Don't Read in the Closet volume one (17 page)

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Cameron sighed.

“What?” Jay demanded in
irritation. “And you are?”

“Yeah, to my parents and
my friends in New York. It’s no big deal.”

“Isn’t it? And are you
going to tell all your old acquaintances while you’re back in the Cove too?”

Cameron looked away.

“No, thought not. Easier
in a big city Cameron, just remember that. Some of these people have known me
since I were a baby. How can I do that to them?”

Cameron bit his lip. “If
I stayed here with you, we’d live together. You wouldn’t be able to keep me
hidden away.”

Jay’s anger deflated. He
rolled against Cameron, an arm over his hip. “I know.”

“All right, look. If you
want to come out, we stay here. If you can’t bear the thought of it, we go to
New York. Either way’s fine by me.”

Their gazes caught and
held for the longest moment. Jay kissed him.

“Fuck this,” he
muttered, half to himself and then he climbed from the bed, wrenching the sheet
off Cameron, taking it with him.

“Hey! What are you
doing?” Cameron followed Jay naked into the living room.

Sheet wrapped around his
waist, Jay was sliding open the door to the balcony. He stepped out, scanning
the ground below him.

“Hey, hey, Mr.
O’Loughlin!”

Cameron hung back,
perturbed. Jay addressed the most cantankerous yet strangely respected man in
town, a man with a penchant for a good red wine and telling it like it was.
Nothing happened here without his knowledge.

He stopped, leaned on
his stick, stared up at Jay in his bed sheet. “What do you want, son?”

“I’m gay Mr. O’Loughlin,
I want you to know.”

Cameron’s jaw hung open.

O’Loughlin scowled up at
him,
then
snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know,
faggot
.”

“What? Hey, this is my
boyfriend.” Jay pulled Cameron forward by his wrist.

Cameron yanked the
tablecloth from the nearby table and held it over his modesty, blushing scarlet
as O’Loughlin peered up at him.

The man shook his head.
“Again, tell me something I don’t know, queer boy.” He walked away, muttering
to himself.

Jay turned to gape at
Cameron in shock. Cameron, still clutching his tablecloth, shook his head, his
bemusement finally turning to a laugh.

Jay started to laugh
too. “Do you think they all know?”

“Yes. Just how discreet
were we really?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well think about it. We
couldn’t keep our hands off each
other,
we had sex in
dangerous public places…”

Jay groaned. “Shit,
everyone knew all along. I guess my folks know too.”

“I guess they do. Come
here, queer boy.”

Jay’s anxious expression
relaxed into a grin. He fell into Cameron’s arms.

****

Later that night as they
lay spooned together, Cameron listened to the soft swell of the ocean beneath
Jay’s window. It soothed him and lulled him towards sleep as it always did.
God, he’d missed it. The ocean was in his blood, just like Jay.

“Hey.” He smoothed a
hand over Jay’s chest, pressing closer.

“Hmm?” Jay was half
asleep.

“I think we should stay
here.”

Jay craned his head over
his shoulder, fully alert. “You do?”

“Yeah. I miss the surf.
All I need is that and you. I don’t need to go back to the rat race.”

Jay’s fingers closed
over his. “What about your job?”

“I don’t care. I’ll find
another. Or I’ll be your kept man.” He bit Jay’s ear playfully.

Jay laughed. “I like the
sound of that. Coming home to dinner on the table and you in my bed. Yeah, I
could do that.”

“Or me on the table and
dinner in bed?”

“That too.” Jay rolled
over, searching Cameron’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

They kissed and as he
tasted Jay’s passion and love, Cameron knew that his heart had always been safe
here in Echo Cove.

THE END

Author bio:
Scarlet likes cats and hats and firmly
believes that the only thing better than one attractive man is two attractive
men.

You can write to her
at: [email protected]

Find her at her
website:
http://scarletblackwell.com/default.aspx...

Or follow her ravings
at Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/reqs.php?fcode=e...

And her journal:
http://scarlet-fiction.livejournal.com/

Penny
Brandon – FINDING JACK (Cowboys/Mild BDSM)

Selected by Penny
Brandon

Dear Author,

I have tried every game
and trick that I can think of. All I want is to have the big boss man take one
look in my direction. I have been in love with him since the first day I
stepped foot on this ranch two years ago.

Can someone out there
give this cocky cowboy the HEA and punishment that he is looking
for.

[PHOTO: Standing in the stirrups of a
western saddle on a bay horse, silhouetted against a blue sky, is a totally
naked cowboy. He's young, slim, with curly brown hair and a tattoo on one
bicep. The distinct tan lines around his white ass suggest he swims in a
Speedo. He holds a white stetson strategically over his groin.]

 

Sincerely,

KellyJo

Genre:
contemporary, cowboys

Tags:
cowboys, Australian, punishment,
spanking, leather

Content warning:
mild BDSM

Words:
7,125

FINDING JACK

by
Penny Brandon

“You’ve got to
be crazy. You do realize you could get fired? Or your ass reamed?”

“That’s what
I’m hoping.”

“To get fired?”

“Nope, to get
my ass reamed. Hard.” Dale laughed, sticking his booted foot in the metal
stirrup and hauling himself up into the warm leather saddle. He adjusted the
reins, holding his bay mare steady as he grinned down at his friend. “Hard and
good.”

“You sure you
want to do this?”

Dale sobered a
little from the high he was climbing. “Yes. If this doesn’t make him notice me,
nothing will.”

“And what if he
doesn’t? In the way you want him to, that is? Then what? You leave?”

