Sunrise Meadow

Chapter 3 of this 4-part tale.

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Dawn bled pink and gold across the meadow. Jasper broke away, eyes heavy-lidded. "Need to hose off," he murmured, thumb tracing Owen’s bottom lip. "I stink worse than the filly." He jerked his head toward the communal shower block. Steam already curled from its vents in the cool air.

Owen followed, gravel biting his bare feet. Inside, the tiled space was empty, echoing with the drip of faucets. Jasper stripped off his filthy jeans without ceremony, tossing them into a corner. Naked under the spray, he tipped his head back, water sluicing dirt and exhaustion from his shoulders, carving clean paths through the grime on his ribs. Owen shed the flannel shirt, stepping under the adjacent nozzle. The water was startlingly hot, needling his sun-pinked skin.

Jasper moved first. He crowded Owen against the slick tile wall, water cascading over them both. His calloused hand slid down Owen’s belly, bypassing his softening cock to grip his thigh firmly. "Hold there," Jasper commanded, voice low beneath the drumming spray. He dropped to his knees.

Owen gasped as Jasper’s mouth closed hot and wet around his toes, sucking gently, tongue probing the sensitive arch. Water plastered Jasper’s dark hair to his skull as he worked his way slowly upward — a lingering kiss to Owen’s inner ankle, teeth grazing a calf muscle, tongue tracing the tendon behind Owen’s knee. Owen braced himself, fingers scrabbling against wet tile, trembling as Jasper’s mouth moved higher, breath ghosting over the tender skin of his inner thigh. Jasper paused there, nose nudging Owen’s balls, looking up. His eyes, dark and intent in the steam, held Owen pinned more surely than hands ever could.

The distant clang of the breakfast bell shattered the moment. Jasper sighed, resting his forehead against Owen’s hipbone for a heartbeat before rising. Water streamed down his face.

"Damn timing," he muttered, but his thumb traced Owen’s hip as he stood. The heat in his eyes hadn't cooled. "Tonight. My cabin. No interruptions." He turned off the spray with a sharp twist, grabbing a towel.

Owen watched the muscles shift in Jasper’s back as he dried roughly, the water beading on scars and hard-won strength. Jasper tossed Owen a towel without looking back. "Eat fast. We’ve got fence posts to sink in the north pasture." He strode out, leaving wet footprints on the tiles. Owen dressed slowly, Jasper’s promise echoing louder than the bell.

The mess hall buzzed with morning energy — men scraping benches, clattering plates, the rich smell of coffee and fried potatoes thick in the air. Jasper sat near Hank, shoveling eggs with single-minded focus. Owen filled his plate, the scrape of his fork unnaturally loud in his own ears. He felt eyes on him — Jasper’s — a hot, tangible pressure across the crowded table. When Owen glanced up, Jasper merely raised his coffee mug, a slow, deliberate tilt acknowledging his presence before turning back to Hank’s low growl about the stubborn fence line.

Sunlight hammered the north pasture. Jasper handed Owen a post-hole digger, his fingers brushing Owen’s palm deliberately as their hands met on the worn wooden handle. "Dig deep," Jasper instructed, voice low. "Shallow roots won’t hold."

Sweat trickled down Owen’s spine within minutes. Jasper worked shirtless nearby, swinging a sledgehammer with brutal efficiency. Each strike drove a cedar post deeper into the rocky soil, the *thud* vibrating through the ground. Jasper’s shoulders flexed, sweat sheening his skin, dust clinging to the dark hair on his chest.

Owen watched the powerful rhythm of Jasper’s labor — the coil and release of muscle, the gritted teeth, the way his jeans rode low on his hips with each swing. Heat pooled low in Owen’s belly, unrelated to the sun.

At noon, Hank tossed them canteens. Jasper drained his, water sluicing down his chin and chest. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze locking onto Owen. "Keep up," he challenged, a spark in his eyes as he snatched the sledgehammer again.

