Earth and Sky

although quite a vixen in bed, was your typical run-of-the-mill Midwest girl. Nothing special, but above all, very… girly. They were the opposite of what Hunter knew turned him on but had always avoided like the plague. Giving in to his urges would only end up with him being ostracized and humiliated, he’d always been sure of that. Until he’d met Grant.

    Now the memories of touching that tight body, feeling those bulging muscles ripple underneath his hands while tasting the sweat on Grant’s skin and feeling that amazing cock ramming into his body, were once again bringing Hunter to the brink of orgasm. Oh, why did it have to feel so good? Why couldn’t it have hurt more or felt more uncomfortable? Hunter knew there was no turning back now. For a moment that afternoon, while he was writing his workers’ paychecks, Hunter had tried to conjure up enticing memories of frolicking around with Miranda. And failed miserably. All he could remember was that he’d never had a problem getting an erection, but he’d always had some sort of liquor before ending up in the sack with a girl. His first time with Grant, he’d been stone-cold sober, and he remembered every single thing about it. It couldn’t have been more different than his very first sexual experience.

    Hunter had lost his virginity with a working girl. For his eighteenth birthday, Hugh’s father—then the ranch foreman—had taken him to the Bunny Ranch, a whorehouse about twenty miles outside the county line. Hunter had been given a choice of girls and had picked an angelic-looking blonde who had played her innocent-school-girl act all the way to the end. He’d been passive and shy, and she had smuggled him in some alcohol, making him promise not to breathe a word to anyone outside the room. The act itself had been over almost before it started, but at least afterward Hunter was “a real man.”

    All his other conquests had been girls just like his first one. Nice, plain, not-bad-looking petite girls who cooed and seduced and often got him drunk before dragging him to their bed. They had scratched his itch, but they’d barely been able to scratch the surface. All Hunter could say was that they were a good alternative to his own hand, but certainly no more than that.

    Now his hand brought back memories of Grant’s hand but took him back even more.

    Hunter remembered the first time the touch of a man had made him grow hard. He’d only been fourteen and overcome with grief after suddenly losing his father. He’d fled into Gable’s barn, running away from the responsibility that had been thrust upon him after his dad’s funeral. Now he was the man of the house, and he was going to have to make the decisions that kept a two-thousand-acre horse-breeding ranch afloat. He was too young for that and he knew it, so he’d fled to the one place that had always been safe.

    Gable had been twice his age at the time, but Hunter knew he could count on him. Gable had been a quiet presence at his dad’s funeral and had offered his calm, soothing support to Hunter, his mother, and his sisters. Hunter knew that Gable and his dad had been friends, like Gable’s father and his dad had been friends before the older Sutton had died earlier that year.

    That night, after Hunter had fled into Gable’s barn, Gable had held him, caressed his hair while he cried. Hunter had kept a brave face until then, but he broke down that night and poured his heart out to Gable, who’d simply been there for him, not offering solutions or instant gratification. Gable had simply assured him that everything would work out in the end.

    Hunter had believed him, had wanted to believe him, and being held by the strong, sinewy man had indeed calmed him down. Feeling the sturdy arms around his shoulders, the soft flannel of Gable’s shirt against his cheek and the hand on his hair, and smelling the mix of leather and sweat and horses had done other things to Hunter as well. As the panic and intense grief had abated, he’d felt his body react to the curious mix of tenderness and strength. Feeling his pants grow tight had raised a different sort of panic and a feeling of betrayal, of being betrayed by his own body. Although he didn’t understand what was going on, Hunter knew he couldn’t have those feelings, not now, not in the presence of another man. He’d pulled himself away from Gable’s grasp as if Gable’s hands had been on fire, and Gable had let him leave without