A Subtle Breeze

jerk his hips as Brendon sucked, swirling his tongue along the length of Zeke’s engorged cock. He knew he should protest, should pull Brendon off his dick and make him leave, but damn, Brendon was right. Zeke wanted him, and not just for tonight. He was so tired of being lonely, of being scared and ashamed.
Brendon trailed his fingers from Zeke’s balls to hole then slid two digits in. He crooked them slightly to peg his prostate.
Stars exploded behind Zeke’s eyeballs. He cursed and his body coiled tight, pulsing with the hot jets of spunk shooting from his cock. Brendon purred his approval, sucking and licking and thrusting his fingers until he had wrung out every single bit of pleasure from Zeke. Only then did he withdraw his fingers and release the softening cock from his mouth.
“Damn,” was about all Zeke could manage, and even that was elaborate in his opinion, all things considered.
Brendon chuckled softly, scooting up to settle against his side and pulling the covers over them both. Zeke was dimly aware of the swollen shaft pressing against his hip and reached for it feebly only to have his hand slapped away.
“Oh, no, you don’t, babe,” Brendon whispered in his ear. “That’s part of my evil plan to make you cooperate and let me stay with you tonight.”
Zeke managed to pry an eye open to look at Brendon, noting the smug smile but feeling too sated to worry about it.
“You’re a fair man, albeit an exhausted one. I’m a horny-as-hell man, but willing to wait until you’ve had some recovery time. I’m sure you wouldn’t toss me out without…well, tossing me first, would you?” Brendon punctuated the question by tracing the shell of Zeke’s ear with his tongue.
Nodding, Zeke had to agree. He wouldn’t want to send the man away unsatisfied, that would just be cruel—especially after the blow job Brendon had just given him. And if that excuse was lame, at least it allowed Zeke to stave off the loneliness, to hold Brendon and sleep with him for a little while during the night.
* * * *
Zeke woke early, years of working the ranch ensuring he was up before dawn. It would be great if he could stay in bed and just enjoy the warmth of Brendon’s body curled up against him for a while before waking the man up properly, but there were chores that couldn’t wait. Stifling a sigh, he eased out from underneath Brendon’s limbs and stood at the side of the bed, looking down at the sexy as hell man sprawled on his bed. Brendon was all long legs and lean muscles, with a tight ass that almost broke Zeke’s determination to leave the man in peace. He couldn’t recall ever having seen such a breathtaking sight. Forcing himself to turn away, Zeke grabbed some clothes and slipped out of the room, heading for the guest shower so as not to disturb Brendon.
* * * *
“Morning, Zeke.” Charlie, one of the two ranch hands Zeke had found who was willing to work for him, was waiting out by the barn.
“Morning, Charlie.” Zeke tipped his head at the man. “Is Miguel already out with the herd?”
Charlie nodded, following Zeke into the barn. “Need some supplies, boss. Thought maybe I could run into town and pick them up, if that’s okay.”
Zeke looked back at him. Charlie knew that it wasn’t safe for him to go into McKinton, not as long as he worked at the ranch. Zeke had made it clear that he ordered all supplies from Fort Worth or Dallas—anywhere but locally. He wouldn’t risk his men being harassed or worse because of him, nor would he contribute financially to the town any more than he had to. Still, occasionally, Charlie would push the issue.
“You know better, Charlie. If you don’t want to drive into Fort Worth for whatever it is we need, and it can’t be delivered, then I can send Miguel or pick it up myself.” Zeke was not budging on this.
Charlie shook his head. “Ya know, boss, it ain’t ever gonna change if ya don’t make it. You keep punishing everyone in that town for what a few people did—”
“Enough!” Zeke snapped. “We’ve been over this before, so quit pushing me, goddamn it!” He stormed over to Charlie, shaking with anger. Brendon was on him, his cowhand was on him—his own conscience was on him. Zeke was ready to hurt someone, even though that was the very thing he was trying to prevent. That realization had his temper evaporating. What the hell was wrong with him that he flew off the handle so easily? He took his hat off and ran shaky fingers through his hair as he took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Charlie.” Zeke looked at Charlie, expecting to see anger, condemnation, some type of justified judgment. What he saw instead was understanding tinged with compassion, which made him feel like an even bigger asshole. Charlie reached out and patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s okay, boss. I shouldn’t have, well… It’s a nice day for a drive, and if you don’t need me here, I reckon I’ll head on in to Fort Worth, ’kay?”
Zeke murmured an agreement, slapped his hat back on and turned to his chores, forcing everything out of his mind except what needed to be done. Thoughts of Brendon, soft lips and hard cock, threatened to distract him. What he offered Zeke—a relationship, something more than he’d ever had with another man before—tempted him sorely, and he wondered if there was some truth to Charlie’s words. After being jumped a couple of times in town, being harassed and called names, Zeke had let fear slowly creep in and take over his life. No, he hadn’t exactly let it take over, he just hadn’t known it was happening, and when he realized it, hadn’t known how to stop it. Added to that was the damned panic attacks which had only gotten worse since his