. He remembered Gibson saying something about Blayne upgrading their systems and linking the computers they needed to interface with the breeding operation. However, Morgan hadn’t known it would involve new computers. Blayne was shuffling papers on the desk. “I need some place to put the equipment until I can get it all installed.” “They’re not going to install it?” Blayne glanced up and gave him a dirty look. “Like I would let them do that.” He went back to what he was doing. “Fine. Put them in my office.” Blayne paused, looking at him again. “Are you sure?” “Go ahead. Shouldn’t be that bad,” Morgan said.
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“Fine. I’m going to be swapping out the old systems for the new ones over the next few days.” Blayne picked up some papers and strode around the desk. Morgan started after his retreating figure. Blayne paused in the office doorway. “Is there anything else?” His tone was blatantly insolent. “No.” Morgan bared his teeth. Blayne leaned against the doorframe and studied him. After a few moments, he asked, “Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me?” Morgan stiffened. “I haven’t. I’ve been busy running my ranch.” “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been doing. Keep telling yourself that.” Blayne made a flipping motion with his hand. He turned and walked away. Morgan gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Blayne’s words were very true. Gibson had filled him in on some of the things they had planned for the office, but had also told him that he and Blayne needed to discuss some things. Morgan had waved it off, stating that he was too busy. Blayne could do what he wanted. He had ignored Gibson’s look and gone back to work. Blayne had been trying to get to talk to him for days, and he had been avoiding it. Morgan strode back outside. He glanced at Blayne, who was standing by the truck with the driver. Blayne glanced up, then away. A woof made Morgan look down. “Traitor,” he said to Dwayne. Dwayne woofed again, tail wagging. Morgan patted his head, then Dwayne ran to Blayne, sitting next to him. Blayne absently reached down and petted the dog. Morgan frowned, then went to the barn. Drake was waiting for him by the door. “Sure is a big truck,” Drake said. “It’s computers. He’s upgrading them. He’s replacing the ones in various barns and places. He’ll probably need to get into your house to do the one in your office. He’s creating some sort of programme to link them all.” Morgan frowned. ”He mentioned other places, too.” “What other places?” Drake asked. Morgan stared at him. Drake gave him a funny look. “Morgan, you don’t know.” Morgan pushed him out of his way. He ignored Drake’s bark of laughter. He went back to work, and Drake joined him. Not too long afterwards, Drake started whistling as he usually did when working. It was oddly calming.
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Later, he opened his office door and stepped inside. He stopped in the doorway. Shocked, he looked at all the boxes piled around his office. It made the usually spacious area seem cluttered. Silently counting, trying to keep his temper, he went to Blayne’s office. He walked in and noticed the lack of any boxes cluttering up the place. Blayne’s head came up from behind the desk, where Morgan noticed a new-looking computer. The printer behind in the hutch seemed new, and the fax machine. He opened his mouth. “You said I could use your office to store the equipment,” Blayne pointed out. Morgan closed his mouth, turned, and strode back out of Blayne’s office. “It’ll be only for a few days,” Blayne called, amusement plain in his voice. Morgan merely grunted.
Blayne chuckled as he went back to setting up his new computer system. He hummed as he worked. He’d reviewed then copied the files on the computer they had. When he’d spoken to Gibson about the computers, he’d known they would all have to be replaced. He had ordered the new ones a month ago, built to his specifications, and set them to arrive today. It gave him enough time to go over the systems and discuss things with Morgan. At least, that had been the plan. He hadn’t expected Morgan to avoid him. His mind filled with images of the tall, rugged cowboy. The man was aggravating in his refusal to discuss what Blayne had planned for the office. No matter what Morgan said, Blayne knew he was avoiding him. If only he could figure out why. He hadn’t done anything he could think of. You flirted with the man, Blayne. Blayne sat back. He imagined those blunt-looking fingers on his body. He shuddered. “Stop it,” he said out loud. He didn’t even know if Morgan was gay. Just because Gibson was, that didn’t mean anything. When he had asked Gibson, he had flat out refused to answer, telling him to ask Morgan himself. Blayne wasn’t about to do that. Shaking his head, he focused back on his task. Once he’d finished, he loaded the files onto the computer and stood, ready to get started on the next one. You have more than enough to do. Keep your mind on work, and off Morgan.
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A few days later, Blayne sat at his desk, working on the network for the computers he had installed. “Come with me,” Morgan said. “Huh?” Blayne glanced up. Morgan was standing in the doorway watching him. “Get dressed. Gibson said you could ride. To work here, you need to understand what we do.” Morgan held out a pair of boots and jeans. There was a challenge on Morgan’s face, and a slight smile. Blayne imagined he thought he would refuse. He stood and took the items. Blayne went into the full bathroom that was on the right side of his office and got dressed quickly. When he came out, Morgan nodded, then strode out the office. Blayne followed behind that firm-looking, jean-clad ass. When Morgan stopped and looked back at him, Blayne glanced away guiltily. Morgan was expressionless. He held out a Stetson. Blayne glanced at it, then took it and put it on, following Morgan as went out of the door. In the barn, two horses were saddled, waiting for them. “This is Sheba. Next time, you can saddle her yourself. “ Blayne stepped up to the palomino Arabian. It was beautiful, with strong lines. He quickly checked its rigging. Morgan gave a grunt. Blayne glanced at him and Morgan gestured. “This is Zeus.” Blayne went over and walked around the black Mustang. It was regal. “Let’s go,” Morgan said, leading his horse out, then mounting. Blayne got on the palomino and followed him. They rode for a while, until the sound of cattle and men reached Blayne. Morgan rode towards the noise, then dismounted and tied his horse to a rail. Blayne did the same. He followed Morgan as he strode over to Drake. “Put Blayne to work,” Morgan said, and walked away. Drake looked at him and smiled. Blayne narrowed his eyes, then smiled in return. “Put me to work,” he said with a shrug. As Drake led him towards the cattle, he hoped he wouldn’t regret those words. The scent of the cattle and sound of the men surrounded him as Drake explained what he wanted him to do.
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Blayne helped hold down the calf as they branded it. The smell of burning filled the air. Blayne wrinkled his nose. As soon as they had finished with one calf, they moved to the next, and the next—on and on. Blayne followed what he was told and worked. Time passed, and he began to get the hang of the branding.
Heading home after a long day, Blayne stifled a groan at the heaviness in his arms, back, and shoulders. He hissed as he got off the horse. Rubbing his ass, he walked to the house a little behind the main ranch house. Once inside, he moaned, glad to be home. He glanced at the table by the door, and picked up a tube and a note that hadn’t been there when he had left that morning. Meet you in the office tomorrow at 10 am. Morgan He looked at the tube of liniment, then back at the note. A smile curled his lips. Humming, he went to take a hot bath. Afterwards, he rubbed the liniment on his sore muscles and went to bed. Shifting, he looked out of the window at the stars. Once we’ve discussed my plans tomorrow, I can finally get the programme built. Maybe he’ll be more accessible now. Those were his last thoughts as he went to sleep.
Furious, Blayne slammed his book onto his desk. He stalked over to the window and glared out at the empty yard, bracing his hands against the window ledge. “What’s got you so mad?” Morgan’s voice said behind him. Blayne whirled and stared at him. Morgan was leaning in the open doorway of his office. Blayne walked over to his desk. “So you finally deign to grace me with your presence,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Morgan’s tone was mild. It only aggravated Blayne’s mood. “Fine. We were supposed to meet over two weeks ago to discuss what I wanted to do.” “Didn’t you get my note saying to go ahead with whatever you wanted?” Blayne gritted his teeth. “Yes, bu—” He interrupted. “Did you do it?” “Yes, bu—”
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Morgan did it again. “So what’s the problem?” Blayne stared at him, then asked between clenched teeth, “Can you let me finish?” Morgan nodded, a small smile on his lips. Blayne breathed out, then spoke. “I did, but I wanted to go over it with you before I proceeded.” “From what I see, you did fine. Made things easier and more concise.” Morgan shrugged. Blayne blinked, then asked, “How do you know?” “I’ve been looking at what you set up. I did have a few questions,” Morgan said. “Okay,” Blayne said. Morgan asked questions, and he answered. With each question, Blayne tried to understand what was happening. Morgan made a few suggestions, and he agreed with them. “Okay. If you make the changes, it will make it much better. Sounds good.” Morgan stood. “The old programme wasn’t so bad. Just needed to be tweaked and modified some. Who built the code?” Morgan smiled, then said, “I did.” Blayne tried to hide his shock. “Computerising my records to make it easier to run the ranch is only smart. Ranching is a comprehensive business. And I like knowing all aspects of my business.” Morgan went to the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “The funny thing about assumptions. They usually prove false.” He left. Blayne sat and stared at the empty doorway. He smiled. From his few interactions with Morgan, he was coming to realise there was more to the man than met the eye. “And by the way…” Morgan said. Blayne glanced up. Morgan strolled towards him in a seemingly predatory way. Instinct made Blayne stand. Morgan walked up to him and pulled him in to his chest. “Wha—” Morgan kissed him. It wasn’t tentative. It was a claiming—hard, firm and marking Blayne as his. Blayne gripped his shoulder. Morgan bit his bottom lip. Blayne gasped as Morgan stroked his tongue inside his mouth, then suckled Blayne’s tongue into his own
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mouth. He gripped Blayne’s ass, lifting him against his firm body. Blayne moaned and rubbed against him. He hissed as their erections brushed against each other. Morgan groaned and ground back against Blayne. He pulled away and removed Blayne’s hands from his shoulders. Morgan stepped back, turned, and walked out. Blayne sagged into the chair. He lifted a shaking hand to his swollen lips. “Well, at least now I know he’s gay. And interested.” His voice was rough and husky. Blayne let out a breath. He cleared his throat, then started on the changes Morgan had suggested.
**** “Dinner time.” Blayne glanced up at HC. He was leaning in the open doorway. “Did Abby finally let you cook?” Blayne asked as he closed his programme. “Nope. I’m making progress, though. She’s letting me be sous-chef.” HC chuckled. Blayne laughed. HC was used to being the one in charge. He was letting Abby have her way, at least for now. Eventually, his nature of taking charge, and his lack of patience, would come through. Blayne couldn’t wait for the fireworks when HC and Abby butted heads. Blayne stood and they walked to the dining room together. As they entered, Blayne realised they were almost the last to arrive. He said hello to the others at the table and Gibson filled him in on what he, Paxton, and Thomas were up to. Drake came in, saying howdy to everyone as he went to his seat next to Morgan’s. When Morgan entered, his gaze met Blayne’s. A small smirk curled his lips. Blayne’s lips throbbed as he remembered the feel and taste of him. Morgan sat, and Abby came in followed by HC. As they passed food around and talked, Blayne continued to glance at Morgan. Morgan didn’t look his way. Even as he chatted with Gibson and others, he was acutely aware of Morgan. When dinner was done, he went back to the office to get some work done. The sound of boots against the floor made him look up. Morgan strode past his office without a glance and into the office next door.
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Blayne glanced at the connecting door, then away. He tried focusing on work. Realising he couldn’t, he stood and went down the hall. As he passed Morgan’s office, he glanced in. Morgan’s head was bent over his desk as he wrote something. The office lights made his brown hair shine. Blayne left for his house. Later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts filled with Morgan. The next day, as he worked, his mind kept going back to their heated kiss. That night, he stood, he threw down his pen, and went to the window. He looked out at the dark yard beyond. The ranch was quiet this late at night. Almost everyone was already asleep, or getting ready for bed. Blayne glanced at the connecting door between Morgan’s office and his own. He strode over to it and opened it. Stepping through, he closed it behind him. Morgan looked up at him. He put down his pen, leant back, and raised an eyebrow. Blayne strode over, pulled his chair round so he faced him, and straddled him. “’Bout time.” Morgan grunted. “Ah, shut up,” Blayne said. Morgan leaned close to Blayne’s lips, almost touching them. “Make me.” His breath ghosted over Blayne’s lips. Blayne gripped the side of his face and kissed him. Hungrily. Morgan grunted and took over the kiss. Blayne withdrew and growled. “Uh-uh. My turn.” “Whatever you say, Prima.” Morgan smiled that smug grin that irritated Blayne. “Prima?” “Yeah. Prima Donna,” Morgan said. Blayne moved off his lap. Morgan reached for him but Blayne slapped at his hands. “You think of me as a Prima Donna? I’m not some fucking female.” He gritted his teeth as he walked away. Morgan grabbed him. Blayne turned and threw a punch but Morgan caught it, pulling his arm behind his back. Blayne jerked against Morgan’s hard grip. “Calm down. Christ, you have a temper.” Blayne stilled. “I do not have temper.” Morgan chuckled. “Really?” Blayne hissed. “If I do, it’s your fault. You bring it out in me.”