The afternoon stretched, grueling. Jasper’s presence was a constant, simmering distraction — the scent of his sweat on the dry wind, the flex of his forearm as he braced a post, the occasional glance loaded with purpose.

When Hank finally called a halt, Jasper dropped his tools. He walked straight to Owen, stopping inches away. "Still standing?" he asked, voice rough. Owen nodded, throat dry. Jasper’s grin was fierce. He reached out, calloused thumb smearing dirt from Owen’s cheekbone. The touch lingered, electric. "Good," Jasper murmured. "See you tonight." He turned toward the barn, leaving Owen rooted, heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. The promise hung heavy in the dusty air.

The late afternoon sun slanted across Jasper’s cabin as Owen approached. The door stood open, lantern light spilling onto the porch boards. Inside, Jasper leaned against the bunk frame, barefoot, shirt unbuttoned, a tin cup of whiskey dangling from his fingers. He watched Owen cross the threshold. “Lock it,” he said, low and deliberate. Owen slid the bolt home with trembling hands.

Jasper pushed off the bunk, closing the distance. He set the whiskey aside, never breaking eye contact. His hands settled on Owen’s hips, thumbs hooking under Owen’s waistband. “Took you long enough,” he breathed, lips brushing Owen’s ear. The scent of sweat and saddle soap clung to him, primal and intoxicating. Owen shivered, surrendering to Jasper’s grip as jeans pooled at his ankles.

The setting sunlight filtered through the window. Jasper traced Owen’s spine with knuckles, slow and deliberate. “Remember the creek?” His touch dipped lower. “The cold water?” He turned Owen around, pressing him against the cool wood wall. Jasper’s knee nudged Owen’s legs apart. Rough palms slid up Owen’s thighs, mapping every tremor. “You shook.” Jasper’s breath hitched. “Like you’re shaking now.”

Owen gasped as Jasper’s teeth grazed his shoulder blade. Jasper’s whiskey-scented chuckle vibrated against Owen’s skin. “Patience,” he warned, hands tightening possessively. Outside, coyotes yipped in the distant hills. Jasper stilled, listening, then nipped Owen’s earlobe. “Just us,” he whispered. The night held its breath.

He spun Owen abruptly, pressing him into the bunk’s rough wool blanket. Jasper knelt, lifting Owen’s hips effortlessly. His stubble scraped the tender skin of Owen’s inner thigh. Owen arched, fingers twisting in the blanket as Jasper’s tongue traced slow, deliberate circles. The calloused pads of Jasper’s thumbs dug into Owen’s hipbones, anchoring him. “Don’t move,” Jasper murmured against his skin, breath hot. A droplet of sweat traced Jasper’s spine, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

Owen choked back a moan as Jasper’s tongue dipped lower, exploring with agonizing thoroughness. The lantern light flickered, casting dancing shadows that mirrored the tremors in Owen’s legs. Jasper’s palm slid beneath him, fingers pressing firmly upward, finding a spot that made Owen cry out, the sound muffled by the blanket clenched in his teeth. Jasper smiled against his skin — a predatory flash — before intensifying the pressure. Owen’s back bowed off the bunk, muscles straining. Dust motes swirled in the golden light, settling on Jasper’s sweat-damp shoulders.

A sudden pounding rattled the cabin door. Jasper froze, lips still pressed against Owen’s inner thigh, breath ragged. “Jasper!” Hank’s voice boomed through the wood. “Barn fire! Lightning strike!” Jasper swore, surging upright, sweat gleaming on his temples. Owen scrambled back, heart hammering against his ribs as Jasper yanked on his jeans, buttoning them with rough urgency.

He tossed Owen’s shirt toward the bunk. “Get dressed,” Jasper ordered, voice clipped. “Stay here.” But Owen pulled the shirt over his head, ignoring the trembling in his hands. He followed Jasper into the chaotic night.

