Page 3 of The Cowboy's Second Chance
Two
Derrick
Derrick had not been planning to come back that summer at all. He had planned to go on a road trip through the country with his girlfriend, Jessica. But instead, he had gotten a conversation where Jessica had very politely, very sweetly, but also very firmly, told him that he wasn’t what she was looking for.
Jessica wanted something more exciting. Someone to sweep her off her feet. Someone who, although she put it more tactfully than this, cared about more than just their grades. She didn’t put it exactly like that, of course, but she didn’t have to. Derrick had heard it all before.
So he was single. Again. And while it had occurred to him to go on the road trip by himself, he couldn’t quite make himself do it. It would be too depressing to go on the trip he had planned with a woman who wouldn’t even be there.
Which left him with his plan B, he was going back to the ranch where he had grown up, the ranch that he had escaped from, and spending the whole summer there. It would be more time than he had spent there since he graduated high school, and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he would have rather not had to go, but on the other, there was this curious eagerness to go back to Kansas, to breathe the scent of the air there, to feel the dusty ground under his feet again.
All of that had led him to where he was now, sitting in the old, worn living room which looked even older and more worn than he had remembered. It was pouring rain outside, and the sound of the droplets hitting the window accompanied Derrick’s drinking. His father wouldn’t like it if he happened to come downstairs, but usually, his dad would be fast asleep by this time of night, worn out from a long day.
Malcolm, too, actually. Derrick knew that his older brother was protective of him, and he probably wouldn’t be thrilled by the amount of whiskey that Derrick had already downed. But then someone did come into the room, and Derrick was vaguely amused by the rush of panic that went through him. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but back in the place where he had grown up, it almost felt like he was.
It was just Logan, though, and that was okay. Logan had never been the kind of guy to act like Derrick’s father and brother did. Though Derrick would never have admitted it to anyone, much less to Logan himself, he had to admit to himself, at least, that he had always sort of thought that Logan was the coolest guy he knew.
That hadn’t changed.
When he’d been away at school, it had been easy to ignore that. So easy to write off everyone who had stayed behind as hicks, bumpkins, people that he loved, of course, but not his sort of people. They would always be his family, but his future was not on the ranch. He had known that for years now.
So, if all of that was true, then why was he sitting around drinking and staring at Logan? And that was just where it started. Soon enough, Derrick was climbing onto Logan’s lap, and for the first time, he was kissing another man. And not just any man, a man who was so far off limits that it wasn’t even funny. Malcolm’s best friend.
And worse than that, it was the best kiss that Derrick had ever had. It was probably just the booze, but his heart was pounding, and his cock was throbbing, and he was weak all over when Logan put him off of his lap and left. Though not without a parting jab telling Derrick to come find him if he still wanted to when he was sober.
How Derrick made it to bed, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t used to drinking nearly that much, and he woke up late in the morning to the offensively brilliant summer sunshine streaming in through the window. It was already blisteringly hot, and Derrick groaned as he pushed his blankets off of himself and tugged his pillow over his face to stop the stream of light.
The pain was better than the realization of what he had done. He had kissed another man, and not just any man. It was just the booze, of course, he would never be interested in Logan otherwise.
Yeah. Right. Because stunning, tall, chiseled men were repulsive. Even he didn’t believe that. His attraction had always been to women, but now and then, a guy had caught his eye. It was something that he understood about himself without letting himself really think about it much, but going away to school had helped a little with that.
So Logan was beautiful. So what? It was just one kiss, and it didn’t have to mean anything. Logan had left the ball in Derrick’s court, and Derrick knew Logan well enough after years of experience with him to know that Logan wouldn’t bother him about this. Malcolm would mercilessly tease him if he knew, assuming he didn’t just murder them both, but Logan wouldn’t say a word.
It could all just be like it never happened. That would be for the best, right? It had been nothing more than a drunken mistake and Derrick had the idea that it had probably been a similar thing for Logan, who had been drinking pretty heavily there himself.
Except that the thought of his lips against Logan’s had Derrick’s cock swelling to life, despite his misery. Except that he could still remember the feel of that throbbing erection against his own, could feel the way that Logan had arched his hips up to press himself firmly against Derrick.
For a moment, he fought it. But he found his hand slipping down to wrap around his own dick, his naked body acutely sensitized as he writhed slowly up into his own grip. He told himself that he should let go, that jerking off thinking about such an impossible situation was stupid, but who would ever know?
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hard, eager enough that the pulsing of his headache faded into meaningless background noise. He groaned into the pillow on his face, his eyes tightly closed, and remembered it all over again as his fingers worked his erection.
It was so easy to imagine what might have happened if Logan hadn’t stopped it. So easy to imagine the other man slipping his hand down, wrapping it around Derrick, just as he was doing to himself now, and jerking him off. He had never allowed himself to have such a vivid erotic fantasy about anyone, much less a man, but it happened now whether he allowed it or not.
The only thing that seemed to make sense was for him to surrender to it, just for the moment. Later, he could be good again, but no one would ever know that he was thinking about Logan’s full lips parted with his rapid breathing, the gleam in his sapphire eyes, those strong, calloused hands which were far too easy to imagine wrapped around himself. Derrick stroked himself, base to tip, and let it happen. He surrendered, just for these few, potent, scorching hot seconds.
And in that time, he came.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t jerked off before. Of course, he had. But nothing that he had ever given himself had ever been like this. His entire being focused down with pinpoint precision onto one thing, his own fingers caressing his erection as he imagined that it was Logan. He even imagined Logan’s small, triumphant little smirk, and it was all achingly clear, so vivid that for a moment he forgot that it wasn’t real.
Then his own fluids were coating his fingers, and he was left, sated and drained and even sweaty from how much he had been writhing into his own touch. But somehow, he wasn’t satisfied. The fantasy had been incredibly vivid, but he knew what it was like to kiss Logan now, and no erotic fantasy was going to be anywhere near enough for him now.
But it had to be. He couldn’t do this, and now that Logan was sober, no doubt he would feel the same way. Logan would know, every bit as much as Derrick did, that it was a horrible idea.
None of which explained why he got dressed and went downstairs to get some coffee into himself before he went out into the broiling hot Kansas sunshine. The smart thing to do would be to stay inside, drink fluids, and recover from his hangover, but he justified himself. His solo activities had taken the edge off of his hangover, and the coffee had helped, too.
He was just going to go out onto the ranch. He was allowed to do that, right? He was going to saddle up a horse, something that most of his friends and classmates back at college wouldn’t even believe that he knew how to do, and he was going to ride out.
Derrick wasn’t looking for Logan. If he happened to find him, he would be polite, sure, but the ranch was big, and there wasn’t a very strong chance that he would see anyone else.