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“How ‘bout we use it for more pleasurable things?” Morgan said. “You really think we’re going to have sex? Now?” Blayne asked. “I know we are.” Morgan grinned that smug smile. He kissed Blayne thoroughly, then pulled away and ran his finger along the underside of Blayne’s jaw. “Come to my room.” It wasn’t a request—it was a demand. He strode out of the room. Blayne followed him. Morgan paused by the stairs leading upwards. When Blayne joined him, Morgan kissed him again. Then he grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs. As they passed the second floor, Blayne was grateful that Gibson wasn’t living in the house anymore. He had moved to one of the houses by the breeding area. They reached the landing and went down the hall to a set of double doors. Morgan opened them and pulled Blayne inside. He closed and locked the doors behind him. Blayne didn’t get to see much of the room as Morgan rushed him into the bedroom. He turned Blayne and pushed him until he flopped back on the king-size bed, glaring at Morgan. Morgan grinned, unrepentant. He leant down and kissed Blayne in hard, rapid motions while he unbuttoned his shirt. “Hey, slow down,” Blayne said. “You’re moving too slow,” Morgan growled. “We can do that next time.” “Wh—” His thoughts derailed as Morgan pinched his nipple. He whimpered and shifted his legs. “You like that, huh? Good to know.” Morgan made a pleased sound. He pushed Blayne’s shirt off his shoulder and pitched it off the side of the bed. In efficient movements, he unbuckled Blayne’s belt, unzipped his slacks, and pushed them and his boxers down. Blayne raised his hips, pausing to take off his shoes before pulling his slacks the rest of the way off and shedding the rest of his garments. Morgan flung the clothing away. He moved down Blayne’s chest, licking, sucking, and biting gently. Blayne’s body was in sensory overload. Morgan licked down from his navel to his groin. He scraped his teeth along the skin just below Blayne’s stomach. Blayne bucked, shuddering. Morgan covered the head of Blayne’s cock with his mouth. He sucked firmly and circled the slit with his tongue. Blayne moaned continuously as Morgan suckled the tip of his cock with wicked intent. “Shit…right there… Christ. Uh—”
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His voice trailed off as wet heat covered him, then Morgan took his cock fully into his mouth. Blayne thrust upwards. Morgan swallowed, taking Blayne’s thrust in, down his throat. Morgan swallowed again, then made a noise in his throat. It vibrated along Blayne’s erection. He slammed his eyes closed as he stiffened, the muscles in his thighs tight. Blayne jerked. Morgan held him down with hard hands. He swallowed again, then made the same sound. Blayne’s sacs drew up tight. Morgan touched his crease with his finger, scraped his nails along it. Blayne groaned and rocked his ass against the finger. It circled his pucker, then the touch went away. “Touch me. ” Blayne blearily opened his eyes, glancing down at Morgan. Morgan raised his gaze. His steely, blue-grey eyes were fierce and intent. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked him. Morgan swallowed. Blayne grabbed his head, pulling on his hair. Morgan grunted, increasing his suction. Blayne yelled as Morgan pushed a finger into him. A brief bite of pain, then pleasure filled him. Arching back, he pushed against the intrusion. Morgan’s scissored his fingers in and out of his crease, increasing his passion. Blayne moaned as they rubbed against the nerves. A sharp shaft of pleasure ran up his back and spread across his belly to his groin. His cock throbbed painfully. Morgan suckled hard, then rubbed firmly inside. Blayne’s cock went rock hard, then pulsed. He slammed his eyes closed, and Blayne bucked, curling forward and gripping Morgan’s hair. Morgan continued sucking his cum while he shuddered. Blayne whimpered at the stimulation of his now-sensitive member. Morgan gentled his suckling, then slowly raised himself off him. He swirled his tongue around the top of the flared head, then poked his tongue into his slit before releasing him. Blayne released his grip on Morgan’s hair, collapsing back against the bed, breathing hard. The bed dipped, then Blayne heard a rustle of clothing. The bed shifted again, then Morgan’s cool fingers along his pucker made him gasp, but he was too weakened to move. Morgan scissored his fingers in and out again, then held his thighs wider. A hot body pressed against him, then a wet, slick-sheathed blunt pressure pushed against his hole. In a firm thrust, Morgan pushed inside. Blayne gasped at the stretch, then moaned. Morgan made a slight rumbling sound. It vibrated against his chest. Morgan thrust, steady and precise. Then his cock rubbed unerringly against Blayne’s prostate. “Look at me.” Morgan’s voice was deeper, his tone insistent.
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Blayne opened his eyes. The possessiveness on Morgan’s face and in his eyes made his breath catch. A smile of pure wickedness curled Morgan’s lips as he increased his thrusting. Blayne gripped Morgan’s ass, raising his legs around his hips. Morgan lowered his head until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. “That’s it. Wanted to see the look in your eyes as I fuck you.” “Wanted you to take me while wearing your hat and boots,” Blayne whispered back.
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Chapter Three
Morgan’s grunt ghosted across his lips. He pulled back, almost out of him, then plunged forward hard. Blayne yelled, gripping him harder. Each thrust set off a storm of pleasure. His heart raced and his body shook. Morgan leant forward, closing the space between their lips. He kissed him like he owned him. It sent a thrill through Blayne. He returned the kiss, sucking on Morgan’s tongue. He set his teeth against the muscle, then made a dragging motion. Morgan vibrated against him. He settled more onto him, blanketing Blayne’s body with his large frame. Blayne squeezed his ass, pulling Morgan against him. Morgan rocked faster and faster inside him. Morgan pulled back from their kiss. The sounds of their harsh breathing echoed in the room. Blayne licked along his lips, then nibbled the bottom one. Morgan made a rumbling noise again. Blayne licked Morgan’s lip, then sucked in. He let it go with a popping sound. “Hold on tight,” Morgan said harshly. Blayne hitched his legs higher around Morgan’s hips, then Morgan thrust in rapid, deep strokes.
Morgan watched as Blayne’s eyes widened, then his lids lowered partially over his hazel-green eyes. He bit his lip, then shivered. Morgan smiled and continued his steady thrusts. “Let me hear you,” Morgan demanded. Blayne shook his head against the pillow. He tightened his hands painfully, gripping the sides of Morgan’s hips, digging his fingers into his ass. Morgan grunted and moved more slowly, shifting the angle. The hitch in Blayne’s breathing told him he had found the sensitive nerves he was going for. With intent, he continued thrusting against them. Blayne’s skin flushed. Passion etched his face. A thrill went through Morgan. The look showed what he wanted to see…to hear. “Give. Me. The. Sound.” He thrust harder after each word.
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Stubbornly, Blayne thrashed his head on the pillow, biting his lips. He raised his head and, leaning in, Morgan scraped his teeth along his Adam’s apple, biting down gently. Blayne bucked, almost unseating him. Blayne moved to lower his head but Morgan braced his elbows on either side of Blayne’s head, taking the end of his braid in one hand. He wrapped it around his fist, pulling his head back. Blayne struggled, trying to get free. Morgan leaned in against the pulse fluttering in his throat. “Give. It. To. Me.” He tugged Blayne’s braid, still thrusting after each word. Blayne glared at him defiantly. Morgan bared his teeth, then rolled his hips. Blayne bit his lip. Morgan leaned in to the hollow of his throat where his neck met his shoulder and bit down hard. Blayne bucked hard, moaning loudly. Morgan pistoned faster and faster inside Blayne’s gripping hole, following each thrust with a bite in the same place. Blayne’s voice rose in a cacophony of moans, groans, whimpers, and yells. He babbled his need. At each sound and word, Morgan thrust faster and faster, rocking them on the bed. Blayne stiffened, then let out an almost musical whimper. His hot semen pulsed against his belly. Morgan pushed down on the bed, then thrust—once, twice, then a last time. His roared as his cock hardened, then pulsed, releasing his pleasure. Sagging against Blayne, Morgan breathed harshly as his heart raced. After a few moments, he shifted. A feeling went through him as he pulled out of Blayne. He pushed it away, refusing to wonder what it was. Morgan rolled to the end of the bed and stood. He took a moment, then walked to the bathroom. He took care of the condom, grabbed a washcloth, then went back to the bed. Blayne was still sprawled where he’d left him. He had flung his arm over his eyes, and his chest rose and fell rapidly with his breath. A smirk curled his lip. Morgan leaned over and touched him. “Fuck. Give me a minute.” Blayne swatted his hand away. Morgan stifled a chuckle and cleaned him off. “Oh…that feels good. Thanks.” Blayne sounded a little hoarse. Morgan grunted and took the cloth back to the bathroom. He wiped himself off, then went back to bed. Sliding in next to Blayne, he shifted him until Blayne’s head lay against his chest. Blayne murmured something too low for him to hear. “What?” Blayne raised his head, his hazel-green eyes bright. Frowning, Morgan studied them. “What?” Blayne’s brow furrowed.
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“You have this faint star pattern in your eyes.” “I know. People are always trying to get in my face to see what’s wrong with them. It’s a pain in the ass.” Blayne wrinkled his nose. “It’s sexy,” Morgan said. Blayne gaped, then a wicked smile curled his lip. “Aw, you think my eyes are sexy.” Morgan narrowed his eyes, then swatted him on the ass. “Hush.” “If you want to paddle my ass, just say so.” Blayne almost sounded like he was purring. Morgan’s eyes widened, then he grinned. He squeezed Blayne’s butt, then jerked him up. Blayne moved up, their lips close. He kissed him, then pulled back. Morgan studied him, then frowned. “What’s wrong?” Blayne cocked his head to the side. “Your hair didn’t even come loose.” He touched Blayne’s still-contained hair. “It’ll take more than what we just did to release my hair.” Blayne chuckled. “Is that a challenge?” Morgan asked. “Not at all. You can try to get it loose—” He paused, shrugged, then continued. “But I’m sure you can’t.” Blayne smirked. “We’ll see about that.” Morgan rolled him over. “Sure, but it won’t happen.” Blayne laughed. “I’ll keep at it until it does,” Morgan promised. He kissed him. Blayne gripped his shoulders and moved against him. Morgan set out to get that braid unravelled.
“Blayne,” Morgan called. “Oh…fuck…no…give me some time,” Blayne growled. Morgan chuckled. “I’m just waking you to let you know I have to go do some work. I won’t be long.” “What time is it?” Blayne asked, his voice hoarse. “About 4am. It’s Sunday. Don’t get up. Sunday’s your day off. Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit. We still have to work on this.” Morgan touched Blayne’s still-braided hair. “Unless I take it out, it isn’t happening,” Blayne said. Morgan frowned. “What kind of braid is it? Does it have super glue on it or something?”
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“No. When I was a kid, my brothers liked messing with my hair, so my daddy taught me how to braid it so it wouldn’t come undone easily. To this day, no one can get it out unless I take it out.” Blayne laughed. “I will get it loose.” Morgan refused to give up. “Oh, God. You’re gonna kill me,” Blayne moaned. “Sex isn’t gonna kill you. You’ll just need some energy. We’ll keep you hydrated and fed.” Morgan chuckled and kissed him. “Sure, you say that now. But when it doesn’t come out and you keep trying, all that sex might just kill us both,” Blayne mumbled. Morgan laughed. He stood and walked to the door. “Morgan,” Blayne called. Morgan looked back. Blayne had that smirk and the look in his eyes he had come to realise meant trouble. “Hurry back. I want you to try a few more times before you admit defeat.” “Since I won’t, make sure you hydrate and eat.” Morgan snorted. “Stubborn cowboy. I’ll let you keep trying, and when I take pity on you, I’ll show you how to take it down,” Blayne said. “I won’t need you showing me, because I’ll succeed,” Morgan said as he went out of the bedroom door. “Stubborn cowboy!” Blayne yelled. “Damn right!” Morgan called as he walked through the sitting area and to the door leading to the hall. Blayne’s laughter followed him out of the door. Morgan smiled, closing the door behind him. Once outside he noted Zeus was already saddled and waiting in front of the barn. “Getting a late start, Boss,” Drake said. Morgan glared at Drake. Drake pushed back his hat and rocked back on his heels, a gleeful look on his face. “Let’s get to work,” Morgan said. “Sure, Boss,” Drake said. He got on Zeus and Drake on Hannibal. Then they were on their way. “How you feeling, Boss?” Drake asked.
