by Sean Michael
“As opposed to what? Cold?” He grinned and tugged off his bloody shirt. “Yes, of course hot.”
“Well, some folks don’t like it too warm, honey. I was being polite.”
Brad chuckled. “Really? I didn’t know you knew how.” He winked at Cash and started in on his jeans.
“I am Southern. I have polite down to an art form, butthead.”
God, that grin was charming as fuck. He couldn’t help but respond to it with a grin of his own. “Butthead’s an art form?”
“You’re an art form. You make video games? Do you draw them on the computer?”
“I program them, yeah. It’s not quite the same thing. Get in the shower, Cash.” There was too much talking going on.
“Yeah.” Cash slipped into the water, the steam billowing up around him.
Brad followed like he was drawn, wanting an up-close look at that ass. Cash was lean and built, buttocks tight and pale as milk. Damn. “Sweet,” he murmured, sliding a hand over Cash’s butt. It felt even better than it looked.
Cash arched, pushing right into Brad’s hands. Damn, Cash was a sexy man. Brad leaned in and licked water from the back of Cash’s neck.
“Oh.” Cash reached up, fingers flexing against the tiles.
“Sensual fucker, aren’t you?” He ran his tongue down along Cash’s spine, closing his lips briefly over each knob of vertebrae.
“Depends. You like fucking sensual fuckers?” Cash chuckled, hips rocking a little.
Brad laughed and nipped at the base of Cash’s spine. “I do.”
“Well, there you go.” Cash gasped a little, spreading his thighs wide, making a clear offer.
Groaning, Brad wrapped his mouth around a bit of Cash’s asscheek, then bit down and sucked.
“Jesus!” Cash went up on tiptoe, muscles tight as hell.
“You got rubbers?” Brad asked, licking the mark that was already coming up on that pale skin.
“Not on me.”
“Crap.” He leaned his head against Cash’s back, flicking his tongue out now and then to gather a drop of water, taste Cash’s skin. “Not on you or not at all?”
“There’s one in my wallet on top of my suitcase.” Cash was moving for him, rocking and sighing low.
“Hold that thought.” He licked the very top of Cash’s crease and then climbed out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
He made it to the office and back in what had to be record time, a small square package safely in his hand and a trail of wet footprints showing where he’d been.
“You keeping that shower warm for me?” he asked as he dropped his towel.
“You know it.” Cash was working his hard cock, hand slip-sliding.
“You are one good-looking cowboy.” And that comment was probably going to come back and bite him in the ass, but it was the truth. “I got the rubber.”
“Go, you. I got the ass and the slick.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a fine ass.” Brad slid his free hand over it and pressed his thumb against the mark he’d left. Cash pushed right back, causing Brad’s fingers to push deep, dimple that fine skin. Fuck, that was sexy; made him want. “Where’s that slick, Cash? I want in. Want in now.”
Cash passed a tube over, pressed it into Brad’s hand. “Hungry son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I am.” He needed this, needed to bury himself inside Cash and simply feel.
He got his fingers good and wet and slid them down along Cash’s ass.
Cash’s legs spread, his hand outstretched on the tile. “Don’t tease, now.”
“This feel like teasing?” Brad asked, pushing two fingers into Cash’s ass. Oh fuck, Cash was tight.
“No. No, fuck. Good.” Cash squeezed him, ass working.
He leaned against Cash’s back, stretching and pushing, searching for that spot inside Cash. He wanted the man eager and ready, fast. He heard Cash grunt, felt all his muscles go tight as he rubbed his fingertips over that little gland.
Brad pushed a third digit in and thrust a time or two before putting the condom on and slicking it up. “Ready for me, Cash?”
“Fuck, yes. Come on, man.”
Oh shit. The cowboy begged so prettily.
Brad spread those sweet cheeks and nudged the tip of his cock against Cash’s hole, then pressed the head in.
“Yeah.” Cash’s ass let him in, wrapped tight around his prick, and squeezed.
Brad had little more than a grunt as an answer, a shudder moving through him as he panted, as he held still to let Cash get used to being stretched, penetrated. The water splashed down around them, Cash panting but still against him. Brad rested his forehead against Cash’s shoulder, waiting.
