by Andrew Grey
“This is fast-paced,” Glenn said, leaning forward slightly in his chair.
“It’s exciting as all hell,” Robert said.
The lady in front of him turned around once again. “You got that right. It’s the best thing ever.” She pointed. “That last rider was my brother. My dad rode bulls, and he always hoped Marty would too.” She grinned, and Robert shifted slightly to the side to get a better view.
“I hope he’s okay.”
She pulled out her phone and nodded. “He says he’s a little shook up but okay. He always texts me after a ride so I know he’s all right.”
Robert’s stomach clenched as he thought of the hurt that would come the time the text didn’t arrive. Lord, his stomach flipped at the thought of Zeke not being able to call after a ride if something happened to him.
“I’m glad.” They shared a smile, and she turned back around as the next rider was announced.
Some riders were successful, but some took spectacular spills. Robert was pleased he hadn’t eaten too much before coming to the arena, as his nerves were getting the better of him the closer Zeke got to his ride.
“And now our leader, the man who hopes to bring the PBR Championship back to the West, Hy Whitely.”
The arena erupted in cheers and stomping. Robert was on his feet without thinking, the crowd like a dynamo in seconds. It reminded him of the audiences at his concerts when he first climbed on stage. The sound could be deafening as it came at him like a wall. He felt the same exhilaration for Zeke that the adulation usually gave him.
He stood to the side, peering between the people in front of him as he strained to see. Eventually everyone sank into their seats again, and Robert watched Zeke settle into the chute. The bell sounded, startling him, and the chute flew open.
Cyclone burst into the arena like a rocket, jumping and thrusting with his hind legs as he spun. The movement was almost too much to take in, let alone ride on. Robert held his breath, alternating his attention between the ride and the clock, which seemed to advance in slow motion, even if the bull and rider didn’t.
Leaps and bucks were followed by spins and turns. Robert tasted blood, realizing he’d bit his lip, watching the man he loved take on a ton of muscle, even as music, raw and deep, thrummed in his head. Zeke’s song blotted out even the screaming of the crowd, punctuated by the buzzer.
Robert gulped for air. The ride was over. Zeke had held on.
But the bull didn’t seem to have quit.
As Zeke let go, the bull jumped, sending him tumbling through the air.
“Oh God,” Robert gasped as Zeke turned into a rag doll. He landed, rolled, and crashed into the boards on the side of the arena. The bull stopped, taking a look at Zeke as though deciding whether to go after him. Then he turned, seemingly pleased with the mayhem he’d already caused, and strolled off toward an open gate.
Zeke didn’t move for seconds and then slowly rolled away from the boards and got to his knees. The clowns hurried out, as did medical personnel, just as Zeke got to his feet.
Robert closed his eyes, stopping the tears that threatened, even as he willed his heart to start once again.
“Robert,” Glenn said, “can I have my hand back?”
Robert realized he’d been squeezing Glenn’s fingers and released him.
Glenn flexed his hand. “You didn’t break anything.”
“Sorry.” Robert turned back as Zeke walked out of the arena, waving his hat over his head. Zeke’s score was announced, and it was a good one, his dismount notwithstanding. He’d ridden one hell of a bull and come out the other side. His score wasn’t enough to win the event—one of the other riders just edged him out—but he was in second.
The announcer called the riders out for the presentation, and to Robert’s relief, Zeke was there along with the winner. He waved his hat and then turned to the winner, giving him a nod to acknowledge his victory, then left the arena. After final announcements, the arena began to clear. Robert stayed in his seat while the other spectators either left or made their way down to the arena floor to get autographs. Robert didn’t want to be recognized and pull attention from the riders, so he waited until most of the people had left before heading down.
“Mr. Rivers,” a boy said with a big grin as he hurried over. “Will you sign this for me?” He thrust his program upward, and Robert instantly became Avery and happily signed the program. Others asked him as well, and he signed autographs for everyone who wanted one.
