“Say hello, Mitch,” he instructed, taking for granted that I, like everyone else in his life, would jump to obey him.
“Hello, Mitch,” I growled, knowing that Slade was enjoying the exchange.
“You’re a hard guy to get ahold of, you know that?” Slade began jovially, not wasting time with small talk or pleasantries.
“I’m very busy,” I informed him grumpily. “If I wasn’t, I would have answered one of the first ten times you called.”
“What if it had been an emergency?” Slade asked, laying on the guilt trip.
“You’d have said so on the voicemail, which I have been checking.”
Slade sighed. “Fair enough. Aren’t you tired of being cooped up staring at a computer screen all day? Don’t you think it’s time to take a trip out to the ranch, see your family, get some fresh air? Maybe some sun on your face, before you turn into an albino? Nan won’t be around much longer, you know.”
“I was there last month,” I deadpanned. “It was snowing. And Nan is going to outlive us all. Not to mention the fact that she wouldn’t appreciate you using her age against me as some sort of emotional blackmail.”
Slade didn’t respond to the accusation, ignoring my protests and railroading past them with his own agenda.
“Come home, Mitch. We could use some help around here, and it’s time for you to stop playing yuppie computer programmer and give in to your roots. You have a gift, man, and we could use someone like you around here.”
“I have a job. Find someone else. You’re in Texas, for God’s sake. Cowboys are a dime a dozen.”
Not giving him a chance for rebuttal, I hung up, slamming the phone down beside my keyboard and rolling my eyes at his persistence when it immediately rang again.
I side-eyed Brody, daring him to pick it up again. He didn’t. He was stubborn but not stupid. Instead, he crossed to stand in front of me, placing his body between me and the computer and resting one large hand on each of my shoulders as he bent down to eye level.
“Mitchell,” he began, his voice laced with a warning in a tone I hadn’t heard him use since our MIT days. “It’s time for a break. This…” he waved his hand at my notebook and vaguely at the computer behind him “…will all be here when we get back. After lunch. You need some food in your stomach and a change of scenery.”
Annoyed, I pushed him out of the way, reaching for my notebook. The answer was in there. I knew it was. It was probably as simple as some swapped letters or mistyped commands.
“I’m not hungry,” I growled.
Before I could stop him, or even see it coming, Brody used his brute strength to haul me out of the chair by one arm. Quicker than shit, he spun me around and landed a hard swat to my rear end, leaving me gaping at him in shock.
As my mouth opened and closed like a fish, while I searched for the words that escaped me, Brody winked. “Been a while, hasn’t it? It’s still effective, I see.”
A while was an understatement. Years were more accurate.
Still at a loss, I glowered at him. “Not so much,” I argued, even as I marveled about how much sting he managed to pack into that one swat. His morning workouts were not for naught.
“Really? Is that so? Should we test that theory? Do you want to find out how I feel about liars?” Brody challenged.
I wasn’t sure what exactly had spurred this sudden change in our dynamic, but I wasn’t stupid enough to argue with Brody once he had his Dom hat on. Our history together was long enough that I already knew how that would end. Not seeing a choice, I grabbed my jean jacket off the back of my chair and shrugged into it, heading for the door, with Brody at my heels, snickering softly, apparently pleased with himself.
We were silent as we made our way down the dimly lit hallway, but as soon as the elevator door closed behind us, Brody looked at me, his eyes dark and foreboding, yet twinkling with mischief.
“Good to know I’ve still got it.”
Brody
My palm twitched with the memory of the hard smack I laid down across Mitchell’s tight derriere. I could still feel the curve of his ass against my open palm. The simple gesture had been automatic, but it awakened a desire that had been squelched for far too long.
I needed to lay someone across my lap and air my frustrations across their ass as they moaned and writhed against me, my cock growing harder with each delicious wiggle. I wanted to watch milky white skin turn red under my palm, until it was hot to the touch. Lastly, I needed to plunge my cock into a tight hole between two tight and bright ass cheeks and fuck someone’s brains out until we both came with a fury that left us spent and breathless.
Man. Woman. It didn’t matter. Either would do. If Mitch didn’t lighten up and agree to my plan, he was as good as offering himself up as sacrifice to my growing needs, and he knew it, too. If he didn’t, he was about to.
We exited the elevator, and I guided him out of the building with my hand pressed against the small of his back, removing it once we pushed open the main door and walked into civilization, for what I swear must have been the first time all week. I could have kept it there, or even held his hand all the way to the café, I didn’t care one bit, and it would keep him from trying to escape. But Mitch wouldn’t have liked it. I was the only one on this earth who knew of his tendency to swing both ways.
I was also the only male he happened to swing with, and it had been that way on and off for the last twenty years. Always friends. Always roommates. Often Dom and sub, when I thought it was needed, and, occasionally, lovers. Very occasionally. Over two decades, I could probably count the number of times we were intimate on one hand. Mitch’s choice, not mine. He had never fully come to terms with that side of himself. He had his reasons. I understood them, but I waited for the day when he would accept that side of himself and be fully comfortable in his own skin, outside the comfort of our home. Most days, I seriously doubted that such a day would come.
