Verin heaved the hay bale down from the loft, swiping irritably at the itchy bits stuck to his face. His broad shoulders and thick arms had gotten him shanghaied into hay duty that morning while Shaxy went to play with the ponies. Ness, being pretty and kinda willowy-looking—though he could've snapped most of these pussy cowboys in two—was in the other barn helping with the baby milk cows.
"And I get the shit grunt work. So what else is new?" He straightened in the cramped confines of the hayloft to stretch his back and slammed the top of his head, right between his horns, against a rafter. "Fuck!"
"You all right up there, Hammer?"
"Just peachy," Verin growled as he plunked down on the hay bale he'd dropped, while the loft spun in slow circles.
A battered hat followed by a concerned pair of bright green eyes appeared at the top of the ladder. "Jeez M. Crow." The rest of Corny's buff self followed, the hard muscles in his arms seriously threatening his shirt seams as he heaved himself up into the loft and knelt in front of Verin.
Damn fine for a human. Seriously fine. Verin tugged at his suddenly uncomfortable jeans and jerked his head back when Corny reached for him. The damn horns… "Hey! Hands off!"
Corny yanked his hands back as if stung. "No offense meant. Just trying to see if you took any serious hurt."
"No." Verin snapped, rubbing the sore spot gingerly. Corny frowned and looked…what? Confused? Hurt? Had he done that? He hated that he'd never been good with the squishy stuff but damn it, the guy was hot and he didn't annoy the hell out of Verin. He hadn't meant to snarl at him. "Yeah, I'm all right. Just not real graceful."
"You got more heft than a damn bison," Corny grumbled and put a finger under Verin's chin to lift his head. "You got no need for graceful. Here, just look at me a sec. Yeah, all right. Y'got your bell rung, but you don't seem all cockeyed and cider drunk."
"Er…that's a good thing, right?" Verin held still, that single finger making his insides spark. This shouldn't be happening. It's not like I don't make sure I get some when we dock somewhere. Unlike certain picky demon princes. It's not like I'm hard up.
But it had been a long while since he wanted a particular someone. Usually he just fucked the first willing thing with a pulse. This man with his rough hands and his bone-rattling deep voice did things to Verin's nerves that had nothing to do with pissing him off.
Corny chuckled, a heavy, rich sound that caressed Verin's stomach and settled in his balls. "Yeah. That's a good thing. Good thing it was your skull and not your nose. Looks like that's been broke a couple times already."
"Calling me ugly?" There came the irritation wave, right on schedule.
"Oh, hell, no. You're damn good looking, 'specially for such a big man. Just look like you've had to stand up for yourself a time or two."
Poof, there it went again. "Oh. Yeah. Guess so."
The rough index finger still tilted up his chin, that single point of contact flaring white-hot. Verin thought he might drown in the Neptune green of those eyes that seemed to be growing larger. Oh, wait, he was leaning forward. Corny wasn't pulling away, his lips parting slightly on a soft sigh.
"Hey, Corny!" The freckled kid's head popped up over the top of the ladder. "Oh…um."
Verin jerked back and so did his green-eyed cowboy.
"What, Jess?"
The boy looked at them oddly but then seemed to recall why he'd come, his stupid-ass grin returning in a flash of blinding teeth. "You gotta come see! Mr. Goldner's with Zeke breaking broncs, and boy howdy, is he ever amazing!"
Verin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I just bet he is."
"C'mon!"
Jessie's head vanished as he descended with a series of alarming clatters. Corny followed more sedately, shaking his head. "Gonna tag along, or you want to set a spell and get your feet back?"
"No, I better go see what that bonehead's doing now."
For some reason, this made Corny smile. The damn smile warmed Verin right down to his clawed toes. Wasn't fair, not at all, one man having all that sexy. On the way out of the barn, he lit the cigar he'd stuck in the corner of his mouth, needing an easy excuse for his nostrils spouting smoke. Shax showing off was a guaranteed smoke producer. All the way to the corral, the freckled kid nattered on and on about how "Mr. Goldner" had a natural way with horses and they should have seen how he gentled one mustang just by talking to her. So on and so forth.
Under different circumstances, Verin would have cuffed the kid hard upside his head to shut him the hell up. He didn't think the manhandling from a stranger would go over well, though, so he kept his big paws to himself and sucked on his cigar.
When they reached the corral, Shax was perched on the top rail of the fence, waiting while two cowboys brought a wild horse out from a holding pen. The piebald stallion yanked on his lead ropes, screaming and snorting his defiance, pawing the air as they dragged him forward.
