Cowboy's Law

by B. A. Tortuga

  Seth could get behind that, sure as shit. He pushed up all along Law’s muscles, lips searching out the rough five-o’clock shadow.

  He was fascinated by the darker brown hair on Law’s body. Seth loved how it caught at his fingers. He thought the low sounds Law made were the hottest things he’d ever heard—rough and raw, nothing like the gentle man he’d come to know.

  This was pure need.

  Law pressed him back to his bed, pushing him back against it before scrabbling at his jeans.

  Thank God.

  He helped, sucking in and lifting up as Law needed him to. The button finally popped open, Law easing his zipper down, then skimming off his jeans. Oh, hello.

  “Damn, cowboy.” Law grabbed him in a strong hand, and it was almost all over, right there.

  He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around Law’s wrist. “Gimme a minute.”

  “I got you. We have all night.” The grip eased, became more of a teasing touch.

  “Sorry. Sorry, honey. I just want you bad, and it’s been a while.”

  “I hear you. I’m the one afraid to take my pants off.” Law laughed, a raw, needy sound.

  “Let me help you with that.” He opened Law’s belt and fly, easing the tighty-whities down to expose a treasure of a cock. “Fuck yes.”

  Seth licked, one long line, from base to tip.

  “Oh, Jesus. Baby, we gotta…” Law danced a little. “Bed. Let’s get on the bed, huh?”

  “Yeah.” He skinned out of the rest of his clothes, then helped Law strip and ease into the bed.

  “Mmm. Better.”

  The muscles in Law’s scarred thigh were twitching visibly, so yeah, he’d bet that felt better.

  “Here. Let me help.” He started rubbing, up and down, nice and steady, even as he licked along Law’s shaft.

  “Oh, damn.” The moan was long, drawn-out, and Law wiggled, butt digging into the bed.

  Hell yeah. He knew how to split attention with the best of them, so he rubbed and licked and massaged and sucked, learning all the best sorts of things about how Law tasted—salt and bitter and sharp.

  Law’s fingers skated over his hair, his neck, the tattoo that started on his shoulder. “Don’t stop. Please, man. I need this.”

  “Not stopping.” He knew how to bring a man off and leave him rode hard and put away wet. He let off on Law’s thighs and pushed behind the heavy sac, dragging his finger along that sensitive, wrinkled strip of skin.

  “Fuck!” Law ground out the word, low and dirty, and it just made him harder, hotter.

  He arched up over the fat prick, relaxing his jaw and taking the thick mass in, swallowing on every downstroke.

  Law cursed, then made promises he dearly hoped that man kept. Those heavy thighs flexed, driving Law up into his mouth, giving him a hard semblance of fucking.

  I’m going to ride you so hard, honey. He waited until Law was leaking into his lips almost continuously, and then he used his nail behind Law’s balls, making him really feel it this time.

  “Seth!” Law bit back that shout, but he could hear the emotion behind it, and Law came for him, shooting hard into his lips, and Seth made sure to make the sensations go on and on.

  “Damn. Damn, baby.” Law cupped his chin. “Hey, come up here.”

  Seth crawled up Law’s body, making sure to rub the entire way. “Fuck, you feel fine to me.”

  “Good.” Law gripped his ass. “Your mouth. Jesus, Seth, I’ll dream about that every night.”

  “Or you could feel it.” He was easy. Especially right now.

  “Uh-huh. I could so do that.” Law kissed him, clearly willing to taste himself.

  He straddled Law’s belly, careful not to put his weight on the man until he knew it was okay.

  Law held him easily, hands on his hips, staring up at him. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

  “I want to ride you, but I’ll come before you stretch my ass out.” Honesty was important. “Touch me? Please?”

  “God, yes. We can work toward that other later.” Law wrapped one hand around his cock, stroking up and down.

  “Uhn.” He groaned, driving up into Law’s hand. “Fuck. Fuck, your touch.”

  “You’re hotter than the Fourth of July, Seth. Look at you. A wet dream.” Law’s voice was gravelly, scraping along his nerves, rough and raw as all get-out.

  He preened a little. He was a damn cowboy, after all. A man had his pride.

