Heart of a Cowboy (3 page)

“Nah, it’s okay. I told him not to bother.” Derek wasn’t going to admit he was too embarrassed to allow Jesse to see where he lived or how bad his neighborhood was. He would just get his stuff later, if he bothered to go home at all. Better to be thought of as homeless than to go back now. “I don’t have a home to go home to.”

“All right, I’m going to let that lie for now, but it’s okay to accept help when you need it. Around here, we like to think of each other as family.”

“Not me. I am more like the distant relative just passing through.”

“You might be surprised. You may find you like it here enough to call it home.”

“Maybe.” Derek didn’t want to argue with the old man, but he knew better than to try to think he belonged.

“Well, come along. I’ll give you the grand tour.” Luke motioned for him to follow, walking out of the small room down the long hallway, past many doors. Derek peered inside to find rooms similar to his, each with a bunk bed and a dresser. The only difference being they were lived in, and covered with pictures and personal items, not bare walls.

There was an office midway through, with a blond cowboy sitting behind the desk. He looked like he could be a twin to Jesse, with his large muscle-covered frame and those brooding blue eyes.

“Hey, Beau! Got a new boy to add to the payroll.” Luke spread his arm wide.

Derek couldn’t get over how similar the two looked. “You related to Jesse?”

“Hell no! Least not till he marries my sister, Angela.” He gave a playful wink to Derek and reached out to shake his hand. “Now who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

Funny, but Angela and this man didn’t look alike at all. Angela was clearly of some Asian descent and this guy couldn’t be any whiter. “Derek’s my name, sir.”

“Yeah, I heard about you. Call me Beau. I handle the books around here, and Jesse talked to me about the situation. Once you work off your debt, I hope you will consider staying. We could use another strong man around here. Jesse keeps talking about expanding his territory and increasing the head of cattle, but he needs more hired hands first.”

“I’ll think about it.” It was one thing to pay back what he owed, but he couldn’t imagine living here for good. He doubted he’d be welcomed that long. He had moved from home to home as a kid because his foster parents would never accept him as he was. They called him damaged goods. When they tried to change him into something he wasn’t, he acted out in more ways than one, taking self-destructive paths that ultimately led him to the group home downtown, and that dead end led to running away to hit the streets.

Luke shot the breeze for a few minutes with Beau before saying his good-byes and continuing the tour. The bunkhouse was three times larger than the house, and fifteen men lived there at any one time. Some of the cowboys stayed and others were drifters, coming and going with the wind.

At the end of the building, he was shown a large recreation room. An old worn leather couch faced a flat-screen television, and a pool table was on the other side. There was a kitchenette and a small table in the corner.

“Millie makes enough for everyone at the big house, but if you ever get hungry or don’t feel much like socializing, you can always get yourself some food here too.” Luke followed Derek’s train of sight, guessing what he was thinking. “We keep the fridge stocked with plenty of munchies.”

Derek would come back later. He still felt like he was starving even though he had eaten that morning in the jail. A constant raw ache ate at his stomach, but he knew food would soothe the pain. “Thanks, man.”

“Who’s the newbie?” A man sitting in the corner with his feet propped up on the table next to the fireplace suddenly put his newspaper down. His dark eyes looked Derek up and down with interest.

The man had dark brown skin like a Mexican, and thick black hair that was pulled back in a braid at the nape at his neck.

“Ishwar, this is Derek. He’s new around here. I expect you to treat him right and not run him off like the others.”

“Now I remember you. I helped tackle you the other night with Jesse.”

Derek pasted on a smile of nonchalance, but he felt an embarrassing heat sweep his cheeks. Briefly he wondered what would have happened if he were just a little bit faster. None of this would have happened and he wouldn’t be spending Christmas at a cattle ranch. “Never was very good at football.”

