Page 8 of Cowboy Dreams

Before my sight cleared, Sylvester ground in deep, groaned long and loud, and kinda collapsed on me, his whole big body shuddering. I let my legs fall to the bed and wrapped my arms around him. Couldn’t not, the way he’d come down on my chest like all his strings were cut. I held him while his breath puffed out in hot gasps against my neck and his cock jerked inside me.

Reality came back slowly, in the ticking of the electric heater under the window and the stickiness of my cum cooling between our chests. Sylvester was a heavy weight on me, but I couldn’t say I hated it.

“Not bad, cowboy,” he murmured against my cheek.

“Don’t get all enthusiastic or nothing,” I said as dryly as I could.

He turned his mouth to my ear and I expected a nip, but he kissed me there, and on the temple and the cheek, and kinda nuzzled against my throat. Something sang through me like a blackbird, first day of spring. I couldn’t hardly stand the sweetness so I gave him a shove. “You’re heavy.”

He moved enough to slip free of my body, which made us both gasp. Then he reached down, disposed of the condom, and settled again, his weight off my hips but an arm and a leg thrown over me like he wanted to pin me there. I couldn’t find it in me to object to being pinned, neither.

“I could marry this bed,” I said, just for something to say. Though it was an amazing bed, the right softness on top of firmness and so long that my feet weren’t hitting the bottom.

Sylvester chuckled. “The frame was my grandfather’s. I brought it into this room and got the very best mattress I could. This is the first time I’ve fucked a man in the old bastard’s bed, but I’m definitely loving it, all the way around.”

There was a thread of bitter in that humor, so I said cautiously, “I get the feeling your grandfather’s not your favorite person.”

“He kicked me and my mom out when I was ten. She fell in love with a woman.”

“Ah.”

“He was a narrow old autocrat. Destroyed everything of hers she couldn’t pack in two suitcases, and one of those was full of my stuff. Wouldn’t ever talk to her again, nor me, when I asked to come back for a visit.”

“I’m sorry.”

I felt him shrug. “It worked out for the best. Mom and Cassie raised me, and Cassie’s dad owned the hotel. We all worked for him till he retired, then Cassie took over, and when she and Mom wanted to travel and see the world, she passed it to me, free and clear so I didn’t have to try to find her in Kathmandu to get permission for changes.”

“They sound like real nice folks.”

“They’re great.” His voice softened, talking about his mom. Moms, I guess. “They’re in New Zealand right now. They invited me out there after I sold the hotel, but… I wanted something of my own.”

“You’ll find it, I’m sure.” There was a drive in him that surely wouldn’t be denied, especially with a bunch of money to back it up.

“Maybe.” He pushed to one side and rolled to face me, so I turned over too and stuffed a wonderful, downy pillow under my head to meet his eyes. He asked, “What chance do you think a dude ranch would have of working out around here?”

I blinked and tried to get my thinking parts in gear. “Middling? It’s pretty country. Not too cold in the winter, so the riding season could be April to November. Maybe a Christmas snow ride, if you had the right horses and prepared the trails.” I laughed. “And made sure the greenhorns had somewhere to warm their tender feet afterward.”

“So what’s the downside?”

“It’s awful quiet. Lakewood’s half an hour away, and even that’s not big. No fancy places to shop, really, not for city folk. A couple movie theaters that’re kinda run down. Would dude folks want to be this far off the beaten track?”

“Maybe for short stays. A long weekend, a week max. If I could make sure the food was excellent, and provide enough amenities in the house and grounds.” His voice had moved back from my drawling lover—fucker? Fuck buddy?I reminded myself we were nothing more—to the crisp business tones I’d heard that first night.

“Youwould?”

“I have this big damned house.” He gestured around. “Ten bedrooms, although I’d need more baths so I’d probably cannibalize a couple to split up for bathrooms. Big kitchen, fireplace you could roast a pig in. Land, barns, fences not in bad shape yet.”

I thought he was an optimist about the fences. A few years without tending meant lots of repairs. But what I said was, “I don’t recommend pig roasting indoors.”

He laughed. “Figure of speech. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about it. Using the place instead of selling up. I’m too young to be retired. I need a project, and since I got back here I feel… connected again. Rooted, in a way I haven’t since I was ten. My mother loves travel, and she felt stifled in the hotel. But I always wanted one place to belong.” He laughed again, though it sounded a bit fake, like he was throwing off the mood. He set a hand on my naked hip. “And there’s no beating the local scenery.”

I shifted out from under his hand. “So maybe you should do it.”

“Maybe. I know the hospitality part. I even know a chef who might be willing to come work for me. He was at the hotel, quit after six months of the new management, and I know he hates where he is now. He and his wife have six kids, and he talks about wanting to raise them back in the country like he grew up, but there’s not a lot of call for Michelin stars outside the cities.”

“Sounds like you have it planned out.” I wasn’t sure why my throat felt tight.

“But not the ranch part.” He brushed his damp hair off his forehead. “If I was having five to ten guests, how many horses would I need, to be sure of mounts for them? How few cattle could I get by with to give them a cowboy experience, but not divert too many resources to cows I’m not really interested in?”

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