Orange light flickered against the barn wall. Smoke billowed thick and acrid, stinging Owen’s eyes. Men ran with buckets, silhouetted against the flames licking the hayloft door. Jasper grabbed a soaked burlap sack, shouting commands. “Douse the stalls! Move the bays!” He vaulted onto the water trough, dousing the sack again before scrambling up the ladder.

Owen seized a bucket, joining the chain passing water from the pump. The icy slosh numbed his hands. Sparks showered down as Jasper beat at the flames above, a dark shape swallowed by smoke and violent motion. The heat pressed against Owen’s face, drying his throat. He tasted ash, felt the grit of it settling on his lips.

A beam groaned overhead. Jasper dropped heavily onto the ladder, coughing. Soot streaked his chest like war paint. He stumbled toward Owen, eyes bloodshot. “Contained,” he rasped, grabbing Owen’s shoulder for balance. His palm burned through the thin shirt.

Hank approached, wiping soot from his brow. “Loft’s gone,” he grunted. “But stalls are safe. Thanks to him.” He nodded at Jasper, respect heavy in his gaze. Jasper just leaned harder into Owen, breath hot against his ear. “Not done,” he murmured, low and raw. “Just delayed.”

Owen guided Jasper toward the cabin, the promise simmering in the smoky dark.

Inside, Jasper slumped onto the bunk, trembling from exertion. Soot coated his skin, etching lines around his eyes. Owen wet a cloth from the basin, kneeling before him. He wiped gently at Jasper’s ash-streaked chest, the water turning gray instantly. Jasper caught his wrist. “Leave it,” he rasped. His thumb brushed Owen’s knuckles. “I need *you*, not a bath.” The heat in his eyes hadn’t dimmed, despite the exhaustion.

Footsteps approached. Hank’s silhouette filled the doorway, lantern light haloing him. “Loft’s secured,” he announced, voice gravelly. “Fire’s out.” His gaze shifted to Jasper, then Owen’s soot-smudged shirt. “Rest. Both of you.” He tossed a bottle onto the bunk. “Whiskey. For the shock.” Jasper nodded curt thanks as Hank retreated, leaving the door ajar. The distant shouts of men damping embers drifted through the gap.

Jasper uncorked the bottle, taking a long swig. He offered it to Owen. The whiskey burned fiercer than the smoke had, warming Owen’s throat. Jasper’s hand settled on Owen’s nape, pulling him closer until their foreheads touched. Ash and sweat and whiskey mingled in Owen’s nostrils. Jasper’s breath hitched. “Thought of you,” he confessed, low and rough. “Up there. Kept me fighting.” His lips brushed Owen’s temple — a ghost of a kiss.

Silence stretched, thick with unsaid things. Jasper’s thumb traced Owen’s jawline. Then, with a groan, he shifted, tugging Owen onto the narrow bunk beside him. They lay tangled, boots kicked off, legs entwined. Jasper’s arm hooked around Owen’s waist, anchoring him. “Stay,” he murmured into Owen’s hair. “Just … stay. Please.”

Outside, the coyotes sang again, distant now. Owen pressed his face against Jasper’s shoulder, tasting salt and smoke, feeling the frantic pulse beneath his skin gradually slow. The night held them close, unfinished but fiercely alive.

Owen woke to dawn’s gray light filtering through the cabin window. Jasper’s arm still lay heavy across his waist, fingers curled loosely into Owen’s shirt. The whiskey bottle stood half-empty on the floor. Outside, the ranch stirred — the distant chime of a harness, Hank’s low command to the bay geldings.

Jasper stirred, his breath catching as consciousness returned. His eyes opened, bloodshot but sharp, locking onto Owen’s. Without a word, he pulled Owen closer, burying his face in the crook of Owen’s neck. The scratch of Jasper’s stubble against Owen’s skin was a raw, grounding thing.

