I nodded, feeling pleasantly sore and utterly satisfied. “More than okay,” I murmured. “That was... incredible.”

Logan pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It really was,” he agreed. “That was your first time, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, you take dick like a champ,” he grinned, kissing my forehead.

We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow. The room smelled of sex and sweat, a heady mix that made me feel dizzy with contentment. Outside, I could hear the distant lowing of cattle and the rustle of wind through the trees. It felt surreal, like I was living in one of my teenage fantasies. But it was real, and Logan was right there, his arms wrapped around me.

“Think we need another shower?” he asked, brushing the dark hair out of my face.

I shook my head. “Not yet. I… I like smelling like you.”

He smiled, kissing me once more. “Keep saying stuff like that and you’re gonna make me hard again.”

I glanced up at him, returning the grin. “Promise?”

Chapter 20

Logan

Iwas a nervous wreck as the black SUV carrying the investors pulled into the driveway. Dakota stood close to me, his shoulder just brushing my own as a show of support. We weren’t exactly sure how the investors might react to a couple of gay cowboys, so we decided to keep things on the down low to begin with. The last thing I wanted to do was endanger the ranch before the check cleared the bank.

As the SUV came to a stop, I took a deep breath and straightened my hat. Dakota’s presence beside me was reassuring, even if we couldn’t be as open as I’d like. The three investors stepped out, all crisp suits and polished shoes that seemed out of place on the dusty ranch.

“Welcome to the Baker ranch,” I said, mustering up my most charming smile. “I’m Logan Baker.”

The lead investor, a silver-haired man with a stern face, nodded curtly. “John Whitmore. These are my associates. Mia Thornton, our development lead, and Dustin Corvus from legal.”

Mia was all smiles as she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan!” She turned to Dakota. “And who is this charming man?”

“This is Dakota,” I said. “Our lead ranch hand.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.

“I don’t want to offend you,” she began, holding his hand tight. “But… are you a real live Native American?”

I saw Dakota flinch. Not that I could blame him, she wasn’t exactly subtle. Finally, he nodded, letting go of her hand at last.

“Cherokee,” he said. “From Oklahoma.”

“Wow,” she smiled. “That’s amazing!”

He shrugged. “It’s just who I am.”

“I just… I’m a big fan of your culture,” she replied. “And I think it’s really terrible how this country has treated your people.”

Dakota stared at her for a long moment, his eyes darting to me. “Th-Thank you.”

“Well,” I said, clapping my hands to break the tension. “Shall we get this tour started?”

As we started the tour, I could feel Dakota tensing beside me. He’d never been comfortable around city folk, especially those with money and power. I resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his arm as we walked.

The investors followed us as we made our way across the ranch, their polished shoes quickly becoming coated in dust. I pointed out the main features - the barn, the corrals, the pastures stretching to the horizon. Dakota remained quiet at my side, only speaking when directly addressed.

As we approached the cattle pens, John Whitmore cleared his throat. “Mr. Baker, I must say, this all seems rather... quaint. But we’re interested in modernization and expansion. What plans do you have to bring this operation into the 21st century?”

I felt my stomach clench. This was the moment of truth. “Well, Mr. Whitmore, we’ve got some ideas for guest housing and full immersion experiences that could set us apart in the market. My sister Caroline has been instrumental in developing a-”