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Morgan glanced at him. Drake had an innocent expression on his face that made him instantly suspicious. “Why do you want to know?” Drake shrugged, saying nothing. Morgan waited him out. After working for a bit, he and Drake took a break. Morgan drank some water and removed his hat, rubbing his hand through his sweaty hair. He donned his hat again, then leaned against the rail next to Drake. “Seems you have lots of pep, Boss Man,” Drake drawled. Morgan glanced at him. He had the same innocent look on his face. “Didn’t see Blayne this morning. You must have taken some of his pep.” Drake’s lips twitched, then he started to laugh. Morgan shoved against his shoulder. Drake shoved back. Then they stood with their elbows on the rail. “How’d you know?” Morgan asked, curious. Drake shrugged. “The way you been acting around him. The way he’s been eyeing you. It was only a matter of time.” “Really?” Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Yep. Besides, if you didn’t do something soon, you know you have some busybody folks on this ranch who would have figured out some way to get you all moving in the right direction.” Drake smiled, then slapped him on the shoulder. “Abby told you, huh? That damn woman,” Morgan growled. “She likes to be in the thick of things,” Drake frowned and pursed his lips. “That HC hasn’t been doing his job. She’s still cooking and doing all she has been. He’s got her all het up. Told ya he’d be trouble.” “Abby isn’t letting him. They’ll work it out,” Morgan said. “You should just let him go back where he came from,” Drake insisted. Morgan studied his foreman, then asked quietly, “What’s your issue with HC?” “I don’t have any problem with him. Just don’t like seeing him loafing about is all.” Drake’s face became shuttered. “Really?” Morgan asked. “Got work to do,” Drake said, walking off. Morgan grunted and went after him. They worked side by side.
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Later, after they’d finished for the day, Morgan entered the house, going quickly to his bedroom. Since he was sweaty, he planned to shower. He couldn’t wait to get Blayne in the shower. Pushing the door open, he frowned at the neatly made bed. He turned on his heel and headed back the way he had come, but Blayne wasn’t in his office, either. He turned and butted into someone. He gripped the person’s arms, then frowned. “Abby, why’re you sneaking around behind me?” “I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. You seemed intent on finding someone.” Abby’s tone was teasing. “Looking for Blayne,” Morgan said. “He left a while ago. I think he went home,” Abby said. Morgan nodded and turned to leave. “’Bout time you all stopped pussy-footing around,” Abby said behind him. Morgan stopped and turned back to face her. Abby was leaning against the wall outside Blayne’s office. “Why is everyone so interested?” “Anyone that can get you revved up the way Blayne does is good in my book. You needed shaking up. You were getting stagnant.” Abby crossed her arms over her chest. Morgan snorted. “Using such big words, Abby. My poor brain can’t take it.” “Hush, you. The know-nothing cowboy thing might fool Blayne and the new folks, but not us who know you.” Abby laughed. Morgan chuckled, then said seriously, “About the new folks. Why aren’t you letting HC cook in the kitchen?” “I let him cut things up for me.” She shrugged. “Abby.” His tone was warning. “Fine. I was having fun busting his chops.” She pouted. “I know, but he’s here to take some of the work off your plate. Work with him,” Morgan said. “Okay. I will,” Abby stated, straightening from the wall. “But I’m gonna do it in my time. Household things are my domain, not yours.” Abby put up her index finger, shaking it. “Now I’m going to enjoy the rest of my day off. If you and Blayne eat anything out of my kitchen, clean up after yourself.”
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She turned, going back towards the living room. “It’s my ranch.” “So?” Abby replied, continuing on her way. “I could fire you,” Morgan called. Abby made a rude noise. “You could try.” Morgan shook his head, chuckling. He went on his way. Striding across the yard, he returned the greetings of the men who were working. He went around the corner of the house and towards Blayne’s. The music filtering out the windows let Morgan know he was there. He knocked on the side door that led into the kitchen and waited. Within moments, the door opened. Blayne smiled. “Hey, you—” “Come on, Blayne. You’re holding things up. I want you.” It wasn’t Morgan who had spoken. An arm curled around Blayne’s shoulder, fingers splayed against his chest. HC came into view in the doorway. He was smiling. He looked at Morgan. He winked, then looked back at Blayne. “Don’t take too long. I don’t like waiting.” HC stepped back. He slapped Blayne on the butt. Blayne turned to him and shoved him. “Go. Wait for me in the other room.” Blayne pointed. A burning started in Morgan’s gut as HC laughed. He clenched his fists, then stepped back and walked away. “Hey, Morgan. Where’re you going?” Blayne called. Morgan gritted his teeth and kept walking. In rapid strides, he headed back to the main house. As he walked, he could still see the way HC had hugged Blayne like he was his. Even their banter was more that of lovers than friends. He thought about how they acted when they were around each other. His eyes narrowed. They acted a little too chummy and touched a little too much to be just friends, as he’d been told. Back in his room, he stripped down and went into the shower. Under the spray, he braced his hands on the wall while the watered flowed over his hair. Fucker was in my bed hours ago. Then runs to him. I don’t share. HC can have him. Morgan rubbed his hand through his hair, then over his face. Better to find this out now. He clenched his fists to still the shaking.
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Blayne frowned at Morgan’s retreating back. He stepped outside to go after him. “Blayne, where are you going?” a voice called. Blayne glanced after Morgan, then went back inside. “Nowhere, Paxton. Morgan came by, then just left.” He shook his head. “That man is aggravating.” Paxton didn’t reply. He picked up the tray of drinks and went back to the living room. Blayne picked up the bowl of popcorn and followed him. He set it on the table and took his seat on the floor. “Where’s lover boy?” HC asked from by his hip, where he lay on the floor. “He just left,” Blayne said, flopping down on his stomach. “Lover boy. I didn’t even realise Blayne had a lover boy. Who is he?” Blayne looked at Gibson, who had spoken. He was sprawled on the couch. “Your bro,” HC replied. “Morgan? You and Morgan?” Gibson sat up. Shock and confusion registered on his face, then he frowned. Gibson leant back in the chair. “Is that a problem?” Blayne asked. “Nah. That’s cool.” Gibson crossed his hand over his chest, watching the screen. Blayne exchanged glances with Thomas, HC and Paxton, then went to sit next to Gibson. He leaned next to him, mirroring his pose. The others were silent. They watched the movie for a bit. Blayne put his arm over Gibson’s shoulder. “Is it that he’s your brother, or that it’s me that’s the problem?” Blayne asked. Gibson jerked away from him. “Neither. And that is insulting to me.” He glared. “So what’s the prob?” “I love you both. And if this thing doesn’t work out, I’ll end up losing one of you,” Gibson replied. At the thought of anything ending, Blayne frowned. He rubbed his chest, then looked back at Gibson. “I can’t make any promises about what’s going to happen,” Blayne said. “I don’t expect you to. Just concerned is all.” Gibson frowned again, then went silent.
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Blayne leaned against the chair next to him. A hand patted his knee. He looked up at Paxton. “It’ll work out,” Paxton said quietly. Blayne hoped he was right. He listened absently as the others talked around him. He glanced towards the main house, visible though his front bay windows. He and Morgan had just started, and he didn’t even want to think about it ending. Remembering how Morgan had left so abruptly, he wondered why.
Days later, Blayne put his pen on his desk and rubbed his fingers down the bridge of his nose. He lay his head back against the chair and sighed. Gibson’s concern about him and Morgan was unfounded. It had been a one-off. The man had been distant and cold whenever they’d been in the same room. He had gone back to avoiding him. “That fucking programme you wrote just ate my files,” Morgan growled, coming into Blayne’s office. “There’s nothing wrong with my programme.” Blayne stood. “Then explain this.” Morgan walked to his desk and put his laptop down. Blayne went to it. Frowning, he typed rapidly. In moments, he glanced back at Morgan. “It isn’t the programme. It’s this relic you keep using. It doesn’t have the software and memory needed for it. I’ve already loaded the info on the new laptop. Use it.” “I want to use this one,” Morgan stated. Blayne leaned over and typed quickly. He closed the lid. “Too bad. You’re not getting it back. I sent what you were working on in email so you can continue with it on the new one.” “Give me my laptop,” Morgan said quietly. “It’s in your office,” Blayne said sweetly. “That one,” Morgan said, reaching for it. “No.” Blayne put it behind him. Morgan crowded him. Blayne hissed at the feel of Morgan’s body against his. Morgan stiffened. He stepped back abruptly, then walked away. “What the fuck was the other night?” “A mistake,” Morgan replied. “You bastard,” Blayne gritted out.
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“I don’t share.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Blayne frowned. “HC was all over you. Does he know you were fucking me the night before?” Morgan glanced at him, a nasty gin on his face. Blayne clenched his fists. Striding up to Morgan, he pushed him. Morgan grabbed his wrists. “Let. Me. Go,” he demanded. Morgan released him slowly. Blayne crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t like possessive assholes who don’t ask first instead of assuming.” “Excuse me?” Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “That’s right. Instead of asking me about HC, you assumed I was fucking him. Beside it being absurd, I wouldn’t. I stopped the whole ‘letting anyone screw me’ or ‘get any ass you can get’ thing a long time ago.” “HC had his hands all over you.” “So? He always does. So does Thomas. Christ, even Paxton. They’re my family,” Blayne said. “Being friends doesn’t make you family. Friends don’t touch how HC was touching you,” Morgan insisted. “I’m gonna explain things to you, since it seems as if Gibson didn’t tell you. So listen up. Are you listening?” Blayne asked. Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “HC and Thomas are my brothers.” Morgan gave him a look. “I see you don’t believe me. Well, too damn bad. They are. Daddy called us his own international troublemakers—HC, his Irish brawler; Thomas, the silent Brit; and me, his Brazilian instigator.” He smiled softly, remembering his daddy. Then he frowned at Morgan. “Daddy and Paxton adopted HC, Thomas and me when we were all sixteen.” “Paxton is your dad?” Morgan dropped his arms, eyes narrowed. “Yeah. And HC and Thomas are my brothers. “Blayne paused, then rubbed his fingers down the bridge of his nose again. “Christ. This sounds like a bad soap opera.” He laughed bitterly. “He’s not my lover. He’s my brother.” “Blayne, I—” Morgan said.
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Blayne raised his hand, cutting him off. “Get out,” he said quietly. Morgan stepped towards him, reaching for him. Blayne slapped his hands away. Then he pushed him. “Get the fuck out, you possessive fucking asshole!” Blayne roared. He pushed Morgan after each word. He backed Morgan out of the office door and slammed it in his face. Turning from the closed door, he cursed, then walked over to the couch. He flopped down and crossed his heels, stretching his legs out in front of him. Lacing his fingers over his stomach, he put his head back on the couch. “Stupid man.” He made a rude noise.
Morgan frowned at the closed office door. He reached for the handle. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Give him some time.” Morgan glanced up at HC as he stood in the hall close to the side door. “‘He’s not my lover. He’s my brother.’” HC intoned, then started to chuckle. “He’s right. Sounds like a bad soap opera.” HC went outside, still chuckling. Morgan looked at the office door again, then followed HC. He leant against the porch rail as HC watered the hanging plants and pots on the porch. When he was done, he joined Morgan, leaning next to him. “You sure seem to piss big bro off easily. I wonder if it’s your cologne or something that sets him off. ” He paused. “ Can I have some?” “Your brother has a nasty temper. I don’t wear cologne. Even if I did, why would you want some if you think it pisses him off?” Morgan frowned. “Usually, he’s the calmest one of us. I think it’s just something about you. Must be your body chemistry.” HC studied him, pursing his lips. “As for wanting to piss him off, it’s what I do. A little brother’s job,” HC replied. Morgan studied the big man. HC laughed. “Technically, we’re the same age, but when we go by birth dates, I happen to fall last. So, little bro, as Blayne and Thomas like to remind me often. So I live up to it and mess with them.” HC shrugged. “I don’t think you being the little brother has anything to do with it.” Morgan shook his head.
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HC agreed readily. “True. I like to shake things up. Keeps me entertained. I’m off to get dinner started.” He slapped Morgan on the shoulder. “Abby is letting you cook?” Morgan asked, surprised. “She doesn’t know yet. She’s in town running some errands.” “Abby isn’t someone to piss off, HC.” Morgan sighed. “She’ll get over it. She’s been having fun yanking my chain, but she’s not serious about it. She wouldn’t have let me help her in the kitchen if she was. When she gets back, she’ll raise some hell. I’ll raise some, then we’ll be good.” HC shrugged again. Morgan didn’t know about that. HC continued to speak, drawing his attention. “I can’t believe Gibson didn’t tell you we were brothers, or that Paxton is our dad. If I had realised that, I would have told you.” He paused, then studied Morgan. “Then again, watching you two is more entertaining than a soap opera.” HC walked towards the house, chuckling.