Footsteps crunched on gravel outside the cabin. Hank’s shadow darkened the doorway. “Barn crew’s assessing the loft damage,” he announced, voice rough with fatigue. “Jasper — you’re on fence patrol. North ridge. Storm split three posts.” Jasper nodded against Owen’s shoulder but didn’t move. Hank’s gaze lingered on their tangled limbs. “City boy,” he added, softer, “help Ben in the kitchen. Breakfast rush.” The door creaked shut behind him.

Silence stretched. Jasper finally lifted his head, his thumb tracing the soot smudge on Owen’s cheekbone. “Tonight,” he vowed, voice graveled from smoke and sleep. “No fires. No interruptions.” He rolled off the bunk, jeans stiff with dried ash, and tossed Owen a clean shirt from a hook. “Wear this.” The fabric smelled of saddle soap and Jasper — musky, familiar.

The mess hall hummed. Men clustered around Ben’s stove, plates piled high with eggs and frybread. Owen scrubbed pots in scalding water, steam curling his hair, while Ben barked orders. Jasper slid past the counter, bumping Owen’s hip with his own. He grabbed a biscuit, his fingers brushing Owen’s wet wrist.

“Ride out after chores,” he murmured, too low for Ben to hear. “Meet me at the willow grove. Sundown.” His knuckle grazed Owen’s palm — a fleeting, electric promise — before he vanished into the crowd.

Sunlight hammered the north ridge. Jasper swung a sledgehammer, driving a new post into rocky soil, muscles corded with effort. Owen hauled splintered timber, sweat stinging his eyes. At noon, Hank tossed them canteens.

Jasper drank deep, water sluicing down his soot-streaked chest. He caught Owen staring, a slow grin spreading. “Keep looking like that,” he warned, voice thick, “and we won’t make sundown.” He wiped his mouth, handed Owen the canteen, their fingers tangling briefly. The shared warmth of the metal, the unspoken hunger in Jasper’s eyes — Owen’s throat went dry.

Dusk bled crimson over the meadow as Owen approached the willows. Jasper waited beneath the trembling leaves, Raven and Daisy grazing nearby. He turned, fireflies glinting in his dark eyes. “No saddles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Just us.” Owen took it, Jasper’s grip fierce and certain.

The creek murmured below, a silver thread in the twilight. Jasper pulled him close, lips finding Owen’s temple. “Now,” he breathed. “No more waiting.” The night opened its arms.

They mounted bareback, Jasper’s calloused fingers guiding Owen’s thigh over Daisy’s warm flank. No pads this time — just skin on sun-warmed hide, the coarse hair tickling Owen’s inner thighs. Jasper nudged Raven forward, knee pressing Owen’s leg. “Follow my lead,” he murmured, voice rough velvet.

They rode west, away from the ranch lights, hooves silent on damp earth. Jasper guided them into a stand of cottonwoods, moonlight filtering through trembling leaves. Dismounting, he tethered the horses loosely, their soft snorts the only sound.

Jasper turned, eyes black pools in the gloom. He stepped close, palm sliding up Owen’s chest, thumb brushing a nipple. Owen gasped as Jasper’s other hand gripped his hipbone, fingers digging in possessively. “Against the tree,” Jasper commanded, low and urgent. “Now.”

Owen stumbled backward, rough bark scraping his shoulder blades. Jasper crowded him, knee nudging Owen’s thighs apart. His mouth crashed onto Owen’s — hot, insistent, tasting of dust and wild sage. Jasper’s hands roamed — down Owen’s ribs, over his hips, fingers curling around his hardening length. Owen arched into the touch, a choked moan escaping as Jasper stroked him slowly, deliberately.

