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Working off some steam was one thing, but that was just uncalled for.

"Figured I owed you one. You hit me first," Tor said over his shoulder.

"Bastard. I hauled bales all day and was gonna catch some sleep when I found out you were still gone. Shit, Tor, after dark, two hours in the saddle looking for you, fucking lightning and rain and muck and the first thing you do is swear at me. Fuck you." He pushed Tor hard against the truck and moved off, heading into the rain and God only knew where.

He peeled his coat off as he walked, tried to run his hands through his mud-slicked hair.

"Shit." He stopped walking and turned back to look at the truck. The saddlebags were in the back. Saddlebags meant blankets and water and dry food. He stalked back to the truck, watching Tor, who didn't look too happy to see him coming back.

The rain wasn't letting up. Tor tipped his head back and starting dragging mud out of his dark hair with strong fingers, letting the water wash as much of it off as possible. Jake
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stood at the front of the truck, watching, unable to look away and hating himself for it. It wouldn't have been so bad if he actually liked Tor, but the man was irritating and arrogant and had just made damn sure that Jake was a mess. So Jake was pissed to find himself watching Tor wash mud off in the rain and getting harder than he'd been in a long time. Including the time he'd accidentally seen Tor skinny-dipping.

Tor finished with his hair and dropped his hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it. He looked up and Jake tore his gaze away, but not soon enough.

"Problem, Taggart?"

"Yeah. The blankets are in the saddlebag. Saddle's next to you. I don't want to eat any more mud, Tor, and I don't trust you enough not to hit me again if I go over there."

Tor finished unbuttoning his shirt and lifted a hand to wipe water off his face. He sneered at Jake and half turned away, saying, "You're safe enough. C'mon around." Jake walked forward, untucking his own sopping shirt, watching as Tor peeled his off and leaned on the truck, undoing his belt.

Jake kept walking because the only other choices were to either moan and fall to his knees or run away.

Jake dug out the blankets and made a dash for the cab door, throwing them inside before they could get soaked. He turned around, ready to strip off his muddy, soaked clothes, and smacked into Tor, who had come up behind him.

"What the hell are you–" he started, grabbing at Tor's shoulders to keep from sliding over in the mud. Tor grabbed back, big hands catching him at the waist.

"Sorry. Just trying to get in and get dry."

Jake willed his fingers to let go of the man, but as Tor hadn't let go either he didn't rush it.

He made sure they both had their footing in the slick mud and then let go, careful not to push. Tor let go a moment later and took a cautious step back.

"You're not getting in there with wet clothes and mud on you. You'll just soak the blankets and then we'll be as bad off as we are now." Jake's gaze flicked down Tor's body, taking in the defined abs and the open jeans, saw bare feet. He glanced in the back of the truck, saw Tor's boots, covered in mud. They'd be wrecked by morning.

"So, what? We get naked?" Tor asked.

Water dripped off Jake's hair into his eyes. He rubbed it away and said, "Well…yeah.

Problem with that?" His hand came away from his eyes and suddenly Tor was right there, close and hot, hands back on his waist.

"Nope. You?"

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Jake froze, unsure of what exactly was happening. Then Tor's mouth was on his, a hungry tongue was sliding its way in, and Jake's brain decided that it had somewhere better to be. The hands at his waist slid around to his back and Tor was pulling him in.

Jake wasn't about to be seduced like some schoolgirl. Not by a man who went by the unlikely name of Tornado, not by anyone. He stood as firmly as he could in the mud and tore his mouth from the kiss, staring into too dark eyes. As his hands made their way into Tor's wet jeans he said, "This doesn't mean I like you, you know."

Tor threw his head back in the rain and laughed, the sound turning to a moan as Jake's rough fingers found the head of his cock and swept over it. "Oh, Christ."

Jake worked his hand as far into the clinging denim as he could and wrapped it around Tor's thick shaft, pumping as well as the tight fabric would allow. Tor groaned and thrust his hips into the stroke, almost slipping in the mud. Jake turned him, pressing him into the door of the truck and gripped Tor's cock a little tighter, his other hand trying to push Tor's jeans down and out of the way.

"Like it like that, Tor?" he said. "Hard and fast?"