Morgan heard voices from inside. “Get out, HC!” Blayne roared. “No need to get testy, big bro,” HC said. “I’m going to kick your ass!” Blayne yelled. “Stop acting like a jerk. Come and cook with me. Abby’s gone. Come on,” HC said. “Fine. Hope we’re having meat. I need to pound something,” Blayne said. HC grinned as he passed Morgan, then went into the living room. Blayne followed him, glaring. Morgan stood and strode down the steps to his truck and drove. A little over half an hour later, he slammed the truck door and strode to the barn. “Where’s Gibson?” he asked one of the men he saw. “I think he’s outside by the right paddock,” he said. Morgan walked out of the barn and to the paddock. Reaching the rail, he watched the horse and rider in the ring. The man moved with the horse he rode with a kind of effortless grace. The powerful thoroughbred jumped the obstacle and touched down almost delicately. It raced around the ring, taking each obstacle the same way. Morgan stood in awe. He had seen videos of Ra competing, but it didn’t compare to the raw power he was seeing. Finished,
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they slowed, then walked around the ring and came over to the exit. Morgan went to unlatch the gate. “Thanks, Morgan,” Paxton said. He rode towards the barn, then dismounted. Morgan followed as he led the horse into its stall. He started to groom him. Morgan watched silently. “What’s on your mind?” Paxton asked. Morgan looked at him, surprised. Paxton chuckled. “You have the look my boys do when they need to talk.” Morgan kept watching him brushing the horse. Paxton didn’t say anything, just groomed. When Paxton was done, he put out feed, then closed the stall. He walked back to the open door and outside. Morgan followed. Paxton leaned against the fence, putting a boot up on the bottom rail. Morgan leaned next to him, watching him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re wondering how I’m the dad to three twenty-eight year olds,” Paxton said. “Am I that obvious?” Morgan asked. “Not really. I get asked that a lot. And HC called, mentioning you didn’t know. Gibson probably thought he’d told you.” He chuckled, then said, “That boy. When I met him, all he could talk about was his brother this and his brother that. My sons would then, in turn, brag about me or their daddy. It was as if we were superheroes to them. Or a hero and villain locked in an epic battle for who’s best. Like Batman and the Joker.” Morgan smiled. “So which one am I?” “Neither, since we’re just men. And like men, we all make mistakes. Think things we shouldn’t,” Paxton said. “HC told you a lot.” “We’re all close. And those boys watch each other’s backs, and mine.” He shrugged. “It’s the reason we moved here.” Morgan looked at him askance. Paxton looked off, not saying anything. Morgan thought he wouldn’t. From what he had seen of Paxton, he didn’t say much. When Paxton spoke, Morgan was startled. “When I lost Adam—their daddy—I took it hard. Adam and I had been together since I was twenty-four and he was twenty. Sort of grew together. We took in the boys eight years later. They were all piss and vinegar. Nasty tempers, too. Always fighting. HC liked to egg the others on. Blayne is hard to provoke, but will fight quicker than Thomas. Usually, they
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try not to piss Thomas off. He’s quiet, but when he blows, he makes the other two seem tame.” Paxton shrugged. “Took time for them to trust us. Once they did, we adopted them. ” His voice got soft. “Adam and I watched them grow to become men. Sent them to college, and they all did well. He died just before they graduated from college. Thirty-nine, and I was a widower with boys on the cusp of going into the work force. I bucked up and made sure the boys finished school. Then, they worked and became successful at what they do.” He was silent for a while, then spoke again. “It was difficult living without Adam. People said it would get better. It really hasn’t, but I’ve dealt with it. My boys, for almost five years after they left college, worked, but they weren’t living. When this opportunity came up, I knew it was what they needed. Moved here for the boys. Too many memories in California. They weren’t happy there after we lost Adam.” He glanced at Morgan. “Especially Blayne. He was doing all these great things, making a name for himself, but he wasn’t happy. Not like I’ve seen him with you,” Paxton said, then chuckled. “Despite how you seem to piss him off.” Paxton laughed and clapped Morgan on the shoulder. “I’m sure you can understand making choices for family, seeing as you lost your parents at eighteen and became a parent to a fourteen-year-old.” Morgan glanced at him, surprised. “Yeah. I know. We all do. Your brother talked about you a lot when he was in California. I wasn’t kidding about him seeing you as a hero.” Paxton patted his shoulder. “But, as I mentioned, you’re not a hero. Just a man. One who’ll make mistakes.” Paxton looked across the field. Morgan thought of something. “They don’t call you ‘Dad’.” “I’ll let you in on a secret not even they have figured out. They only call me ‘Dad’ in three instances.” He ticked them off on his fingers as he listed them. “When they’re in trouble, up to trouble, or need advice on something serious. It’s a good gauge to know something is up when they call me ‘Dad’.” Paxton laughed. “Gibson calls me ‘Big Brother’ for those reasons, too.” “Kids. Think they can get away with stuff.” They shared a chuckle. Morgan rested his elbows on the rail. “Now, I have to get back to work.” “Need some help?” Morgan asked.
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“Sure. Come on,” Paxton said. Morgan followed him to the barn and helped out. Later, he waved before turning his truck around and heading back to the ranch. Pulling up in front of Blayne’s house, he got out and walked to the door. The door opened as he reached it. “What do you want?” Blayne said, blocking the doorway. Morgan took off his hat, holding it between his fingers. “You’re probably on your way to dinner at the main house, but I have something I wanna say.” Blayne studied him. Morgan waited to see what he decided.
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Chapter Four
Blayne stepped back and walked away from the door. Morgan followed, closing the door behind him. He went into the living room. Blayne sat on the couch, staring at him. Morgan walked over to the window looking out on the main ranch house. “I don’t want to be late for dinner,” Blayne prompted. “Christ, you’re prickly,” Morgan said, turning to face him. Blayne stood, then barked out, “If all you’re going to do is insult me, you can leave.” Morgan walked over to him and reached for him. Blayne slapped his hands away. Determined, Morgan grabbed his hands and pulled him in to his body. Blayne held himself stiff. “Let go.” “No. Calm down and listen to me,” Morgan said. “You do—” “Hush,” Morgan said. “Don’t hush me,” Blayne growled. Morgan smiled. “You’re like a cactus—all prickly, but nice and succulent inside.” Blayne sighed. “Calling me a cactus is not the way to win me over.” Morgan’s grin widened. “So I can win you over, huh?” Blayne watched him through narrowed eyes. “That’s not what I said.” “We both have a temper. And I’m set in my ways. Like things my own way.” He shrugged. “I’m still not hearing an apology,” Blayne said. “Let me see your ears,” Morgan said, stifling a smile. “What? Why?” Blayne asked. “To check your hearing.” Blayne’s look was disbelieving. His lips twitched, and he started to laugh. Morgan rubbed his hands along Blayne’s back. “You don’t seem as angry as you were earlier,” Morgan said.
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“Spoke with HC and Thomas. They helped calm me down. Pointed out you couldn’t help being an asshole,” Blayne replied. Morgan frowned. Blayne grinned cheekily. Morgan leaned in. Blayne put his hand on his chest, stopping him. “You’re not going to apologise, are you?” “We really need to check that hearing.” Morgan touched Blayne’s ears. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, you stubborn cowboy.” Blayne covered his ears with his hands. Morgan grinned, then leaned in and kissed him. Blayne returned the kiss, then pulled away. “Let’s go,” Blayne said. Morgan sighed and walked back to the door. When he noticed Blayne wasn’t next to him, he glanced around. “Come and get it,” Blayne called. Morgan looked up and saw him standing in the centre of the staircase leading to the upper floor. Blayne swung his braid. Morgan went after him and Blayne laughed as he ran up the stairs. Morgan caught him on the landing, lifting him over his shoulder. “Hey!” Blayne cried. Morgan smacked him on the ass. Blayne growled, then a stinging blow hit Morgan’s butt. Morgan jerked at the slap and smacked Blayne’s ass again. “Behave,” Morgan warned. “You’re the one acting like a caveman, carting me off,” Blayne groused. Morgan entered the bedroom, strode to the bed, and put Blayne on his feet next to it. He pushed, and Blayne flopped down. The exasperated look on his face was cute. Morgan reached for his shirt but Blayne slapped his hands away and rolled off the other side of the bed. “Nope. This is my time, caveman. I’m in charge.” Blayne’s tone was daring. “Come on, then.” Morgan smiled and put his hands out, palms up. Blayne walked over to him. He ran his hands down Morgan’s chest, then unbuttoned his shirt. The brush of Blayne’s fingertips on his chest made him shiver. Blayne smirked, then leaned in to him. He inhaled deeply. “You smell so good. All manly and musky.”
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Morgan’s thoughts flashed to HC’s comment about something about his body chemistry irritating Blayne. The way Blayne was smelling his skin, that wasn’t a problem. He chuckled, debating whether he would tell HC. Blayne scraped his teeth against Morgan’s nipple, and he groaned, goose bumps breaking out all over his skin. Blayne made a pleased sound, then kissed up to his neck. Morgan shifted his head to give him access. Blayne licked and sucked at the base of Morgan’s neck. His fingers brushed Morgan’s stomach as he worked on his belt. In seconds, he had opened Morgan’s jeans and pushed them off his hips. Blayne stepped back, then pushed Morgan, who flopped back onto the bed. He gave Blayne a look. Blayne smirked, turned, and straddled him with his back to him. He bent, lifting Morgan’s left leg to take off his boot. Unable to resist, Morgan lifted his other bootclad foot and put it on Blayne’s ass, pushing him. Blayne stumbled forward, taking Morgan’s left boot with him. He turned and glared. Morgan smirked, then lifted his still-booted foot again. Blayne grabbed it and yanked. Morgan grunted as the boot came loose and he fell back on the bed. Blayne dragged off his jeans. Morgan moved back against the pillows, watching as Blayne quickly undressed. Blayne took out lube and condoms from the bedside table. He threw them onto bed next to Morgan and climbed onto the bed, straddling him. Morgan hissed as Blayne sat on his hardness. Blayne rubbed his cock against Morgan’s. The friction was intense against his raging erection. Blayne reached for the condom and lube and prepared Morgan. Blayne reached behind himself but Morgan stilled him, taking the lube from him and coating his fingers. He squeezed the slick coolness onto his fingers, then cupped the back of Blayne’s head with his other hand. He pulled him in, kissing him. Blayne’s gasp at the first push of Morgan’s fingers into his crease filled his mouth. Morgan readied him, too, swallowing each sound he made as he did. Blayne withdrew and braced his hands on Morgan’s chest. He rose up. Morgan held his cock, and Blayne sank down onto him slowly. Morgan placed his hands on Blayne’s hips. Blayne’s breath hitched the second Morgan popped inside his wet heat. He squeezed, and Morgan shuddered. Blayne dug his nails into Morgan’s chest, making him gasp. Blayne rocked back and forth in a slow, steady motion. Morgan gritted his teeth and tugged at him but Blayne kept up the steady pace that was driving Morgan out of his mind. “Slowly…just…like…that…yes…this…is…my…turn…not…yours.” Blayne gasped.
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Morgan slapped him on the ass. Blayne pushed back against his hand, undulating. Morgan smiled, then did it again. Blayne whimpered. Morgan slapped his butt again, then squeezed it. “Again,” Blayne demanded. He did it again. Blayne moaned and rocked back and forth. Morgan spanked him in time with his movements. Blayne moaned and groaned. Morgan grunted as Blayne clenched around him. He faltered in his slaps as his cock throbbed. Blayne increased the speed of his movements. Morgan groaned, closing his eyes, and his head rolled back. “Look. At. Me.” He opened his eyes at Blayne’s demand. At the fierce, intent look in his eyes, Morgan shuddered. Blayne’s eyes narrowed. He rocked forward, undulated, then squeezed. The sensation on his cock sent Morgan over the edge. He yelled, bucking. Blayne leant down, wrapping his hands just below the head of his cock. He tugged, then shuddered, and his hot cum spread over their stomachs. Morgan slumped back on the bed, closing his eyes. Blayne murmured softly, the words too soft for Morgan to make out. After some time, Blayne groaned and rolled off him. A brief while later, Morgan jumped at the feel of a cool cloth against his groin. Blearily, he glanced at Blayne. Blayne finished cleaning Morgan off, then himself, before throwing the cloth onto the bedside table. He lay next to Morgan, putting his head on his chest. Pulling up the covers, Morgan kissed the top of Blayne’s head. “Missing dinner is your fault,” Blayne mumbled. “How is it my fault?” Blayne shifted his head against Morgan’s chest until he could meet his gaze. “For looking so hot with your hat in hand, with that sorry look on your face.” “I did no such thing,” Morgan growled. “Yeah, you did. But that’s okay. It was sexy.” Blayne raised his head, kissing Morgan quickly on the lips, then leaning his head back on his chest. Morgan rubbed his finger down Blayne’s shoulder, then smoothed his hair. “We still need to work on getting this braid loose.” “Give it up already.” Blayne sounded exasperated. “Can’t do that,” Morgan replied. “Won’t do that,” Blayne groused.
