The Wild Bunch 3 Casa (5 page)

Hearing a slight sound, he turned to see a tall silhouette in the barn door. The size and posture told him it was Jason. The other man's greeting confirmed it.

"'Mornin', cowboy. It's too quiet around here today. Good thing we have some new guests coming in next week. I've got cabin fever fit to kill. Figured I'd take a little ride, see how the ranch looks--haven't been out to check things for way too long."

Jason's deep voice slid over Casa's nerves like the rough silk of suede leather. He could feel it clear to his bones. "Sounds like a plan, boss. I was thinking something similar. Mind if I tag along?"

"'Course not. You're welcome if you want to." Although he still limped slightly, Jason made his way down the wide aisle to one stall. A blaze-faced bay stuck its head over the gate, giving a soft whicker. Jason scratched behind the horse's ears and then clipped a lead onto its halter. In a few minutes, he had the gelding saddled and ready. Meanwhile, Casa had caught and saddled one of his favorites, a lanky dun.

He led him outside, swung into the saddle and then halted, realizing he probably should have waited for Jason to mount first. He tried to watch surreptitiously to be sure the other man didn't have a problem. Jason grabbed a firm hold on the saddle horn and another on the cantle, the reins gathered in his left hand. He had to stand on his right leg to get a foot in the stirrup, but with his arms for added balance, he managed. The push off to swing up showed less spring than normal, but he made it onto the bay's back.

Without a word, he turned the horse and started off. Casa heeled the dun and fell in behind. Two of the ranch dogs that were especially fond of Jason jumped up with wagging tails. They had clearly missed getting out for an early run with their hero. Casa had to admit he had, too. Few of the guests were early risers, at least by ranch standards, so the cowboys often got in a quick ride at the start of the day. Jason frequently joined them, sometimes forgoing the morning meeting in his office to pause on a ridge-top or at one of the picnic sites for whatever discussion might be needed.

Today there'd be no meeting. Other wranglers were dealing with the daily chores, routines well known to everyone who worked more than a few days at Rainbow Ranch.

Jason whistled an old tune as he headed for the hills, handling his lively mount with ease. The bay was his own personal horse, seldom ridden by anyone else. Casa and Spark had taken him out a few times while Jason was laid up, but Casa could see the gelding was feeling his oats today, barely kept from breaking into a lope by his rider's steady hand on the reins.

Casa knew where they would go even before Jason headed for the narrow riding gate into the Forest Service land. The other man managed the gate without getting down, then started up the trail to a high ridge overlooking the ranch. Casa let Jason set the pace and held his own mount back a couple of lengths to give his boss some space. That also let him watch and appreciate the easy way Jason sat in his saddle, his calm and skilled control of the restive horse, and his special kind of masculine good looks, which seemed to Casa the epitome of a real westerner.

Before long, he had to shift in his saddle to take the pressure off a growing erection. The visions that flooded his mind became almost too strong to control. He'd never wanted anything or anyone quite as badly as he wanted Jason, off limits or not. Something was going to have to give...and soon. As much as he'd hate to leave, he might have to. You couldn't get a lot of work done with a hard-on that wouldn't go away!

By the time they reached the customary stopping place on the ridge, Casa wasn't sure whether to get down or not. Jason, apparently not troubled by similar issues, dismounted from the bay. Casa's breath caught when the other man's leg wobbled a little as it took his weight when he swung down. He held his breath until Jason got his left foot out of the stirrup and on the ground, holding tightly to the saddle in the meantime.

Whew. Damn it, don't scare me like that.

Once on the ground, Jason turned to look Casa's direction. "Aren't you getting down?"

Busted. Oh, shit.
Casa allowed himself a shit-eating grin. "Sure, you caught me day-dreaming here." A bit more gingerly than normal, he swung from the saddle, trying to will his cock into submission. He wasn't sure how much longer the buttons of his Levi's were going to stand the strain. There was no hiding his condition.

Jason looked at him, a slow smile building on his rugged face. "Looks like you have a major problem there, Casa. Do we need to take care of it?"