Not wanting to
think that far ahead, Dale shook his head. “When he knows how much I want him…”
God, this had better work, he couldn’t
keep loving
a
man who didn’t know he existed. Dragging in a deep breath, Dale twisted a
little in the saddle and tipped the brim of the white Akubra hat on his head.
“Just wish me luck, okay?”

The dark
skinned face that looked up at him seemed grim, until it smiled and a bright
flash of white teeth transformed the Aboriginal features. “Fella, you’re gonna
need more than bloody luck. You’re gonna need a miracle.” Then in an act of resignation,
Pete, the ranch manager and reluctant cohort in Dale’s desperate exploit,
slapped the horse on the rump, setting it off on something Dale hoped he wasn’t
going to regret.

The house was
set back from the rest of the buildings, its weatherboard walls, despite the
overhanging bullnose veranda, were bleached white in the harsh Australian sun.
It had stood empty for years before the current owner had moved in, the land it
stood on dotted by tall Eucalypt and Silver Gum. Dale liked that it stood a fair
distance from the main house; the one now used for the ranch hands, it gave the
owner privacy, and therefore Dale’s open invitation some privacy as well. Not
that there wasn’t a single man on the ranch who didn’t know what the hell he
was doing and why. Except for Jack Hawthorn, the aforementioned owner of the
ranch, and the sexiest man Dale had ever laid eyes on -
he
hadn’t got a
damn clue.

Dale’s heart
ached a little at that. For too damn long he’d waited for Jack to notice him,
acknowledge him, want him, but his boss had hardly even looked his way, and
Dale couldn’t take it anymore. So today, after months of trying, he’d come up
with this crazy stunt to get Jack’s attention once and for all. And it really
was crazy, and he
could
get fired, but Dale was prepared for that.
Actually, if this didn’t work, he was going to have to leave anyway. Living
here, so close to the man he loved without being able to act on it, hurt, and
Dale was fed up of feeling that kind of pain.

As he neared
the house, Dale squinted against the setting sun’s glare, frowning as he
noticed Jack’s horse standing listlessly in the shade of one of the gum trees.
It wasn’t tethered and Dale grew concerned, knowing Jack would never leave his
prize Quarterhorse unsecured. Spurring his horse on, Dale quickly closed in on
the black stallion, his concern turning to outright fear as he spotted blood on
the stallion’s shoulder.

Quickly
dismounting, Dale grabbed the loose reins and while making soothing noises
checked for a wound. Finding none, however, didn’t alleviate Dale’s fear, in
fact it increased it. If the blood didn’t belong to the horse there was only
one other source – Jack’s. Without a second thought, Dale threw himself back
onto his own mare and while fumbling for his satellite phone to inform Pete, he
took off in the direction Jack had gone that morning. Thank God he’d been
watching Jack today. Well, he watched Jack every day and knew his obsession
could be classed as borderline stalking, but under the circumstances he was
pretty glad he did.

An hour into a
hard ride, with panic eating at him, Dale thought he saw some movement ahead.
This was part of the ranch that didn’t yet have cattle, but kangaroos and
camels quite often roamed the open ground and though Dale didn’t want to get his
hopes up, the shadowed shape he now had his gaze trained upon looked nothing
like a kangaroo or a camel, but like a man. Digging his heels in, Dale pushed
his horse to go faster, mindful of the treacherous holes dug by dingos and
wombats. There was nothing worse than being brought down by a misplaced hoof,
and going as fast as he was now he’d hit the ground hard enough to break
something, and he didn’t even want to consider the possible damage to his
horse.

As he got
closer, the shape revealed itself and Dale could now clearly see Jack, standing
with legs spread wide, hands planted firmly on hips, hat tilted across his
smooth brow, waiting. Relief swamped Dale, blanketing every other thought,
every other emotion, and he paid no heed to anything else other than to make
sure Jack was okay. Reining his mare in, Dale instantly dismounted, his booted
feet hitting the ground. Dust puffed up around him and stuck to his sweat
soaked body, but Dale barely noticed.

Breathless, he
took a step toward Jack, surprised when the man took a step back. “Are you all
right?” he asked, eyeing Jack up and down, desperately looking for any sign of
injury or harm. Jack looked all right. In fact, to Dale, he looked damn fine.
Taller than Dale by a couple of inches, broad shouldered and solid with a tight
ass and well-muscled thighs, Jack was everything Dale liked in a man, but what
stood Jack out from any other was his beautiful green eyes. Eyes which usually
flicked over him with the barest amount of recognition but which were now
trained on him with an intensity Dale had never seen before. His stomach
flipped a little, but he wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or alarm.

“I’m fine, just
got thrown from my damn horse is all.” Jack took off his hat and slapped it
against his thigh raising a filament of dust. “I assume you saw him come home?”

Dale nodded,
his attention caught on Jack’s fine blond hair. “Yeah, he was standing next to
your house. I rang Pete to come and take care of him and then came looking for
you.”

“Like that?”

Oh, fuck!

In his mad dash
to find Jack, Dale had all but forgotten, but now, as he stood before his boss,
stark naked except for his cowboy hat and boots, Dale realized how crazy he
must look, and all at once his stunt to get Jack to notice him seemed the worst
thing he could have done, because the kind of notice he was getting now was not
the one he wanted. Jack looked positively pissed.

Jack’s intense
gaze travelled slowly down Dale’s body and back up again, his perusal
deliberately insolent. Dale felt the heat of it all the way through to his
marrow, and despite the circumstances, Dale felt himself respond. He turned
away quickly, but not before cursing himself for his stupidity.

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