Taking a deep breath, Oliver stepped out onto the porch. He stood still, waiting for the cop to give him an order. The last thing he needed was to give some authoritarian the power to take him to jail. He’d dealt with similar situations in his youth.
“I’m Sheriff Ramsey.” He stepped back, placing his cowboy back on his head. “Can we have a moment to talk about the incident tonight?”
“Sure,” Oliver murmured before clearing his throat and speaking to them in a stronger voice. “Can you guys give us some privacy, please?” He didn’t want the others to hover and try to play protector. The front door closed quietly and Oliver stayed in the same position.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the porch swing?” The sheriff tilted his head toward the other side of the porch and Oliver followed his request.
Oliver sat down on the porch swing, his back rigid and his face carefully blank. He hadn’t been expecting law enforcement to show up so quickly, but in a small town, he couldn’t be that shocked.
He’d gone to the bar to relax and drink with the others. Since he was going to be living and working on the ranch for a full year, he thought it best to spend some time getting to know his half-brothers. There wasn’t supposed to be a fight. He hadn’t gone there looking for trouble, but that all changed when Robbie and Cody were coming off the dance floor. A man, Sam Caine, went after both men and Oliver jumped in, throwing the first punch and starting a bar brawl. He didn’t regret his actions, but he sure as hell knew he was going to regret the consequences.
“Mr. Davis,” the sheriff said, gaining his attention.
Oliver looked at him, making eye contact, and was momentarily lost in his kind brown eyes. His eyes are brown. From the angle at the top of the stairs, he hadn’t been able to see the exact color, but this close, Oliver realized the man had beautiful eyes.
“Oliver is fine.”
“Okay, Oliver.” Sheriff Ramsey smiled and gave a nod. “Can you please tell me what happened at Marilyn’s tonight?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Oliver didn’t want to confirm or deny anything until he knew what the sheriff knew. With his past, Oliver had learned to keep his mouth shut and wait to hear all the facts before volunteering additional information.
“There was a fight tonight and there are a few reliable witnesses that said you started it. Do you have anything to add before the report is filed?”
“Am I being charged with something?” He asked.
“Look, Oliver, cut the crap. Why did you attack Sam Caine?” The sheriff’s soft eyes turned hard and the kind face disappeared. “Or are you just a troublemaker? I ran your name. You’ve got a record and a history of fighting dating back years.”
As well as prostitution, Oliver silently added inside his head.
The man stood straighter, towering over Oliver as he sat on the porch swing. The “nice guy” vanished, replaced by the “bad cop.” Oliver had been in this situation before. It seemed that all cops were the same. Smirking, he raised a brow. Fuck you.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have me confused with someone else.” Oliver shrugged.
“That’s it, get up.” Oliver followed the sheriff’s orders, standing. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back. I’m placing you under arrest.”
Taking a deep breath, Oliver reluctantly obeyed. Cold metal bracelets caressed his skin, clicking into place. The sheriff gripped his bicep, turning him around before leading him toward the patrol car. Opening the back door, he palmed Oliver’s skull, putting him inside the car. The door slammed and Oliver interlocked his fingers.
The sheriff left him inside the car and strolled back toward the house. Robbie pulled the front door open. He took one look at the sheriff before making eye contact with Oliver in the back of the patrol car. Oliver watched the two men talk for a few minutes, wishing he could hear what they were saying. After a little while, Mr. Uniform came toward him. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and started driving down the long gravel road.
Leaning his head back, Oliver closed his eyes, hoping the good sheriff wouldn’t want to chat. In the past, when he’d had run-ins with the law, they expected a little exchange of favors to drop the charges. Oliver could get down on his knees or bend over. He wondered when this little charade would end. Would the cop pull over on some dark, deserted road, or would he take him all the way to the station? Either way, it didn’t matter.
Hank washed his body with a bar of soap that smelled like a mixture of sage and citrus. Oliver inhaled the aroma, letting it fill his head. He now knew why Hank smelled so good. Strong, callused hands started washing him and Oliver forgot how to breathe. Those magical digits moved from his foot to his thigh, slowly massaging each muscle, and Oliver’s body relaxed under the delicious assault.
“Damn, your hands are magical.”
Hank chuckled. “You think so, huh?”
“I’m giving you incentive to take all your showers with me.”
“With this treatment, I’ll never leave.”
“That’s my plan,” he murmured quietly to himself, but Oliver heard him and his heart soared, knowing that Hank wanted to keep him.
Hank gripped his ass cheeks and squeezed the muscles. Oliver couldn’t hold back his moan of approval. He knew where this was going. Hank pulled his ass cheeks apart and Oliver licked his lips while leaning forward, giving Hank better access. Using the pad of his thumb, Hank massaged Oliver’s hole in a circular motion and Oliver prayed that he would push the digit in.
A hot tongue licked up and down his crack and Oliver’s hips jerked without his permission. He pressed his ass back against Hank’s mouth as the man pushed his tongue in deep, swirling the appendage around, fucking Oliver’s ass.
“Fuck, yeah! Hank!” Oliver shouted. He gripped the wet tiles the best he could as he continued to move.
Hank kept one hand gripped tightly on Oliver’s ass and with the other, he reached between Oliver’s legs and fisted his cock, jacking his length.
“Damn it…so good…” Oliver moved forward and placed his head on the cool tiles, letting Hank set the pace. He slid a finger inside of Oliver’s ass next to his tongue, fucking him, and Oliver was sure he was going to lose it at any moment. The sensation was amazing.
“I wanna fuck you and suck you at the same time, lover.” Hank growled as he pulled Oliver’s cock down and sucked the tip into his mouth.
He fucked Oliver’s ass with his finger while he sucked his cock. He alternated between the head of Oliver’s cock and his asshole. He nibbled, sucked, licked, and ate his ass, pushing Oliver closer to his orgasm.
“Hank!” he shouted. “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock pounding my ass.” He didn’t need to convince Hank. The man jumped up from his position.
“Shit.” Hank opened the shower stall door and Oliver watched him slip and slide, trying to gain his balance. “Condom!” he shouted over his shoulder and Oliver laughed.
When the man strode back into the bathroom, the condom was already rolled onto his cock. He opened a bottle of lube and quickly applied a thick coat before stepping back into the shower stall. The glass rattled as the door slammed shut.
Hank winked and Oliver turned around, facing the tile wall once more.
Hank spread some lube on his hole before lining up his shaft against Oliver’s ass. The head of Hank’s cock slowly pressed inside, stretching him. His cock popped past the tight ring of muscle and Oliver groaned deep in his throat. Once Hank was buried deep inside him, he held his hips in a tight grip.
“Oh, God…” he breathed out.
“Oh, sweetheart, your ass is so tight.” Hank put his arms underneath Oliver’s, forcing him to stand straight up against Hank’s chest, lining up their bodies.
Hank started moving his hips, fucking Oliver hard and deep, and nothing had ever felt better. Leaning his head back, Oliver kept himself pinned to Hank’s body as pleasure rushed through his system. He could barely think. Floating on a cloud of sensation, Oliver focused on everything he felt. The hard cock pounding his ass…The strong arms holding him tight…Hank’s muscular body…