“Where is Zeke?” he asked Glenn as the crowd around him began to thin.
“I’ll find out,” Glenn said and hurried away.
Robert finished signing for the fans and found himself near the riders as they finished up as well. He looked through the small crowd, hoping Zeke would make an appearance. Each second he didn’t see him, Robert grew more tense.
“You looking for someone?” the winner asked in a heavy Spanish accent, sidling up next to him.
Robert nearly asked for Zeke before remembering to use his riding name. “Hy,” Robert answered.
“He in back with medics.” The rider motioned, and Robert followed him through the passageway to a room where Zeke lay on his back.
“Hy,” Robert said as he came in. “You okay?”
These beautiful eyes slowly opened and turned to him. “I think so. The medics wanted me to lie still for a while before I got up. Did you see my ride?” Zeke started to sit up, but Robert gently pressed him back down.
“Just stay there. I saw the ride, and I swear you took a year off my life in those seconds.” The room was otherwise empty, so he took Zeke’s hand. “You had a great ride, though.”
Zeke nodded slowly and closed his eyes once again. “I’m really fine. The medic was going to come back. He wanted to make sure I didn’t feel sick to my stomach or anything.” He released Robert’s hand and slowly sat up, letting his legs dangle a few seconds, and then stood. “I need to grab my gear, and then we can go.”
“Where are you staying?” Robert asked as he stepped back to stay out of Zeke’s way.
“Out by the airport, where the hotels are affordable. Why? Where are you at?”
“I have a suite at the Hyatt.”
Zeke left the room and returned a minute later with his gear. The medic came back in and pronounced him good to go.
“Let’s get out of here,” Robert offered, and let Zeke lead him through to the door. Glenn met them along the way, talking on the phone. A limousine was just outside, and Robert ducked into it, with Zeke following, sighing as he sat back in the plush seat.
“Where is your truck? I’ll get it and bring it over,” Glenn offered, and once Zeke explained, Glenn headed off and Zeke closed the limousine door. The car slid forward, and Zeke closed his eyes.
“Are you really okay?” Richard asked.
Zeke slid closer, leaning against him. “I am now.” He sighed. “It seems like everything fucking hurts. That bull was a washing machine on permanent spin cycle, and after the last ride, I need a chance to try to heal.” Zeke closed his eyes.
“I heard your music as I was watching you ride,” Robert said. “You looked amazing, and yet I couldn’t breathe the entire time you were on that bull.” He put his arm around Zeke’s shoulder and tugged him closer.
“That ride felt good up until the last second.” Zeke muttered something else that Robert didn’t catch.
“What?”
“I said, I think I’m getting too old for this.” Zeke groaned softly when he shifted positions. “But I don’t have much choice.” He muttered something again, then said louder, “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m tired and sore and cranky.” He sighed, and Robert held him. “I should have been able to make that dismount better. It would have meant those few extra points, and then I could have won this thing.”
“You can’t win everything.” Robert snickered. “I’ve been up for a Grammy six times and never won. Sometimes I feel like the Susan Lucci of country music.”
&nbs
p; “Why haven’t you won?” Zeke asked through gritted teeth, likely as his aches caught up to him.
“There’s always some hot band or singer of the year who wins. My career built slowly, and by the time I was a success, a real success, there was this hot country group. They won everything and then broke up. The next year there was a girl singer, she was amazing, and she dominated and won almost everything.” Robert shrugged. “If winning buckles is all that matters, then why do it? Do you think I sing for the money?” He snorted and covered his face. “I’d sing if I never made a dime. It’s in my blood.”
Zeke nodded. “I know this is in mine. I’m just being whiny and feeling sorry for myself. Guillermo rode well and deserved the win. There’s nothing on him, no sour grapes.” Zeke nodded, and Robert glanced out the window as the lights from the tall buildings reflected in the glass.
Finally they pulled up to the side of the Hyatt downtown. The driver opened the door, and they got out and went into a side entrance, right to a bank of elevators, and rode one that took them to the top floor of the hotel.
