Carnal Compromise

by Robin L. Rotham

  “Fuck!” he whispered, letting his head rest on his forearm while he stroked his dick in a furious rhythm. Had anything ever turned him on as much as the thought of corrupting an innocent-looking little farm girl?

  “You know, I’d be happy to give you a hand with that.”

  Brent’s head snapped up and his hand froze mid-jerk. Although the shower door was fogged and dotted with water, he could see Joe standing naked in front of the toilet, taking a leak.

  Shit, and here he’d thought he couldn’t get any harder.

  He closed his eyes, and seemingly of its own volition, his hand resumed its feverish pumping while his brain wrestled with the echo of Joe’s offer.

  Let him do it!

  No, don’t!

  The conflict was short-lived. Five shameful seconds later, Brent stiffened with a grunt and shot against the shower wall.

  Joe waited out the entire excruciating duration of his orgasm before drawling “Maybe next time.” Then he flushed and walked out.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Brent whispered, gasping for breath and leaning heavily against the wall so his shaky legs didn’t fold under him. This really shouldn’t unnerve him so badly. Joe had seen him naked and coming dozens of times over the last six years, and he’d seen Joe in the same position every bit as often. But it had never been just the two of them before—there’d always been a woman or two, and occasionally another man, to serve as a buffer between them.

  Sex with Joe Remke was inevitable, and as much as he longed for it, Brent hated it. Somehow he knew that when they finally fucked, Joe would walk away without a backward glance and he’d lose the best friend he’d ever had. The knowledge made him want to roar with frustration. Hadn’t he learned anything from his parents’ screwed-up relationship?

  Of course, fucking Joe might tear him apart, but at least it wouldn’t result in an unwanted pregnancy. That was some comfort. Neither of them would be accumulating a herd of children they way his mother had, children who only got to see their fathers during the summer and on alternating holidays—if then.

  And then there was AJ.

  Brent sighed as he slicked a trembling hand down the wall to wipe away the trail of semen. The woman had certainly gotten under Joe’s skin in a way he’d never seen anyone else do, and yet he didn’t seem to have any qualms about getting naked with her. But then again, he was apparently suffering an unprecedented case of blue balls. He’d gone without for longer than Brent could remember him ever doing. In fact, they both had. There was a time when the two of them would get laid in damn near every town they hit—sometimes together, sometimes not. But maybe they were just getting old and slowing down. Since that first afternoon they’d spent fulfilling Mandy’s fantasies three years ago, it seemed like their casual lays were getting fewer and farther between.

  As far as he knew, Joe hadn’t been with another guy since he’d started delivering Hake’s annual ass-reaming every fall. It would be easy to let himself imagine that Joe was using his cousin as a substitute for him—hair color aside, they looked more alike than many brothers. But more likely he was just getting spoiled to the kind of imaginative, no-strings sex Hake and Mandy provided. Brent certainly was.

  AJ promised to provide the same brand of entertainment value, with the added bonus of being available on a nightly basis. There was probably a lot he didn’t know about the sex-hungry little hand, but he knew instinctively that she was too conscientious to get knocked up, intentionally or otherwise. Between the three of them, they’d more than make sure there were no unwanted consequences of their time together.

  Straightening, he grabbed the shampoo and squeezed a blob into his palm. All he had to do now was get AJ on board with their plan.

  Joe jammed his cap on his head and climbed down the camper steps, careful to not slam the door behind him. First AJ and now Brent. It was a sad day when both the people he wanted to fuck would rather get themselves off.

  The morning was sunny and calm, the air crisp enough to really wake him up as he zipped his jacket and headed down the gravel drive on foot. It wasn’t often he walked into town, but this morning he was feeling the need to work off some aggression before he said or did something he’d be sorry for later.

  When he reached the highway, he hung a right, staying close to the outside edge of the shoulder as he loped along fast enough to wind him a bit. The thump of his bootheels on the asphalt was satisfyingly loud, and he felt the rigidity beginning to seep from his neck and jaw.

  He’d been playing this game with Brent for years now, and usually he enjoyed every minute of it. Every winter he did long-haul trucking while Brent caught up with his other family business ventures, and then every spring they’d get together again and travel around the country doing custom tilling, planting and harvesting. By the time they’d shared a camper for eight or nine months, the sexual tension between them was always pretty explosive and they both welcomed the respite another winter apart would bring. It was a cycle he’d grown way too accustomed to after six years, but he enjoyed the renewal of the chase too much to end it.

  Lately, though, Joe found himself feeling more and more impatient with the boss man’s stubborn refusal to give in. The fact that he regarded the imminent arrival of winter with annoyance rather than relief was a bad sign. If he were smart, he’d just pack up his shit and leave now, while they were still friends. He’d never expected to stay with the outfit this long anyway, and if he left now, at least he’d still have…something. Someone he could actually run into a few years down the road and not feel the need to duck out of sight to head off any kind of awkward emotional confrontation. Someone he could casually shoot the breeze with once every few years. Someone he gave a shit about but wasn’t too wrapped up in.

