Short Rides (Rough Riders 14.5)

Shadows wavered in the sunlight, dancing across his face in a strobe-light effect, giving the moment a surreal, dreamlike quality. He had a temporary sense of panic that this wasn’t real. But the rhythmic clasp of Trevor’s ass around his cock, the heat and hardness of his lover’s body beneath him, and Chassie’s soft hand caressing his shoulder grounded him. Reminding him this wasn’t a dream. This was his life. Their life.

Edgard grabbed hold of Trevor’s hair and cranked his head around so he could take his mouth. “I love you,” he said between ferocious kisses. “So f**king much.”

“I know.” Trevor gave those ravenous kisses right back to him. “I need…”

Then Chassie was there, her chest against Trevor’s, her mouth working the cords straining in his throat. “I know what you need.” She slipped her hands between Edgard and Trevor’s bodies to where they were still joined. Pressing her thumbs into Edgard’s hips she pushed him back.

Edgard eased out of the tight heat slowly. Before Trevor could pin Chassie to the floor and plow into her like a madman, Edgard grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Hands and knees for you too, baby.”

She turned around and Trevor caged her small body beneath his, his hips pumping ferociously as he f**ked her. He threw his head back and shouted, his body shuddering as he came.

As soon as Trevor’s body stilled, Edgard crawled in front of Chassie. He placed the vibrator directly on her clit. “Now come for me.” He swallowed her surprised gasp in a consuming kiss, and didn’t back off until she unraveled between them again.

They all three slumped to the floor in a sweaty, sticky, spent pile. After they’d caught their breath Chassie asked, “So how are we gonna spend the rest of the day?”

A few hours later, after exploring the outdoor area and another round of hot sex, they put on robes and returned to the kitchen to cook supper.

Trevor had gotten better over the years with cooking. He grilled a mean steak. While he manned the grill, Edgard fried potatoes and heated a frozen bag of corn.

“I feel useless,” Chassie complained.

“Then set the table. I think there are actual glass glasses in the cabinet.”

“How will we get through dinner with no plastic cartoon cups?”

After all the food was on the table, they looked at each other and grinned. “Well ain’t this fancy.”

“No ketchup or ranch dressing. And we don’t have to cut up anyone’s food.”

“Even our picky eater Sophia would’ve eaten this,” Trevor mused.

“The steak is cooked perfectly, Trev.”

He smirked at Edgard. “I know exactly how you like your meat.”

They snickered like twelve-year-old boys and Chassie rolled her eyes.

The silence as they ate was nice for a change, since mealtimes at home were always loud.

“I can’t remember the last time we had a meal in our robes,” Chassie said.

Trevor swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Maybe when you were tryin’ to get pregnant that first time and we were goin’ at it everywhere, all the time?”

“Yeah, probably not a good thing to tell Westin that he was conceived in the dining room.”

Edgard noticed Chassie had been picking at her corn more than eating it. “Something wrong, querida?”

“I’m happy to be here alone with you guys, but I’ll admit I do miss the kids.”

“So do we, sweetheart.” Trevor reached for her hand. “I know it’ll put your mind at ease to call them before bedtime to see how they’re doin’.”

She lifted his hand and kissed it. “Thank you. Now that that’s out of the way, what else do you have planned for tonight?”

Edgard wiped his mouth and set his napkin aside. “We brought a couple of movies—non-cartoon stuff we’ve been wanting to watch but don’t have time for.”

“Or we could play cribbage,” Trevor offered.

“Or we could just pile onto the couch and watch TV.”

“How would that be any different than a night at home?” Chassie asked.

“Max wouldn’t be running around yelling, ‘Mama, Mama watch me,’ while he’s throwing toys everywhere,” Trevor said dryly.

Edgard nodded. “And we wouldn’t be checking Westin’s homework, finishing laundry, working on scheduling goat milk transportation and cattle shipment times, while combing out Sophia’s hair and wrestling Max and Westin into the tub—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Tonight will be more sedate,” Chassie said, standing and carrying her plate to the sink.

“Plus, we won’t have to share our popcorn with the little popcorn hogs.” Edgard hip-checked her away from the sink. “The movies are in the bag in the bedroom. Pick one while Trev and I finish the dishes.”

“You guys cooked and are cleaning up? I really am on vacation.”

Trevor snapped her ass with a dishtowel. “Keep it up, smarty-pants and you will feel that crop tonight.”

After stowing the leftovers in the fridge, Edgard filled the sink with water and washed while Trevor dried.

“There’s something I forgot to mention after all that bullshit happened with Westin at school. I ran into Colby earlier that day when I was picking up groceries. He asked if Westin was entered in the mutton bustin’ event at the 4-H fundraiser next weekend.”

Edgard looked at him. “What’d you say?”

“That we’d talk about it. But to be honest, I don’t wanna bring it up unless Westin asks us about it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not sure I want him involved in the sport of rodeo at all.” Trevor leaned against the counter. “You know my Dad didn’t give me a choice. And with you and me bein’ on the circuit as professionals, I don’t want Westin to feel he’s gotta live up to something that we only enjoyed the last few years because we got to be together.”

“You’re afraid he thinks we’ll be disappointed in him if he doesn’t at least try it and carry on some kind of family tradition in rodeo?”

Trevor nodded. “Or worse...what if he tries it and likes it? I mean, we both just disappeared off the circuit. But guaranteed if Westin starts ropin’, his last name will create interest. Which will lead to buzz, rumors, and all that bullshit we’re tryin’ to avoid. Especially when folks in the rodeo world learn that you changed your last name to Glanzer and we’re living together with Chassie West. That’ll bring up Dag, too.” He shifted his stance. “I’m not ashamed of our life, but we do keep a low profile. Putting our kid in the rodeo arena probably ain’t the best thing to keep it that way.”