Before You

No beta. Forgive.


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Roth woke up alone in bed. His heart turned a cartwheel in his chest and he rolled out and onto his feet.

“Hey.” Adam’s voice sent a wave of profound relief through him. His lover walked into the suite from the living room. As he pulled Roth into his arms, his heart slowly recovered. “You okay?”

Roth held his lover tightly, confessing, “I thought you’d changed your mind and left.”

“No.” Adam turned his head and pressed his lips to Roth’s jaw. “I know I’ve acted like an asshole,” he murmured, “but, I wouldn’t just run out.” His hands moved over Roth’s bare back. “How’re you this morning? Any sore spots that need kissing?”

It melted him. “Come back to bed with me. It’s early and I sleep so good with you close.”

Adam stepped back, took his hand and tugged him to the proposed venue. Roth settled onto his stomach and his lover draped himself atop, holding him. “You sleep. I’ll keep away the bad dreams.”

The next time he woke, the light in the room told him he’d slept until nearly noon. Adam’s big, heavy body still weighed his down. Slowly, he turned over and held his slumbering lover. Shamelessly, he smelled his hair and touched his skin.

“You have wonderful hands.”

Roth hugged him. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Rubbing his face against Roth’s chest, he said, “I don’t mind. God, you feel so good.”

“Let’s blow off everything today and just go out for fun.”

“Really?”

Roth felt the stirring of a morning erection. His thoughts returned to the night before and he went marble hard. “Yeah. Shower with me and let’s take off.”

They ran out of hot water before they managed the more traditional shower activities. As they stood drying each other, Roth said, “It’s going to be like sixty-one and sunny today. How about something outdoors?”

“Have anything in mind?” He paused in his toweling to kiss Roth’s chest. “I left teeth marks on you.”

“We have a friend about an hour from here who has a great stable and I’ve got the keys to the kingdom. You’re from the west. Got any cowboy in you?”

“Used to. Haven’t been up in years.”

Roth watch a drop of water slide down the slope of his lover’s pec before wiping it away. “You talk the talk. Let’s do it.”

They pulled up to the security gate of Jamison Alstead’s ‘country’ residence. Roth rolled down the window and looked up the camera mounted on a stone pillar. “Hey, Harvey.”

“Hello, Doctor Garrett. Welcome back to Six Creeks.”

The gates began to open. Roth asked, “How’s that back? Been exercising and keeping the weight down?”

“Trying, sir. The missus cooks too good.”

Chuckling, he replied, “There’re worse things than having your spouse a great cook. We’re coming in. Thanks.”

He parked in the wide curved drive in front of Jamison’s ‘modest’ twenty-four thousand square foot antebellum house. Restored and updated by his late parents in the sixties, it boasted six white columns across its stately front.

“Jesus,” Adam breathed. “This guy a Swiss Banker?”

“Actually, he partners my parents in their salvage business. He brokers scrap.”

“Does Jamison even live here?”

“Maybe three weeks a year. You should see his place outside Sydney.” Roth climbed out of the car, rounded it to help out Adam. He kissed his lover, holding his face. “Any idea how much you turn me on?”

Adam leaned down and nipped his neck. Smiling, he responded, “I know how much you turn me on.”

Alonzo, the stable manager greeted them as they walked up to the airy building. Large windows in each stall and skylights created an unrestrictive atmosphere. The smells of fresh sawdust, leather, Neatsfoot oil, grain and clean horse wafted on the breeze.

“Doctor Garrett,” Alonzo held out his hand, “always a pleasure.”

Shaking with him, Roth replied. “Same here. This’s Adam,” he caught himself, and corrected his response, “Reed.”

The wiry, dark man offered his hand to Adam. “Pleased to meet you, sir. We’re real fond of the doc around here. So, any friend of his is welcome.”

“Thanks.” His gaze slid to meet Roth’s briefly.

“Who can I saddle for you gentlemen?”

Roth returned, “You know there’s only one woman for me here. Tack Bane for Adam.”

Alonzo called for a stable hand to help, barking orders in Spanish to the young man. They shared many features and stood almost the same height. Clearly, they shared heritage. Heads came out of stall half-doors, turning with curious eyes and pricked ears.

“What beautiful creatures,” Adam murmured. “Must be rusty. Can’t place the breed.”

“Because it doesn’t officially exist. They’ve been bred by my family since the seventeen-twenties. Jamison breeds his own line here. All names for wrecked vessels.”

As the manager and hand walked the two horses down the breezeway to them, Adam queried, “Isn’t it some kind of bad luck?”

Chuckling, he answered, “Alsteads like Garretts make their own luck. Meet your mount, Bredalbane, for the British barque sunk by ice August twenty-one eighteen fifty-three in the northwest passage of the Arctic. And, the masterpiece of elegant brawn currently testing Alonzo, Sultana. After the paddlewheeler downed in the Mississippi April twenty-seventh eighteen sixty-five.” He reached for the braided reins Alonzo handed him. “When’s he gonna sell me this horse?”

“Never. If he did, you’d board her closer to you. Knowing you come here comforts him. He likes the place enjoyed in his absence.”

Roth rubbed Sultana’s velvety nose as she pushed and shoved at him, making noises deep in her throat. “A fellow relentless bastard.”

Adam laughed and the sound struck Roth’s dick and heart with the same force. “Moment of truth. Let’s see if I can still hoist my ass astride.”

Putting the reins over the powerful mare’s head, he spoke. “Ever ridden an English saddle?”

“Never had much use for them, in general.” Adam gathered mane and reins and swung up with using the stirrup. “Saddles, that is.”

Roth mounted, then looked over at his lover. “You’re full of surprises.”

Adam slid his booted feet into the irons, adjusted the leathers. “Let’s go.”

They rode knee to knee, warming up their mounts. After Sultana became impatient with the restraint, Roth opened her up, keeping her just behind the bit. Bane, though full of heart, had trouble keeping pace. Adam rode like a man born astride. He coaxed more speed from the gelding, easing alongside. Roth looked over at his lover, sensing the challenge.

“Watch this,” he called, and urged the big mare to increase speed. They shot forward in an adrenaline-summoning burst. To his surprise, his lover proved rider enough to give the gelding an advantage. They gave serious chase. One of the six creeks of the properties namesake lie ahead. Roth glanced back under his arm. “He doesn’t jump well.”

Adam grinned. “Under me he will.”

Roth gathered Sultana, marking her strides and they cleared the creek with feet to spare. Alive in the moment, he absorbed the landing and looked back under his arm. Bane soared over the creek like a cross country veteran. “I’ll be damned,” he whispered. “That big tree ahead to finish,” he shouted. Giving the mare her head, he leaned lower, hand-galloping as he stood in the irons to beat his lover.