Finally, Cash made a sound, and that had to be the signal Brad was looking for because he couldn’t wait a second more. “Cash,” he murmured and started to move.
“Fuck. Fuck, honey. That’s sweet.”
No. No, sweet was that ass, squeezing his cock. He didn’t say anything, just grunted and kept moving. It felt so fucking good—the hot water falling on them, the hot body around him. Cash bucked and rolled under him, moving like the asshole was riding a horse. It felt fucking amazing, though, and he didn’t have a doubt that Cash was into it.
He licked the water off Cash’s shoulders, gripping his skinny hips tight as he pounded that sweet fucking ass.
“I…. Damn. Damn, honey. Come on.”
Fuck him, that was sexy.
Brad managed to let go of Cash with one hand and slide it around to find the needy prick. Bingo. Wrapping his fist around it, he then began to tug. It didn’t take Cash long at all, lean hips sawing furiously between Brad’s hand and his cock.
“That’s it. Come on my cock,” Brad moaned. It felt so fucking good he wanted to shout out loud.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Cash went tight-tight, and his spunk poured over Brad’s fingers.
Brad shouted, his mouth wrapped around Cash’s shoulder the only thing muffling the noise, keeping it from waking the kids. His hips jerked a few times, and then he came, filling the condom in hard pulses.
They panted as the water poured on them.
Finally Brad let go of Cash’s prick and slid out of that amazing fucking ass at the same time. Groaning, he slid the condom off and tossed it into the garbage.
He kissed the back of Cash’s neck. “I needed that.” He so fucking had. More than the fight.
“Yeah. Yeah. I don’t know about you, man, but I could use a pizza and a nap.”
“Uh-huh. I know a place’ll deliver pizza and beer.” He stepped away, getting himself rinsed off. “Meatlovers and a Bud do you?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“All right. I’ll meet you in the den. They’ll be here in a half hour or less.” He turned Cash’s head and took another hard kiss.
“Damn, man….” Cash gave him a grin and blinked. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
Brad got out and dried himself off. They’d probably be back to bitching each other out in the morning, but he was taking these few hours of peace and pleasure and holding on to them.
They gave him something he’d barely felt since he’d gotten the call about Val and Jack.
Hope.
Chapter Three
CASH SAT in the kitchen staring at his coffee, head thrumming like a jackhammer was at work in there. Jesus, Brad had turned him every which way but loose, then curled around him and held on, and they’d slept hard. At least until three, when Branson woke his ass up. Then Brenna had puked at five, which got Brian crying. Bless Ben’s heart, the kid had dragged both the baby and Brian into bed with him, and Cash’d done the showering-washing part.
“Uncle Cash?”
Oh Jesus. Please. Just leave me alone for two minutes. “Yeah, Belle-baby?”
“Do you want me to make cereal for breakfast?”
“No. No, honey. I’ll make oats. I need to have a sit down.” He held his arm out and Belle came to him, looking like her momma all over the place. “How
you doing, girl?”
“Okay. I’m okay. I want to go back to school. I miss my friends. I miss my teacher.”
“Yeah?” He nodded. “I can see that.”
“Do you miss your friends?”
“I miss my ranch, my dogs. I miss the horses.” He sighed, leaned close. The fact was that he missed his work; he missed his home. Damn it, Jackie. What were you thinking?
Brad came in, little Beth in his arms, a frown on his face. “I think she’s got whatever Brenna does. She’s burning up. Do you think we need to get her to the doctor?”
“Good Lord. No. No, I don’t reckon. Brenna puked a few times and then settled right away. We’d best get Sprite and applesauce, though.” Shit, he was going to jump off a bridge.
“All right.” Brad sat and ran a hand over his face. “I think we need a list. We’re almost out of diapers, and I know there’s barely any milk left in the fridge.”
“I’ll go. You want to come, Bella-Bella?”
“Radcliffe had those checks we can use delivered this morning. FedEx dropped ’em off at like 7:00 a.m.” He noticed Brad didn’t argue with his going.