Casa gulped. No use trying to pretend or dissemble. The evidence stood out, bold as a branding iron. He nodded. Even as the flush of embarrassment heated his face, he could not tear his gaze away from Jason's. A sparkle danced in the other man's keen hazel eyes, while a grin twitched on his mobile lips. Then he reached to rub a hand down the fly of his own jeans. Casa followed the motion with his eyes and saw, to his surprise, that Jason also sported a woody of proud proportions.

He gulped again. What he'd sensed the other day had been real, no beer-fueled fluke, much less wishful thinking. Had it only hit Jason the last few weeks or had he nursed a secret passion for a while, too?

The dun trailing behind him obediently until dropped reins ground-tied him, Casa headed toward Jason, drawn like a thirsty steer scenting water. The brims of their hats bumped as they moved together, wrapping arms around each other's bodies. Casa's gray Stetson fell to one side. Jason angled his head to allow Casa beneath his hat an instant before their mouths came together.

As kisses went, it rated right up there at the top for Casa, hot and wet, full of electric energy and starved-for-weeks hunger. Shaking and spectacular as it was, though, Casa wanted more. A hell of a lot more. He could feel his prick straining, shoving against the matching bulge of Jason's as they held each other. Denim and leather masked too much sensation, creating an intolerable barrier. They had to do something, do it fast, do it now.

They both breathed with strangled urgency when they broke the kiss at last and each took a half-step back. Without a word,, Jason began to unbutton his jeans. Casa lost no time in doing the same.

"Don't have a condom," Jason warned. "You okay with that?"

"I am if you are. We all get our checkups regularly bein' in the business we are, me and the others. I think I'm safe. And you, hell you've lived like a monk for years, far as I know."

"Pretty much," Jason agreed. "And way too long, but we can settle for a hand job now if you want. There's always later for more."

"And more for later," Casa agreed. "Without shucking our chaps and stuff, it would be awkward..." Before he could say more, Jason's hand closed around the cowboy's cock. Time and everything else stopped dead. He could not see, hear or feel anything except that squeeze and stroke, the excruciating friction of a work-roughened hand gripping him, massaging with strong fingers and sliding the skin along his aching steel-hard shaft.

Jason moved to kiss him again, this time thrusting his tongue into Casa's mouth in a rhythm that perfectly matched the strokes of his hand. Casa fumbled to find Jason's prick, grasped it, then struggled for enough concentration to return the favors he received.

Although Jason had the bad leg, Casa found himself challenged to stay on his feet. His head seemed detached from his body, while all his blood and most of his attention centered on his cock, stiff as an oak log and bucking in Jason's grip.

Hurt so good.
He really understood that phrase now.

As badly as he wanted to be giving back, he could not focus enough. Afraid he would hurt Jason because of that lack, he let go of the other man's prick and grabbed him by the waist instead--to hold onto something solid, to maintain some touch and try to keep both of them upright. He came in a rush, shooting off into Jason's cupped hand. Then he was able to open his eyes and stare back into the other man's gaze, absorbing the mixture of emotions reflected there. He fell into their hazel depths, drowning, dying and being born all at once. He'd never felt quite so alive. It was better than a great ride on a tough bull, a desert sunrise or Christmas morning when he was a kid.

After a few seconds, he sank to his knees and again took hold of Jason's dick. "I've got to do something for you," he mumbled around the first eager mouthful. "It's only right."

Jason grabbed his shoulders and held on, digging his fingers in until the grip nearly hurt. Casa didn't waste any time, but started sucking hard and fast.

"Yeah, oh yeah. Oh man, that feels sooooo good."

It didn't take long and wasn't the most finesse in a blow job Casa had ever performed, but he gave it with all the devotion and pent-up desire filling him. Jason exploded into the cowboy's mouth, and he rode out the thrusts to the end. After Casa rose, they stood a few minutes together holding on to each other for balance, for closeness, for the peace and connection the contact provided.

Finally, Jason pulled away. "Guess we need to get back down to the ranch. Spark told me he was throwing a little bash this afternoon to celebrate Lou closing on the ranch buy and the two of them making a commitment to each other, so reckon we need to get ready."