The café was small and quiet, although very full with hipsters and students, all lost in books or busy on their electronic devices. In the early days of our start up, we often used this place like a second office, taking advantage of free coffee refills until they kicked us out.
Veering towards a small table in the back corner, I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of freshly brewed coffee and homemade bread. When had we gotten out of the habit of working here? It was much preferable to being holed up in our apartment all day every day.
I sat first and smiled as Mitch sat down carefully. Years had passed since the last time I spanked him, and I put everything I had into that one swat, determined to make it count, in case it was the only one I got.
We stared at each other in silence, a thousand unspoken memories lingering between us. Finally, he spoke. “What the hell, man?”
“You needed it,” I grunted. “And there can easily be more where that came from, if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.”
“We don’t do that anymore. And I’ve spent far too long honing my skills as a Dom to give into my submissive side. It’s buried so deep, I don’t think I could find it again if I tried.”
“I bet I could.”
“Ha,” he cackled, barely cracking a smile, but I saw the longing hidden deep beneath the scowl. I could bring him to his knees in front of me in a second, and he knew it. We both did. We also knew that if we were being honest, it wasn’t what either of us wanted. Or, it was, but it wasn’t all we wanted. I knew that we would be happiest if we could have each other and a woman, as well, but getting Mitch to be open to such a suggestion was another thing entirely. Threesomes, yes. It was on the list of things we had done.
“Tempting, but, no,” he finished, using one of my favorite lines.
“We shall see about that,” I countered, using one of his. It was the same old song and dance we had been using since our freshman year at MIT.
Knowing what was coming, he leveled me with a hard glare. “What do you want, Brody?”
My grin spread wide
across my face. I liked winning. I liked it a lot.
“I heard what Slade said—that they need help out at the ranch. I want to go. Both of us.”
Mitch’s mouth opened in surprise. “You want to go to the ranch? Why? You’ve never come with me before.”
He never wanted me to before, nor had he invited me, this time, but that was irrelevant in my opinion. I took my opening before he came to his senses and began the out and out refusal that I knew was coming.
“You, Mitchell Waters, are an enigma. You dress like a metrosexual business man, hang with hipsters, and talk like the lone ranger. Even after twenty plus years of friendship, your past is a code I have yet to fully crack, and I see an opportunity has presented itself. More importantly, you need a break. This project has worn you down and turned you into a shell of a man. You barely eat or sleep, and your eyes are permanently red from staring at the screen all day, your stress level is through the roof, and I can’t even remember the last time I saw you crack a smile. I’m done sitting here watching you work and stress yourself into an early grave, you hear me? Finished.” I pulled out my Dom voice and raised my eyebrows so he would know I meant business.
I watched in satisfaction as his eyes widened and his jaw locked tight before I continued. “Mitch, I know you think the world is going to end, if we can’t figure out this coding glitch and get the app up and running. I get it, I do. It’s hard to see years of blood, sweat, tears and all our savings swirling down the drain, but we are young, and we are MIT graduates, and the world is still our oyster, so to speak. We have options, and a nice working vacation at the ranch while we lick our wounds is currently our best one.”
A soft sigh erupted from his lips, but he said nothing. That was fine, because I had enough to say for the both of us.
“We either go lick our wounds at this ranch you call home, or we stay home in New York and my belt licks your ass.”
Mitch raised his eyebrows at me a second before he exploded into raucous laughter that shook his whole body.
“What’s funny?” I questioned. “That wasn’t a joke, you know. I’m dead serious. I’m in the mood to Dom someone, and if it has to be you, so be it.” I much preferred domming him to domming a stranger, even a female one, but he didn’t need to know that.
Mitch shook his head, holding up a hand in front of him, as if to halt my threats. “I’m just trying to picture your citified ass mucking out stalls or riding a horse or being of any use whatsoever out there. Have you ever even seen a horse?”
“Phshaw.” I laughed off his teasing. “I told you I’m in the mood to Dom; I bet I can tame a horse with a simple cock of my brow. Poor horse won’t see it coming.”
Mitch shook his head, his shoulders still vibrating with laughter. “You’re good, Brody, but you’re not that good.”
I watched as he stroked his chin thoughtfully and knew I had him right where I wanted him. Sometimes, a good threat or two and a single swat could make a world of difference. Still, I knew it would take more than that to get him to see things my way.
“We can work from anywhere, Mitchell. Our lease is up soon, anyway.”
He didn’t respond.
“I heard what Slade said. Nan isn’t getting any younger. If you don’t go, you might regret it.”
Mitch drummed his fingers on the table. “I know what you’re doing,” he accused.
I grinned. I didn’t need to respond. I knew I was winning.
He sighed. “And I’m going to let you do it.”
“You always do.”
Mitch shook his head, chuckling, and slammed his open palm down on the table between us. “All right, city slicker. Buckle up, and get ready to ride. I’m going to enjoy making a cowboy out of you.”
