Boyfriend for Rent (3 page)

“Mount,” Hunter said
, draping the tan saddle over a horse that must have been at least five hundred pounds of muscle and its teeth big enough to bite through human flesh.

“O ... K...,” Casey said, clueless as to how to do it. He’d never even been in a barn before
, and now he was supposed to climb on this mountain of horse flesh? A breeze blew through the building, carrying the scent of the hay and animals, different than anything he’d smelled before. Not really bad, but different. There was no tang of exhaust or the almost sickly-sweet smell of dozens of restaurants all cooking their own unique meals. He took a tentative step towards the horse and it snorted, making him jump back.

Hunter brushed the locks from his eyes and cracked a smile. “Dollie ain’t gonna bite.”

Casey wasn’t too sure of that. Dollie looked as if she’d like nothing more than to tear off a hunk of flesh.

Hunter pulled another horse out from the stall and climb
ed on like it was nothing. “Come on.”

His horse was jet black and massive, making Casey’s horse look like a miniature version. It was clear Hunter took great care of them. Their coats were silky, their manes brushed out, their gums pink and healthy. Dollie was a pale gray, a beautiful color
, really. You know, if she hadn’t been a death-trap.

Casey swallowed. He’d read somewhere that horses could kick a person so hard in the stomach that they could kill
. That, plus the wind having picked up, the whole situation was making both he and his horse nervous. He didn’t know anything about horses, but even he could see that Dollie was picking up on his tension. He just didn’t think there was anything he could do about it. There was no way he’d be able to get anywhere close to relaxed.

“You want a pony?” Hunter smirked, dismounting and grabbing hold of the foot strap. “Come on. I’ll help ya.”

Casey obeyed.

Hunter crouched down to rub the horse’s legs and looked up at Casey from his tilted cowboy hat, nothing but his blue eyes showing. His heart skipped a beat, or twelve.

“Do it,” he instructed, “Spread your legs.”

He wished Hunter was talking about something else by how hot he looked
, but did what he was told anyway.

“Mount from
the left, get off from the right,” he said.

His strong hand spanked Casey’s thigh
, then traced from the horse’s neck to her mouth. “Good boy.”

Electricity shot up Casey’s body. The feel of a man slapping his side turned him on more than he thought it would, but he ignored it. It’d been months since he and McDermott had had sex
, and even with the heartache, there was a part of him that just wanted to get fucked; to lose himself in passionate, mind-numbing, sweat-dripping sex under the control of a powerful and brooding man like Hunter.

“But I don’t know how,” Casey managed to say. His body and mind were both a tangle of emotion and varying degrees of frustration. He was wound so tight
ly he was afraid he’d explode before the day was done.

Then Hunter mounted his horse and flashed him a smile with a wink
. “Just do what you’re told. And you’ll be fine.”

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 8

I
t wasn’t just the wind that carried him, but the bumps along the trail. Casey wiped sweat from his brow and looked over the expanse. It was gorgeous. The never ending hills of grass led to a rustling creek below. The waves splashed against the rocks, making the surroundings even more serene. While the air was still chilly, the sun was warm, shining down brightly from a clear blue sky. It was like nothing Casey had seen in the city.

Hunter was right. The horse knew what it was doing as she followed Hunter’s lead.

“She dumped ya, didn’t she?” Hunter asked.

“Huh?” Casey asked.

Casey didn’t know how to explain. And he wasn’t about to out himself. He couldn’t afford to get kicked out of another house for being gay. Yet he was tired of lying to the world about who he was and fed up with feeling ashamed.

“Oh, that,” Casey said, not looking at him.

“Me too,” Hunter said, biting his inner cheek so hard it nearly bled. He could almost taste it. He regretted saying it almost as soon as the words left his mouth. He never talked about
her
.

“Yeah?” Casey asked, surprised by Hunter’s blunt confession.

“Yep.” He smacked his lips together to signal the horse to move. “Hurts like a bitch.”

Before Casey could ask more, Hunter dug his boot onto the horse’s side to push them onward. He led them down a steep trail, covered in rocky tundra and terrain. The wind howled.

“Shit,” Casey said, pulling back on the reins.

“Just stay on the horse,” Hunter teased.

“I’m trying.”

Hunter chuckled as he and his horse led them into a more level area.

“See that creek over there?” Hunter asked.

Casey squinted through the chilly air. “There?”

“Yeah, race you to it.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe just a little,” Hunter smirked. He tossed his hair back and guided his horse toward the water. “Just hold on.”

Before Casey could protest, Hunter slapped Dollie so hard on the rump that the horse took off. He held on tight, white
-knuckled and short of breath with his eyes pinned shut. “Jesus, Mary, Mother of God, please don’t let me fall off!”

As he slowly cracked open his eyes, the wind rushing against his cheeks began to relax him. He let himself feel the air and the warmth of the sun, focused on that rather than the fear that wanted to creep in, and the enjoyment began to seep through his veins. He’d never known how many thigh muscles it took to stay on a horse. It burned a slow and fiery
sensation all the way down his legs, but at the same time, he liked it. Just when he was really starting to enjoy himself, the horses slowed at the base of the creek.

It was breathtaking, like something out of a movie
: one of those old ones that Casey loved. He preferred the ones with the classy guys like Cary Grant and down-to-earth guys like Jimmy Stewart, but he’d seen his fair share of old Westerns too. There was something to be said for cowboys. And this scene looked like something out of one of those Westerns, so much so that Casey half expected to see John Wayne ride around the bend. The creek was gurgling, just like it was supposed to, and the sound mixed with the other nature sounds: frogs and birds and insects.