“I took the liberty of ordering us some room service for tonight.” Robert closed the door and locked it. They were finally alone and Zeke was his once more.
“Thank God. Does Glenn know where we are?” Zeke slumped into a chair, wincing as he did, then groaned when he tried to pull off his boots.
“No. Come on, sweetheart, I’ll help you with those.” Robert took off Zeke’s boots and got him back on his feet. “Go on and take a hot bath. It’ll help the soreness. The tub in there is like a small swimming pool, and you can turn on the jets and really make your muscles feel better.” Robert watched Zeke go and called down to room service to tell them to bring up the food he’d ordered earlier. They said it would be forty-five minutes, which was perfect.
Once he was done with room service, Robert checked at the door to the bathroom, finding it too quiet. He knocked and peeked inside.
Zeke sat on the closed toilet, staring off into space. “Everything hurts.”
“This can’t be the first time.” Robert went inside and started the water.
“No. But it seems worse than some of the others. That damn bull really had me shake-and-baked.” Zeke undressed with Robert’s help and stepped into the tub. He sank down in the water, sighing softly as the heat worked its magic. Robert got him some painkillers and a glass of water, making sure he swallowed them before leaving Zeke to his bath.
It was so tempting to strip down and climb in with him. Zeke’s tanned skin called to him, but this wasn’t the time to sex him up. It was the time to care for him. Hell, that’s what Robert wanted to do for the rest of his damned life if he and Zeke could just get their shit together somehow. And the person to see to it that they did was him.
Zeke’s phone chimed on the bed, and Robert went to get it and put it on the desk. He didn’t mean to see the message from Samuel. On its own, it didn’t say much other than that they had another payment due.
He set the phone back down, pulled out his own, and sent Glenn a text with his idea. Glenn called him right away, and Robert instructed him exactly on what he wanted done. It was time he took the bull by the horns, and this was the best way he could figure to do it.
BY THE time Zeke emerged from the bathroom, room service had delivered their food. Robert had set it on the table, and Zeke took a seat, dressed only in one of the hotel’s white robes.
“That helped a lot,” Zeke said before digging into the food. “This steak is amazing.”
Robert poured himself a glass of wine and slid one over to Zeke as well. They ate and didn’t talk much, but the looks exchanged across the table said more than half a million words could ever convey. Robert didn’t need words from Zeke; the heat in his eyes spoke volumes.
Robert wasn’t as hungry as Zeke, so he let him take his time while he returned calls from Barry and Glenn. When he came back to the table, Zeke was just finishing up. Feeling a little naughty, Robert quietly stepped up behind him and skidded his hands under his robe and down over his chest.
Zeke stretched almost like a cat into the touch, groaning softly. Robert kept it light and gentle. He had no way of knowing where Zeke’s bruises and aches were, but he intended to find out.
“Are you done?” Robert whispered, and Zeke hummed his response, extending his arms upward as he stretched out.
“Robert… I….”
“Come on. Let’s go in the other room and I’ll return the favor you showed me after I spent too much time in the saddle.” Robert helped Zeke to his feet, led him to the spacious bedroom in the suite, and closed the door. “Lie down on your belly and relax.” He got some oil while Zeke lay down.
Bruises were already forming, leaving marks on Zeke’s skin. Robert held back the hiss that formed and decided to try to be as gentle as possible. There was nothing he could do for the bruises, but maybe he could help the muscular pain underneath. Starting at Zeke’s feet, he gently worked his fingers over his heels and arches, then massaged his toes before working up his legs.
Zeke sighed softly as tension leached out of him. Robert could feel him loosening up, moving less and putting himself in his hands. “When do you leave?” Zeke asked in a half-sleepy voice.
“Tomorrow. I have to fly back and go back to work Monday on the new collection of music.”