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“That, too. And I plan to work very hard at my task.” Morgan flipped him onto his back. “Ah, shit. I was thinking you could make me some dinner. You can’t be ready again.” Blayne squirmed. “You’ll make us dinner later. As for ready, so are you.” Morgan shifted, rubbing their cocks against each other. “Well, if I must put up with this, then go ahead.” He sounded like it was a hardship, but the wicked grin on his face said differently. Blayne widened his legs and moaned. Morgan chuckled and kissed him.
**** Walking to the main house, Blayne glanced over at Morgan walking beside him. Morgan was looking at the barn and the men working. The sun behind him shaded his face under the brim of his Stetson. Morgan turned, the steely, blue-grey of his eyes playful. He stopped and cupped Blayne’s cheek, kissing him. Blayne stiffened, shocked, then relaxed. The sounds of the bustling yard faded as all he could hear was the sound of his racing heart. Morgan withdrew and ran his fingers along the bottom of Blayne’s jaw. Blayne’s hearing came back, and the sounds of men hollering reached him. Barking made him look down. Dwayne wagged his tail, then ran around with the other ranch dogs. Blayne glanced around and saw the men were watching them, hooting and hollering. He stared at Morgan, confused. Morgan had a small smile on his lips. “Back to work boys. Show’s over,” Drake’s voice rang out. Blayne glanced towards him. Drake touched the brim of his hat, then walked over to the other men. “What was that all about?” Blayne asked. “Mine,” Morgan said. He put his hand around Blayne’s waist and led him to the steps of the main house. “Wha—” Morgan kissed him, cutting him off. He stepped back and touched the brim of his hat. Then he walked away in loose, long strides. The flex of his back and ass enthralled Blayne.
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“Such a display. I don’t think I’m old enough to have seen such things,” a teasing voice said. “Ditto,” another one replied. “I didn’t know Morgan had it in him.” Blayne looked back at the men standing on the porch. Gibson, who had spoken last, had a bemused grin on his face. “It’s really too early in the day for that sort of thing,” HC said, drawing his attention. “Yeah,” Thomas said. Blayne walked up the steps, rolled his eyes at his brothers and shoved them playfully. “HC, you are the last one to talk about displays.” He pointed at Thomas. “And you should know better than to egg him on.” Thomas smirked and shrugged. Blayne pushed past them, going to the side door. He ignored them as they followed him. “Wait until Paxton hears about this,” HC said. Reaching his office, Blayne went to his desk. The others came in uninvited and sat. Dwayne went to what had become his usual spot, close to the right side of Blayne’s chair. “Don’t you all have work to do?” Blayne sat, turning on his computer. “This is more entertaining,” HC replied. Thomas and Gibson chuckled, nodding. He ignored them and got to work while they talked. Eventually they left, one by one. Blayne worked on, barely stopping for lunch. At dinner, he sat in his usual seat next to Gibson. Morgan ate, talking with Drake. When dinner was done, Blayne went back to the office. He sat, reaching to turn on his computer. “You’re done for the night. Come on,” Morgan said from the doorway. Blayne glanced at him. He was leaning against the doorframe holding his hat in his hands. He shifted the hat in his fingers, smoothing them along the edge of the brim. Morgan turned and walked out and Blayne followed, surprised when he went towards the door to exit. Outside, they descended the stairs. Morgan walked not towards Blayne’s house, as he had expected, but towards the barn. Blayne strolled beside him, and Dwayne trotted along at their side. “How was your day?” Morgan asked. Blayne frowned at his question. Morgan glanced at him, the expression on his face seemingly interested, so Blayne answered. They talked as they walked, about their days and
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other random things. Before Blayne realised it, they had circled the area surrounding the main house and were back at the base of the steps. Morgan took Blayne’s hand and led him back up the steps and inside. In Morgan’s bedroom, they undressed and went to the shower. Morgan washed him gently, kissing him. He pushed him up against the wall. They rubbed against each other under the slick spray. Blayne held Morgan’s shoulders as he moved against him. Moaning, he wrapped one leg around his hip. Morgan’s fingers bit into his ass. Moaning, he came. Morgan shuddered and joined him. He kissed him gently and moved back. Morgan held him as he got the strength back in his legs, drying him off and removing the shower cap protecting his hair. Morgan smoothed his fingers along the braid as Blayne reached for the towel and dried Morgan. When they were both dry, Morgan grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. Blayne climbed into the bed and Morgan joined him, spooning behind him. He touched Morgan’s hard arm where it rested around his waist. “’Night,” Morgan murmured. “’Night,” he murmured back, slipping into slumber.
**** “Can I take you to dinner?” Blayne raised his head at Morgan’s quite serious voice. The look on his face matched it. Blayne sat back in his office chair. Morgan was standing in front of his desk, holding his hat in hands and moving it, as he did, between his fingers. Blayne had come to realise he did that when he was nervous. Each night since their first walk around the ranch, Morgan had come to the office sometime after dinner, with his hat in his hand, and said Blayne was done for the night. Then they took a walk around. They talked while walking. It had become a familiar ritual. “As in a date?” Blayne asked. Morgan nodded abruptly. Confusion and pleasure filled him. Morgan continued moving his hat between his fingers, his face serious. It was sexy and endearing. “Sure,” Blayne replied.
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“Good. Be ready at six.” Morgan slapped his hat against the side of his leg, then turned and walked away. Frowning, Blayne glanced at the clock. It was five. He shut down his computer and strode to the door with Dwayne at his heels. Heading down the hall, he passed HC. “Where’re you going? Dinner is in an hour.” He reached the door, looked back at HC and grinned. “Morgan and I won’t be at dinner.” “Shit. Y’all are going to hurt each other,” HC griped. “It’s not that. We’re going on a date.” Blayne smirked. HC blinked, then hooted. “Oh, yeah. Let’s get you ready.” “I don’t need help. And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t ask you. You hate dressing up,” Blayne said, going out of the door. HC’s footsteps came behind him. Dwayne barked and walked with him. The sound of doors closing made Blayne glance up and he stifled a groan when he saw who it was. Hurrying, he headed towards the side of the house. “Where’s he going so fast?” Gibson asked. “He and Lover Boy have a date,” HC replied. “You really need to stop calling him that,” Gibson warned. “Lover Boy,” HC said in a sing-song voice. Blayne heard a grunt. As he reached the door he glanced back and saw Gibson grappling with HC. HC got him in a headlock and grinned. Thomas shook his head and strolled towards him. HC walked, dragging Gibson with him in a headlock. Blayne turned and sped up, running towards his house. The sound of running footsteps reached him, and someone went past him in a blur. Running up the steps, he growled at Thomas, leaning panting beside the front door. Thomas studied his nails, a wide grin on his face. “Why don’t you go to the main house?” “I’m good here,” Thomas replied. “We have to get you ready for your date,” HC said, strolling up the steps behind him. “Yeah,” Gibson grunted and pushed HC. “Don’t make me headlock you again,” HC warned.
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Knowing it would be quicker to just go along with it, he opened the door and went inside. They followed him to his bedroom making suggestions about what he should wear. Ignoring them, Blayne went to take a shower. When he returned to his room in his underwear, Thomas, HC and Gibson were sprawled on his bed. “Here, wear this,” HC said, gesturing. Blayne walked over to the chair. Grudgingly, he admitted the clothes they had picked out were the ones he would have chosen. “Thanks, Thomas,” Blayne said. He knew it was Thomas who had picked out his clothing. “Hey, I helped,” HC said. “If you had your way, he’d be in a T-shirt and holey jeans,” Gibson said dryly. “He looks good in them,” HC defended. “Yes, but not for their first official date,” Gibson said. “Please. They’re fucking already, so what does it matter?” HC asked. A slap rang out, then Gibson said, “It just does, you Neanderthal.” “Ow,” HC said dryly, then taunted, “It must be a southern thing.” “It’s called being a gentleman,” Gibson stated stiffly. “Southern thing.” HC laughed. “It’s called manners. Something you don’t know anything about,” Gibson said snottily. “True.” HC chuckled. Gibson and Thomas joined him. Blayne dressed quickly in the hunter green button-down shirt and black slacks. “Here,” Gibson said. Blayne took the shining shoes he held out. Turning, Blayne put his hands out. “Okay. Will I do?” They nodded. “Now you all can get the hell out.” “Sure,” HC replied. Blayne frowned as they left the room. That had been easy. He shrugged and finished getting ready. He still had fifteen minutes left when he headed downstairs. Hearing a noise, he went into the living room. “Make yourselves at home,” he said sarcastically.
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“Already did,” HC said, raising his beer. Gibson and Thomas did, too. The men went back to lounging on the chairs and floor around the room, watching the television. Sighing, Blayne sat next to Gibson on the couch. He kept glancing at the clock. The doorbell rang at exactly six o’ clock and he jumped up. Gibson pulled him back down. “Uh-uh. Let HC get the door. Morgan has to come to you.” “You all are crazy.” Blayne glared. “Yep,” Thomas said. HC chuckled as he left the room. Blayne heard the door opening and HC whistled. “I should have known you yahoos were over here,” Morgan said. He entered the living room. Blayne’s mouth dropped open. He was so accustomed to seeing him in jeans and a chambray shirt. Now, a charcoal grey jacket covered a pearlsnapped, pale grey shirt tucked into black jeans. The buckle on his belt was silver, and his cowboy boots were shined. His hat wasn’t the black one he usually wore. Instead, he held a dark grey Stetson with a pale grey cord in his hand. Blayne walked over to him. Morgan pulled him close with one arm. He kissed the top of his head, then looked over it. “You too, little bro?” “This was too good to miss,” Gibson replied. “Let’s go,” Morgan said. He led Blayne out. The others followed them to the door. Morgan petted Dwayne and opened the door. “Now have him home at a decent hour,” HC called. “And no funny business.” Gibson sound amused. Blayne slapped at them. They dodged. “Ignore them,” Blayne said. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.” Thomas laughed. Blayne glanced back as Morgan led him to the steps. “Shush.” Thomas, Gibson, and HC laughed.
On the road to town, Blayne asked the question that had been bugging him. “I sort of get kissing me in front of the men, since they work for you and probably know about you. But a date into town?”
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“People know ‘bout me.” Blayne frowned. “So is Prentiss, Texas, some sort of gay Mecca?” Morgan laughed. “Not by any stretch. But most folks believe in live and let live. The community is mostly geared around ranching. Ranching is a fickle and hard thing. Your neighbours are who you depend on, and they depend on you. We help each other out. Who you sleep with don’t matter to most folks here.” He paused. “We do have some folks who are intolerant, but I pay them no mind.” Blayne mulled that over. Morgan took his hand off the wheel and took Blayne’s, placing it on his leg. He put his own hand back on the wheel and continued driving. When they arrived and went into the restaurant, Blayne observed the greetings Morgan got. People seemed to respect him, and he seemed well-liked. Morgan kept his hand at the small of Blayne’s back as he introduced him and talked to people. They took their seats and looked over the menu, making their selections. “Morgan,” said gravelly voice. “Warwick.” Morgan stood. Blayne studied the tall, big man. He made HC seem small. He wondered if he was the Warwick the restaurant was named after. “Warwick Benson, this is Blayne Dalton. Warwick owns this place,” Morgan said. Blayne stood and shook. Warwick shook his hand, then slapped Morgan on the back. “This is the computer guru you can’t say enough about,” Warwick said. At that statement, Blayne looked at Morgan. Morgan shrugged and sat. “Morgan won’t say it, but I’m one of his best friends.” “More like a pain in my ass,” Morgan said. “Keeps you from being so stuffy.” Warwick laughed. A waiter came over and said something to him sotto voce. “Gotta go,” Warwick said. “Nice to meet you, Blayne. Morgan, I’ll be out to see you soon.” Warwick walked away. A waiter came and gave them their food. After they had started to eat, Blayne spoke. “You’ve mentioned me to your friend?” Morgan shrugged. Blayne rolled his eyes. He was very tight-lipped.