I like that horse. Hope he wipes the damn smirk off Shax's face.
Shax, though, kept up a soft stream of words, probably meant to reassure the cowboys as much as the horse. When the struggling humans had pulled the horse close enough, the idiot prince leapt onto the horse's back, one hand clutching the lead rope one of the boys threw him and the other holding tight to his hat. It looked precarious but better than risking the shield halo slipping. Wouldn't that be just too much fun, trying to explain Shax's cute little red horns?
The horse went through some bizarre gyrations, as if it were some twenty-first century equine choreographer. He threw his head down and did a weird four-footed hop three times in an attempt to dislodge his unwelcome passenger. Then he twisted his front half right and left in quick succession while bucking up hard with his back legs. Buck and plunge, rear and twist, all the while Shax clung like an Andromedan barnacle while he whispered to the little mustang.
Eventually, either the stallion got tired or he decided whatever Shax was saying was more interesting than trying to toss him off and trample him. He calmed to a few quicksteps and head tosses, his ears swiveling back and forth in obvious attentiveness.
Shax reached down and patted a brown and white shoulder. "There, isn't that nicer? See? I'm not hurting you. Not in the slightest."
"Y'see?" Jessie enthused, waving a hand at the scene in the corral. "Never seen nothin' like it!"
"Never in your long, long life?" Corny drawled and chuckled at the sour look the boy shot him. "He's a natural, all right. Goldner, you sticking around to try for a purse?"
Shax managed a shocked look. He was too damn good at that surprised, innocent expression. "Should I? Would it be allowed?"
He turned the horse to include all the men watching as they clamored for him to stay and compete.
The look of bewilderment firmly in place, Shax asked again, "With me being an outsider? No one will mind?"
"Heck, no." Zeke shook his head. "Cowpokes come from miles around for this, some as have ranch jobs, sure, but loners, too. Anyone who can get here and has a hankerin' to give it a go."
"You have to, Mr. Goldner! You're better'n any of 'em. Wouldn't be right if you didn't!" Jessie added breathlessly.
Shax laughed, managing to make it sound embarrassed. "Oh, well, with that sort of endorsement, I suppose I must. Ver?"
Verin kept his snort to a small one. "You know you're not really asking me. You'll do whatever the hell you want no matter what I say."
The twisted little shit just threw him a wink and a grin before he slid from his bronco. Verin gave him a last shake of his head before he turned his back and walked away. They'd been friends long enough that Shax would get the message. You're starting shit again. Shit that'll get us all hurt and end in us running.
As he ambled back toward the hay barn, he was surprised to find Corny keeping pace with him. "You don't wanna watch the great and powerful Shax?"
Corny laughed. "Your cousin really gets under you skin, huh? Guess no one does that better than family."
"Yeah, he does. But I've put up with him this long."
"Not much of a kin resemblance. Distant cousins?"
Verin shrugged, trying to play disinterested. This cowboy was starting to ask too many damn questions. "Our mothers were second cousins." More or less true in the demon world, since Verin's mother was the abandoned spawn of another fallen angel. "But Shaxy's was a high society princess who raised him in a palace while mine was gutter trash who left me where she dropped me."
"His family wasn't real fond of you?"
You could say that. Auntie Lilith hated having me underfoot. "Shax never cared what anyone else thought. Not even when we were kids. I think he kept me around because he was lonely."
"A man like him? Seems to me he'd have a whole passel of friends."
"Fuck, yeah. People who want things from him. Want to figure out how to use him."
Corny nodded with a dark frown. "I can see that. Seems smart enough to know the difference, though." He leaned against the barn door. "But he needs you. He trusts you."
"Yeah. We drive each other crazy, but yeah."
Something was brewing behind those sexy green eyes. Verin was trying to figure out whether he was going to have to lie like crazy or punch Corny's lights out in the next few minutes when the cowboy fixed his gaze on his boots. "So…Angelus."
"What about him?"
"He seems pretty close with Goldner."
"Yeah," Verin drew out the word, hackles rising.
"Don't get all riled up. I don't mean no offense. But are they, you know, knocking boots?"
Verin balled his fists. "What're you asking? If we're a pack of sodomites?"
Apparently, those boots were incredibly interesting. "That's an ugly word. I don't mean to make trouble. Just…wondering if maybe it was something you had in common. With your cousin."