Tor didn't answer, just started undoing Jake's shirt. The wet cotton was plastered to his chest and Tor had to push it out of the way with every button he managed to undo. The process would have being entirely too frustrating for Jake except that with every button undone, every bit of skin revealed, Tor's mouth moved over him, licking and sucking, leaving a trail of tingling nerve endings.

When the shirt was finally undone Jake let go of Tor and dragged it off, tossing it into the back of the truck. He leaned against Tor again, kissing him hard, their teeth clashing. Tor finally pushed him off and licked his swollen lips.

"Strip down, Taggart. Get the muck off."

Jake put a hand on the truck for balance and yanked one of his boots off, sending it into the back of the truck with his shirt. As he bent to get the other one off he looked at Tor and moaned, seeing him leaning against the truck, pants gone now, stroking himself in the rain. Water ran down his chest and arms, his legs were spread to brace himself in the slick mud and he was pulling himself in long hard strokes.

Jake tried to take his boot off without taking his eyes off Tor and fell over.

"Fuck." Jake lay on his back, propped up on his elbows and looked at Tor. Tor didn't even bother trying not to laugh, though how he managed to laugh his ass off and keep stroking that beautiful cock Jake wasn't sure.

Sighing, Jake sat up and pulled the other boot off and leaned back again. He figured he couldn't get much dirtier, so he may as well do this the easy way. He undid his belt and
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started getting his jeans undone, then realized that Tor had stopped laughing. He glanced up and met Tor's heated look, the intensity on the man's face burning into him. "Oh, shit."

He couldn't get his pants open fast enough, his straining erection making the job that much more difficult. With a gasp and a soft sigh he managed to push his soaked jeans past his hips and his cock practically jumped into his fist. He leaned back and thrust his hips up to meet his hand, gripping himself tightly as he watched Tor jerking off. Jake wriggled in the muck, working his pants off as he stroked himself, feeling his balls pulling up.

His breath was coming in ragged gasps and he knew he was going to shoot soon. He squeezed the base of his shaft hard, trying to stave off the inevitable, but Tor beat him to it. With a sharp cry Tor fell to his knees, hips snapping back and forth as he fucked his hand. Jake watched as Tor screamed out a slew of nonsense and shot, come hitting Jake on his legs and belly, and then Jake was over the edge, coming in jerky pulses, spraying his own chest.

Jake was still shaking with the aftershocks when Tor was on him, Rubbing against him and taking his mouth in a hungry kiss. Jake moaned, not caring that he was lying in mud, getting his brain twisted by the arrogant bastard who drove him to the end of his patience about twice a week.

"Christ, Taggart, you’re hot," Tor hissed in his ear as he moved over Jake. "Drive me out of my fucking skull, the way you walk around, just handling shit like you know it all."

"I do know it all. You just don't get that," Jake replied, thrusting his hips up into Tor's.

Tor groaned and slid down Jake's body again, the maneuver made easy by rainwater, mud and come. He licked at Jake's cock and then rolled off.

"No way I'm fucking in the mud, Taggart. Up you go." Tor pushed himself up to his feet and held a hand out to Jake.

Jake looked down at himself and raised a brow. He didn't blame Tor in the least; messy was an understatement. He let Tor pull him up and they stood in the rain, scraping as much dirt off themselves as they could, then let the rain take care of the rest. They moved hands over each other, wiping the water to where it was needed, feeling taut muscles strain and flex.

Jake felt Tor's hand move down his back and tensed, not sure if he was going to get turned around for another mind melting kiss or if the games were progressing. The only thing he was sure of was that no one's cock was going in anything other than a mouth without a condom, lots of lube, and a very thorough examination for mud.

"What's up?" Tor said, moving his hand away.

Jake turned and looked at him, saying, "Me. Get in the truck, Tornado."

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Tor smirked and reached for him, pushing him up against the truck, his hand stroking Jake's erection to fullness. "Yeah, Taggart. Truck." Then his mouth was on Jake's again, tongue owning him. Jake moaned, giving himself over to the man, his hips thrusting lazily into Tor's hand.

Tor let go and opened the truck door. "After you," he grinned.

"Bastard." Jake moved, climbing into the truck and pushing the blankets out of the way.

He leaned back and watched Tor get in, eyes following the water trail down the leanness of Tor's body to the dark thatch of hair at his crotch.