  So why in the hell did it feel like he couldn’t leave until he’d had Brent Andersen in his bed? When had the game turned into a challenge he had to win at any cost? Generally he was a canny player who knew when it was time to fold and hit the road in search of a more attainable goal, but fucking Brent was becoming an obsession. He could have him and he knew, felt it deep in his bones, that Brent wanted him just as much.

  Joe kicked a gravel rock off the shoulder into the short, frosted grass on somebody’s lawn. Dammit, this was exactly how gamblers lost their money, their homes and eventually their families at the poker table. They kept playing long past the point of no return, risking everything good in their lives on that desperate certainty a big payoff was just around the corner. They lost sight of when the risk started to outweigh any potential gain and ended up with less than nothing.

  He had the sinking feeling he was doing that now. His brain was barking, Fold now! Leave before you lose it all! But the payoff was so tantalizing…a virgin. And not just any virgin but a masculine, attractive, intelligent virgin who’d never even thought about playing for the other team until they met.

  He’d never have another opportunity like this one and he damn well knew it. There was more silver in his hair every day, and soon he’d be too old and grizzled to attract anything but hookers.

  And then there was AJ… She dressed like a man and carried herself like a man, but damn, if he’d ever had any doubts she was a female, they’d been obliterated by the sight of her gorgeous body tangled up in his dirty T-shirt. Now there was a woman in desperate need of a man’s—or men’s—attentions, and it would be his pleasure to see that she got them. Hopefully the challenge of getting her to cut loose with them would take the edge off this suicidal determination to corner Brent and fuck the living daylights of him.

  Main Street was lined on both sides with cars and pickups, and after a quick look, he crossed to the diner on other side. It wasn’t hard to spot AJ in a booth near the front—her silky white-blonde hair stood out like a beacon in the sea of comb-overs and seed caps.

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. If Seth sat any closer, he’d be in her lap.

  Then AJ saw him and flinched, her blue eyes skittering away as color flooded her cheeks, and Seth
leaned even closer to tell her something.

  Since he wasn’t one to let another man poach his prey, Joe felt no compunction about inviting himself to join them. He ambled right up and sat down next to Tim, shoving his sorry ass into the corner.

  “Make yourself at home, Joe,” Tim grumbled.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He looked around at the three paper placemats. “What are we having?”

  “We already ordered,” Seth told him with a facefull of belligerent. “Don’t know what you’re having.”

  Joe eyed him with amusement. “What’s your problem, Junior?”

  “AJ’s all worked up over something this morning, and judging by the look on her face when you walked in, I gotta figure that something is you.”

  AJ slouched even lower in the booth and kept her eyes on the table. “Seth, don’t,” she said, twisting her water glass in circles with both hands. “Really, it’s nothing. It was my own stupid fault.”

  “That may be, but I don’t care for the way he’s lookin’ at you.”

  “Why don’t you two scram,” Joe invited with a friendly look that didn’t match the steel in his tone. “Brent’ll be right behind me, and this booth ain’t big enough for all of us.”

  Seth leaned forward on his elbows. “Why don’t you make us?”

  “Hey, now, let’s not get too excited here,” Tim injected, raising his palms to both of them in a cautionary gesture. “We’re all friends, after all.”

  “You’d do well to listen to your little brother, Junior.”

  “Chicken-fried steak and eggs, sunny side up?”

  A well-padded waitress stood beside the table, her arms loaded with plates, a question in her eyes.

  “These two knuckleheads’ll take theirs over there,” Joe told her, pointing at the empty table by the restrooms. “Hers stays right here.”

  “Now just a damn minute—”

  “Dietz.”

  “Boss.” Seth acknowledged Brent’s greeting without taking his furious eyes off Joe.

  “Joe and I had a little misunderstanding with AJ last night,” Brent said in a deceptively casual tone, “one that needs to be straightened out before we can get back to work, so I’d be obliged if you’d give up your seats and let us have breakfast with her this morning.”

  Seth stared back at Brent for a long moment, his jaw tight with resentment, before he grudgingly stood up. Joe stood too, never taking his eyes of the angry young buck as Tim slid out of the booth.

  “Enjoy your breakfast, boys,” he said as they walked away.

  Brent thumped him on the back of the head. “Joe, sit down and shut up.”

  Chapter Three

  “You guys are unbelievable,” AJ breathed as Brent slid in beside her. “Didn’t you embarrass me enough last night?”

  He waited until the waitress had set a plate of French toast in front of her and handed him and Joe menus before he said in an amused tone, “Nobody ever died of a little embarrassment, AJ.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything.” Happy to have something to do with her hands, she picked up the maple syrup and drizzled it over the toast.

  Then she set it down with a snort. “And a little embarrassment, my left foot. Getting caught doing—” she lowered her voice as heat flooded her cheeks again, “—that is every girl’s worst nightmare. Getting caught by you two...”

  Brent bumped his shoulder against hers. “Better us than the Dietz boys.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, picking up her knife and fork to slice up her breakfast. “Their respect isn’t as important to me as yours.”

  Neither man answered right away, and she steeled herself to look at them. They were both frowning at her, but before anyone could speak, the waitress returned for their orders.

