A man of few words, Joe is a hard-working farmhand who likes his simple, uncomplicated life. Ed is satisfied with his existence as an auto mechanic, but thrilled when an unexpected development in his life allows him to help Joe realize a dream.
It forces them, however, to reevaluate the casual, undefined nature of their relationship. They’re too macho to speak of love, and neither would acknowledge he doesn’t really mind when it’s his turn to bottom. When life throws them a curve ball, and the rules of their game get old, Ed tries to take every aspect of their relationship up a notch. Can Joe adapt to the open sentimentality Ed’s injecting into their relationship, let alone the new spice in their bedroom activities?
This is a previously published story that has been rewritten, expanded, and re-edited.
Ed ended the call and set down his phone. He tapped his pencil on the table and swallowed as he reread his notes. It was all arranged. He would meet the lawyer in Mayfield early tomorrow morning, sign a bunch of papers, and get the keys. After that, he and Joe would be pretty much on their own to figure it all out. Keep it, sell it, the lawyer didn’t care; it would be out of his hands.
He smiled. Apparently, his earlier worries had all been for nothing. Joe was willing to give up city life—such as it was in Omaha—with all its inherent activities, to move to the boonies with him. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
He’d spent too much time simply staring at the lawyer’s cover letter, trembling with a fear he couldn’t quite place, until it had hit him like a runaway freight train. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal to sell the farm and invest the money. Or he could have hired some help while learning the ropes. But the idea of losing Joe had panicked him. He’d never spent time thinking about it before—had taken Joe for granted—but he’d do or give up anything to stay with the man.
The water turned off in the shower. He stood and walked toward the bedroom to strip for his own shower. He kicked off his work shoes and peeled off his greasy coveralls, then ambled into the bathroom.
Joe had already dried off and was combing his short summer-blond hair. Ed’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the flex of Joe’s back muscles. Back, ass, hamstrings, arms—hell—all of him. The potent effect of Joe’s nakedness on his libido never ceased to amaze him.
Ed picked up the nail brush and casually turned on the water at the sink. “Don’t bother getting dressed.”
Joe hooted. His hazel eyes gleamed at Ed in the mirror. “Not a problem. It’s my turn, by the way.”
“Is not.” Ed loaded the brush with grease-removing hand soap and started scrubbing. He yelped when Joe slapped his ass, and attempted a scowl—though it better resembled a leer— at Joe’s self-assured grin reflecting back at him.
“You have to fix dinner then.” Ed’s stab at a hardline mien wasn’t any more successful than his glower.
Joe snickered again, turning away. “Whatever” came from over his shoulder as he walked toward their bedroom.
Ed smiled as he finished scrubbing his nails. He hurried through his shower and dried off to the beat of the Rolling Stones reverberating from the living room.
Addison Albright lives in the middle of the USA with two peculiar cats. Her stories are gay (sometimes erotic) romance, and tend to be sweet man-love in contemporary settings. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in mathematics and a minor in chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, French fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere.
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