"So you think I'm some pretty nancy boy?"
"No!"
"Oh, so you are saying I'm ugly."
"Hell, no! You're a tough hombre, anyone can see that, but you're still a real good-looking man."
Verin let out a slow breath full of smoke. Too much fun, getting a human all flustered. By now, Corny was steamed-crab red and wild-eyed, but Verin only had so much patience for such things. He put out his cigar on his boot heel, stuck the stub in his shirt pocket, and stared into those anxious green eyes a moment more.
Then he seized the front of Corny's shirt and yanked him into the barn where he slammed him against the wall. Air left his lungs in a woof and those damnably sexy green eyes got even bigger as Verin pinned him to the boards with his body. "This what you want, cowboy? What you're too chickenshit to say right out? You want a hard man grinding on you? Fucking you?"
Corny gulped for air like a landed fish. Then his eyes narrowed to angry slits. "What if I do? You gonna haul off and hit me now?"
An evil grin curved Verin's lips. "Nah. That'd be the easy way out." He gripped the back of Corny's hair and slammed their lips together, heedless of teeth. Corny let out a rumbling moan when Verin forced his tongue inside. He ground hard against the growing bulge in Corny's jeans as his green-eyed cowboy seized his biceps in a bruising grip.
"I have two rules," Verin growled softly between tugging on Corny's bottom lip with his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"You don't touch my head. I don't like it and I'll walk away faster than you can take another breath."
"All right. Every man's got his preferences. And the second?"
"If you want top, you'll have to fight for it."
Verin expected shock or maybe a return to anger, but Corny laughed. "You got a promise on that. Not in broad daylight where anyone might see, though."
"Yeah. That damn kid'll probably pop up again."
"He does that." Corny slid his hands down Verin's back to cup his ass, sending plasma jolts through Verin's balls. "Tack room. We block the door. I'll give you this first one since you're a guest."
"Think you'd lose?"
"I think I'd give as good as I got but this here's not the time or place."
Not many people surprised Verin. More often, they confirmed all the awful things he knew about humans and their selfish, small-minded lives. This man insisted on surprising him. Instead of anger or fear, this cowboy met his every barb with patient good humor. It started him thinking of all sorts of stupid things.
"Tack room. Lead the way."
Verin snatched a pitchfork from where it leaned against the wall and followed Corny to a little room at the back of the barn. Seemed a little odd to have a room with a door in a barn, but having a clean workspace free of barn dust to work with oils and new leather probably wasn't a bad idea. He shut the door behind them and wedged the pitchfork under the knob with its tines stuck in the wooden floor.
"Strip, cowboy." Verin leaned back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. "Let's see the goods."
Once again, a man could have taken offense. Corny just laughed and even the corners of his eyes crinkling were sexy. Even better, he wasn't the slow tease kind as he shucked his shirt, yanked off his boots, and whipped off his belt, which suited Verin's impatient nature a little too well. The one-piece underwear thing men wore in that century wasn't terribly flattering, but Corny made short work of that, too.
Fuck. The rest of him's just as delicious. Sexy, sexy beast. Verin wasn't sure what he'd been hoping. Maybe that something wouldn't be as advertised, something that was a deal breaker for him, like a tiny dick or a hairless chest. Then he could've walked away and stopped thinking about this damn human who'd gotten under his skin. But, no, of course not. Corny was perfection from his broad hairy chest to the I-beam, pipe-thick erection jutting from his forest of black curls.
"Your turn, Hammer."
Verin took the time to unbutton his shirt before shucking it to the side. A shirt pulled over invisible horns would've been awkward and too bizarre to watch. He undid his jeans and shoved them down to his boot tops, but there was no way in hell or anywhere else that he was taking off his boots. Even Shax wasn't a good enough liar to explain away Verin's scaly, taloned feet.
"Not half bad." Corny's gaze swept him up and down, managing both hungry and amused in the same expression. "Now you gonna fuck me or were you just pulling my leg?"
The growl started low in Verin's belly. It escalated to a full roar as he grabbed Corny, spun him around, and shoved him facedown, bent at the waist over the workbench on the back wall. A gasp followed by a shaky moan let Verin know how Corny felt about the rough handling. Perfect.
If this was some station-side screw, he'd most likely do a spit take and have at it, but Corny was someone he'd see tomorrow and maybe even want to screw again. Verin scanned the shelves above his head in the frantic hope that there might be some appropriate lube. He took down a promising jar and his right horn caught on a stirrup hanging from a hook. Trying to shake it loose, he snagged a bridle from the opposite wall on his left horn.