“Quiet,” Jasper breathed against his lips, thumb swirling the head. “Or you’ll scare the owls.” He dropped to his knees, gaze locked on Owen’s. Jasper’s stubble scraped Owen’s inner thigh as he leaned in, tongue tracing the sensitive crease where leg met groin. Owen trembled, fingers tangling in Jasper’s dark hair. Jasper nipped the skin, then took Owen deep — hot, wet suction that stole Owen’s breath. Stars blurred overhead as Jasper worked him, one hand gripping Owen’s hip, the other sliding lower, fingers pressing firmly behind his balls. Owen cried out, hips jerking uncontrollably. Jasper hummed approval, vibration rippling through Owen’s core.

The climax hit like lightning — white-hot and silent, sperm jetting down Jasper’s throat. Jasper swallowed, then rose, pressing Owen harder against the tree. His own arousal ground against Owen’s thigh, hard and demanding. “My turn,” he rasped, hand fumbling between them.

A few rough strokes, Jasper’s forehead pressed to Owen’s shoulder, and he shuddered, warm sperm spreading sticky between them. They slumped together, breathing ragged, the tree’s rough embrace the only anchor.

Jasper nuzzled Owen’s throat. “Told you,” he murmured, lips brushing Owen’s pulse. “No barriers.” Fireflies sparked around them as the night sighed.

They washed in the creek’s silver current, gasping at the icy bite. Water sluiced Jasper’s shoulders, moonlight catching the droplets. He tossed Owen his damp shirt. “Dry off,” he ordered softly, palm lingering on Owen’s hipbone. “Cold sets in fast out here.”

Back at the corral, Hank leaned against the gatepost, lantern light carving shadows in his weathered face. Jasper unsaddled Raven with quick, efficient tugs. “Barn’s secure,” Hank announced, voice gravelly. “Loft’s ash. But the bays are calm.” He eyed Owen’s damp shirt clinging to his torso. “City boy. You handled yourself.” Jasper’s knuckle brushed Owen’s spine — a silent claim.

Inside the lodge, embers glowed in the hearth. Jasper poured whiskey into tin cups, handing one to Owen. The burn mirrored the heat still simmering in Owen’s belly.

Hank settled into his armchair, boots propped on the hearthstone. “Rule stands,” he said, sharp eyes on Jasper. “What happens under stars stays there.” His gaze shifted to Owen. “But eyes open. Hearts snag easy in open country.”

Jasper’s knee bumped Owen’s under the table — a promise, a warning.

Later, on the path to cabin seven, Jasper stopped beneath the gnarled oak. His thumb traced Owen’s jaw. “Tomorrow,” he breathed, whiskey and sage on his tongue. “Storm’s coming. We ride the ridge at dawn.” He leaned in, teeth grazing Owen’s earlobe. “Bareback. Like tonight.”

A shiver tore through Owen — part anticipation, part fear of the looming sky. Jasper’s chuckle vibrated low. “I’ll keep you safe.” He pressed a final, bruising kiss to Owen’s mouth before vanishing into the dark.

The oak leaves whispered above. Owen touched his swollen lips, tasting thunder.

Dawn broke bruised purple and gray, the ridge a jagged silhouette against the storm’s underbelly. Owen found Jasper by the corral, bareback on Raven, Daisy’s reins loose in his fist. Rain spat against their skin. Jasper said nothing, just handed Owen the leathers. His gaze was flint.

They rode into the wind, hooves sinking into mud-slicked earth. Rain lashed Owen’s chest, icy needles biting where Jasper’s gaze had warmed hours before. Jasper kept Raven close, his thigh pressing Owen’s knee whenever Daisy slipped on loose scree. Below, the valley vanished behind a shroud of rain. Jasper leaned in, rain dripping from his jaw onto Owen’s shoulder. “Higher,” he shouted over the gale. “See it clear.”

At the crest, they dismounted beneath a granite overhang. Wind howled through the gap, plastering wet hair to their faces. Jasper gripped Owen’s hips, backing him against cold rock. His mouth found Owen’s throat — not gentle, but claiming, teeth scraping the pulse point.

