Seventeen
Hollis
Ispot my best friend as soon as I step inside The Rusty Spur. He’s in one of the back corner booths, messing around on his phone, with a tray of nachos in front of him. Strolling through the bar, I slide in across from him, grabbing one of the fully loaded chips and popping it in my mouth.
“Fuck, that’s tasty,” I murmur in between chewing.
Remi sets his phone down on the table before grabbing one for himself. He flicks his gaze up to me and wrinkles his nose. “Dude, you fuckin’ stink,” he says, the corner of his lip twitching.
“Fuck you.” I chuckle as I grab another chip. “I didn’t wanna keep you waitin’ here, so I didn’t run home and shower once I finished with work.”
“Next time, be late, my friend.”
“This is the smell of a hardworkin’ man,my friend. What do ya know about that?”
Remi snorts. “I know hard work. That’s just plain cow manure and sweat.”
Flipping him off, he huffs a laugh as I grab my phone from my pocket. My pulse kicks up when I see a notification from Ford. After he fucked me last week, I insisted we exchange phone numbers. He fought me on it, but in the end, I won. I always win.
Daddy Ford: Mmm… That all for me?
Heat spreads low in my groin as I thumb out a response.
Me: I don’t know… You took so long to reply, maybe I got someone else to take care of it for me. *smirk emoji*
About halfway through the day, I snuck out behind the barn and sent Ford a picture of my cock—a glorious one, if I do say so myself.
“Why’re you smilin’ like that?” Remi asks, pulling my attention away from my phone.
Shaking my head, I slip it back into my pocket. “No reason.”
“Bullshit. Who is it?”
“Just some guy I met onHive.”
It’s nottechnicallya lie, but it still tastes bitter on my tongue. I enjoy fucking with Remi and telling him how hot his boss is, but the truth is, I don’t love lying to him. It’s not something either of us does, but this is a tricky situation. Not only do I know he won’t approve of this, but it’s also not just my secret to share; it’s Ford’s too, and he specifically said he didn’t want Remi to know.
“Have you met him yet?”
“Yup. What about you?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. “Any new men on the Remi roster?”
Like me, my best friend has never really been a relationship kind of guy, butunlikeme, he hates hookup culture. He’s notinto meeting someone and immediately taking them home. Instead, he prefers a more friends-with-benefits approach. Which to me feels an awful lot like a relationship without all the labels. Keeping it strictly about the sex and nothing more is way less messy, but what do I know? I think Remi is a closeted romantic; he just hasn’t found the right person to bring out that side of him. He’d never admit that, though. Mostly because I don’t think he even knows it himself.
“Except for your dad?” he teases with a wink. “Nah, I’m kinda over the whole app thing.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes as I bite back a laugh. Grabbing my phone again, there’s a response from Ford, but it’s a picture. My dick twitches and my body heats. There’s no way I can open this in front of Remi. “Be right back,” I announce, sliding out of the booth. “Takin’ a leak.”
“Grab a pitcher of beer on your way back,” Remi calls out behind me.
Locking myself in the stall, I’m buzzing with both excitement and arousal as I pull up the message. I haven’t even seen the picture yet, and I already know it’s going to be hot as fuck.
Daddy Ford: Well, then maybe I should give this to somebody else…
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ…”
Resting my back against the stall door, I admire the work of art presented to me. This might be the nicest dick pic I’ve ever received. Sitting in a chair in what looks to be his office, Ford’s wearing his navy-blue Station 14 shirt, those sexy-ass fire pants with the red suspenders, and his helmet’s resting on his head. He’s fisting his cock, and the angle of the photo lets me see every glorious ridge and vein, making my mouth water.
Me: Absolutely fucking not.