Belle nodded. “What about school, though?”
Brad met his eyes. “I guess it’s time for Belle and Ben to go back, huh?”
“I guess.” He couldn’t live here. He couldn’t.
“They’ve only got a few months of school left.” Brad looked at the girls in their arms and smiled at them before turning back to Cash. “Talk later, huh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, man.” He grinned at Brad, nodded. “Morning, man. You need anything from the store?”
“I might need a thing or two.” There was a wicked glint in Brad’s eyes for half a second. “Right now I need more coffee and something to eat before I’m too weak to carry this baby girl.”
“I was going to make oats.” He stood up. “Belle, grab the measuring cup and the milk and butter.” He headed for the pantry. Man, they needed to toss some of this organic hippie-dippy shit.
“I could eat porridge. I hope we’ve got enough milk—like I said, we’re almost out. Let me find a piece of paper to make you that grocery list.” Brad stood up, Beth still clinging to him, and found some notepaper and a pencil in a basket next to the microwave. He sat back down to start a list.
Look at the two of them—working together instead of butting horns.
“Porridge isn’t a real thing, man. That’s for fairy tales. There’s canned milk in here.”
Brad gave him a confused look. “What are you making, then, if it isn’t porridge?”
“Oats.” Dork.
Brad rolled his eyes. “If you’re heating it up in a pan with milk, then it’s porridge, man.”
Shit, Yankees were weird.
Belle looked at him, then at Brad, and burst into tears.
Shit.
“Bella-Bella? What’s wrong, baby?” Cash dropped the pan and hurried to her.
“You… you sound like them. Momma and Daddy. They said that all the time about the oats.”
Brad’s eyes met his, mouth tight. “I’m sorry, honey. We didn’t mean…. We….”
“It’s okay. It’s okay; it’s sad, but… it’s kinda cool. I mean, it’s like they stayed around some, for us.”
Cash nodded, hugging her good and hard, fighting the urge to scream at God for all he was worth.
Brad nodded. “Yeah. That’s why they chose me and your uncle Cash to look after you, you know? So you’d always have a part of each of them with you.”
The doorbell rang, interrupting anything else they might have said.
“I’ll go grab it.” He kissed Belle’s nose. “You pour up six cups of water into a pan, sweetie.”
He got it on the second ring and stared at the lady standing there. “Can I help you?”
She gave him a smile and handed him an envelope with Patterson’s Nannies in the right-hand corner. “Actually, I’m here to help you. I’m the nanny.”
“Uh. I didn’t hire a nanny. Brad? You hire a nanny?” He wasn’t letting some woman come in and mess with the kids.
Nannies.
Shit.
That was for folks who didn’t want to raise their kids.
“A what?” Brad came out, Beth no longer clinging to him. “A nanny? Hell no.”
That pretty smile faded a little. “This is 314 Notting Road, isn’t it?” She waved at the envelope she’d given him. “It’s all in there.”
“Well, ma’am, I’m sorry,” Cash said, “but there has to be a mistake. We didn’t hire a nanny.”
“Damn straight.” Brad took the envelope out of Cash’s hands and opened it, face going hard. “I should have known.” He handed the envelope back to the girl. “I’m sorry, but your services aren’t needed.”
“But… I….”
“Thank you. Good-bye.” Brad closed the door in her face. “I’m going to kill her.”
“Her who?” Did people still have nannies? Real people, anyway?
“My mother.” Brad bit the words off. “Val and I? We had a fucking nanny, and Val swore her kids would never ever be brought up by anyone but family.”
“Oh good Lord.” That woman had hated Jackie, hated Cash too. Hell, he wasn’t sure she’d liked Val. “I’m sorry, man, but we got custody, you and me. We don’t need strangers.”
“You’re not going to hear any arguments from me on that front.” Brad grabbed the phone and started dialing. “I can’t believe she did this. No, you know, I can. And this is exactly why she’s not named in that will. Hello? Mother. It’s Brad.” He was practically growling, back muscles all tight. “We got your little present this morning. We sent her packing. No nannies. Val’s kids are going to be brought up by family. … I know Val and I had a nanny growing up, and that’s why this point is nonnegotiable. Christ, Mother. Those crocodile tears are not going to make me change my mind. I’m hanging up now.” And Brad did, slamming the phone down.
