Me: Sure. Come over. I’m just getting ready.
Sliding off the horse,I take in my surroundings. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how beautiful and serene it is up here,” I mutterto Cope as he comes to stand behind me, his arms looping around my middle as he holds me close to his chest.
We took the trail ride and came up to the same spot he brought me to the first time we went on a ride together. The river is below, shimmering in the afternoon sun, and the mountain peaks surround us as far as the eye can see. It’s like something you’d see on the front of a postcard.
After we make sure the horses aren’t going to sneak off on us, I lay a blanket down as Cope grabs the food he packed from his backpack. Some meats, cheeses, and fruit in various Tupperware containers sit before us. Everything my aunt said to me this morning still replays on a loop in my mind as we eat in a comfortable silence, both of us taking in the view. It’s relaxing being up here with him; something I could see myself getting used to.
Once we finish eating, we put the empty containers back in his backpack, and I move to lay in between his legs, my back to his front. His arms wrap tightly around me, his masculine scent enveloping me. I love the way we’re able to spend time together without filling every moment with useless small talk. We can simply exist, enjoy the presence of one another.
The air’s a little chilly, but I’m nice and toasty warm here in Cope’s arms.
“I told my parents about us,” Cope says softly beside my ear.
It surprises me, and when I turn my head to meet his gaze, a grin slides on my face. “Did you now?”
He nods, a mirroring smile on his face.
“What did you tell them?”
“Just basic stuff,” he says. “Where you’re from, what brought you here, how we met, how much you mean to me.” That last part has my stomach fluttering.
“What did they say?” It’s not until this very moment that I realize how important it is to me that his parents like me. Whenhe introduced us over speakerphone, they couldn’t have been kinder. He’s so close with them, their opinion obviously matters a lot. If they hate me—or worse, hate that I’m a man—it could ruin any future Cope and I have together.
“They said they could tell something more was going on after we all talked. They’re excited to meet you,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. He must sense the internal panic I’m feeling.
“They don’t care that…I’m not a woman?”
Cope’s brows crease together. “Not at all. My mom was giddy as can be and my dad was supportive, as always. They’re happy that I’m happy. It’s truly all they really want for their child.”
Some of the panic subsides. “I’m happy that you’re happy too,” I murmur before capturing his lips in a quick, but deep kiss.
“When do you leave for the rodeo?” I ask him when we pull apart.
“In about a month.” His deep voice vibrates from his chest, through my back that’s pressed against him.
“You excited?”
I feel him nod. “Yeah, but it sucks that I have to leave you.” Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he murmurs, “You should come with me.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “You’re just full of ideas lately, aren’t you?”
“I’m serious,” he goes on. “It doesn’t have to be for the whole season. I know that’s not feasible, but maybe for a little bit.”
My aunt’s words come back to me. About my excuses. About the farm hand she has now, and her insistence that I shouldn’t use her as a reason to not go after what I want. What feels right.
“I’m sure I can come for a little while,” I finally say quietly.
“Yeah?” I can hear the smile in his voice.
Nodding, I smile too. “Yeah. I’d love to get to see you in action.”
Cope’s hands sneak under the hem of my shirt, palms caressing my bare skin. A chill races through me, the touch sending a shot of arousal to my groin. “I’d love that too,” he murmurs huskily, lips right beside the shell of my ear.
And just like that, the air around us shifts. It thickens as my need for him grows. He must be able to sense it, because the next moment, one of his hands is trailing lower until he reaches the waistband of my jeans. With skilled precision, he flicks open the button, sliding the zipper down, and he dips his hand underneath my boxers, palming my hardening cock. My head lolls against his shoulder, a deep-throated groan sounding as bolts of electricity ping-pong through my body.
“Cope…” His name leaves my lips on a breath as his fist begins to move ever so slowly up the length of me.
“You like that?” he asks, lust drenching his tone.
