“You know, I’m starting to think you did the exact right thing for a change. Stick it out, Peyton. You can do it.”
That made two people who believed in him—Bettina and Tex. Maybe someday he would be able to add himself to that list.
Chapter 6
The next day, Peyton made a point of being early. He would do his work—make Tex proud of him and Bettina proud of him and him proud of himself without any need for punishment. He would get the good feelings from yesterday without any of those squirrelly feelings that were a mix of pain and desire, of feeling cared for but also admonished.
And if he didn’t give Tex any reason to punish him, then maybe Tex would reward him. With a little cock, for example. Or a big cock, as the case might be. He had a feeling Tex carried a big one. The swagger gave him away. And Peyton remembered it being jammed up against his side while he’d been writhing over Tex’s lap. That had been Tex’s cock, hadn’t it? Unless it’d just been his belt buckle. Tex did wear an oversized buckle, one made of brightly polished silver which was undoubtedly hard. But the dimensions didn’t match up and Peyton knew a cock when he felt one.
So Tex was into him, and he was into Tex, and the two of them could spend the evening rolling around on the wide canopied bed in Peyton’s room once they’d made it through whatever awful chore Tex had in store for him.
His resolve lasted less than fifteen minutes.
“I don’t think so.”
Horse manure was bad enough. He wasn’t going anywhere near pig shit.
“Same deal as yesterday,” Tex said. “Dirty straw out, clean straw in. It’s a smaller area.”
“But smellier. Also, there are pigs in there.”
“They won’t hurt you.”
Peyton wasn’t buying it. That mama pig was as tall as he was and quite a bit rounder.
“No.”
Tex lifted his hat to scratch the top of his head, then resettled it more firmly. “I thought we’d made some progress yesterday, Peyton. You’re here to toughen your hide. And if you won’t do it yourself with hard work, then I’ll have to do it for you. Now, which would you rather?”
Peyton considered. “A blowjob,” he countered.
Tex goggled at him. “Was that an attempt at a bribe?”
“More like an offer. I blow you—and I’m good at it, I promise.” That was one skill he’d put some effort into learning. “—and we forget all this dirty business with the pigs and the punishment.You and I could have some fun over the next two weeks. What do you say, cowboy?”
Tex smiled at him, a full smile that warmed Peyton from head to toe with special emphasis on the area in the middle.
“Oh, we’re going to have some fun, all right. Leastwise, I am.Let’s go on up to your room.”
“Really?” He hadn’t expected that to work. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
He practically dragged Tex to the guest house and up the stairs to his room. Wait until he told Ambrose he’d seduced his way out of this stinking program. He could inspire Ambrose to try it with his own trainer, who he’d mentioned was also damn cute. It could be blowjobs all the way around.
He opened the door to his room and gallantly allowed Tex to proceed him, then shut the door and leaned up against it. Tex went straight to the bed where he made a pretty picture sitting on it. His jeans might be a bit dusty for the yellow and white quilt, but Peyton wasn’t the one doing the laundry.
“Now that we’re alone, you can have your wicked way with me,” he purred as he sauntered over. “Your options aren’t limited to blowjobs, FYI.”
“Good, because I wasn’t planning on a blowjob.”
“Ooo,” Peyton hummed in approved. “What did you have in mind, cowboy?”
He dipped a finger into the V at the juncture of the undone snaps at the top of Tex’s shirt. Yesterday, Tex had had his hands all over Peyton—well, mostly his ass—but Peyton hadn’t had a chance to return the favor. He popped a few snaps, separating the fabric to reveal a delightfully furry chest. He wanted to get his face in there and rub it all over.
“Take off your pants and I’ll show you,” Tex said.
“Going straight for the good stuff, huh? I do love a man who’s resolute.” Unlike him. He presented Tex with his backside as he dropped his drawers, stepping first out of his jeans with a shimmy, then hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jockstrap. “You want the jock on or off?”
“Doesn’t look like it’ll get in my way none.” Tex snapped one of the elastic straps framing Peyton’s cheeks, making it twang painfully against skin still smarting from yesterday’s beating.
