Fortune's Way (2 page)

Fortunately, Kyle’s tight outer ring succumbed with a minimum of pressure. When he had three fingers inserted knuckle deep he knew the man was as prepared as he needed to be.

And Dean was way past ready. “Gonna fuck you now.”

“Please,” Kyle gasped, his face muffled by the blanket. “Do it!”

“Oh yeah.” Dean watched the tip disappeared into the opening. “Sucking me right in. You want it as bad as I do.”

“I do. More, please. I need more.” He raised his ass willingly.

Dean’s slick shaft slid in after the bulbous head. He paused when he was balls-deep in an effort to control his bubbling seed. As much as he wanted to shoot, he couldn’t come yet.
Need to fuck. Fuck this sweet, tight ass.
His rhythm matched the words flying through his head.
Fuck, yeah. Fuck, yeah.

“Oh, God!” Kyle clasped one of Dean’s hands and moved it to cover his own dick, which had grown hard again.

Dean grinned.
Ah, the magic of youth.
His twenty-something lover was hard again. Ten years older, he wasn’t sure he’d be ready to go again so soon. He had no doubts, with a couple of good tugs of the shaft, that Kyle would shoot again, along with him. “Not yet, lover,” he commanded, stroking the sticky rod. “Let’s do this together. I’m close. God, so close.”

Several more firm thrusts and Dean felt his balls churning. “Ah, yeah. Almost there.”

“I’m with you.” Kyle gritted his teeth. “Say when, big boy.”

Dean inhaled and as the wave rolled over him, mumbling, “Now!”

They shuddered together. His seed filled the latex in his lover’s ass. Pumping Kyle’s shaft, his hand filled with the spurting cream which now coated the blanket below them. It was all Dean could do to hang on to Kyle’s waist and not let him fall.

“Christ,” Kyle mumbled. “That was fucking fantastic.”

“I agree.” Dean planted a light kiss at the base of Kyle’s neck before dragging his body back and away.

“Don’t go.” Kyle’s voice was muffled by the blanket.

“Too late.” Dean chuckled, patting the tight ass as he rose. “We’ll save some of the excitement for next time.”

“Next time sounds great.”

A stack of rough paper towels sat next to the rusty sink in the stable’s john. Dean disposed of the condom and cleaned up the best he could before adjusting his clothes and returning to Kyle.

“Damn.” The sexy blond eyed him head to toe. “Dressed already? I thought you said something about ‘next time’.”

Dean chuckled. “You’re such a slut. And I’m drained. You got anything to drink in that old fridge back there?”

Kyle dressed and threw the stable blanket into the large laundry hamper. “I think there’s some beer. Want one?”

“At least.” He sat on one hay bale and kicked his feet up on another.

Kyle returned in a moment with two frosty bottles and handed one over. “So, what’s got you in such a mood tonight? And don’t say ‘nothing’. You were riled up when you got here.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “What else? My father. Enough said.”

“Maybe for you.” Kyle took a draw on his bottle then smiled. “I don’t know the illustrious Mr Fortune that well, so you’ll have to enlighten me.”

Dean thought a while before speaking. He preferred not to air his dirty laundry in public, and never discussed financial matters with the help. Kyle was obviously much more than just ‘the help’, but Dean hadn’t wrapped his mind around their relationship yet, either.

If his father realized he was bisexual, the man hadn’t mentioned it. He’d tried to bring it up a few times in his younger days, but his dad always shut the conversations down.
He probably knows.
As far as Dean was concerned, he lived a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ type of existence.

The ranch was something altogether different. His great-grandfather had built the Double-F-Ranch in the early nineteen-hundreds. The original house remained, though it had been expanded and renovated numerous times over the years. His parents had raised him there, making the place their home until his mother’s untimely death from cancer five years earlier. When it became too hard emotionally for his father to stay on, he’d moved to the city and bought a smaller home.

An only child, Dean had left his dream job driving race cars and had returned home to run the ranch. He’d thought briefly about getting involved in horse racing, but once he had come to appreciate the Appaloosas they raised, he’d realized he wasn’t truly interested. Everything didn’t have to be a competition. Much to his surprise, he’d discovered he enjoyed the slower paced way of life that the ranch offered. But when the economy tanked, his life had become more complicated.