Rainwater ran between their pressed bodies. Jasper’s hands slid down Owen’s spine, rough palms tracing the dip above his ass. “Feel that?” Jasper breathed against his ear, grinding his erection against Owen’s thigh. “The storm? It’s us.” Owen arched, gasping as Jasper’s fingers dug into wet muscle.

Lightning split the sky — a jagged white tear. Thunder followed, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Jasper laughed, wild and sharp, pulling Owen’s hips flush against his. “No fences now,” he growled. Water streamed down Jasper’s chest as he dropped to his knees in the mud. His mouth was relentless heat against Owen’s chilled skin, tongue swirling the head of his cock before taking him deep. Owen cried out, fingers twisting in Jasper’s soaked hair, the storm’s roar swallowing the sound. Jasper sucked, hard and rhythmic, rain sluicing over his shoulders, until Owen shuddered, spilling down Jasper’s throat with a silent gasp.

Jasper rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He pressed Owen against the granite once more, guiding Owen’s trembling fingers to his own straining length. “Your turn,” he commanded, voice raw. Owen fumbled, then found the rhythm Jasper showed him — rough strokes under the downpour. Jasper groaned, head thrown back, tendons straining as he spent himself over Owen’s fist, the rain washing it away instantly. They slumped together, breathing ragged, the storm raging around their fragile shelter.

Hooves splashed through swollen streams on the descent. Jasper rode close, his knuckles brushing Owen’s thigh — a silent anchor. Back at the corral, Hank stood under the barn eaves, arms crossed. Jasper met his stare, unflinching. Hank spat into the mud. “Ridge held?” Jasper nodded. Hank’s eyes flickered to Owen’s rain-streaked skin. “Good.” He tossed Jasper a dry sack. “Dry off. Then rebuild what broke.” Jasper caught it, his gaze finding Owen’s. The promise smoldered in the storm’s aftermath.

Inside the lodge, the fire crackled. Jasper peeled off his soaked jeans, standing naked by the hearth. Steam rose off his skin. Owen mimicked him, the heat seeping into his chilled bones. Jasper poured whiskey — two fingers each in tin cups. The burn echoed the storm’s fury. Hank entered, dripping. “Hayloft’s gone,” he grunted, rubbing his beard. “But the bays... they’re spooked. Need steady hands tonight.” His eyes landed on Jasper. “Yours.”

Jasper’s jaw tightened. He drained his cup. “Done.” Hank tossed him a lantern. “Sunrise shift.” The door slammed shut behind him. Silence thickened. Jasper’s knuckle brushed Owen’s hip. “Later,” he promised, voice rough. “Midnight. My cabin.” He pulled Owen close, tasting of rain and regret. “Wait for me.”

Owen paced cabin seven’s plank floor, the storm howling outside. Midnight came and went. The latch finally clicked. Jasper stood silhouetted, soaked again, lantern light carving shadows under his eyes. “Wind snapped a paddock fence,” he rasped, stepping inside. “Colt got out.” Mud streaked his chest. “Took an hour.” He kicked the door shut. “But I’m here.” His hands found Owen’s waist, pulling him flush against wet skin and chilled muscle. “No more waiting.”

He backed Owen toward the bunk, kissing him deep — whiskey and creek water and exhaustion. His calloused palms slid down Owen’s back, fingers digging into the curve of his ass. Owen gasped as Jasper lifted him, dropping him onto the thin mattress. Jasper followed, knees nudging Owen’s thighs apart. His mouth trailed hot, biting kisses down Owen’s sternum.

“Need you,” Jasper growled against his hipbone. “Now.” His hand wrapped around Owen’s cock, rough and urgent. Owen arched, fingers twisting in Jasper’s damp hair. Outside, the wind screamed. Inside, Jasper’s rhythm was relentless — a counterpoint to the storm. Owen came with a choked cry, spilling over Jasper’s fist. Jasper followed moments later, shuddering against Owen’s thigh, forehead pressed to Owen’s collarbone. They lay tangled in the dark, breath syncing, the storm’s fury fading to a murmur.