This was everything Casey had always dreamed
that a life in the country would be like.

Hunter turned his horse around and laughed at Casey.

“Nearly broke my neck,” Casey said.

“But you didn’t. You have fun?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Hunter jerked his chin towards the view. “Looks like somethin’ outta an old Western, don’t it?”

Casey stared. “I-I was just thinking that.”

Hunter grinned, his eyes sparkling. “A fan of the Duke’s. We’re gonna get along just fine.” He patted his horse’s neck. “Let’s get off.”

Casey swallowed. Hard. Surely he hadn’t heard Hunter correctly.

Or had he?

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 9

I
t took a moment before Casey realized what Hunter had actually meant was to get off—the horse. Even though it was a waste of time crushing on a straight guy, and he didn’t need the drama, Casey was still a little disappointed.

Hunter tied his horse to a nearby tree and leaned over the creek for a drink. The waters splashed all over his face. Casey caught a glimpse of Hunter’s tight ass and bulging thighs fitted in those skin-tight denims
, and nearly fell over from the sight of it.
Why’d he have to be so hot?

“‘s hot, ain’t it?”

“What?” Casey jumped, suddenly certain that Hunter had read his mind.

“The sun.” Hunter gestured. “Air’s a bit chilly
, but the sun’s hot.”

Before Casey could respond, Hunter did the last thing Casey had expected. He pulled off his shirt and stuck it in the creek. Casey let out a squeak that he hoped Hunter couldn’t hear. For as hairy as Hunter’s face was, his chest was smooth enough for his tattoos to stand out. All of them. Casey had noticed the one on the inside of Hunter’s arm, but now he saw that there were two Chinese characters on Hunter’s chest, just over his heart, and a design of some kind directly under Hunter’s belly button. If he’d studied it, Casey was sure he could’ve figured out what it was, but that would’ve meant staring just above Hunter’s belt buckle
, and he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what lay south of it.

“Thirsty?” Hunter asked, filling his canteen.

“Is it safe?” Casey blurted out the question before he’d really thought about it.

Hunter chuckled. “Sure, except for the nuclear spill up the hill.”

Casey wasn’t sure if Hunter was joking or not. He was so hard to read.

“You’re so serious
.” Hunter said.

Casey sighed. He knew Hunter was right. He needed to lighten up. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“You are who you are. No need to apologize,” Hunter said. “Hungry? Packed us lunch.” He sat on a large boulder, leaving room for Casey to join.

“Sure, so long as it’s not nuclear,” Casey teased.

Hunter flashed a smile and tossed him a sandwich, which he almost dropped. He never was all that great at sports. His face grew hot and flushed.

“So, what do those mean?” Casey gestured at the Chinese characters.

Hunter’s face froze, something dark passing over his eyes. Casey instantly knew that he’d crossed a line.

He backpedaled. “So sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright.” Hunter’s tone didn’t sound like it was alright, but he sat down next to Casey, so it couldn’t have been too bad. “Just personal ‘s all.”

“Of course,” Casey agreed. An uncomfortable silence fell for several minutes. “Beautiful day,” Casey said
, to distract from his embarrassment.

“Yep,” Hunter answered.

Well that wasn’t going to work. He had to think of something else. Casey bit into his sandwich and tried not to grimace. Bologna with cheap mustard. He’d seen the travesty that Hunter called a pantry. Not that it was empty. It was just full of the kind of food Casey wouldn’t have touched under any other circumstances. He needed to see if Hunter would let him cook. In the back of his mind, he heard McDermott telling him that his food wasn’t really that good. He pushed the thought back. Anything was better than this. Still, he kept eating. He was surprisingly hungry and that made the sandwich palatable. He swallowed, dabbed at his mouth and asked, “So, how long have you had this place?”

“Was my great grandfather’s,” Hunter answered, his jaws moved up and down, eating the way Casey thought a man should eat. Hunter spread his legs more open to take a proper footing and Casey could see the bulge in the worn denim.
Jesus Christ
, Casey thought, as he fought the urge to look.

“How long
were you two together?” Hunter finally asked.

"I'm sorry?" Casey said, remembering to lower his tone.

"You and your girl?" Hunter asked, squinting as if studying Casey's response carefully.

Casey cleared his throat, “Long time. At least for me.”

“Years?”

“Since high school. I just thought, you know
, it’d last...a lot longer.” He’d stopped himself before saying ‘forever,’ but he had the feeling Hunter knew how the sentence was originally going to end.

“You fuck up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Cheat on her?”

Something in Hunter’s voice told Casey that the question was personal.

Casey risked looking over at Hunter, wanting to make sure there was no doubt about his answer. “No, never.”

Hunter seemed relieved as he chewed back in his sandwich. “Good.”

“Loved him,” Casey said thoughtfully as he turned back to his sandwich.

“What?” Hunter asked.

Casey realized what he’d said, panicking
, hoping to cover his tracks. Hunter seemed to be the type of country boy who would kick his ass just for being gay.

“Um ... love it. Love this place,” Casey said quickly.

“It is what it is,” Hunter answered, lost in his thoughts, wiping his mouth with his shirt. “Better head back.”

“Sure,” Casey said. He took a deep breath and hoped Hunter hadn’t caught what he’d said the first time.

_________ o _________