  “Harder, honey. I’m fixin’ to…” His balls ached, feeling heavy and tight. “Oh, fuck…”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I want to see that.” Law stroked him faster, digging in a little and giving him real friction.

  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he grabbed Law’s massive upper arm, holding on tight as he shot.

  “Fuck. Fuck yes. Oh, damn.” Law was watching him when he was able to open his eyes.

  “H-hey. That was… damn.” He had to be grinning like a monkey.

  “Uh-huh.” Law just nodded, eyes heavy-lidded. “And then some. Damn.”

  He nodded and dragged one hand down Law’s body—not trying to arouse, but to… research. Yeah, that was what he was doing. Research.

  He loved how hard the muscle was under there. Seth knew Law had worked hard at therapy, and at night in his room doing shit like push-ups and crunches, to get that tone back after months of recovery. Chasing kids and cattle required stamina.

  Seth chuckled softly, because he didn’t want to think about either kids or livestock right now. He wanted to think about all the wonderful things that were possible.

  He traced a scar, flat and smooth, which must have been a burn. Different from the more jagged shrapnel ones.

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Law asked.

  “How lucky I am you got out of that alive.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, no shit. You don’t think they’re ugly?”

  “Bah.” He rolled his eyes. Like a few scars could scare him off. “I seen worse. I live in a world where scars happen. They mean you didn’t hide in a room and let life ignore you.”

  “Yeah.” Law relaxed a little, and he hadn’t even realized the man was tense. “I’m still trying to get used to them, you know? I mean, I had a few.” Law showed him a jagged scar on the opposite side from most of the bomb damage. “One of the guys went nuts out in the desert one night. Not sure if he was on something or if he just snapped. Stabbed me pretty good.”

  “Jesus.” He stroked it, learning it too. “I got this one from taking a horn to the chest. Slipped in right at the edge of my vest.”

  He let Law feel the long jaggedy trail traveling along his side.

  “That had to be fun,” Law teased. “This one on my hip was from falling out of a damned transport. We were roughhousing and I went right out the back.”

  “Ah, the official ‘you’re a dumb shit’ scar. I have none of those.” He rolled his eyes and showed the puckered round scar from a piece of rebar. “I was going to show my daddy that I was old enough to break a horse. Son of a bitch threw my ass in a second flat, and I landed on the fence. Hung there until my cousin Ricky could get my momma.”

  “Oh, God. How old were you?” Law traced the scar, fingers gentle.

  “Shit… seven, I think?” He laughed. “My daddy wanted to beat me, I think, until Momma reminded him he had scars on his butt from being bucked off into cholla.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Law shook his head, body shaking with chuckles. “I remember daring Pistol to get on a calf backward. I told him if he got on and held the tail the calf couldn’t buck him off.”

  Seth snorted, because he could see that. Hell, give Pistol a couple of tequila shots and Seth could have talked him into it again. “And how did that go?”

  “Well, that calf turned him every which ways but loose, if you know what I mean.” Law chuckled. “He toughed it out. Didn’t even cry when that calf took a crap.”

  “Oh man. I bet your mama was pissed.” Little cowboys got dirty. That was a thing.


  “She wasn’t thrilled. But I did the laundry, so it was me who paid.” Law chuckled. “I was domestic from an early age, I guess.”

  “I never was. Hell, I never thought I’d settle on the ranch, but the two years before I retired were harsh.” He’d lost his dad, he’d broke his neck, he’d broke his pelvis, and he’d been called to come home. He didn’t know then that Pistol would need him as bad as he did.

  “Yeah? I was at the top of my game… My therapist keeps asking if I’m unfulfilled or missing it or whatever. I think, maybe I’m super shallow. I mean, I miss the guys some, but this is good.”

  “I bet. I get it. Not the top of the game part. My top was ten years ago, but missing the guys. Before Pistol got sick, there were always cowboys stopping by. Now?” He shook his head. He reckoned they didn’t know what to say in front of the babies.

  Law grimaced. “You’re the war widow.” He shook his head when Seth would have said something. “I mean, I know you weren’t together, but it’s still the way of things. Just like the guys called and sent care packages, but I was the one who got hurt. I’ll probably never see them again.”

