Page 28 of Stable Hand

He nodded and grabbed the shampoo. “Good night, Jensen. Sleep tight.”

I wondered if I would sleep at all with the memories of slick, muscled ponyboys and Luke’s eager mouth.

*

Sometime in the late evening after everyone else had come in, I heard Luke enter the bunkhouse. I pretended to be asleep, but I slit my eyes enough to see what he was doing. To my surprise, instead of using the straight chair nearby, he sat on the corner of my bunk, right by my feet under the blanket, and bent to untie his shoes. Even though the room was dark, strips of moonlight kissed the floor and the walls, coming in through small gaps in the curtains. I could see well enough.

I had noticed the ponyboys only wore Doc Martens in the stable and arena. When they were in street clothes, they wore either runners or flip flops. Luke had on a pair of black-and-white Vans like an urban skater boy. And maybe that’s exactly what he was when he wasn’t at the ranch.

He took them off, while my heart beat a mile a minute, kicked them under the bed, and sat there.

I pretended to be asleep although I was hyperaware of everything. Luke’s hand drifted over the bedclothes along my calf and rested gently on my knee. I stiffened all over, wondering what would happen next. But then his hand was gone, and I heard him climb the ladder to the top bunk.

Had I expected him to kiss me again? Maybe. I’d hoped for more. But I should have known better.

My heart beat frantically for a good thirty minutes before I decided Luke wasn’t going to do anything but go to sleep. It took me forever, but I drifted off and dreamed of blue eyes and warm tongues.

*

I’d been warned mornings started early at the bunkhouse.

The sun was barely up when, through a haze of sleep, I heard rustling and voices as the men prepared for their day.

I was tired, and since it seemed as if I’d only just gone under, I really wanted to stay asleep. Rolling over to face the wall, I pulled the blankets over my head. I needed another couple of hours.

“You gonna wake him up, Luke? The kid was moaning all night; what the fuck did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything. He must be looking forward to getting a good look at the inner workings of the BCR. I’d be moaning too.”

“Fuck off, Luke. Pretty sure you’re so jaded by now nothing gets you off but Kamal and the crop.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t knock the crop till you’ve tried it, T. Kamal uses a riding crop like an extension of his cock. If he could beat me with his cock, I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Fuck, listen, he’s moaning again. He’s not gonna last four hours in the stables. They’ll be mopping his spunk off the floor.”

There was laughter and then I felt the blankets ripped off me. The cool morning air of the bunkhouse shocked me into flipping over and glaring at the men surrounding me.

Luke stood closest and had obviously been the one to uncover me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

“You’ve got to get up, cowboy. Don’t you have to be at the grooming barn by seven thirty?”

I resisted the urge to cover myself because I was lying there with a morning erection in nothing but snug boxer briefs. Did I have to be at the grooming barn by seven thirty? I couldn’t remember.

“Nobody told me.” Or had they? “What time is it?”

“Time to get up. Six.”

“Six o’clock? AM?” Jesus, it was earlier than I’d thought.

“You said you worked as a regular stable hand. Pretty sure you have to be up bright and early to do that job. Maybe you’re all talk. Maybe you haven’t had any experience with horses.” Luke said.

“It’s been a while.” I rubbed my face with my hand, feeling the day-old stubble and wondering if I should shave. “And I hardly slept last night.”

The other men had dispersed to get on with their preparations, but Luke stood there watching me. His gaze was unnerving but, at the same time, reassuring.

“You were making a lot of noise,” Luke said.