Clouds and Rain

put his finger on what exactly made it so hard to be in the same room with Gable. The food was good, though, much better than what he could afford to get himself in the diners he passed along the way. Gable seemed to agree, although Flynn tried not to smile when he saw Gable trying to sneak the cucumber from between the layers of the sandwich without him noticing it. Flynn, in turn, fed Bridget the scrap of ham he‟d put aside while he was doing the dishes. All of the dishes, not just the ones they‟d used.
    By the time they went outside again to tend to the stables, the kitchen looked much better than it had when they‟d walked in an hour earlier.

    FLYNN really enjoyed this job.
    He was pretty much his own boss. Gable didn‟t interfere with what he was doing, and, despite his gruff exterior, he was a quiet, calm man. They‟d divided the chores up pretty much without talking. Gable did all the things he could do sitting down or on horseback. He‟d take care of the saddles and bridles, fix a hinge on a door, ride around the paddocks checking for fences that were down. He‟d muster the horses when they needed to be moved and Flynn would hold the gates open and make sure they were closed after all the horses had passed through.
    All in all, they made a pretty good team.
    Flynn knew that if they wanted to sell some of their horses at auction, they‟d need to train them—some of them weren‟t even used to a bridle and a saddle yet—and he hadn‟t seen much of that in the week he‟d been there. He‟d often seen Gable ride among the herd in the higher paddock, and had sometimes seen him touch the animals, stroke their backs, or even talk to them, but they‟d never worked with the horses individually, and this worried Flynn. He just didn‟t know how to strike up a conversation with Gable to introduce the subject.
    Gable‟s limp wasn‟t getting any better; in fact, Flynn feared it was actually getting worse. He‟d suggested visiting a doctor once again and had been snapped at, then given the silent treatment for the rest of 7

    Zahra Owens

    the day. As a peace offering, he finished his chores early so he could rush home and make dinner. He had yet to meet a man who could resist his vegetarian lasagna, even those who felt a meal wasn‟t complete without meat.
    “Go and take a shower first. Dinner will take another twenty minutes or so,” Flynn told Gable when the older man finally came into the house. Gable didn‟t answer, simply nodded, displaying his most nondescript face as he moved to the back of the house.
    Flynn knew Gable preferred the outside shower, not in the least because it saved him a trip upstairs. In the evening, the water from it was at the perfect temperature, having been heated by the sun all day, but even on an overcast day, Gable would always use that one. It was just a shower head leaning against the back of the house, with shrubs planted around it so nobody could look in, at least not from outside the house. From inside, it was easy to watch him from the shadows of the back door.
    Flynn had spotted Gable‟s naked backside on his second day there, as the older man was stripping to get washed. He‟d bent down to wrap some plastic around his injured leg, but that was not what had drawn Flynn‟s attention. He‟d been enthralled by the sinewy body, the strong, lean back, and when the man turned around under the spray, eyes closed and clearly enjoying the water, Flynn had felt his jeans grow tight. He watched Gable‟s hand rubbing through his chest hair and down his stomach to his groin.
    This was just the sort of body that turned Flynn on no end, and he‟d felt far too few of those under his hands lately. That day was the first time Flynn had rushed into the tiny downstairs toilet to release the tension. Now he didn‟t do that anymore. Now he knew Gable‟s washing ritual and knew how long it took for the man to dry off and get dressed again. Nobody ever came to the ranch, and from where he was standing Gable couldn‟t see him either, so he felt confident enough to insert his hand into his jeans and rub himself. When he saw Gable wipe the suds between his legs and repeat the action a few times, seeming to hesitate for a moment when he realized he was growing hard and then taking himself in hand, a soft moan escaped Flynn‟s mouth. Oh, what he would do to be allowed to touch that body, to be that hand, touching 8

    Clouds and Rain

    Gable‟s cock. Flynn barely dared to touch