  “Well, for your sake, I hope you do.” Friends were important. Hell, he had Bonner, and a handful of folks that he texted even if he didn’t see them.

  “Yeah.” Law leaned over to kiss him. “I want you to know this is amazing, though. You. The kids.”

  “I wasn’t sure why you came here, but I’m awful glad you did.”

  “I didn’t know where else to go.” They leaned foreheads together. “Maybe it was meant to be.”

  “I ain’t one to question God.” And God knew, he needed a hand, a friend, someone to help him deal, because he wasn’t so good at this shit.

  “Yeah? I’ve railed at Him a time or two.” Law yawned, looking like a surprised owl after. “Sorry.”

  “Shh. You want to stay here?” Law’d slept in his bed before.

  “I do. If that’s okay?” Law yawned again. “No one looks for me in my room.”

  “You’re welcome here.” He slipped from the bed and tugged on some pajama pants. “I’ll grab your pills and some water.”

  “Thanks, baby.”

  Seth liked going from “man” to “baby.”

  “You’re more than welcome.” Damn. That man was fine.

  “Cool.” Law settled back, and he didn’t have to ask if he needed to hit the head. Law had brushed his teeth and everything before coming to join him, he could tell.

  Seth padded out, checked on the girls, finding Jordan curled on the floor with her stuffed animals and Keira in the closet drooling on her color books, so he put them back in bed. He turned out Bethany’s light on the way, and put her book on the bedside table. Then he grabbed pills and water before he headed up the other hall, Wiley’s light still on under the door.

  It was Saturday, so the low murmur of Wiley’s voice was okay. He and his girlfriend were so into each other.

  He made his way back into the bedroom and put the water and pills by the bed before picking up their discarded clothes.

  Law cracked one eye open. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Putting our shit in the hamper so neither one of us faceplants going to pee.” He winked over at Law and climbed into the bed. “Your pills are on the bedside table.”

  “Ah. Well, at least I know where the bathroom is, huh?” Law sat up long enough to take the tablets. “Blegh.”

  “You okay, honey?” He rubbed the strong thighs again, this time without looking to turn the man on, just give comfort.

  “Mmm. I’m great, actually. I mean, I’m always a little stiff, but you did wonders for me.” Law touched his cheek.

  “Excellent, I don’t want to make it worse for you.” He was sort of committed to better, in fact.

  “Mmm. Then come lie down with me. Helps to keep it warm.” Law held out an arm to gather him in.

  “I’d be happy to.” He cuddled in, and it was the most amazing thing. He’d never done it, slept with a lover, close and held.

  They fit fine, his head under Law’s chin. “Night, baby.”

  “Night, honey. Sleep well.” He let his hand rest on that pretty belly, and to his surprise, fell right to sleep.

  14

  Law whistled, whipping up French toast batter with the old whisk he’d found in a plastic bin in the pantry. He thought maybe it was his stepdad’s mom’s. Abuelita Lena had been a damn good cook, and sadly she was just another funeral he hadn’t made it to…

  Still, he could honor her by using it.

  “Morning, Law.” Keira wandered in, her hair wild, Strawberry Shortcake nightgown worn and well-loved. Dawn was already outside riding with Seth, practicing the barrels. Jordan and Wiley were watching old cartoons on YouTube. And Bethany was still sound asleep. It was something, how he had learned to love his alone time with each kid.

  “Morning, Shortcake. How are you?” He poured her some juice.

  “Fine. Whatcha doin’? Can I help?” She took the juice and drank deep.

  “You can. I need the bread soon. Can you get it out for me?”

  “Uh-huh. I can. French toast is the best!” She bounced over to the bread box. “Which bread?”

  “Just the butter white, please. I might have known you like it best.”

  “Did you? You pay excellent attention. You know what Uncle likes best?”

  “What’s that?” He knew Seth loved a sausage breakfast burrito, but sweets-wise, he had no idea.

  “Pecan sticky rolls. He loves them.”

  “Well, now. We’ll have to make them one morning, huh? But no telling.” He had no idea how to make them, but that was what cookbooks and the internet were for.

