Sam chuckled, nodded. “You want to go mess up the sheets, babe?”
“I do. Hell, I want to mess them up so bad we have to change them.” Beau grabbed him and dragged him off, caveman style.
“Ooeee!” Sam gave his best Cajun yell, cock lifting and swelling like he was a compass and Beau was his true north.
“Look at you.” Beau petted his belly, using the touch to push Sam down on the bed.
“Shit. I ain’t all that.” Beau was the pretty one.
“You’re all that to me.” Beau started working on his jeans, getting them open. His cock pushed out, needing Beau’s hands. Beau gave just what he needed, fingers wrapping around him, pulling, tugging. Made his balls draw up hard. His legs popped open like magic. Boom.
“That’s it, Poot. Gimme all of that goodness.” Beau was rocking his world, stroking him hard.
“Fuck… Beau. Beau…” His hips snapped, the room fucking spinning.
“Uh-huh. Oh, Sammy. Mine.”
“Yes!” He was gonna come so hard. Gonna… His teeth clacked together, his orgasm sudden and sharp and right there.
Beau watched him like a hawk, those eyes never leaving him as he shook and shuddered. Not even a little. It made him blush, made his chin duck, made him moan. He felt like a million fucking bucks.
“God.” Beau lifted his chin with the hand not still on Sam’s dick, kissing his mouth hard. Sam pushed into the kiss, riding Beau’s wildness. That hard cock pushed against him, Beau still wearing his jeans, still had all that cloth in the way. He scrabbled at the buckle, wanting, knowing that Beau wanted, too.
“That’s it. Touch me, babe. Now.” Beau sawed back and forth.
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, took Beau’s mouth as his fingers found that fat prick that they loved to touch so much. Beau humped his hand, gave him everything. Boom. Those heavy balls moved against the backs of his fingers.
His. His cowboy. His. He took every single thing Beau had to give.
When Beau came, it was explosive, a shout ringing out that made the dogs set up a big old bark outside. It made him feel like a king.
Sam grinned, his smile pressed against Beau’s.
Home.
Fucking A.
Chapter Eighteen
Beau stretched, feeling the late autumn sun beat down on him, getting right into his bones. It was a damned fine thing to work out on your property and see results. The new fence posts looked good. Real good.
He could hear Sammy, just a bit down the way, whistling.
They’d used Sammy’s favorite tool, the big auger attached to the little earth mover and dug the fence holes. Sammy was setting the poles, and Beau was filling with concrete. The metal T fence would be in before anyone knew it.
Buford and Barnaby were with them, sniffing and wandering, huge paws banging on the ground. Not helpful, but damned amusing.
“You ready to break for lunch, Poot?” He didn’t holler. They had fancy little walkie-talkies.
“Surely am. You got the dogs?”
“I do.” They both knew what lunch meant.
“I’ll bring the cooler.” That happy whistling continued, got louder.
Beau chuckled, heading for the four-wheeler, getting out the mangy old blanket they kept for just such occasions. Sammy’s shirt was open, belly exposed, cooler swinging from his hands.Oh, yum. Beau liked that more than he did bread pudding. His fingers actually twitched.
The jeans were riding low, the line of dark hair leading straight down toward the buckle, pointing toward glory. His breath came a little faster, the scent of hot, sweaty Sam almost more than he could take. He might shock the dogs.