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After a delicious dinner, they left. Morgan drove, not back towards the ranch, but only a little way from Warwick’s. He pulled into a parking lot filled with trucks and cars. The sign read Bailey’s. Music filled the parking area. Blayne stared as men walked, holding hands, towards the door. Morgan got out, closed his door, and went to Blayne’s. He opened it, putting out his hand. Blayne took it. Morgan led him to the door and inside, where the sound of country music was louder. The sights and sounds of men laughing, dancing, and talking reached them. Morgan guided Blayne, with a hand on the small of his back, to the bar. A man with short, blue-tipped, spiky black hair behind the bar saw them and made a gesture that he was coming. As he got closer, Blayne noticed a slight limp. When he looked up, the man was smiling. A scar marred one cheek, curling down below his jaw and down his neck. He leant forward over the bar. Morgan reached out, clasping his hand. “Morgan,” said a really deep voice. The spiky-haired man looked at Blayne. “You must be Blayne. I’m Nick.” He studied Blayne with dark brown eyes, then smiled and put out his hand. Blayne shook it. The man pulled him close. “Morgan always had good taste.” He winked. “Bailey,” Morgan growled. Morgan pulled Blayne back close to his side. Blayne chuckled. From what Morgan had said, he knew Nick was another of Morgan’s friends. Nick winked again and went back to work. Morgan steered Blayne to the dance floor. He held Blayne close and started to move. Blayne stifled a moan at his graceful movements. In seconds, he was rock hard. “Later, we’ll work on getting that braid loose,” Morgan whispered in his ear. “You’ve gotta give up this braid thing,” Blayne said. “Nah. I’ll get it soon. And until then, we’ll keep working and working to get it loose,” Morgan said. “I do re-braid it on a daily basis, you know,” Blayne pointed out. “It’s not the same,” Morgan stated. Blayne laughed. Morgan continued to move with him.
****
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“Blayne, a delivery man dropped this off,” Morgan said, carrying in two boxes. Blayne stood, walking over to him as he placed them on the table in front of the couch. Eagerly, he opened them. Taking out all the pieces, he crowed. “Don’t you already have a laptop?” Morgan asked. “Needed a new one,” he said. “Uh-huh. It’s your gadget thing,” Morgan said. “So?” Blayne opened his new laptop. “An iPad, too,” Morgan said. He sat down, reaching for it. Blayne snatched it up before he could touch it. Morgan put his hand up and made a ‘whoa’ gesture. “I’m a little possessive when I get a new gadget.” Blayne grinned sheepishly. “Okay.” Morgan’s lips twitched. “What are you doing here this time of day, anyway?” Blayne asked, fiddling with his laptop and keeping the iPad on his lap. “Coming to get you. The computer in the barn is acting up,” Morgan told him. “What? The system is brand new. What did you all do?” Blayne raised his head. “Don’t know.” Morgan shrugged, an innocent look on his face. Blayne didn’t believe it. He stood, picking up his laptop and iPad. He put them on his desk and he got his tool bag. “Come on. Let’s go. Show me what y’all did,” Blayne said. Morgan stood, leading the way out. When they reached the yard, he stopped. “You go ahead. I need to check something first.” “Meet me there.” Blayne frowned at him. “I will.” Blayne went into the barn and over to the computer. He checked it over and couldn’t find anything wrong. Frowning, he went back to the house, wondering where Morgan had gone. He rattled the knob of his office door, and found he was unable to open it. It was locked. He never locked it. Cursing, he walked over to Morgan’s closed office door. He knocked, and, when he got no answer, he walked in, closing the door behind him. He glanced around Morgan’s office, noting the files he had on his desk. Striding to the
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connecting door, he tried it and was glad to find it was unlocked. Opening it, Blayne stepped through, glanced up, and stopped.
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Chapter Five
Shocked, he blinked, sure what he was seeing was his overactive imagination. On unsteady legs, he walked over and stood gaping at the sexy sight before him. Morgan shifted, spreading his legs. His naked body seemed to glisten. The heel of his boot made a click as he placed a foot down on the hardwood floor. He raised the other leg, putting it along the back of the couch. His erection stood straight up from his body. He pushed his hat back with one finger, tipping it back on his head. “Ride a cowboy.” Morgan’s expression was downright wicked. Blayne gaped. “I was imagining you riding me.” “I’m all ready for you, but if you don’t wa—” He rushed to the couch and leaned over Morgan, kissing him, cutting him off. Morgan grunted and wrapped his arms around him. Blayne kissed him hungrily, then stood. He stepped back and stripped off his clothes. With a wicked smile of his own, he reached for his hair. “No. I want to loosen it,” Morgan griped. “Hush, you. This is mine. You’ll have more than enough time to work at doing it,” Blayne chastised him. He released his hair. Blayne knelt between Morgan’s spread legs. Morgan handed him a condom and he put it on. He smoothed his hands along the flat plane of Morgan’s stomach, making him shiver. Blayne dug his nails in, gently dragging them down around Morgan’s groin. Morgan made a grumbling sound. Blayne chuckled and kissed the tip of his dick. It bobbed. He suckled it gently. Morgan’s hand gripped his hair. He pulled him back. “Fuck me. Now,” he demanded. “Impatience,” Blayne said. Morgan gripped his head and pulled him up. Kissing him, he licked Blayne’s lips before nipping the bottom one. “Now.” “Have to get you ready first,” Blayne said.
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“No need. Just get to it,” Morgan said. “You’re so romantic,” Blayne said. “I’ve got it like that.” Morgan winked. Blayne laughed and ran his hand down to Morgan’s crease. He laughed when he touched him. “I see what you meant about being ready. You’re all stretched for me,” Blayne said. “Yeah. So can we do this?” Morgan asked. “What’s your rush?” Blayne asked. Morgan’s skin was flushed and he was moving impatiently. “Come on.” He reached into the pile of stuff on the table for some lube. As his fingers brushed a towel, he felt something hard. Pushing the towel aside, Blayne moaned when he saw what was there. He picked it up and turned back to Morgan. “You got yourself hot and bothered with this,” Blayne said. He held up a flesh-coloured dildo. Morgan reached down, stroking his dick. Blayne watched his firm hand, captivated by him handling his cock. Blayne covered his hand and pulled in time with him. Morgan groaned and shifted. Blayne took the dildo, rubbing it along his hole and Morgan shifted and pushed against it. Blayne pushed, and it went in. Morgan arched back, riding the dildo as Blayne held it, working it in and out of his body. “Yes…right there…come…on…harder.” Morgan’s breath hitched, and the flush on his cheeks darkened. Blayne pulled out the dildo and threw it on the floor. He shifted, pressing his erection against Morgan’s crease. Pushing forward, he impaled Morgan in a hard thrust. Morgan put his hand behind his head, arching back. Blayne thrust back and forth, pounding into him harder and harder. “Fuck me. Harder. Like that.” Morgan demanded. Blayne leaned in to kiss him. He bumped his hat. Shifting his head sideways, he kissed Morgan fiercely. Morgan grunted in time with Blayne’s thrusts. They moaned and groaned loudly. “I want to feel you bare. Let’s get tested,” Morgan whispered against his lips. Blayne grunted and increased his thrusts. Morgan clamped down on his dick. The pressure sent him over the edge. Losing his rhythm, he stroked in and out. Morgan moaned
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and jerked his cock. Blayne covered Morgan’s hand and tugged hard, rubbing his finger over the head. He pressed down firmly in the slit. Slickness coated his finger, then Morgan’s cock jerked and his cum coated their hands. Morgan shuddered, and Blayne continued to move his hips back and forth. He collapsed against Morgan’s chest, breathing harshly. Morgan’s arms held him as he shifted, moaning. Blayne settled against his chest. Morgan sighed, then his fingers tangled in Blayne’s hair. He tugged and Blayne raised his head. Morgan kissed him fiercely, then pulled back. “’Bout time you got around to it.” There was a sated yet smug expression on Morgan’s face. “If you wanted me to fuck you before this, all you had to do was ask.” “You haven’t been listening. Are you sure nothing is wrong with your hearing?” “You and this hearing thing again. Articulate your words, cowboy. Speak plainly,” Blayne said. “I do. You just don’t understand it. You need to learn to speak cowboy.” Morgan pursed his lips and leant back, closing his eyes. Blayne made a rude noise. He yawned, then settled against him. Morgan stroked his head. It was the last thing he felt as he went to sleep.
**** “Here.” Blayne instinctively put down the knife he held, then glanced up, automatically taking what Morgan handed him. It took a moment for him to register what it was. “A cat.” A soft meow sounded from the ball of fur he held. He lifted the kitten. It meowed again, then purred. “A tabby,” Morgan said. Blayne glanced at him, confused. “You mentioned you like cats.” Morgan shrugged.
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Blayne tried to remember when that had been. Remembering the tongue bath Dwayne had given him, he smiled. He looked down at Dwayne, who was lying by his feet next to the island where he was making his sandwich. He looked back at Morgan. “Seeing as your dog seems to have decided to claim me, I guess it doesn’t matter,” Blayne said. He ran his finger down the kitten’s head. “But thanks. Why a tabby?” Morgan chuckled. “Not going to say. It’ll only piss you off.” Blayne narrowed his eyes, looking at him. “Smart man.” Morgan shrugged. “I’m learning. And, oh, yeah.” He walked back out of the kitchen. The sound of the door was followed by the scrabble of nails on hardwood. A ball of fur flew at him. He knelt. The white-blond puppy wagged its tail, licking him. “Oh, you’re a precious thing,” he crooned, petting it. He looked up at Morgan. “You got a new dog. It doesn’t look like a ranch dog.” “Didn’t get a dog,” Morgan said, turning to leave. Blayne stood. “Whose dog is it?” Morgan looked back from the kitchen doorway, a smirk on his face. “Yours.” He walked out. Frowning, Blayne followed him, carrying the kitten. The puppy followed him. “You got me a puppy and a kitten?” Blayne asked in disbelief. “You’re a cat person, but dogs like you, too.” Morgan chuckled, then glared at him. “Maybe now I can have my dog back.” “It’s not my fault Dwayne likes me more than he does you,” Blayne said cheekily. “Keep telling yourself that.” Morgan looked exasperated. Blayne chuckled, then looked at the puppy. Dwayne was sniffing around it. The puppy batted at him. “What breed is it?” “She’s a Borzoi. They’re both female,” Morgan said, reaching for the door and opening it. “What should I name them?” Blayne asked. “How about Prima and Donna?” Morgan grinned wickedly and closed the door. Blayne sighed, then knelt. The puppy crawled into his lap. He put the kitten next to it. He looked at his animal companions and said, “Your daddy thinks he’s funny.”
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Blayne stilled as he realised what he had said. Frowning, he put the puppy and kitten on the floor. Dwayne barked, and they started to play together. He went back to the kitchen. He put away the sandwich he had been making. Glancing at the time, he grabbed his keys and gathered up the animals. In moments, they were in his SUV and on their way. A while later, he pulled up in front of the house and got out. Taking the animals with him, he went to the side door to the kitchen. He knocked, then went in, putting the kitten and puppy on the floor. “Paxton!” he called. Paxton came into the kitchen and stopped, staring at the animals. He got down and petted them. Then he looked up at Blayne. “Morgan gave them to me,” Blayne said. Paxton chuckled. “Okay. Have you eaten?” He shook his head. “Have a seat and I’ll get you something,” Paxton said. He sat at the island. Paxton went around the kitchen making him something to eat. Blayne watched the animals playing, then looked back at Paxton, who put a sandwich and a drink in front of him. Blayne opened the can and took a sip. Paxton took his own food and sat across from Blayne. He ate in silence. “Dad?” Blayne said. Paxton put down his sandwich, “What’s wrong, son?” “I don’t know.” He paused, picking at the place mat under his sandwich. “Morgan is acting weird ever since our fight. He kissed me in the yard in front of everyone.” He shifted, remembering to whom he was speaking. Paxton laughed, patting his hand. “I heard about that. HC, Thomas, and Gibson all gave me their versions. Heck, even some of the men, too. It was quite the talk, since Morgan is usually so reserved.” “I know. I don’t know what’s going on. He took me to dinner in town. And even though he didn’t say it, he took me to meet his friends. He acted like it was nothing.” He frowned. “We even take walks at night after dinner. I don’t get what he’s up to.” “Sound like he’s courting you,” Paxton said. “Courting? That can’t be it.” Blayne stood and started to pace. “It’s a southern thing.” Paxton laughed.