  “Yeah? Okay. I think you need special stuff for it, but I’ll help.”

  “Cool. I’ll look it up. Maybe we’ll make them the next time Uncle has to go to a promotional thing.” That would be instant mood improvement.

  “Yeah. No one likes commercial days.” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “No one.”

  “I hear you.” Or autograph day, though at least those had fans who were kind.

  “Uncle is tired of being a rodeo cowboy. He’s a ranch cowboy now.”

  “He is. We like to be home, both of us.” There was an us. How cool was that.

  “Me too, but inside helping more than outside.”

  “We all have our strengths, huh. Did you know I grew up part-time on a ranch?”

  Keira blinked over at him, comically shocked, like she thought he’d come into the earth as a fully grown soldier. “You did? Where?”

  “In Texas. Here, too, in the summers. Sometimes.” He chuckled. “My dad loved to play cowboy.”

  “You knew my big brother, huh? He was really sick. He cried a lot.”

  “I’m sorry. He was sick when he was little too. He had good times in between, though.”

  “Are we going to get it? His cancer?” God, had she been stressing this for two years?

  “No, baby girl. No one will. We’d know by now.”

  That was as true as he knew. Pistol’s cancer had come on before he was the twins’ age.

  “Why him?”

  “I don’t know, baby. The doctors tried to tell Momma reasons, but none of them made anything any easier to understand. It came back because once you have cancer, there’s a huge chance that it will come back.” He’d yelled at God a lot as a kid, spending time in hospitals with Pistol, watching his parents fall apart.

  She nodded. “Uncle is a good dad. Better than Pistol. Pistol was always mad. Uncle is… like everybody else’s daddy. There can be sleepovers and dance recitals and everything. And he helps with math.”

  “I’m sorry Pistol was angry all the time.” He grinned. “Did I ask for the bacon? Want to lay it out on the pans for me?” Baking bacon was the best way to make it for so many people.

  “I can do that. Two big pans of bacon for us!”

  “You know it.” Law set up the big griddle pan and got it heating on two of the stove burne
rs.

  “Love you, Law.” She threw the words over her shoulder, and he grinned.

  “I love you too, kiddo. Very much.” So much it hurt sometimes. When he got to thinking of what he’d missed in the kids’ lives, he told himself he’d shown up just when they needed him. And vice versa.

  And then there was Seth.

  Seth, who said perverse, wonderful things to him, sucked him off, and didn’t shy from his scars.

  He thanked God for whatever he’d done to deserve Seth.

  Speaking of—Seth came in with Dawn, both of them red-cheeked from the wind and laughing. “Lord have mercy, y’all! It’s chilly out there this morning.”

  “It’s almost Halloweeeeeeen,” Keira said, dancing as she laid out bacon.

  “It is, bacon girl!” Seth laughed, those gray eyes dragging over his body.

  “I love ba-a-con.” Keira slid the pans carefully into the oven. “Twenty minutes, right, Law?”

  “Right! Good job, baby girl.” He was looking back at Seth, though. The heavy sweater, the work jeans, they hid so much of the perfect body.

  He knew it better now, though. He could see it in his mind’s eye. He had touched it. He intended to touch again tonight.

  Dawn was looking back and forth between him and Seth, her eyes twinkling. Law gave her a mock scowl. If she said anything, he would make her cook.

  Dawn blew him a kiss, her dark eyes shining.

  Yeah, yeah. He stuck out his tongue at her, which made Seth chuckle.

  “Uncle Law! Turn the toast!”

  “Right!” He started flipping before things burned. “Saved it!”

  “I got your back, Uncle Law.” Keira grinned at him.

  “You’re a rocking sous chef, kiddo.” He plated up just as the bacon timer went off. “Syrup and butter, sous!”

  “On it, Cheffy Uncle!”

  “Do I smell French toast?” And there was the final nation heard from.

  “Good morning, Bethany! I’m helping!”

  “Oh, you’re always the best bacon maker.” Bethany was in a decent mood. Hallelujah.

  “Thanks!”

  “So… did you have a good night’s sleep, Uncle Law?”