Riding Ryder

by Raven McAllan

  “Phew,” he said finally, arms shaking with the tension of holding himself slightly away from Caleb so Caleb was not too uncomfortable. Now he knew he had to move. Gently pulling out, he removed the condom and put it into the plastic bag he had had the foresight to put next to the bed, before tossing it in the bin, He rolled onto his back next to Caleb, breathing deeply, totally replete. Rousing himself, he turned over to untie Caleb. He was grabbed and kissed very thoroughly before being hugged and held close.

  “Well?” he asked lazily, playing with the long, dark hair now lying across his chest. “God, I love your hair.”

  “Well,” said Caleb, hugging him back. “I love you.”

  Oh my. “And back, love, and back.”

  Chapter Seven

  Caleb knew he would never feel so complete again. His life, by necessity, had been a solitary one. Not lonely, because he had many friends. But alone. Now maybe, just maybe, the gods had answered his subconscious, blessed him, and given him someone to walk through life with him. He hoped Logan could cope with his job as he said he could. Only time would tell, so he wouldn’t go there now. Now he was going to enjoy the moment, lying replete next to his lover, wrapped in each other’s arms. He relished the feel, the sense of oneness as they held one another. He could feel Logan playing idly with his hair and couldn’t resist reading his thoughts.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Ca-leb.” Logan’s voice was reproachful. “For once, just let me say it before you sense it. Yes?”

  “Yes, all right. But I’m going to say it as well. I love you. Too soon? Maybe. True? Oh yes. Am I pleased? Definitely. It’s making me very happy.”

  Logan moaned. “Damn it, Cal. I wanted to say that. Well, I’m gonna say it anyway. I love you, Caleb Ryder. And I’m so happy.” His stomach rumbled. “And bloody starving. Don’t you feed your lovers?”

  Caleb laughed as his tummy joined in the chorus. “That’s ‘lover.’ Singular. And, um, no. I’ve not had lovers, here or anywhere. Good friends whom I have had sex with, yeah. Lovers, no, not until now. So, lover.” He swatted Logan lightly on the butt. “Move your ass, and let’s get food into you.” He could sense Logan’s bewilderment and tried to explain as best he could. He pulled on a pair of jeans, leaving them riding low on his hips, and found a pair of flip-flops.

  “I have deliberately chosen not to go down the lover route because of my job. With you?” He shrugged somewhat self-consciously. “As much as I tried to ignore what I feel for you, I couldn’t; I had to be with you.” He heard Logan’s stomach gurgle. “Come on. Move yourself. Shower if you want. For me, it’s eat first, shower later. I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

  “I’m coming. I mean, I’m on my way. Oh, shit.” Caleb was laughing at him. “Let’s eat. Race you to the fridge.” Logan had pulled on board shorts and rapidly descended the stairs. Shaking his head, Caleb followed him. He knew exactly what was in the fridge.

  “Two eggs, four bottles of wine, and an apple?” Logan shut the fridge door with disgust. “Wow, Cal, high living.”

  Caleb grinned and opened the door of a tall cupboard. “The freezer is well-stocked. And no, not fast foods. I love cooking; it relaxes me. All this is made by me, and frozen for when I don’t have the time, or inclination, to cook. Like now. So,” he gestured, “take a look and choose something for us both. Obviously, I like everything that’s in there.”

  “I like everything that’s in here.” Logan gave a mocking leer as he moved toward the cupboard. “Oh wow, Caleb. Amazing.” He was silent for a moment, before emerging triumphantly from the freezer, carrying a microwaveable container. “Lasagna. Magic.”

  “Ten minutes on high, then. Wine?” Caleb took a bottle of Chenin Blanc out of the fridge, watching Logan as he took the wrapper off the lasagna and placed it in the microwave, set the time, and started the appliance.

  “Are you going to tell me you don’t know what my answer is gonna be? Come on, Cal, you’re slipping.”

  He poured them each some wine. “Ah, but I love hearing those sexy little undertones in your voice.” He lifted his glass and tipped it toward Logan. “Cock-rousing.”