Chapter 2
Mitch
I honestly don’t know how I let Brody talk me into these things, but I always do. A moment of weakness or a desperate attempt to keep his hands off my ass and my mind off the memories of what it was like to have his hands on my ass. He was the only person on God’s green earth who knew I swung both ways, and I wanted to keep it that way. I definitely swing farther in the opposite direction than in his direction, and as far as I knew, the same was true for him.
At any rate, I knew he was hoping to find a woman to keep him company in what he called the Wild Wild West. If, for some reason, he couldn’t, I was simply a consolation prize. But let’s be real. Brody was a walking, talking chick magnet. If he wanted a woman, he could have twenty.
And he usually wanted twenty. Brody attended an all-boys boarding school in the city. I was pretty sure that was where he picked up his bisexual tendencies. I didn’t know from experience, but Brody swore that boarding schools were just breeding grounds for sexual deviance and experimentation. Whatever they were, they had turned Brody into the quirky, lovable hardass Dom that he was today.
“Oh! A gas station, pull over!” Brody exclaimed, nudging me in the elbow.
I frowned at him, keeping my grip tight on the wheel.
“We just stopped,” I protested as I slowly eased the truck off the road. “Do you need to take a leak again? If so, you might want to get that checked out. You pee more than a pregnant woman on a saline drip,” I teased, unconcerned. We had been on the road for days, as Brody insisted on driving, for some godforsaken reason.
Brody glowered at me darkly from underneath the brim of the large cowboy hat he had insisted on buying at our last stop.
“Very funny. I need libations. Chips, soda, jerky, snickers bars, donuts.”
“There’s plenty of food at the ranch,” I assured him, shaking my head. Brody’s sweet tooth rivaled no other and he consumed junk food like it was going out of style. He couldn’t live without a copious stash of sweets and other junk. Another quirk left over from his boarding school days.
“In fact, if I know Nan, she has Blake out stocking the fridge, right now, and running to the bakery so she has cookies to serve us this afternoon.”
Brody perked up at the mention of cookies, but still looked slightly skeptical.
“I don’t know what they are going to feed a city boy like me out here in the sticks. My stomach was not made for eating beans for every meal.” I laughed, because I knew it was the truth.
“They just hired a cook,” I reminded him laughingly.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Brody argued. “If we get snacks now, we won’t be running around town in the middle of the night trying to find a store that’s open.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say, then,” I agreed jovially, putting the truck in park in front of the small quick mart.
Brody unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the truck. “Dude, we’re like fifty miles from the nearest Starbucks. I can’t survive in these conditions, you know. What were you thinking, dragging me out here?”
The entire exchange was comical, but that was too much.
“It was your idea! You practically forced me!” I hollered, gaping at him.
Brody just winked at me as he shut the truck door and ambled into the market.
I sat in the driver’s seat, shaking my head and chuckling. Getting me riled up was one of Brody’s favorite pastimes. Movement from the car next to us caught my eye, and I looked over to see the driver talking to herself in the rearview mirror as she sipped from an oversized paper cup with the quick mart logo on it . She was pretty and young, with an air about her that was oddly familiar. She was also thoroughly engaged in what looked to be a very heated argument with herself. Watching her felt like eavesdropping, even though both our windows were rolled up, and I couldn’t hear a word she was saying.
Still, I couldn’t seem to force myself to look away. Long, strawberry blonde curls hung down her back and bounced as her head bobbed each time she spoke.
I cocked my head to the side as I watched her and wondered if maybe she was on speaker phone with someone. She wagged her finger at herself in the mirror, then tossed back her head and laughed. I imagined her laugh to
be soft and melodic, like wind chimes.
Brody came out of the market, his arms full of bags, and tossed them onto the seat between us. It looked as if he bought out the tiny market. I shook my head. Damn city slicker.
“Are you ready now?” I asked with a laugh as he squeezed his large frame between the pile of bags and the window.
“Yeehaw!” he answered, slamming the door.
I rolled my eyes and glanced at the car beside me once more. The woman in it took one last long sip from her drink, before placing it in the holder in the center console. I felt inexplicably bereft when, finally, she put the car into drive and pulled away. I caught sight of her out of state plates in the rearview mirror as she backed up, wondering if there was a chance I would run into her again. It might make the whole thing worth it.
Holding back a sigh of disappointment, I pulled the truck onto the highway. It was time to go home.
The drive was short, and I knew Nan would be waiting for us. Unless, of course, Brody’s stop made us late and her soaps had already started. Her soaps waited for no man.
April
It was extremely depressing how easy it was to pack up my entire life and leave for Texas in a matter of seven days.
Quitting my job had been the only thing that gave me any pause at all, and even that had gone too smoothly. I told myself that didn’t matter anymore and this was my second chance. The only problem was I also told myself that I was behaving like a spoiled brat and that my life had been perfect and who in the hell was I to even need a second chance?
Anyhow, regardless of my second thoughts, I was now sitting at a gas station ten miles outside of the ranch. A mere ten miles separated me and everything I had ever wanted. Well, almost everything, anyway.
Spring Fever Daddies Page 2