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Jonah had been alone for so long, he almost forgot what it feels like to have a friend. Now not only alone, but out of work and unsure about his future, he wonders if he can ever really be the cowboy he wants to be. When Deke moves to the old ranch next door, quickly finding himself overwhelmed with work and overburdened with his own farm, Jonah jumps at the chance to help him make his house a home. But even with Jonah's incredible skill on a woodstove, neither expected the sparks to fly quite like this. This 5000 word story contains sexually explicit material, and is intended only for persons over the age of 18.
Excerpt:
When Deke stood to get another beer from the fridge, Jonah suddenly found himself on his feet behind him, hands on Deke's hips, chin over his shoulder. "I think we should take our drinks to the other room, don't you?" he said in a near whisper. The other room, Deke thought. There are only two other rooms.
Deke turned roughly to the chiseled young body pressing against his own, caught his breath in his throat. Even his own eyes widened as the words fell from his lips, "My bed's biggest."
The two crashed through the bedroom door, lips stretching to reach each other, hands grasping at hard muscles and soft skin, tearing cloth and popping buttons. Naked and panting, they fell into bed together, groping at each other desperately. Beyond words, the two grunted and groaned, pushing against each other, flesh seeking and finding flesh.
Jonah's lips covered Deke's dark skin, roaming every inch as the hard body squirmed underneath him. His fingertips traced the lines of Deke's chest and abs, curving along the edge of his hip toward his groin. With his face buried in Jonah's neck, Deke grasped at the hardness between Jonah's legs, squeezing gently. Jonah's head swam, intoxicated with alcohol and pleasure, and he rolled over, pulling Deke into him and kissing him fiercely.
Excerpt:
When Deke stood to get another beer from the fridge, Jonah suddenly found himself on his feet behind him, hands on Deke's hips, chin over his shoulder. "I think we should take our drinks to the other room, don't you?" he said in a near whisper. The other room, Deke thought. There are only two other rooms.
Deke turned roughly to the chiseled young body pressing against his own, caught his breath in his throat. Even his own eyes widened as the words fell from his lips, "My bed's biggest."
The two crashed through the bedroom door, lips stretching to reach each other, hands grasping at hard muscles and soft skin, tearing cloth and popping buttons. Naked and panting, they fell into bed together, groping at each other desperately. Beyond words, the two grunted and groaned, pushing against each other, flesh seeking and finding flesh.
Jonah's lips covered Deke's dark skin, roaming every inch as the hard body squirmed underneath him. His fingertips traced the lines of Deke's chest and abs, curving along the edge of his hip toward his groin. With his face buried in Jonah's neck, Deke grasped at the hardness between Jonah's legs, squeezing gently. Jonah's head swam, intoxicated with alcohol and pleasure, and he rolled over, pulling Deke into him and kissing him fiercely.
Used availability for McKenna James's A Helping Hand