  “I don’t need your voice for that to happen. My cock rises just by looking at you.” Logan raised his drink in return. “A toast. To us. May it always be so.” He touched his glass to his lover’s.

  “Always,” Caleb agreed. “To us.”

  They ate companionably, sitting side by side on tall stools, as the evening darkened, and its shadows enveloped them in their own personal haven.

  “I love this time of day, as light fades and secrecy creeps in.” Logan sipped his wine. “We’re all alone, happy and secure in our warm little world.”

  Caleb knew exactly what he meant. “So, lover, shall we take a walk around that secure little world of ours before we go to bed? To sleep.”

  This time, Logan laughed at him. “Spoilsport.”

  “Well, I didn’t say we had to just sleep, just that we needed to at some point.” He didn’t add that the morning would see them travelling across the country. No point in bringing that up yet.

  They walked out into the garden, hand in hand, Caleb grabbing the bottle of wine and their glasses with his free hand. All around them, the scents and sounds of the evening were on the night air. An owl hooted, to be echoed a few seconds later from a different direction. The night-scented stocks perfumed the air with their fragrance.

  Caleb turned to Logan and held him tightly. He couldn’t put into words just how apprehensive he was about their future. “Let’s go in,” he said urgently. “Let’s go to bed.”

  He almost dragged a bewildered-looking Logan across the grass. The bottle and glasses fell unheeded to the ground, the remains of the wine draining into the grass. He was virtually running in his haste. He felt Logan pull on his arm, hard. He stopped reluctantly.

  “What the hell, Cal? Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. One minute we’re strolling as lovers do, hand in hand, happy, loved-up. The next, you’re dragging me caveman-style across the lawn, as if the hounds of hell are closing in. What the fuck is up? Please, please tell me what is wrong. Please?”

  Caleb looked at him, chest heaving with emotion. “I’m scared, Logan. Shit-scared that what we have will get fucked up. I don’t know how the hell I will cope if it does.”

  Logan let out his breath with a silent whistle. “Look at me, love.” He took Caleb’s face in his hands and kissed his lips gently. “The only way our relationship will get fucked up is if we let it. I’m not going to let it happen, and I’m damn sure you aren’t either. Yeah?”

  Caleb nodded slowly. “Yeah. But…”

  “No buts, Cal. No buts. Now let’s go to bed and sleep. As they say, tomorrow is another day.”

  “Yeah.” Caleb turned and they reentered the cottage. He locked the door behind them. “It sure is.” He took a deep breath. “Tomorrow we go to the house.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah indeed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Caleb was doubtful either of them slept much. Their lovemaking had been soft, gentle, and very, very loving, as they had fondled and caressed each other to an emotional climax. After showering together, they had climbed into bed and into each other’s arms, ostensibly to sleep. But he knew Logan did nothing but doze on and off, and he had done the same. Wearily, he looked at the time. Ten past five. Oh, how he needed to sleep. He had clients arriving that evening and knew they would require a lot of attention. He would need to be awake and alert for them. It would be short-changing them otherwise, unprofessional. Something he refused to do.

  “What time is it?” Logan’s voice was husky.

  “Just after five. Try and sleep.” He kissed Logan’s neck and hugged him.

  “Why? You aren’t.”

  “I know, but I wish I was.”

  “Well, tough shit. But hallelujah. You’re awake, I’m awake, and oh my, they are awake.”

  Logan’s hand, soft but firm, closed around his burgeoning dick.
He mimicked Logan’s action. “Well, so they are. Better give them a reason for being awake then, eh?” He rolled and pinned Logan to the bed, moving his hand up and down his lover’s cock. “Oh, I think he likes this.”

  “Yup, sure does.” Logan repeated his earlier actions, ministering to Caleb’s cock with a firm stroke.

  Their mouths met and fused. Tongues swirled, lips nipped. Time passed in a haze of passion. He felt Logan harden, stretch, and quiver as he caressed him. Logan’s touch, sensual and demanding, brought him to the very edge of climax. He didn’t need to mind-read or hear Logan’s moan of “sheesh, now; it’s now”, to realize he was also close to coming. Their climaxes were as near to simultaneous as they could be. Gradually, coming down from his high, he relaxed. He fell into a contented doze; feeling his partner reach that same sated state was the best way to guarantee relaxation.