“It’s the ranch,” he admitted to Kyle. “Until the past few years, this place has been profitable. Now our expenses are more than our income, and my father’s trying to find a way to squelch that before it gets any worse.”

“I thought the stud fees on the stallions were supposed to help.”

Dean nodded. “That was my plan, anyway. We’ve been breeding Appaloosas for years. There’s money to be made in stud services too. I thought there’d be
more
money.”

“Sorry.” Kyle smiled apologetically. “Anything I can do to help?”

Dean gazed at him affectionately. “You help me tremendously. You know that.”

Kyle blushed and kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt. “Not
that.
I meant work-related.”

“I know what you meant.” He downed the last of his beer and began picking at the label with a fingernail. “My old man has his own ideas about how to turn the business around. He wants to make it a
guest ranch.
Where folks make reservations, come and stay, and play cowboy for a few days.”

Kyle’s face fell. “Oh, God.
A dude ranch?
That would be awful! Catering to whiny city folks and their bratty kids all damn day? Please, say it ain’t so.”

Dean rubbed his face with one hand. “You make it sound even worse than I envisioned. That’s what he wants. Turn the house into some damned bed-and-breakfast type of place, and maybe add some cabins for additional housing. I tried to talk him out of it, I really did.”

“So it’s a done deal, then?”

“No.” He hesitated. “My father wants another opinion, a feasibility study of some sort. He’s hired a guy from some big agency in Los Angeles to come inspect the place, and give us his thoughts. The man is supposed to be here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Kyle blinked. “Not wasting much time, is he?”

“Nope.” An idea occurred to Dean and he smiled. “Maybe you
can
help me. We need to convince this guy that a dude ranch is not the way the Double-F should go. Want to assist with that?”

“Whatever I can do. I’m here for you, babe. You know that.”

Dean smiled. “I know, and I appreciate it. Why don’t we go to the house and grab some dinner? We can strategize about how to work on this consultant.”

“Dinner sounds good, but I had something different in mind afterward.” Kyle waggled his eyebrows.

“Probably not a good idea. Mrs Carson and Rebecca will still be there.” Dean winced.

Kyle waved him off. “Mrs Carson is as cool as they come. She wouldn’t care if she found out you’re bi. She might know already.”

“She’s great, but her housekeeping salary is paid by my father and she’s very loyal to him. If he asked questions, she wouldn’t lie. The cook is another story. Rebecca’s a god-fearing woman, and she wouldn’t like our relationship one bit.”

“Harrumph,” Kyle snorted. “And we care what the cook thinks—why?”

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t feel like trying. “Grab a couple more beers and let’s head up. I’m starved.”

“Me too.” Kyle’s gaze went down Dean’s body and back up again.

“For food,”
Dean insisted.

Kyle smiled. “That too.” He snagged two more cold brews and followed Dean into the kitchen of the big ranch house.

“Evenin’ Rebecca,” Dean addressed the matronly cook.

“‘Bout time,” she fussed, pushing a lock of gray hair from her face. “Fed the grooms and sent them home over an hour ago.”

“Sorry.” He flashed her the smile that usually got him out of her doghouse. “Seeing to Domino took longer than I thought.” He set his bottle down and proceeded to wash his hands before she ordered him to.

“Is she okay?” Concern etched her face.

“Heck yeah, she’s fine. Just gave her a little extra TLC. You know.” He smiled again. Domino had been his mother’s mare and was a favorite around the ranch.

“Praise the Lord.” Apparently pacified, she turned to look at Kyle. “You going to wash up, or you going to stand there all night?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He did as she asked.

She’d balked at first, feeding the foreman with the family in the main house. Dean had convinced her since ‘the family’ was just him now, sharing meals with Kyle was time well spent discussing the ranch. She’d grudgingly agreed, and they had settled into a routine. She went home after the table had been cleared.

Mrs Carson, the family’s long-time housekeeper, usually left around the same time. Old enough to be his grandmother, she did very little of the actual ‘housekeeping’ but managed the house and staff with great care.

Dean knew Kyle was right about her. She wouldn’t care who he dated as long as he was happy. He just had to get over the hurdle of his father before that was possible. He also knew he was accurate when he said the woman would never lie to his father, even if it was covering up for him.

She entered the dining room halfway into their meal. “Have a good day?” she asked pleasantly.