“Yeah,” Ishwar thankfully chose to ignore his comment, “and that wasn’t me that ran off the help. That was because you hired a bunch of pansies.” Ishwar laughed, sweeping a wayward strand of long dark brown hair back behind his ears. He looked like an American-Indian wearing cowboy gear, with dark sun-kissed skin and a long face with an angular jaw that looked like it was chiseled from stone. He had a striking face, deep brows and high cheekbones. He was clean-shaven, but Derek guessed he had a thick mat of chest hair under his shirt. His hair was the longest Derek had ever seen on a guy, even braided He imagined if it was loose Ishwar’s hair would fall down past his shoulders to be waist length. It was very sexy. His thoughts strayed to what it would feel like to have that straight, long hair sweep across his stomach and wrap around his cock.

Pansies? Derek felt like he had been doused with ice water. He was familiar with similar attitudes, and as sexy as Ishwar looked, he would have a meltdown if he knew Derek was gay. It was something that would be best to be prevented. It was easier to make friends when you didn’t take your business public. If they weren’t told different most guys assumed he was straight. They lacked what he liked to call gaydar, that internal sense he nicknamed gay radar was how he could tell if a man across the room was gay or bi. Which could work in his favor, if he managed to keep his mouth shut.

“Ishwar acts tough, but he’s really just a softie. You ever need anything and I’m not around, then just ask. He’ll take care of you.”

Derek nodded, a lump in his throat. Sure, he could trust the guy—until he found out he was gay and then all hell would break loose. Just like everyone else. Ishwar would turn him away and shun him if he found out about his dark little secret.

After a period of abusive relationships that never lasted, Derek had turned to a string of sexual acts that turned his soul searching into sexual gratification. Never finding the love or acceptance he really wanted. You can’t find yourself by looking down someone else’s pants, but it took him years to figure that out. It was meaningless, an empty orgasm that left him wanting more and never quite filled that hole inside of him.

“Come on, Derek. I’ll show you the barn. Your chores are easy but time consuming and need to be done every day.”

Derek turned to follow, catching one last glimpse of the Indian.

“See you around, kid.” Ishwar waved.

It didn’t sit well, being called a kid, but Derek didn’t bother correcting him. He was tired of fighting the rest of the world He just wanted some peace. “Yeah, see ya.”

Chapter Three

It was early in the morning, and Derek stood beneath the hot water, allowing the spray to do its magic, soothing all the aching muscles and helping him wake up. He watched from half-closed eyes the Indian next to him slowly lathering his cock and ass. His dick slipped between his fingers, slathered in a sudsy layer of soap.

He wondered what it would feel like to be kneeling in front of him while the man fucked his mouth. How would it feel to have his lips wrapped around the other guy’s cock? He would give just about anything to find out.

The bunkhouse was built to be practical and had little extra space. In order to house up to thirty men at a time and function, privacy was not at the top of the list. The bunkhouse had one large community bathroom, and privacy wasn’t exactly an option while showering.

What shocked Derek was his reaction. He remembered having similar feelings in high school, covertly sneaking peeks of the other guys soaping up their firm bodies and their cocks.

He should be over this by now. He had seen more than enough naked men in his short life to last a lifetime, but the Indian, Ishwar, set them all to shame.

It must be a guy thing.

Didn’t every guy compare his package to the guy next to him? Sure, but none of them would admit to fantasizing about the twenty-something man and playing with his cock. Throw in one Indian for a wet and wild ride. Sex would have been more fun than an eight-second ride on a bull, but none of these guys would consider sex with a man. He knew better than to ask, but what if they suspected he was gay? Would it mean he was treated differently, or that they would be all awkward every time they talked to him? It just wasn’t worth worrying about.

Oh, shit. Ishwar caught him staring. Derek quickly looked away and tried to ignore his racing heart.

“Hey good morning, Derek.” Ishwar punched his shoulder playfully. “Don’t go back to sleep. I’d hate to have to explain to Jesse how you drowned in the shower.”

“If I drown, it’s only because you people made me get up at such an ungodly hour. The sun’s not even up yet.” Derek made an effort to look up at Ishwar’s face and not his most favorite feature. Ishwar’s face sported a smile that could seduce a nun, and his dick was even better with the evidence of a slight arousal. He wished he could reach out and touch it, but he wasn’t about to break the unwritten code of the community bathroom.