  “What time is it, Cal?”

  “Huh?” he asked, his voice sleep-laden.

  “The time? It’s very light.”

  “Fuck.” He looked at the clock. “Half past nine. Bollocks, we need to move.” He sprang out of bed, his dick swaying in its best early-morning hard-on.

  Logan was staring at him in amazement. “I thought you said fuck, Cal. That’s not fucking. That’s hitting the ground running.”

  “Yes, well, we need to be back at the house by two at the latest.” He saw the look in Logan’s eyes, reading the stoic misery there. He could have cut his tongue out. Reality with a bump.

  “I’ll get up, then.” Logan’s voice was noncommittal. “As in up out of bed,” he said, forcing lightness into his tone. “The rest of me is already up.”

  Ah well, the day could only get better. Maybe. If Caleb had been superstitious, he’d have crossed his fingers. Instead, as he waited for the coffee to percolate, he watched a column of ants make their way across the patio. A good omen maybe? Ants had patience and perseverance, and a devotion to duty. So did he—usually.

  They were in the car less than an hour later. He had called at the farm on the way, said very little as he got back into the car and started the engine. He knew Logan wanted to know what he had spoken to Johnny about, but kept silent. How do you say you had told the man next door that Logan might just turn up, by himself, if everything got too much for him at Greykirk?

  “So how long is it to get to your house, then?” He could tell Logan was trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the car. He deliberately followed suit.

  “Couple of hours. We’ll be there in time for lunch.”

  “You cooking?”

  Caleb smiled. “No, too busy there.” Bugger, feet in mouth again. “I have a brilliant housekeeper named Doris. She keeps telling me she wants to be a Dominatrix, and I won’t let her use her natural abilities.” He laughed as Logan chuckled. “I told her I’ve no idea how good she would be as Doris the Dominatrix, but she’s too bloody good as Doris the Housekeeper to let her change professions. She’s also my sister, but don’t let on I told you. I usually tease her by just mentioning the D the D stuff, not our relationship.”

  Logan snickered. “I won’t, you bugger. Poor woman, you might be stifling her creative urges, denying her her natural niche in life.”

  “Once you’ve tasted her baking, you’ll be all for denying her as well. Ah well, I’ve told her that if someone specifically says they need a female Dom, I’ll consider her.”

  Logan was amused. “What did she say to that?”

  “She threatened to put an ad in the paper for a volunteer.”

  “Oh my God, what a woman. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” Logan grinned. “She sounds great.”

  “She is; you won’t be disappointed. I promise.” Caleb thought it would be interesting to see what she made of his lover. Something he had never involved in his life before. Doris was a good judge of character, and never hesitated to speak her mind. Her opinion would be worth waiting for.

  It was. And he didn’t have to wait long.

  She looked Logan up and down. Then again. Caleb could see him squirm, see his thoughts.

  “Yes, she would be a good Madame D, wouldn’t she?” He grinned and laughed at Doris’s expression. “But cooking comes first.”

  “Ha, I’ll cook your goose, if you’re not careful, Caleb,” Doris threatened. “In more ways than one. Stop embarrassing the man.”

  “And you’re not?” Caleb asked her. “Giving him the twice-over like that?”

  She chuckled. A tall, attractive blonde, she was easy to imagine in thigh-high leather boots, stroking a whip. “I’m just checking he has all the right attributes for you.”

  “Do I?” Logan interjected, his voice full of mirth.

  “Oh, I’d say so, wouldn’t you? Now, are you sure you wouldn’t like a session with a Dominatrix?”

  “Alas, quite sure.”

  “Bugger. Ah well, I’d best go and take the fruit cake out of the oven.” She giggled, not at all offended. “Caleb, there’s a pile of messages waiting for you. It’s about time you got a P.A. In an office capacity, that is. I can see you’ve got one in a personal capacity.” She rolled her eyes suggestively.

