A new ranch hand series that’s rougher than ever! Cal’s world is turned on end when the ranch owner decides to fire Brandon. If this is their last week together, though, they’re going to make it a time to remember... [Warning: explicit descriptions of oral sex, anal sex, and rough bondage!] [5k]
Deep in concentration, Cal didn’t hear the noise from behind him. He saw the shadow a split second too late, turning just as the rope landed over his head and slid down his body. The lasso was pulled tight against his ankles and his boots were jerked out from under him.
“Son of a bitch!” he said, landing on his ass on the hard playa. A cloud of dust puffed out from where he hit the ground.
“Whooee!” Brandon rode his horse up next to Cal and stopped right over him. Cal raised his hand to block out the glaring sun, seeing nothing but a halo of light around the ranch hand’s rough blond hair. Brandon hopped off the horse in one swift motion, and Cal watched his body move, amazed at how lithe the city boy had become in his time there on the ranch.
“Did you see that?” Brandon said, hands on his hips. He was in awe of himself.
“Saw it? My ass felt it,” Cal said, leaning to untie the rope from around his ankles. Brandon yanked the rope again, though, and Cal was knocked off balance back onto the ground.
“Swear to christ Imma knock you to pieces if you do that again,” Cal growled.
“That a promise?” Brandon asked. Cal moved to untie the rope but Brandon was too fast, on top of him in a second, pinning him down against the dusty ground.
“You’re a goddamn nuisance,” Cal said, struggling only halfheartedly. Brandon was stronger than he looked, and there was no way Cal was going to get out from under him. Although the man straddling him had a lean figure, his body was all muscle, hard and taut from working as a ranch hand.
“Nuisance, huh?” Brandon’s voice was teasing now, coy. “You sure you want to call a man names when he has you tied up all helpless?”
“Could get out if I wanted to,” Cal said, knowing he couldn’t. Brandon raised one eyebrow.
“C’mon,” Cal said, resorting to pleading. “Got work to do.” The sun was slipping down across the sky quickly, and if he didn’t get the herd sorted by dusk--
“No more work,” Brandon said, slipping two rough, thick fingers under Cal’s waistline. Cal gulped. Suddenly the desert air had turned his throat dry, bone dry. It didn’t help matters when Brandon shifted back and leaned his head forward, pressing a hard kiss to Cal’s hipbone.
“Jesus, Brandon,” Cal said. “We can’t--it’s not--we’re in the open.”
“Ain’t nobody around but cows and cacti,” Brandon said, his breath warm against Cal’s skin, “and they’re not telling a word to noone.”