No looking, no touching, and definitely no licking.

It would certainly spice up his sex life if all the above were included in every shower.

He wet his lips with his slick tongue, imagining an orgy of cowboys. Wild. Wet. Firm, tight bodies sliding against each other. The Indian was forefront in his daydream.

He felt all the blood in his brain rush to his dick, and his balls tightened. Shit, he couldn’t get caught with a hard-on in the shower. That’d be the quickest way to an ass kicking he could find. He knew better after years of putting up with locker rooms filled with stupid teenage high school boys. He’d been in fights almost every week his freshman year until he dropped out.

This could begin all that shit all over again.

Derek turned off the water and followed Ishwar to a stack of clean towels on the shelves in the corner. He did his best to shield his erection and think of something less sexy. He tried filling his head with ugly, old wrinkled men, but it was hard. He tried to imagine Ishwar that way, but no matter how he tried to picture the sun-bronzed giant older, he couldn’t turn himself off. Something inside of him liked the idea of growing closer together and watching Ishwar’s hair turn gray, and no matter how many wrinkles he imagined, they didn’t take away from that magical spark he saw in his eyes. It didn’t take away from the magnetic pull he felt from the man or the desire to be turned around and fucked by him.

Oh, this was getting awkward. He reached for the towel and wrapped it around his waist. Ishwar rubbed his body vigorously and did the same thing, using the white fuzzy towel to hide his sexy man-parts.

The towel made it ten times easier for Derek to look him in the eyes.
Thank you very much.

“Millie makes breakfast for the men in the morning. If you want to come out to the big house, there should be some steak and eggs for you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I usually skip breakfast.” Today he had a better reason than most mornings not to eat. Usually, he slept in but today he needed some sexual relief, and the only way that was going to happen was if he managed to find some privacy. They walked back to their private rooms side by side.

Ishwar didn’t mention if he noticed Derek walking bowlegged the rest of the way, and Derek was glad. It was hard enough to keep a straight face with a rock-hard dick. Blue balls were not just some saying that women laughed about and men feared. They were downright painful.

* * * *

Derek rolled up his pink silk sleeves and set to work, mucking out the horse stalls into a wheelbarrow. It wasn’t fun but it was honest work. He wasn’t used to working so hard and he’d be hurting by the end of the day.

The shirt would be a mess by the end of the day alongside his body. It wasn’t meant to hold up under this kind of abuse, but Luke was only able to offer him flannel shirts to borrow. The barn was already sweltering and he’d be dripping sweat in ten minutes if he accepted. So, Derek had politely refused and wore the same silk shirt he wore from the first day. The last thing he wanted was to smell of animals and sweat all day. It was bad enough he had to shovel waste half the day.

He picked through the straw on the floor, shoveling the large clumps of horse manure into the wheelbarrow. He removed all the wet, soiled straw and then replaced it with fresh straw. Somehow, this wasn’t the job he imagined he’d be doing when he accepted it.

“What are you, some sort of fruitcake?”

What the fuck?
Derek looked up to find the source of his irritation. A cocksure cowboy leaned against the stall gate. They say bald is beautiful, but not on him. He had a few extra pounds on him, with a little more padding in the middle, making him resemble an egg more than a man. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

“What are you talking about?” Derek paused, leaning against his pitchfork. The horse, a palomino, looked over her shoulder at the intruder.

“I asked you if you are gay or something. What’s wrong with you? No real man wears a pink shirt.” The cowboy’s mouth twisted in cruel pleasure.

“For your information, I am a real man. Just because you’re not straight enough to wear pink doesn’t mean I care.” Derek wiggled his neck and waggled one hand in what had to be the most gay move he ever made. He didn’t know why the man’s comment rubbed him so raw, but all he wanted to do was turn the cowboy off and hit back with some of his own anger. If he wanted to pick a fight, then let him find something worth fighting over.

Stunned, the man’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Is Bo showing you the ropes, greenhorn?” Ishwar came up behind him, patting his bully on the shoulder. He was oblivious to the underlying tension between the two men. A corded rope was slung over one shoulder.