  “And an in-office one. Logan is going to take over the admin for us. He understands my work, and even though I’ve only known him for a short time, I trust him.” Caleb couldn’t describe to Doris the gut feeling he had that Logan was the right person, the only person he wanted working with him. “Let’s face it, in this business, I couldn’t employ just anyone, however good their credentials were.”

  Her reply was a heartfelt, “Thank God for that. You’ll see Connor and Bain are coming back next week. Just for old times’ sake, they said. The other queries I’ve put into an email folder for you, well, I guess for both of you now. Right, cake.” She turned and disappeared through a nearby door.

  “Phew, what a lady,” Logan observed. “You must let her get a shot of being D the Dom, Cal. It’s cruel not to.”

  Caleb shook his head ruefully. “Not our thing here. And Doris in Dominatrix mode would scare even the most hardened sub. Right.” He sobered. “Let me show you our home here, and then I’ll explain what happens next.”

  Walking along a narrow corridor past a door with a sign on it stating ‘Office,’ he waved toward it. “Show you later; computer and stuff are in there.”

  “Nice big, clear desk, I hope.”

  “Wash your mouth out.” Caleb tried to match Logan’s playful mood. “Desks are for working at.”

  “Oh, I’ll work hard at what happens on that desk; that’s a promise.”

  Caleb laughed. “I’ll look forward to it.” He opened a door marked Private. “This lift only goes to our flat.” Oh, it’s so good saying “our” and not “my.” He waited until Logan followed him in and pressed a series of numbers on the lift’s wall. “Security code. We’ll change it weekly. For this week it’s 4-1-7-2. Always random.”

  “Hell, do you always remember them?”

  “Mostly, but if not, there is voice recognition override.” Caleb grinned. “It depends on, er, how with-it I am. But don’t worry. We’ll program you in later.”

  The lift stopped, and the doors opened to a narrow, rectangular room. Ahead were ornate double doors that Caleb unlocked and threw open with a flourish.

  “Lounge,” he said, indicating the large, light-filled room, furnished with quality antiques. “Kitchen, dining room to the right. Here, a cloakroom, and here—” he opened another door, which led into a short corridor, “guest room on the left, and now, our room.” He pushed the door, standing back to let Logan go in front of him, holding his breath, watching Logan’s expression as he took it all in. Would he like it?

  “Jeeeeez, it’s fucking gorgeous. We are going to christen that beaut of a bed?”

  “We are,” he confirmed, pleased with Logan’s reaction. “Only not now. I’m sorry, Logan, but I need to get ready for work.”

  “Okay.” Logan’s voice was resigned. “How? Or won’t you tell me?”

  “Not like
that, you idiot. I’ll always tell you what I can, when I can. Let’s face it. By the time you’ve been here a few days and are au fait with the way things work, you’ll know as much as me anyway. Well, almost.”

  “Mmm, true enough. Er, I meant to say, is there any other staff?” Logan asked. “Apart from Madame D, of course.”

  Caleb chuckled. “A couple of guys who look after the gardens—there’s about ten acres—and they do maintenance when needed. But unless it is an emergency, never when we have clients. The only people around then are Doris and me. And now you.”

  “Yeah.” There was quiet satisfaction in the voice. “And me now.” He was silent for a second. “How many clients at a time?”

  “A couple or two singles. Never any more. I need to be available for them at any time. And they don’t mix, either. This is a very private thing for people to do.”

  “And do they all achieve sexual satisfaction?” Logan asked, genuinely interested.

  “Eventually, so far.” He changed the subject. “Now if you’re okay, let’s go and grab some lunch so I can show you around downstairs before today’s clients arrive. One couple today, and another are arriving on Friday.”

  He led the way out of the room. “That’s up to the clients,” Caleb again answered an unasked question. “Some book from Monday to Friday, others just need a wee refresher, maybe a day or two. It depends on the circumstances and the people concerned. No offense, but you won’t be able to be around when they arrive. The main house will be out of bounds when we have clients, unless they specifically say otherwise. Likewise, we may or may not join them for meals, either together, or me alone. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

  There was no answer. Well, he hadn’t really expected one. Leaving the lift, they walked toward the kitchen. He could tell Logan wasn’t happy, his tension palpable, emanating from him in waves, his face tight and pinched.