“Nothing special. How were things here?”

“The same. I’ve had the blue guest room readied for Mr McCabe when he arrives tomorrow. Your father expects he’ll stay the better part of the week.”

“Thank you.” Dean washed down the tender pot roast with a swig of beer. “Mrs Carson, you don’t think making the Double-F into a dude ranch is the right thing, do you?”

Her eyebrows creased with concern. “I can’t say it’d be for the best, no. But I bow to your father in these matters.”

“Don’t we all.” Kyle forked another piece of roast from the platter.

Dean shot him a dirty look. “We need to make sure this McCabe fellow is aware of our feelings. There has to be another way.”

She shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. I hear tell he’s a ruthless cuss, and I worry that Mr Fortune already has his mind made up. I hope this man’s trip isn’t just for show.”

“Yes, I considered that.” Dean scratched his chin. “I guess time will tell. Thank you, Mrs Carson. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” She nodded and slipped out.

Kyle shoved a bite of potato in his mouth and chewed. “One down, one to go.”

“Stop that.” Dean pushed his plate away, hunger replaced by a nervous lump in the pit of his stomach.

“You won’t be saying that later, when I’m soaping you up in the shower then sucking you off.”

Dean’s cock twitched in his jeans. “You’re evil,” he muttered, then focused on finishing his beer.

“You love it.” Kyle reached over and squeezed his knee. “Admit it, you love
me
.”

“I love you sucking me off, sure. I might love you, if you’d find me some whiskey and pour me a drink.”

“Whiskey on top of beer? You intend to be hung-over when this McCabe arrives?”

“Not necessarily. But I plan to be feeling good by the time Rebecca leaves and we get down to business.”

Kyle ate the last bite on his plate then rose. He leaned over Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll make you feel good without the alcohol, no worries.”

Dean clasped his wrist. “I need it, just tonight, please? This guy holds my future in his hands. I’m trying not to think about it, but that’s easier said than done. Another drink or two will help immensely. You can take over from there.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Kyle placed one hand on his shoulder, then sauntered in toward the bar.

Dean followed, sticking his head in the kitchen first. “Excellent as always, Rebecca. Thanks very much. Let me know when you leave so I can lock up, please.”

“Of course.”

He made his way to the front room where Kyle stood behind the bar mixing his drink. The blond-headed stud was sexy as hell, and Dean was glad he’d talked his way into staying. More sex hadn’t been on the agenda tonight, but it was possibly just the thing to take his mind off his troubles.

Kyle glanced up at him and smiled, shooting an arrow straight to Dean’s groin.

And he’s just the man to do it.

Chapter Two

Kyle entered the house the next morning. The aroma of bacon wafted through the air and his stomach growled. Regardless of Rebecca’s religious ideas, most of which he didn’t agree with, the woman was one hell of a cook. He had to work out daily when he ate three squares of her home cooking. “Morning. That smells amazing.” He took his seat next to Dean.

The cook nodded at him and set a fresh stack of hotcakes down before returning to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Dean acknowledged. He swallowed a couple aspirin and washed them down with juice.

“Told you.” Kyle smiled as he fixed his plate.

“Worth it.” Dean gazed at him sideways, grinning. “Slept like a log.”

“And you’re giving credit to the booze? I’m hurt.”

“Cocksucker.” Dean chuckled.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Kyle batted his lashes.

Dean was laughing now, and didn’t stop as they chatted all through breakfast. The only thing that sobered him up was the ringing of the doorbell. He jumped up nervously.

“Take it easy.” Kyle rose next to him. “Whatever happens, this will all be okay. We’ll make it that way. You got that?”

He inhaled then let the breath out. He nodded at Kyle affectionately. “Thanks.”

Kyle sighed. He wanted to reach out and hug his lover. Smooth his hair and reassure him that he’d always be here. Of course that wasn’t possible, and that frustrated the hell out of him. He was head over heels for the guy and would do anything to comfort him. It drove him crazy that his lover wouldn’t—or couldn’t—admit he was bisexual to his father and be done with it. Their lives would be so much easier if they didn’t have to sneak around.

Mrs Carson entered the room with someone in tow. “Mr Fortune, this is Ms McCabe from the O’Connell Agency. Apparently she’s the gentleman we’ve been expecting.”