  “Sorry, but you caught me off guard,” Brent finally said after she took their menus and walked off.

  “Why?”

  “Well, because respect isn’t an issue here. We all have bodily needs, and living in such close quarters makes it hard to take care of them without someone intruding once in a while. Do you respect me any less for all the times you’ve caught me on the john?”

  She blushed again, dammit. “There is a lock on the bathroom door,” she reminded him again. Neither of them had ever caught her using the toilet or showering because she always locked the door.

  “There’s a lock on the bunkroom door,” he returned evenly.

  “Yes, but that’s different. The bunkroom is Joe’s room, too, and I don’t feel right locking him out of it.” Not to mention that locking the door would feel like she was making a formal announcement: Do not disturb—masturbation in progress.

  “Let me tell you something, AJ,” he said. “You know your machinery, you’re meticulous and your work ethic is second to none. You don’t whine about getting stuck with low-man jobs, you ask questions when you don’t know what to do and you accept responsibility when you make a mistake instead of pointing the finger at someone else. In short, you’re an excellent hand and I’m hoping we’ll get you back next spring.”

  “I agree,” Joe interjected with a steady look.

  Brent nodded. “So, why would we lose an ounce of respect for you because you take care of your own needs in the privacy of your own room?”

  Their assessment of her performance added heat to AJ’s blush, though now it was pleasure rather than humiliation. As one of the few women in the male-dominated field of agribusiness, she’d always had to give 110% every single day to prove herself worthy of being called a farmer. Her own father had expected her to work twice as hard and be twice as stoic before he’d show her even a tenth the respect he showered on her brother. Being the only woman on this crew, she constantly had to walk a fine line between going the extra mile to prove herself and acting like just another one of the guys, and it was nice to know she’d accomplished what she set out to do.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t let herself relax and enjoy their company just yet. There was still one more issue, the main one really, to be confronted.

  “Why should you respect me when I didn’t respect Joe’s privacy?” she finally asked. She looked Joe squarely in the eye. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have…used your stuff.”

  “You’re talking about my shirt.”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks got hot again remembering it.

  “No harm done.” Then he grinned. “You can use my stuff any time you want to, darlin’, as long as I get to watch.”

  She froze with her fork hovering over the plate, and her heart skipped a couple of beats. Surely he wasn’t…flirting…

  Cutting another big bite, she stuffed it into her mouth, feeling even more heat run up into her cheeks. Just when she thought they might be easing into her one of those gay-guys-plus-gal-pal friendships she’d always read about, one of them had to go and say something to throw her off-kilter again.

  Fortunately, their food arrived, and while they ate, the two men talked about crop conditions and machinery issues as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, giving her a chance to study them from under her lashes. Dammit, there was no way she’d read them wrong. Even now, the sexual tension between them was palpable. Were they fighting? Was Joe using her as some kind of rebound or revenge tool to get Brent’s goat?

  She scowled. If that was the case, she’d have to kick his very fine, very gay ass.

  “So last night kind of changes things,” Brent said, wiping his lips with a paper napkin.

  Although they’d ordered at least twenty minutes after AJ, they’d all finished their breakfasts at about the same time, and now she sat there, looking torn between nerves and suspicion. What in the world was going on in that cute little blonde head?

  “How so?” she asked warily.

  “As I see it, we have three options here. One, we can all pretend it never happened and try to carry on with business as usual, though I think that might be difficult for all of us. Two, I can move you in with Seth and Tim, and if you
want, you can even switch to the other crew when we meet up in Fargo.”

  AJ wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions. Dismay flashed in her eyes and she bit her lip before asking, “And the other option?”

  “Well now,” he said, dropping the napkin in his plate. “That’s where things get interesting.”

  “Interesting how?”

  He studied her for a moment and then glanced over at the Dietz boys, who still hadn’t left even though they’d finished inhaling their food fifteen minutes ago. No way could he have this conversation with those two breathing down his neck. “Let’s get out of here. We can talk on the way to the field.”

  Waving their waitress over, he handed her a couple of fifties. “I’ll take care of theirs, too,” he told her, gesturing Seth and Tim. “Sorry about the confusion with the tables. Keep the change.”

  “Hey, you can confuse my tables any time,” she assured him with a big smile.

  After she breezed by the other table and picked up their check, Seth nodded grudging thanks but made no move to leave until Brent and Joe stood up. Brent sighed. With his luck, they’d probably ride his bumper all the way to the field. Seth Dietz had picked a hell of a day to go all responsible and protective.

  As luck would have it, Seth’s pickup was right in front of the diner while Brent’s was parked on the next block, so the boys drove past while the three of them were still walking down the street. Once they got to the truck, Brent climbed into the driver’s seat and flipped the wide console up off the bench seat before fastening his seat belt. Joe opened the passenger door and then stepped back directly into AJ’s path to keep her from opening the rear door.

  “Excuse me,” she said, trying to reach around him. She let out a squeak when he picked her up and set her on the front seat. “Hey!”

  “Slide over, honey. You’re riding up front today.”