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“What the hell does that mean?” Blayne asked, waving his hand. “It was the same thing your daddy did when he decided he wanted me. Doing special things. Taking time and such. When he was ready to marry me, he asked me. Then, he even went and asked your granddad for my hand. I teased him about it being such a southern thing. He just nodded his head and said it was a gentlemanly thing. And I was his one and only, so he had to do it right.” Paxton smiled sadly. Blayne walked over and leaned against Paxton. Paxton hugged his waist, then patted Blayne’s back. “How does him courting you make you feel?” Blayne thought about it a bit, then made a rude noise. “It’s weirding me out.” “That’s the same thing I told your daddy when I figured out that’s what he was doing.” Paxton hooted. “Did it make him stop?” Blayne asked. “Nope. He just went about it.” “Hmmm… Maybe I need to court him, too.” Blayne tapped his finger on his lip, smirking. “Didn’t y’all go for a ride and a picnic at the lake that’s on the property? And didn’t you invite him to join us for the weekly family movie night?” Blayne nodded. “Seems to me you’re already courting him.” Paxton smacked him on the shoulder. “The ride and picnic was to get him to relax. He’s been acting like an ornery cuss. The new calves and bulls coming has him on edge. Afterwards, all the men thanked me for making him chill out.” Blayne grinned wryly, then shrugged. “I wanted him at the weekly family movie night.” “Still sounds like courting.” Paxton laughed. “I’m still weirded out,” Blayne said. “You’ll get over it,” Paxton said and went back to eating his sandwich. Blayne ate, then left. Back in his office, he found places for the animals to lie down. He made a mental note that he would need to go and get them some things. He glanced out of the window. Morgan strode across the yard and embraced a tall, broad-shouldered man. Blayne frowned, wondering who he was. Morgan slapped the man on the shoulder, and they got
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into a silver Lexus and drove away. From the direction, he assumed they were heading to Gibson’s. Blayne turned away from the window and got to work. Stiff, he stretched and winced. He had been sitting in his chair for too long. Glancing at the time, he noticed it was almost six. He got up and closed his computer down. The animals were curled up asleep together. He went out of the door and down the hall, turning into the living room. He skirted the chairs, then went into the hall. He stopped. HC and Thomas were whispering furiously by the front door. “What’s up?” He walked over. “He’s fucking flirting with Dad.” Thomas looked at him. His face was rigid with anger. “Who?” Blayne eyed him cautiously. “That man Morgan brought over to check out the breeding programme,” Thomas gritted out. “Win somebody,” HC said, sounding cheerful. “He is?” Blayne narrowed his eyes. “What did Dad do?” “He didn’t even notice. You know he never does,” Thomas said. “So why are you so mad?” Blayne asked. “Morgan invited him to dinner. You see how he acts, then you tell me,” Thomas growled and strode away. Blayne frowned after him. “I don’t see what the problem is. Dad is still a handsome man. Men will check him out,” HC said. Blayne glared at him, then went after Thomas. The others were already seated. Blayne frowned at the man sitting in his usual seat between Paxton and Gibson. “Come sit next to me,” Morgan said behind him. He touched the small of Blayne’s back, guiding him to the chair. Morgan pulled the chair out and Blayne frowned at him, then opened his mouth to tell him not to do that. “Paxton, tell me about your horses,” a modulated voice said. The tone of it made Blayne turn. The man’s silky, raven-black hair rested over his shoulder, reaching down his chest and disappearing under the table. He flicked it over his shoulder with lean, blunt fingers. His reddish-brown skin over sharp cheekbones and rugged features made Blayne think of him as a warrior. The look in his dark brown gaze as he
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watched Paxton matched the tone. It was possessive. Blayne met Thomas’ gaze. Thomas nodded once, abruptly. He looked at HC and there was a grim look on his face. “Win, this is Blayne,” Morgan said. “Hey, Blayne. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Windsor Broadhurst said. “And I of you,” Blayne said. He clenched his fists under the table. Windsor gave him a look, then turned back to Paxton. Blayne watched them throughout dinner. They were engaged in a conversation. Although Paxton was talking about the horses and business, Windsor was flirting, but Paxton didn’t see it. After dinner, Paxton walked out and Windsor followed him. “See?” Thomas hissed. “We’ve gotta do something about this,” HC said. “You said something different earlier,” Blayne pointed out. “He looks at him like Morgan looks at you. He has no right.” HC looked grim. “I’ll talk to Morgan,” Blayne said. “You’d better,” Thomas said. The warning in his tone made Blayne take notice. Thomas getting angry would not be a good thing. The men went out of the door. He could just hear the murmur of their conversation—Paxton and Windsor. “What’s wrong?” Morgan asked behind him. Blayne turned to him. “You’d better tell your friend to leave Dad alone.” Morgan raised his eyebrow. “Why?” “He’s flirting,” Blayne hissed. “So? Paxton is a grown man. Hell, if he doesn’t want him to, he can tell him that. Besides, Win already mentioned if he wasn’t interested, he would stop.” “It’s not that he isn’t interested. Dad didn’t notice. Daddy said the same thing happened with them until he almost had to tackle him to get him to know he was interested.” “Really? Win didn’t think it was that.” Morgan chuckled. “Good. He’s leaving him alone. You’d better make sure,” Blayne said, poking him in the chest.
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Back in his office he flopped onto the couch, and the animals, now awake, came over. He picked up the cat and the puppy. Dwayne jumped onto the couch and put his head on Blayne’s knee. “You’re serious about this?” Morgan asked. “Yes. Why aren’t you warning off your friend?” Blayne demanded. “I’m not going to do that.” Morgan rolled his eyes. Blayne crossed his arms over his chest. “Really?” “Really. I’m going to tell Windsor good night, while you get over your snit,” Morgan said calmly. “Snit,” Blayne growled. “Yes. Snit. The cactus in full effect.” Morgan laughed. “Again with the cactus,” Blayne said. Morgan walked out, laughing. Blayne leant back on the couch. He petted the animals. “I don’t have snits.” Barks and meows sounded. He glanced at the little animals. Blayne smiled, then chuckled.
Morgan walked out onto the porch and caught the tail light of a truck as it was leaving. He supposed it was Gibson, Paxton, and Thomas. He walked over to Windsor and leaned against the rail next to him. “Nick and Warwick told me about your fellow being really nice and friendly. So is it me or something?” Windsor asked lazily. “You know what it is,” Morgan said. “From their looks, I never would have pegged them for his sons. But their growliness when I flirted with him would have clued me in, even if you hadn’t already told me. ” Windsor chuckled. “Are you taking lessons in troublemaking from Warwick?” Morgan asked. “Nah. As I said earlier, since he isn’t interested, I won’t flirt. But shit, he’s a fine-looking man,” Windsor said, looking towards where the truck had already disappeared. “It’s not that he isn’t interested. He didn’t notice,” Morgan said. “Really? Good to know.” A smile spread across Windsor’s lips.
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Morgan cursed silently, realising what he had done. He made a decision not to tell Blayne. “Don’t tell Blayne,” Morgan said. “You weren’t supposed to tell me, huh? I won’t.” Windsor laughed. “I didn’t expect you to pursue it.” Curious, Morgan looked at him. “Paxton isn’t your usual type.” “True. But there’s something about him.” Windsor tapped his finger against his lip. “Be serious if you approach him,” Morgan stated. “With him, that’s all I will be.” Windsor looked at him, the expression on his face intense. Morgan nodded. They looked out over the yard and talked. Windsor took his leave, and Morgan went back inside. Blayne and the animals weren’t in the office, so he went up to his room. Entering, he spotted Dwayne, the puppy, and the kitten curled up together in the dog bed in the sitting room. He made a mental note to get the stuff he had bought them from the truck tomorrow. Knowing Blayne, he would want to get more stuff for them. In his room, Blayne was under the covers in bed. Morgan quickly showered and dried off, then climbed naked into bed. He pulled Blayne to him, arranging him with his head on his chest. Blayne kissed his chest, then snuggled in. “Did you talk to him?” Blayne said sleepily. He grunted. Blayne stiffened, then looked up at him. He studied him intently. “What did you do?” he demanded. Morgan kissed him, rolling over onto him. He set about distracting him from his question.
**** The sound of the truck pulling into the yard captured Morgan’s attention. Morgan glanced up and saw the trailer, then turned back to Blayne. “The new cattle and bulls are here. It might be late before we get done. Don’t know if we’ll get our walk later. I’ll try.” Morgan kissed him, then walked away. “I’ll send the listing to your iPad so you can make sure everything is good,” Blayne called.
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Morgan raised his hand with the new iPad in its case. Morgan stifled a grin. Blayne had surprised him with it a few days ago, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Morgan loved it. Not the iPad, but that Blayne had bought it for him. Blayne had put it on the table when they were having breakfast. Morgan had teased him about finally letting him touch his new gadget. Blayne’s matter-of-fact answer, that it was Morgan’s gadget, had shocked him. He was pleased, but hadn’t said that. Instead, he’d grumbled about not wanting it. Blayne had called his bluff, reaching for it. Morgan had snatched it up off the table so fast he hardly saw his hands move. Blayne’s smug grin hadn’t made him put it down. He had walked around with it all day, a big grin on his face. He’d ignored the ribbing from the men. After he showed them what it could do, they’d all wanted one, too. Morgan placed the iPad in Zeus’ saddle bag. He mounted, then pulled down his hat and glanced at Drake. Drake nodded and they rode off. Later, Morgan removed his hat and wiped his forehead. He took out his kerchief and wiped his face. He turned to glanced at the men working. They were roping the new cattle in and moving them. Some were working on tagging them, while others branded them. “Let’s unload the bulls!” Drake shouted. Morgan walked over to him. The last trailer lowered its gate. The bellowing of the bulls was loud. Men came and started moving them out and he and Drake went to help. He got lost in the rhythm of getting the bull unloaded, then down the ramp to its pen. Finally, he handed off the last bull to Stokes, who led it into its own pen. Morgan walked over to Drake, who was standing by the gate. He glanced at his watch. “We’re done, at least for now. Let’s go back. We can make it just in time for dinner. ” He slapped Drake on the shoulder. “Let me tell Will to finish up,” Drake said, walking away. He nodded, then headed to his horse. A cracking sound made him turn. Morgan’s eyes widened as the bull charged him, breaking through the gate. In that second, he noticed Stokes lying on the ground, still. Morgan shifted and jumped out of the way as the bull went past him. He hit the ground with a grunt and rolled. The sound of men yelling and cursing reached his ears. He shook his head as a wave of nausea hit him. His vision dimmed, and he swayed on his knees. Stilling, he caught his balance and staggered to his feet. By the time he was up, the men had roped the bull. It was bucking, dragging them. They held on, and more men ran to herd it into another enclosure. Morgan took a step, his
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knees weak. Each step seemed like an effort. He couldn’t understand why. He’d taken harder hits before. As he reached Drake he saw his eyes widen, then he said something Morgan couldn’t make out, although he was close enough to. His hearing returned and the noise of the men rushing around battered them. “Morgan, lie down!” Drake screamed, grabbing at him. “No…what… Why?” Morgan batted his hand away. Drake stared at him, then said calmly, “You’re bleeding.” “I’m not,” Morgan stated. He looked down and gaped at his bloody, ripped shirt. Looking back at Drake, he whispered, “Well, fuck. I am.” His legs collapsed. Drake caught him, lowering him to the ground. “Call an ambulance!” Drake barked. “I’m good. Just take me home,” Morgan protested. “No,” Drake said. A screech of tires, then running feet. Someone skidded to a stop next to him. Blearily, he locked eyes with hazel green. “What’re you doing here?” “I heard it over the walkie. Morgan. God. You’re bleeding,” Blayne said. “It’s okay. I’m good. It’ll take more than a fucking ornery bull to take me out. Just take me home,” Morgan insisted. “You’re going to the fucking hospital,” Blayne insisted. “Please. I don’t need that.” Morgan tried to stand. Hard hands held him down. He gripped them and watched Blayne’s furious eyes. “You’re going to the hospital,” Blayne said. Morgan attempted to speak. Another wave of nausea hit him and his head fell back. “Morgan!” Blayne’s roar was the last thing he heard as everything went black.
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Chapter Six
Blayne held Morgan as he collapsed. Blood soaked his shirt. Morgan’s blood. The panic he’d felt at the call on the radio was nothing compared to when he’d seen Drake holding a bleeding Morgan. Now Morgan was out cold. He held him. “Blayne, we need to let the EMTs work,” a calm voice said. Hands pulled at him. He refused to let Morgan go. “Come on, son.” Paxton’s voice finally got through. He let Paxton pull him back as the EMTs worked on Morgan. They ripped open his shirt. The gaping wound on his side flowed with blood. Blayne shuddered. The EMTs put pressure on the wound and loaded Morgan onto the stretcher. Paxton led Blayne to the ambulance. He watched numbly as they took off. “Let’s go.” He glanced up and saw HC standing by his SUV. Another truck was idling next to it. Thomas and Gibson were inside. Blayne and HC got in with Paxton in the back and they drove to the hospital. Please let him be okay, Blayne prayed. He jumped out as soon as the SUV stopped and rushed inside. “Morgan Ralston. He was just brought in. Where is he?” he asked at the desk. “And you are…?” the nurse asked. “Blayne, his…” He trailed off. “He has his power of attorney,” Gibson said. Shocked, Blayne glanced at him. “Morgan had it drawn up a few weeks ago,” Gibson said. The nurse said, “He’s with the doctor. They’ll be out to see you.” He thanked her absently and went over to sit. The rest of them came in. Blayne sat, holding himself. “Morgan Ralston?” a modulated voice demanded. Looking up, Blayne spotted Windsor. Windsor saw him, too, and walked over. Warwick and Nick rushed in through the doors and joined the group.