Casa drew a sharp breath of relief. He'd been struggling to find a way to tell his boss about the barbeque without letting the real reason out, without revealing Jared would be there and spooking Jason into heading for the hills before the meeting could take place.
Good thinking on Spark's part. That's taken care of. Whew.

Casa stood by while Jason mounted again, in case he had a problem. This time he sensed the other man wouldn't mind or feel diminished; it would only be the kind of care you showed for a friend, a
very special
friend. But Jason swung into the saddle easily as if he'd regained his old stamina and strength. Could be he had.

From his seat on the bay's back, Jason looked down at Casa and grinned. "This ain't over yet. Me and you have a date at the hot tub about midnight. If it worked for Spark and Lou...

"Got it on my dance card," Casa replied, unable to hold back his ear-to-ear grin.

Shortly after noon, Jason heard voices in the courtyard outside his private quarters in the main house.
Spark's party must have started.
He'd better get out there soon. Glancing in the mirror, he combed his hair, still wet from the shower, and then slipped the bolo tie over his head. The elaborate Zuni petit point turquoise-and-silver medallion gleamed against his russet-colored shirt. Grabbing his Resistol summer hat, he strode out the door, feeling only a slight twinge in his right leg now. His therapy must be working, Casa's unique brand of it the best of all.

He grinned to himself. All at once, the idea of losing Stace and Spark's services, time and company did not seem so grim. If this morning was any clue, Casa would be around for a long time, and with a partner like that, everything else should fall into place like cattle herded by a good stock dog.

The hands had all gathered in the shady central courtyard. Smoke rose in a graceful column from the big grill where Dough Boy presided like a grand potentate, keen eye on the juicy chunks of meat getting a finishing touch there. Several tables already groaned under the weight of dishes and one held two big tubs of ice, jammed with cans and bottles.

On his way to join the group encircling Spark and Lou, he snagged a bottle and twisted off the top. The first swallow of rich Mexican beer slid down his throat with chilling comfort.

Suddenly, one man in the group turned, revealing his face. Jason jerked to a stop. His heart leaped to jam his throat, stopping the second swallow. That face--almost like looking in the mirror. It wasn't--couldn't be--but yeah, it was.
Oh, fuck. I should've known. It had to happen sooner or later, didn't it, but now? I'm not ready. Can I do this?

He made himself go on walking, gulped some more beer and tried to maintain a calm expression. His attention must have alerted the other man because his head came up and his gaze slewed around to fix on Jason. The visitor's expression was a study. Never taking his eyes from Jason, he took a couple of steps away from the group. Stace started to come along, but he shook his head.

When he and Jason were about three strides apart, they both stopped. Silence fell, as if everyone stopped talking at once and held his breath. Perhaps they did.

"Jason? Jason, is it really you?"

Jason nodded, unable, for the moment, to speak. He felt like an over-wound watch, tight, tense. As if he teetered on a chasm's brink. He wouldn't swing first this time, but if the other man did... When he found his voice, the words came out rusty and dry. "Yeah, kid, it's me--your ornery ole big brother. You can kick my ass now if you want to. I'd probably even let you. It's been a fuckin' long time."

Jared blinked a couple of times. His mouth opened and shut. He waved a vague gesture at the collected group, every single one male, some holding hands or with arms around each other's waists. "But--but--when you stomped me a new asshole out there at UCLA, I thought it was because you'd found out I was gay. I mean you being an old style cowboy and all... After that, I figured if you couldn't accept me as I was, there was no use trying to mend things between us."

Jason gave a harsh, grating laugh, a sob lost somewhere in the midst of it. "No, I kicked your ass because you were frittering away your opportunity to get the education I never had a chance at. About the time I was ready to start college, Dad got sick. He needed me to stay and help run the ranch." He stopped, watching the play of emotions across the younger man's face.

"Of course, you couldn't have known since you were hardly more than a toddler when Mom took you away with her. Reckon neither of you ever looked back. But I couldn't go to school and care for Dad at the same time. I made a choice. Seemed like the right one then and it's okay now. But your trust fund was already set up as part of the divorce agreement. Even after Dad died, no worries--you had your key to success. And it looked to me like you were trying your damnedest to party that away. Hell, yes, I was pissed!"