Jasper’s thumb traced Owen’s jaw. “Dawn,” he murmured. “We ride.” His arm tightened, anchoring Owen against the night.

*****

The cabin door groaned open. Cold air sliced through the warmth Jasper’s body had left behind. Owen pulled Jasper’s borrowed shirt tighter — its scent of sage and saddle soap clinging — and stepped onto the porch. Frost silvered the grass, dawn a razor-cut line on the horizon. Jasper waited by the corral, bareback on Raven, Daisy’s reins loose in his grip. No words. Just the cloud of their breath mingling in the frigid air as Owen mounted. Jasper’s knee pressed his — a silent command to stay close.

They rode east, hooves crunching frozen earth. The world sharpened: ice-glazed pine needles, the metallic tang of cold, Raven’s steam rising in plumes. Jasper led them toward the canyon’s edge where yesterday’s storm had clawed at the land. Wind whipped Owen’s face, stealing warmth.

Jasper reined in abruptly where the trail crumbled into scree. "Here," he said, voice rough as shale. He dismounted, boots sinking into mud-slush, and crouched by a snapped fence post. "Hold this." His hand closed over Owen’s, guiding it to grip splintered wood while Jasper hammered a replacement. Owen flinched at the vibration traveling up his arm, Jasper’s shoulder pressed hard against his ribs.

Sunlight breached the ridge, gilding Jasper’s sweat-slicked back. He straightened, wiping grime from his brow with a forearm. "See that?" He pointed west where the canyon deepened, shadows pooling like ink. "Cougar track. Fresh." His gaze locked onto Owen’s. "Scared?"

Owen shook his head, pulse drumming in his throat. Jasper’s calloused palm cupped his jaw. "Liar." Then he kissed him — deep and claiming — tongue tasting of cold and iron. Owen gasped into his mouth as Jasper’s hand slid down his spine, fingers digging into the muscle above his ass.

A branch snapped in the thicket below. Jasper broke away, eyes narrowed. "Mount up. Now." They swung onto the horses, Jasper’s thigh pressing Owen’s knee as Daisy skittered sideways. Ravens erupted from the pines, black wings stark against the sky. Jasper’s hand settled on Owen’s thigh. "Steady," he murmured. The thicket rustled again. Jasper’s fingers tightened. "Ride."

They moved uphill, hooves muffled on icy moss. Jasper scanned the tree line, jaw tight. At the ridge crest, he halted Raven. Below, a tawny shape melted into shadow. Jasper’s breath fogged the air. "She’s hunting. Not us." He turned Daisy’s head east. "Quiet now."

Back in the valley, frost still clung to the shaded grasses. Jasper reined in beside the creek. He dismounted, boots cracking the ice at the water’s edge. Owen slid down beside him. Jasper gripped his hips, backing him against Raven’s warm flank. The horse snorted softly.

"Cold?" Jasper’s palms slid up Owen’s ribs, rough skin catching on his shirt. Owen shivered — not from chill. Jasper’s thumb brushed a nipple through the damp fabric. "Good." He leaned in, biting Owen’s earlobe. "Feel everything." His teeth scraped Owen’s throat as his hand slid lower, palming Owen’s hardening length through the jeans. Owen gasped, arching into the touch. Raven shifted, his warmth seeping into Owen’s back.

Jasper dropped to his knees in the frozen reeds, fingers tugging at Owen’s belt buckle. Ice crystals glittered on his lashes. "Watch the tree line," he ordered. Owen’s pulse hammered as Jasper freed him, the sudden cold air a shock before Jasper’s mouth engulfed him — hot, wet suction chasing the bite of winter. Owen’s fingers tangled in Jasper’s hair, knuckles white.

Above, a hawk circled. Jasper hummed, the vibration tearing a moan from Owen’s throat. Jasper’s hands gripped his hips, holding him still as he worked, tongue swirling, throat flexing. Owen’s knees buckled; Jasper held him upright against Raven’s steady bulk.