Jake let his hand move to his own shaft again, needing to feel some friction, some contact. He moaned softly when the door closed against the rain and it was just him and Tor in the truck, the rest of the world shut out. He closed his eyes and let himself go, riding the slow build of need, feeling it gather at the base of his spine.

He felt Tor move his leg, spreading him wide. He opened his eyes and watched as Tor’s dark head dipped low, felt Tor's tongue on the tip of his erection. He shifted a bit, giving the man more room to work, and was rewarded by the sudden, all encompassing heat that surrounded him, the wet mouth taking him in, nice and deep.

"Oh yeah, Tor, like that."

Tor moved a little, then pushed down, taking in more, worked his tongue around the head and started to suck. Big hands held his hips, not letting him thrust as Tor moved up and down on his cock, and Jake couldn't have that. He let Tor have his way for awhile, let himself get so hard it hurt, lost in the feeling. He hissed when Tor pushed at the slit at the tip with his tongue and Jake just about crawled out of his skin when he felt teeth on the upstroke. When he felt himself getting close, though, he pried at Tor's hands, forcing them off his hips. Tor resisted, like the bastard he was, and Jake finally resorted to talking him into it.

Hands on Tor's head, Jake said, "Tor, just let me. I'm not gonna hurt you, not gonna push, just let me, Tor."

Tor slowed his sucking, but finally relinquished his grip on Jake's hips and Jake immediately took control. He held Tor's head exactly where he wanted it and started to thrust into that smart mouth, watching Tor's face, feeling his cock hit the back of Tor's throat and pulling out before he could gag. He thrust fast and hard, careful not to go too deep, and Tor started moaning, making those gorgeous needy sounds Jake didn't know he loved until he heard them.

"Fuck, Tor, so good. Just…fucking…perfect."

Tor reached down and took his own cock in one hand, pulling hard and fast.

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"Tor, shit, gonna come," Jake gasped, and then Tor was off his dick and up his body, lips on his neck sucking hard as they thrust, grinding their cocks together.

"Taggart, you fucking bastard. I've never let anyone do that. No one. You better be fucking worth it."

Jake was coming then, covering them both in a hot, sticky puddle. "Better than anything you've ever had, Tor. Promise," Jake said, sliding his hand in the puddle, getting it slippery. He wrapped his hand around Tor's cock and started to pull, loving the way Tor moaned into his ear, the way Tor's legs were shaking, hips thrusting into him.

"Come for me, Tor, c'mon, I wanna see you–"

"Jake–" Tor groaned, and with a shudder spilled into Jake's hand.

Jake grinned at the drugged look on Tor's face and kissed him soundly.

"Fuck, that was…I don't know what the hell that was," Tor finally said.

"That, Tornado, was Jake Taggart. Now shift your ass so I can get at a blanket. We gotta figure out how we're getting back to the ranch."

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Chapter Two

Jake was about ready to collapse. They'd spent two days moving cattle while waiting for the hay to dry, and tomorrow morning they would start back on the bales. The end was in sight, though; the hay should only take a day and half, one day if all the extra hands stayed on. But for now all he wanted was something cold to drink and his bed.

As he crossed the yard from the barn to the bunkhouse he absently counted the bodies scattered over the grass. Lot of men sleeping out. Granted, it was hot as hell, but he had figured some of them at least would sleep in the tents on the front lawn, or in the barn itself. He shrugged, not really caring; he knew his bed was his and he had every intention of having a mattress under him instead of rocks and grass. Until he opened the door and felt the temperature increase about ten degrees.

He stepped into the kitchen and swore, immediately peeling off his t–shirt. Elias was just coming down the hall from his own room, carrying a blanket.

"Stayin' in here, Jake?" Elias asked, dumping the blanket on the kitchen table.

"Not any more. Christ, it's gotta be over a hundred degrees in here." Jake moved to the side, leaving room for Elias to pass him, and he heard the kitchen door bang open.

Elias said, "How 'bout you, Tor? Sleeping out tonight, or you want the whole house to yourself? I'm heading for the lawn and Jake's not stayin' in this heat either."

Jake stopped moving.

Tor swore. "Damn, it's hot in here. No way I'm stayin'. But it's getting real crowded out there, boys." He stomped through the kitchen toward the fridge and Jake leaned back against the wall, watching him. Tor looked…hot. Jeans and boots, no shirt, sweat making a path down the centre of his chest to his waist. Hot.