"Motherfucking pieces of shit," Verin snarled swiping right and left to remove the impromptu ornaments. "I'm not a damn Christmas tree."
"What're you doing up there?" Corny struggled to rise up for a look but Verin kept him pressed down hard.
"Being not graceful. Fucking tight quarters."
"You kiss your granny with that mouth?"
"No."
An uncomfortable silence followed before Corny said, "Right. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it." Finally free of extra bits of metal and leather, he opened the jar and sniffed. Lanolin. That'll do. "You probably had a nice home life, so you don't think about shit like that."
"I'm an ooo—" Corny broke off with a yelping moan as Verin shoved a meaty, lanolin-coated finger in his ass. He continued in a breathy, shuddering voice. "Orphan. Raised by…damn that's good…nuns."
"Really?" Maybe this man had a better chance of understanding him than most. Raised by nuns kind of sounded like growing up in hell. Verin added a second finger, the deep groan tugging at all his nerves. "My sympathies."
"Thanks. Oh…right there." Corny bucked and lifted his ass when Verin tapped his prostate. "Good lord, that's so incredible. You have magic in those fingers."
"Want more than fingers?"
"Yes. Hell, yes."
Verin grunted as he slicked up his cock, already leaking and raring to go. He'd say it had a mind of its own, except they did manage to agree on most things. Corny's ass was definitely one of them. Weird, though. He wanted to go slower than usual and actually stroked those fine, firm cheeks before he spread them, teasing at the hole instead of plunging in.
"Go on, Hammer. I thought you'd done this before."
The good-natured taunt made Verin chuckle, and he pushed forward slowly, stroking Corny's back. When his head popped through the tight ring, he actually stopped, waiting for his lover's breathing to even out and his muscles to relax.
Lover? Really? He couldn't recall even thinking the word before.
Corny didn't give him room for more thought. He shoved back hard, taking half of Verin's shaft inside him. Not the tightest place Verin had ever been, he'd been in some strange whorehouses, but Corny's scent, his deep grunts, and the way his muscles bulged and flexed made Verin's control slide. Verin's fingers dented Corny's cheeks as he gripped harder to keep him still. He pulled out slowly, relishing the slow friction, pulsed a few short thrusts, and slammed in balls deep with a throaty growl.
Corny scrabbled at the workbench, back arching. He fought Verin's hold, shoving against him with all the strength in his tree-trunk thighs. "Let me move, damn it."
Verin relented and leaned in to cover him. He reached around and got a long, guttural moan when he wrapped his fist around Corny's erection. It was a lot like riding a damn bronco with that single hold and Corny bucking up under him, their pelvises meeting with bone-jarring force.
Eyes crossed with the effort of holding back his climax, Verin slammed into Corny repeatedly, jacking him hard and fast. If only Corny wasn't one of those men who couldn't get off while he was taking it…ah, no, there it went. His cowboy's panting escalated from hard grunts to desperate moans. The hard muscles tightened under Verin, then around him.
"God…oh, fuck…Verin!" Corny bellowed his name as he stampeded to climax, his spunk shooting hot and sticky on the workbench and Verin's hand.
Verin wanted so badly to lay his head down on that broad back, but the damn horns. He forced himself to hover above Corny, crying out wordless expletives as Corny tried to squeeze the life out of him. Dizzy waves of ecstasy almost had him passing out as he pumped himself dry inside that constricting channel.
Still panting, Corny reached back and patted his hip. "Damn good ride."
"So I guess you don't care much that we're a pack of filthy sodomites."
"Hell, no. Don't think I'd much care if you were some demon straight from hell."
Verin stiffened and blinked before realizing it was just a colorful expression. Oh, be careful what you call down on yourself, human. "Ha. Good to hear."
He helped Corny up and even brought him a rag to clean up the jizz on himself and the workbench.
This is the part where I say thanks and walk away. Why aren't I walking away? Feet? What's wrong with you?
Corny pulled his jeans back on and stomped into his boots. After he picked his shirt up, he took the two steps to Verin and brushed his knuckles along Verin's jaw. "Thank you. I mean that."
Too stunned to move, he stood there gaping like an idiot as Corny leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "Um. You're welcome?"
"I'd be up for another round but we'd better get that hay out to the corrals before Zeke has our hides."
"Yeah." Not walking away. Thank you kisses. What was the world coming to?