“I can’t believe you went back to the field.”
“Why not? It’s what you taught me. Finish the job. Keep going even when it’s hard. It might hurt, but it’s worth it in the end.”
His fingers were raw from handling barbed wire all afternoon and his ass throbbed from the whipping Tex had laid down on him earlier, but he felt pretty good. The fact that Tex had been in his room waiting for him suggested the effort he’d made in returning to the ranch would be rewarded with more than just a boost to his self-esteem.
“What were you doing in my room, Tex? Besides breaking and entering.”
“Told you I wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh huh.” He didn’t intend to make this easy on Tex. Tex had never made anything easy on him. “About the fence?”
“No, not about the fence, you shithead. About us.”
“So there’s an us now? I’m not just your client?”
“You know you mean more to me than that. I’m not looking to lose you, but I don’t know how to walk away from the ranch either.”
“Told you I can take care of us both for a bit. You’re not too proud for that, are you? If we’re going to be partners, I want to be equal partners. You’ve given me hope I can make something of myself in the future. Can’t I give something back?”
“It ain’t that.”
“Too much city for you?” He had to admit it was hard to imagine Tex at a desk job, but there were other options. “Listen, it’s not ranching, but we do have farms back east. I live in an apartment in the city, but we could change that. Buy a house out in a rural area, maybe even start a farm of our own. I don’t mind commuting.”
“That sounds like it’d work all right. Thank you.”
Peyton served himself a piece of the pie Tex had brought. Cherry.
Tex was sitting at the table with him, not eating anything, just toying with the lid of the Tupperware container the chicken had been packed in. He’d agreed with Peyton’s plan about the house and the farm, but Peyton could see that whatever the underlying issue was, it hadn’t been resolved.
Maybe Tex wanted an open relationship. Peyton had never been in one thatwasn’topen. That would have required more commitment than he’d ever been capable of, but he wanted that level of commitment now. Him and Tex, partners all the way. They would raise chickens, keep a horse. If Peyton applied himself at work, there would be bonuses and raises, enough to support a whole barnyard full of animals. They could sell cured bacon, though Tex would have to do the slaughtering. Peyton could clean out a pig sty, but he hadn’t worked himself up to killing anything yet.
Then he realized he was daydreaming, living in an imaginary future instead of doing the work that needed to be done in the present. He gave himself a mental shake, put down his fork, and said, “What’s the real issue? It’s not like you to pussy-foot around, so come out with it. Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Tex said with a scowl, but he was so focused on tinkering with the Tupperware lid that Peyton didn’t believe him. Peyton took the lid away from him and replaced it with his hand.
“What?”
“I’ve done a lot of jobs in my life, and been with a lot of men, but it wasn’t until I came here that I figured out how to meld the two halves of my whole. I don’t want to lose that, but I don’t want to lose you either.”
“So be a personal trainer. Or a motivational speaker. I feel like you can inspire people to do better without applying your hand to their ass.”
Tex scowled harder.
“Ooooh. That’s what you like. Not the ranching, not the inspiring. The spanking.”
Tex turned his face away, but Peyton took his chin in hand and turned it back. “The only way out is through, Tex. Bite the bullet.”
“Yes, damn you. I like the spanking. That crack of flesh against flesh and seeing the skin pink up, then turn red. It gets me so fucking hard.” He reached down to adjust himself, like even talking about it was having an effect.
Peyton let go of Tex’s chin and picked up his fork. Now that he understood what Tex’s issue was, he could go back to his pie. Because Tex’s issue wasn’t an issue at all. It was part of what made them so good together.
“See, that right there is why you gotta leave the ranch,” he said, pointing his fork at the bulge in Tex’s jeans. “I don’t like the idea of you getting your jollies whaling on other men’s asses. You’re going to have to limit yourself to my ass.”
Tex’s mouth dropped open. “I’m… limit, did you say?”
“Yes, limit. As in my ass is the only one you’ll be putting your hands on. But youwillbe putting your hands on it. And your cock in it,” he added, just so they were clear.
Tex waved off that last sentence. He would have expected their relationship to involve plenty of fucking, but it seemed he’d imagined the disciplinary part of their relationship would end when they left the ranch.