“Okay, man. Breathe. Let’s get the kids fed and the sick ones in bed.” They needed to deal with shit, then talk. He patted Brad on the shoulder.
“Yeah. Shit. I apologize for my mother.” Brad leaned back into his touch for a moment and then shook himself and headed for the kitchen. “If she was going to interfere, she should have hired a maid.”
“No shit. Dude, we could use someone to clean the bathrooms.”
“Yep. Someone to Lysol wherever anyone puked. Hey, Belle, you got that porridge started like Uncle Cash asked you?” Brad still looked tense, but he had a smile for the girls and then for Ben as he came down with the baby in his arms.
“Nope. I’m making oats.” Belle grinned at Ben, who started laughing hard, the sound making baby Branson cackle.
Brad rolled his eyes and then started laughing too, going over to Belle and grabbing her, tickling her. That got them an entire room of kids—Beth in his arms, Brenna and Brian climbing up Belle’s legs. Brad’s eyes met his, a half smile on his lips.
Cash shook his head, grinned. “Come on, y’all. Bethy, set the table. Ben, get the little ones in chairs.”
And just like that things fell into place for them all. For a few minutes anyway.
THEY GOT everyone fed. Brenna and Beth were tucked in bed together, fast asleep. Ben and Bella were playing with Branson and Brian. It was actually almost quiet. Peaceful.
Brad grabbed coffees for Cash and himself and went and found him in the den.
“Hey.” He handed the cup over and sat in one of the easy chairs, closing his eyes for half a minute.
“Hey. Janie Barlow called—apparently that’s Bella’s best friend’s mother. They want her to come spend the night. Ben’s baseball coach wants to know if he’s coming back to practice, and apparently the baby has a checkup scheduled next week.”
“Barlow…. Barlow…. I don’t know. It’s not ringing a bell. Can we let them go sleep over somewhere we don’t know the people?” Val knew them, no doubt, but this was a whole new situation for Brad. “I guess we need to decide wh
at we’re doing before we start filling out a calendar.”
“Well, we gotta let them go back to school. That gives you and me three months to make a plan, huh?”
He smiled at Cash, nodding. “Yeah. That’s where my head was going.”
“I got someone to work my place while I’m gone. How ’bout you? Your work understanding?”
“They are. I’ve arranged to work from home. There might be the odd meeting I have to do face-to-face, but on the whole, I can be here.” He took a few mouthfuls of his coffee.
“Good. Then we’ve got some time to talk.” Cash looked over at him, serious as a heart attack. “I’ll warn you, I’m dead set on not losing the ranch. It’s a beautiful piece of land; it’s been in our family for over a hundred years.”
“Yeah, well, I’m giving it a lot of thought, Cash. I meant what I said about not wanting to make any binding decisions right now, while everything is still so raw.” He finished his coffee. “I think we should take the kids at Easter. Let us all have a look.”
“The kids love it there.” Cash took a deep drink of his coffee. “I’d set you up, man. Computers, office, whatever you need.” His eyes danced over toward Brad. “Great big bed.”
Brad grinned; he’d been wondering when they’d get back to that. “Great big beds can be lonely.”
“You know it. I reckon there might be a grown-up suite. One with a lock.”
“Oho, you’re sweetening the pot considerably.” Cash was one hell of a good-looking man and a great fuck too.
“Yeah, well. Man, we got twenty years of kids to raise….”
“Fuck, man, I’m tired enough without you putting it like that.”
Cash’s laugh rang out, sweet as you please. Brad liked that sound—it made him sit up and take notice.
Twenty-four hours ago, he’d wanted to knock Cash into next week. Now he wanted to fuck him there. “You think it was a fluke?”
“What’s that?”
“Last night.”
“We won’t know until we try again.”
Brad glanced at the door, but everything was quiet. “So come here and let’s see what your mouth can do.”
“Listen to you. You think I might be able to suck cock?”