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“How is he?” Windsor asked quietly. “We don’t know yet,” Paxton replied. Windsor turned his attention to Paxton. He studied him for a moment, then looked back at Blayne. “I’ll give the hospital a copy of the power of attorney.” Windsor squeezed Blayne’s shoulder. “Just in case. He’ll be fine.” He turned and went to the desk. Warwick and Nick touched Blayne’s shoulders and sat on either side of him. Men from the ranch started filtering in. They waited to hear what was going on. When a doctor came through, they stood. “Who’s here for Morgan Ralston?” the doctor asked. “Here.” Blayne stood. The doctor walked over to him. “Flynn, when did you get back?” Gibson asked. The doctor looked at him. “A few days ago. I was coming out to the ranch after my shift. When I saw Morgan come in, I was surprised.” “How is he?” Blayne demanded. “You must be Blayne. Morgan’s mentioned you a few times in his emails.” “How is he?” he asked again. “He’ll need lots of stitches, but he’ll be fine. He’ll need bed rest for a few days and will have to take it easy, which will make him ornery.” The doctor smiled. Blayne staggered. The doctor gripped his arms. “Easy, there. Morgan is made of stern stuff. It’ll take more than a fucking ornery bull to take him out. ” The doctor chuckled. Blayne laughed, recognising Morgan’s words. The doctor squeezed his arm, then released him. Blayne braced his feet. “We’re gonna keep him overnight. Since I was coming out to the ranch anyway, I’ll come by to check on him some time in the next few days,” the doctor said. “Thanks, Doctor-“ “It’s O’Neal. But you can call me Flynn. Morgan probably mentioned me.” Blayne nodded, remembering Morgan had mentioned a doctor friend, Flynn, who was away working with Doctors Without Borders. “Thanks, Flynn. When can I see him?”
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“In a little bit. They’ll come get you. Let them get him settled in his room first. He’s bitching about being kept, but they’re drugging him, so he should be more agreeable.” Flynn laughed, then added, “Stokes is okay, too. He only has a concussion and some bruises.” Blayne nodded. “Flynn,” Windsor said, slapping him on the shoulder. Warwick and Nick joined him and they all walked away together. Blayne took a seat. A little while later, a nurse came to get him. He went to Morgan’s room by himself. He pushed open the door and went over to Morgan. The cowboy had a goofy smile on his face. “Told you I was fine. Now get me out of here,” he said. “Oh, no. You’re spending the night here,” Blayne replied. “Nope, I’m not. As soon as the walls stop moving, I’m outta here,” Morgan said. “They’re giving you some good drugs.” Blayne laughed as he leaned over him and kissed Morgan on the lips. “Yep. Flynn is good folk. He said the wound will hurt like a bitch, and to take it easy on the stitches.” He snorted. “That ain’t happening. I want to go home so I can get to work.” “You aren’t working until the doctor says you can. You’re staying in bed,” Blayne admonished. “Are you staying in bed with me? We can work on that braid.” Morgan got a goofy, sly grin. “You’re not going to be in any condition for sex for a while,” Blayne stated. “Wanna bet?” Morgan asked, his voice slurring. “Cowboy,” Blayne growled. “Prima Donna,” Morgan said, then started to snore. Blayne brushed his hair away from his face. He kissed his cheek. “I’ll let you have that one, since you’re hurt. But call me that when you’re better, and all bets are off.” Blayne sat in the chair next to Morgan’s bed and held his hand.
**** “What are you doing up?” Blayne growled.
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Morgan got a mutinous look on his face. “I’m fine.” Blayne made a sound of frustration and went over to him. He took his arm and led him back to the bed. Morgan got in, grumbling. “I don’t need to get into bed. It’s been almost a week already. I nee—” “I don’t want to even hear it,” Blayne warned. Morgan crossed his arms over his bare chest. Blayne glanced at the stitches. They looked just as frightening as they had the first time he’d seen them. Flynn had come by to check on Morgan. He’d even mentioned they were looking better. It didn’t seem that way to Blayne. “Stay in bed. Here, use this.” He gave Morgan the iPad. “I’m tired of lying around. Even if I can’t go outside, I can at least come to the office to keep you company,” Morgan wheedled. “No.” Blayne held firm. “Stay in bed.” He kissed him on the lips. Morgan cupped his head and deepened the kiss. Blayne moaned, then withdrew. “And none of that, either,” Blayne said. “Come on. I’m fine,” Morgan growled. “Do that, and you’ll pull your stitches,” Blayne said. He walked away. Morgan grumbled, too low for him to hear. Blayne rolled his eyes and left. He met Gibson in the hall. “How’s the patient today?” Gibson chuckled. “Ornery. Make sure he doesn’t get out of bed,” Blayne said. “Will do,” he said, going in. Blayne went downstairs to his office, and worked until a sound made him look up. Standing, he glared at Gibson. “He’s bigger and meaner than you,” Gibson said. He helped Morgan to the couch. Blayne went over to Gibson and hit him on the shoulder. Gibson moved away. “I’m going to just lie here and rest. Same as in bed, just with you.” Morgan smiled impishly. Blayne sighed, then glared at Gibson. “Go get a pillow and some sheets.”
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Gibson left. Morgan touched Blayne’s fingers. Blayne turned to him, squeezing his hand. Gibson returned with the pillow and sheets and helped Morgan sit up as Blayne made up the couch. Once Morgan was settled, Gibson left. Blayne knelt next to Morgan, brushing his hair away from his forehead. Morgan’s eyes drooped, and he fell asleep. A soft brush of fur pressed against Blayne. He petted the puppy. The cat meowed, and Dwayne woofed. He petted each of them and stood. Glancing at Morgan one more time, he went back to the desk. He worked quietly.
**** Waking, Morgan glanced over at Blayne. He was hard at work. Over the last few days, they had got into a sort of routine. He would come down around lunchtime and spend the afternoon with Blayne while he worked. Then they would have dinner and he would head up to bed, while Blayne did some more work before joining him. He had enjoyed spending time with Blayne as he worked. Stretching, he sat up. “Don’t do that too much. You’ll pull something,” Blayne warned. “I’m okay.” Blayne rolled his eyes. Noting it was a two hours before dinner, Morgan stood and walked over to Blayne. “Come with me,” he said. “Where?” Blayne asked suspiciously. “Outside. I miss our walks,” he said quietly. He could see Blayne’s indecision. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, holding out his hand. Blayne got up, taking Morgan’s hand. Morgan laced their fingers together and led him outside. They strolled their regular route. At this time of day, the men were still working, and all was quiet. They stopped at the rail and watched the horses in the pasture. “Marry me,” Morgan said quietly. Blayne gasped, then looked at him. Morgan took a ring out of his pocket and held it out to him. Blayne stared at it. The band was braided strands of white gold, copper, and yellow gold. It was simple and beautiful. Blayne raised his head. A frown spread over his face.
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Morgan shifted, a knot in his stomach. “You haven’t said the words, Morgan,” Blayne said. Morgan ran his hand over the top of Blayne’s ear. “We really need to get your hearing checked.” “Again with the hearing.” Blayne glared. “You just need to listen, Cactus,” Morgan stated. “And now ‘Cactus’. Boy, you know how to romance a guy,” Blayne groused. “It’s a gift.” Morgan kissed the tip of his ear. “Such a load of shit.” Blayne snorted. “But you love me anyway,” he said with surety. Blayne leaned his head back and glared. “I’m supposed to tell you that, not have you say it for me.” “I’ve been listening, Cactus.” He tapped his hand over his heart. Blayne’s eyes softened, then he smacked him lightly in the chest. “No. You’re not going to get me that easily.” “Easily?” Morgan hooted in disbelief. “Hush,” Blayne said. “I guess you don’t want this, then.” He went to put the ring away. “Not so fast.” Blayne snatched it from his hand. Morgan stepped back. Blayne glanced at the ring, then back at him. Morgan rocked back on his heels with his fingers hooked in his belt loops. Blayne frowned and went to him. He gave him back the ring, wiggling his fingers at him. Morgan chuckled and took his silent prodding. He put the ring on Blayne’s finger, then raised it and kissed the band. Blayne shuddered. Morgan pulled him in and cupped his ass. “Is that a ‘yes’?” Morgan asked. “Now who needs his hearing checked?” Blayne ran his finger down Morgan’s ear. Morgan chuckled and hugged him. He led him inside the house. When Blayne turned towards the office, Morgan herded him to the stairs. “No, we can—” He kissed Blayne, cutting him off. Each time he released him and he started to protest, Morgan kissed him again. He manoeuvred Blayne up the stairs and into the bedroom. Reaching the bed, he pushed him back until Blayne sprawled on the bed.
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“The romance is really thick, but we can’t.” Blayne moved. Morgan pushed him back, blanketing his body. Blayne gasped. “I’ll be gentle.” Morgan kissed his cheek. “Slow.” He licked under his jaw. “And deep.” He kissed him hungrily. Blayne gripped him. Morgan grunted and raised himself over him, undressing him. He shucked his own clothing and settled back against him. He rubbed against Blayne, slowly. Blayne moaned and bit against the side of his neck. Reaching for the lube, Morgan lay down beside Blayne. Within a few minutes, he was sinking into him. Blayne’s breath hitched, and he moaned. Morgan stroked slowly. He ignored the twinge in his side. He thrust gently, slow and deep. Blayne whimpered and held him tight. With deliberate strokes, Morgan took him. Each hitch of Blayne’s breath was music to his ears. The rapid rise of Blayne’s chest rubbed his skin against Morgan’s. Morgan kissed him and thrust deep—once, twice, then again. Blayne arched and moaned loudly. Wetness coated his belly. Morgan shuddered and came inside Blayne’s gripping crease. Leaning against him, Morgan kissed him thoroughly. Resting his head against Blayne’s chest, he listened to his heartbeat.
“You look relaxed,” HC said. Blayne looked at him and smiled. “What’s up?” HC looked suspicious. “Nothing,” Blayne replied. He’d promised Morgan they would tell everyone together. HC opened his mouth. “Get your ass in the kitchen and finish preparing your meal,” Abby said. “Later,” HC warned Blayne. Then he turned to Abby. “Come on, Abby girl. Let’s get everything on the table.” They left. A hand slapped Blayne on the shoulder. “Congrats, son.” He looked at Paxton. He hugged him, a wide grin on his face. “Morgan told you. Thought we were going to tell everyone together,” Blayne said. “He had to ask my permission,” Paxton said cheerfully. “He what?” Blayne demanded. “A southern thing.” Paxton chuckled.
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“Still weirded out.” Blayne sighed, then narrowed his eyes. He walked away from a laughing Paxton and went out onto the porch. He spotted Morgan and walked over. He turned his back to him and faced Gibson. “Gibson.” Gibson looked wary. “Yeah?” “I’d like your brother’s hand in marriage,” he stated. Gibson looked from Blayne to Morgan. His lips twitched, and he cleared his throat, then spoke. “Are you going to treat him right?” Gibson asked seriously. “Maybe.” Blayne glared at Morgan, who looked stoical. “Do you have any money?” Gibson asked in the same tone. “Gibson,” Morgan said, smacking his brother upside the head. “Hey. He should be able to support you if needed.” Gibson rubbed his head. “Go in the house,” Morgan said. Gibson went, chuckling. Morgan’s arm came over Blayne’s shoulder and down across his chest. “I love you, Cactus,” Morgan said quietly in his ear. Blayne sagged against him, then turned in his embrace. Those steely, blue-grey eyes were steady and calm, the rugged face intense. “Say it again,” Blayne demanded. Morgan ran his finger over the top of Blayne’s ear. “Your hearing is faulty.” Blayne tapped him on the chest. Morgan pulled him in close. “I love you, Morgan.” “I know, Cactus. And that’s the only way it could be.” Blayne chuckled. The man was irritating and liked things his own way. And damn if he wasn’t right. It had all been Ralston’s Way.
About the Author Talia Carmichael is a romantic who believes that family, no matter if it is by blood or those you choose as family, is integral to who you are. She is an author who writes sexy stories in a variety of genres. She believes in creating stories that encompass all that falling in love or lust entails, from the highs of that first blush of attraction to the lows of not knowing if you can make your coming together as a couple work, and then finally to the acceptance of the reality of making a life together. It's all about the journey. Among her books you'll find contemporary, futuristic, fantasy, and paranormal settings with M/M and ménage themes that will have a happily-ever-after. Her books are passionate, intense, and real… to fill the craving. Email: http://taliacarmichael.com/contact.htm Talia Carmichael loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com
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