Zeke hummed softly. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Yeah. It’s good work, and the finished product is going to be really great. It’s just taking longer than anyone expected, though that’s mostly because of me.” Robert moved his hands upward, sliding along Zeke’s hips. “See, there is this certain guy who seems to have worked his way into my head, and I can’t get him out.” Robert continued stroking up Zeke’s back, careful of the bruises and tender locations. “I’ll be done in a few more weeks, and I’m looking for a new place to live.”
“Have you decided where?” Zeke asked, his words slightly slurred with relaxation and maybe a touch of sleep creeping in.
“There are a couple possibilities, but I can’t say for sure yet. Glenn is doing a lot of the legwork for me.” Robert yawned and shook his head to push the fatigue away.
“The ranch to the east of ours sold recently, and Dad thinks they’re going to make an offer on ours.” Zeke shivered. “I hate the thought of more pressure being added to him. He’s apparently considering selling one of the horses in order to help pay off the loan.” Zeke yawned and stretched out. “Damn, that’s so good.”
“I’m glad it’s helping.” Robert worked Zeke’s shoulders and upper back before getting him to roll over.
Zeke was hard, his cock stretching nearly to his navel. Robert did his best to ignore it and worked the muscles of Zeke’s chest and upper arms. Then he slowly eased his fingers over Zeke’s belly and his hips, leaning over him as he worked his legs.
“There. Think you can go to sleep now?”
Robert kissed him gently, then turned out the light.
Chapter 12
“DAD,” ZEKE said as he entered the ranch house a month later. Fall was definitely in the late-afternoon air, even though the temperature was still comfortable. The breeze was cooler, though, especially as twilight approached.
When he didn’t get an answer, he dropped his gear and headed back outside. He’d taken his last ride before the finals in about three months, and he really needed a chance to heal before then. He’d managed to make enough money to get the loan under control, but there was still quite a bit of money that was owed.
Zeke headed to the barn as a horse trailer pulled in. His dad came out, meeting the driver. “What’s going on?” Zeke asked.
“They’re here to take Midnight. I had to sell him.” Dad kept his voice level, but Zeke saw the sadness in his father’s eyes. “Didn’t have a choice. I was offered top dollar for him, and it will pay down most of the rest of the loan and…. No matter how much I might want to keep him, I need to make things right for you.” He went back inside, walked Midnight Rendezvous
out, and helped get him loaded and secured in the trailer.
Zeke hated to see him go. “We’ll get more horses once the ranch is on a better footing. I’ve been thinking that once the finals are over, I’ll come back and we’ll figure out a way to make the ranch pay. We have the land, so we need to get it working for us.” Zeke wanted to comfort him, but his dad wasn’t going to accept it, certainly not with someone else around.
His dad nodded and signed the paperwork for the horse transporter. Then the driver closed the trailer and climbed into the truck. They got out of the way as he turned around and slowly headed down the drive. They stood quietly together, watching until the truck and trailer were out of sight.
“When are you going to see Robert again? Are you two still a thing?” His dad didn’t turn away from where he’d been watching.
“I saw him a couple weeks ago. He came to Oklahoma City to see me.” Zeke didn’t dare look at his dad. “He’s been recording and preparing for another tour, so he’s beyond busy, but I talk to him almost every day.”
“Good.” Dad turned away and went into the house without saying anything more.
Zeke went to the barn to check out the stalls and horses. Seeing that everything was fine, he figured he’d check on the herd, but his dad met him as he came out of the barn.
“Robert called on the house phone. You weren’t answering yours.”
Zeke reached into his pocket. Sure enough, his phone was dark. He’d have to charge it when he got to the house.
“Evidently he wanted to ask you if it was okay if he stopped by.”
Zeke paused. “What? Here? He’s on his way?”
“Apparently. He said he was calling from the plane. I don’t know why he didn’t try before he left, but I said to come on and that we’d have room for him.” His dad leaned on the doorframe. “Now maybe you can kick that hangdog look you’ve been wearing for months in the ass.” His dad smiled. “I may not like to talk about shit, but I know when my son is unhappy.”
“Dad, I’m fine.”