Pressure coiled, fierce and sudden. Jasper’s groan echoed Owen’s silent release as warmth spilled down Jasper’s throat. He rose, wiping his mouth, eyes dark with triumph. "Told you," he rasped, pulling Owen close. "No fences."

Back at the corral, Hank tossed Jasper a coil of wire. "East pasture," he grunted, eyeing Owen’s flushed skin. "Wire’s down. Fix it."

Jasper caught it, knuckle brushing Owen’s spine. "Ride with me."

They drove the flatbed toward the east pasture, wire rattling like coiled tension. Jasper steered one-handed, the other tracing idle patterns on Owen’s knee — each stroke deliberate, promising. The truck bounced over ruts, jolting them shoulder-to-shoulder. Owen stared at Jasper’s dust-caked knuckles, remembering their grip against his hips in the creek.

At the fallen fence, Jasper tossed Owen gloves. "Hold it taut." His voice was gravel, eyes lingering on Owen’s mouth. They worked in sync — Jasper driving staples while Owen strained against the wire’s bite, the sun baking their bare backs. Jasper’s sweat traced the valley of his spine, dripping into the waistband of his jeans.

When Owen’s grip slipped, Jasper’s hand closed over his, repositioning his fingers on the pliers. "Like this," he murmured, breath hot on Owen’s neck. The contact lingered, sparking heat low in Owen’s belly.

The wire snapped taut. Jasper drove a staple deep into the weathered post with a final hammer blow. "Done." He wiped sweat from his brow, gaze sweeping the pasture. Late sun bronzed his shoulders, catching the dust motes swirling around them.

Jasper stepped close, knuckles brushing Owen’s cheekbone. "You're bleeding." A shallow scratch from barbed wire marred Owen’s forearm. Jasper lifted it, pressing his lips to the wound — a slow, deliberate kiss that stole Owen’s breath.

The truck engine ticked as it cooled. Jasper’s thumb traced Owen’s jawline. "Ride back’s smoother," he said, voice low, "but I want a detour." He jerked his chin toward the willow thicket edging the creek. "Help me scout flood damage."

Beneath the willows, dusk painted the air violet-green. Jasper halted where storm-swollen water had gouged the bank, exposing roots like tangled veins. He knelt, fingers probing mud. "Here," he murmured, pulling Owen down beside him. His palm slid up Owen’s thigh, rough with calluses. "Ground’s unstable."

Their knees sank into cold silt. Jasper’s hand lingered, heat seeping through denim. "Need to feel it hold," he insisted, fingers tightening. Owen trembled, the creek’s chill rising as Jasper leaned in, lips grazing his temple. "Relax."

Suddenly, Jasper gripped Owen’s hips, rolling him onto his back in the damp earth. Mud seeped into Owen’s shirt. Jasper straddled him, pinning wrists above his head. "Quiet," Jasper breathed, eyes scanning the thicket. "Heard branches crack." His hips ground down, erection pressing hard against Owen’s.

Silence stretched — only the creek’s rush and Owen’s ragged breath. Jasper’s gaze dropped, predatory. "False alarm." He released Owen’s wrists, hands sliding under his shirt, smearing mud up his ribs. "You’re filthy."

Owen arched, mud cool beneath him, Jasper’s touch scorching. Jasper ripped the shirt open, buttons pinging into darkness. His mouth descended on Owen’s collarbone — biting, sucking — as his fingers fumbled with Owen’s belt. Cold air hit Owen’s hips as denim slid down.

Jasper knelt back, eyes raking Owen’s nakedness. "Perfect," he growled, shoving his own jeans low. He gripped Owen’s thighs, hauling him closer. Mud slicked their skin as Jasper thrust in — rough, deep, no preparation. Owen cried out, fingers clawing at roots. Jasper swallowed the sound with a kiss, tongue demanding, hips pounding relentless.


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