SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

Bull pushed him down, then climbed on top of him. “Amelia said breakfast is ready,” he mumbled, then settled all of his delicious weight on top of him.

“Okay, thanks,” he said absently, his cock thickening as Bull used his leg to push Fox’s open.

Bull thrust against him, causing the wood headboard to bang against the wall.

“Jesus Christ, Dom,” Fox scolded, clamping his legs around Bull’s hips to stop him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Just a little,” Bull moaned into his throat, pulling at his turtleneck.

Fox felt his willpower dwindling as Bull worked his hand under his two layers of clothing and flicked the pad of his thumb over his nipple.

“I’ll be quiet… I promise.”

Fuck that damn rough-hewn voice that left Fox defenseless every time. “If you make even one sound, I swear I’m gonna shove my—”

“Fox! You little shit, where are you? Did you think I forgot in my sleep?”

“Holy hell!” Fox jumped at the sound of Dale’s booming voice just before he heard the front door slam with a force that made him shove Bull off so hard that he wasn’t able to catch himself before hit the floor.

“Seriously.” Bull sat up before he got to his feet and righted his clothes.

Fox grabbed up his cell phone and called Free, gritting his teeth as he waited for it to ring. “Goddamn, why’d I throw my earpiece away, fuck. Pick up the damn phone, Free.”

“Yeah, Fox.”

“Free, did you ever get that delivery moved up on that goddamn rope?”

Fox heard Dale’s angry footsteps traipsing through the house. He could feel his heart hammering as Bull stood there leaning against the window, grinning. “For real? You just gonna let him come in here and stomp me.”

Bull shook his head sadly. “You don’t. Cut. Another. Man’s—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Bull. Free, come on, I need a Hail Mary, here.”

“No. I wasn’t able to get it moved, but Vicki found another rope that is even better… It will be there by elevenish. Oh, and you owe us another one fifty.”

Fox thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head. “Free, goddamnit. You paid three hundred dollars for a fucking rope?”

“It’s high quality. Ivan said this one would be easiest to break in. Whatever that means. I sent you the screenshot… I have to go, God’s coming in,” Free said hurriedly, then hung up just as Dale burst into the room.

Fox only allowed him two angry steps towards him before he jerked his hand out and held up his screen. “Wait, wait, wait! Look!”

“I don’t want your phone,” Dale growled, his eyes appearing almost murderous as he started shrinking the space between them.

Fox had nowhere to go unless he was going to take the window. “I want you to look at the rope on the screen, fuckface. I got you another one. It’ll be here in a few hours.”

“I liked my own.” Dale was breathing heavily as if he’d gotten right out of bed, dressed, and sprinted across Bull’s property from his cabin, not stopping until he’d kicked in his bedroom door.

Fox couldn’t believe a damn rope was worth all that emotion. Some of these ranching rules and isms were borderline ridiculous, and Fox was tired of learning the cowboy way the hard way. He was going to have to make some changes.

“You might actually wanna take a look at the screen, Dale,” Bull spoke up… finally.

Dale moved forward, his thick thighs stretching his denims, his boots clacking unnervingly across the floor. Dale towered over him, then snatched the screen from Fox’s hand. He flipped Dale off while his envious green eyes roamed over the image.

“This is the one you got… this is the exact one.”

Fox nodded.

Dale gaped at him. “You paid this much?”

“Yes,” Fox gritted out. “Now, we’re even.”

Dale was still staring.

“Look. I’m sorry about cutting the rope. I didn’t know—”

Dale rushed forward and wrapped Fox in a bone-crushing bear hug and spun him around, whooping his excitement. The big foreman dropped him to his feet before Fox could curse at him to let him go.

“Holy shit, Bull, did you see this?” Dale beamed before he ran off with Fox’s phone like a boy with a new action figure. “I gotta show Rid.”

Fox leaned against the fence of Diablo’s paddock while Garvin worked with him and Mercy. They were getting more friendly together, and Diablo nipped at Mercy’s hip less and less when he and Bull went on their romantic evening rides.

“I said I didn’t want you dicking around all day. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Robby,” Dale said, walking up beside him with Rid lingering close to his side.

“He’s cleaning the boarding stables,” Fox said without taking his eyes off the black horse. “Don’t need much supervising to muck a stall.”

“I can’t believe you convinced me to hire him.” Dale frowned. “He better not fuck up, or he’ll back working for Rudy’s stinking-ass chicken farm.”