Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5)(31)



Edgard scooted in, leaving about a foot between them.

“Move in,” Gus instructed. “I need a little extra room to stretch my bum leg out.”


The truck bounced as Gus hoisted himself in and Edgard’s left thigh pressed Trevor’s right leg.

“Ah. Much better, huh?”


Trevor turned his head the same time Edgard did. His eyes locked on those full lips.

Dammit. Edgard’s mouth was so close he could smell his sweet-coffee breath. His gaze traveled up the line of Edgard’s nose and connected with yellow-brown eyes.

There it was. That jolt of something deeper than lust.

“We goin’ or what?” Gus demanded.

“Yeah, we’re goin’,” Trevor said, breaking the moment. Putting the stick shift in gear, right between Edgard’s legs, Trevor’s fingers brushed close enough to feel the heat drifting from the crotch of Edgard’s jeans.

They were going all right. Straight into the mouth of temptation. And just Trevor’s luck; this time he was in the driver’s seat.

Don’t get a hard-on. Don’t get a hard-on.

But with Trevor’s muscular thigh rubbing against his, and the almost constant necessity for Trevor to shift, Edgard fought a losing battle. His cock was so sensitive he feared Trevor’s palm on his crotch would send him over the edge.

“See that?” Gus said. “Used to be a stock dam. So dry the whole damn thing dried up.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Where else do you have water?” Edgard asked.

“Miller’s Creek. Snakes through the canyon, but there’s a couple flat places the cattle can get to.”


“Does the same creek run through Chassie’s and your place?”


Trevor shook his head. “Our stock dams are about in the same sad shape. We do have a natural spring, which means we don’t hafta haul as much water, but no creek frontage.”


An additional water source would be worth the price of the land. Edgard knew out in the high plains desert, access to fresh water was a higher commodity than gold. No wonder the McKays were so hot to have it.

“Hey, swing by the old homeplace, would ya?”


“Where is it again?”


“Down that embankment. Whoa. Right. Hard right.”


“Shit. Hang on.” Trevor cranked the wheel, which sent Edgard crashing into him with enough force he had to brace his hand on Trevor’s thigh.

Gus was too busy laughing to notice Trevor’s surprised gasp.

Don’t squeeze that firm thigh. Don’t do it.

Edgard briefly let his fingers trace the inside crease of Trevor’s jeans as he pushed off to return to his own space.

The simple move seemed to rattle Trevor.

But Gus was running off at the mouth again so the moment was short lived.

For the next two hours the trio bumped across the frozen ground. Each directional shift sent them careening into each other, and if Edgard could believe his eyes, the zipper on Trevor’s jeans bulged more than normal.

As much as Edgard would love to pretend the feel of half of Trevor’s body rubbing against his, whether accidental or on purpose, was foreplay, it wasn’t. And he’d do his part to keep Trevor’s promise to Chassie even if it damn near killed him.

“So whatcha think of my place, Ed?”


“If I say I don’t know why you’d wanna live anywhere else, Trevor and Chassie would both shoot me.”


“That ain’t an answer,” Gus pointed out.

“I know.” Edgard grinned. “But it’s the best you’re gonna get outta me, Gus.”


Back at the ranch, while Trevor used the bathroom, Edgard finagled the answers he needed from Gus on a couple of things.

Then they were off, on their way home.

Finally Trevor said, “Gus is old school. But I’m surprised he didn’t ask you more questions about your operation in Brazil. He lives for shit like that.”


“It ain’t as interesting as it sounds. Ranching is pretty much the same world over.”


“What were you two talkin’ about when I came back outside?”


Edgard shrugged, not willing to divulge anything yet. “Just shooting the breeze. He has an opinion on everything and needed to share it with me. I figure he’s pretty lonely.”


“I reckon. He and Agnes were married for sixty years, so I can’t fathom why he’d leave this place and never look back.”


“It seems his decision will work out good for you.”


Trevor snorted. “If we can convince the banker we’re a good risk.”


Edgard drummed his fingers on his knee. “Would you consider asking your family for the money?”


“Fuck no. I ain’t gonna be beholden to my pa for nothin’.”


“Even if it means letting the McKays have the land?”


Trevor brooded. Fiddled with the radio station. Messed with the heating system vents. Finally he sighed. “I don’t know. Askin’ Tater would be a last resort. It sucks ass.”


It wouldn’t be a last resort for me. I’d love to suck your ass.

Great. He’d finally managed to get rid of his hard-on only to stir it up again with that debauched visual. He shifted uncomfortably. “Who’s helping run your dad’s place?”

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