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“Didn’t take you for a horse person,” I say.
“I like horses,” he tosses over his shoulder. “At least friendly ones. Never ridden one, but always wanted to try.”
I’m not really listening to his words. I’m staring at his ass. Tonight, Scrap’s wearing faded jeans slung low on his hips. I’ve sucked the man off, but other than seeing him shuffle between the shower and his bunk, I’ve never gotten a good look at him naked. Suddenly, Iwantto see him naked. I want to know if his glutes are as tanned and toned as the rest of him.
The weather is warmer here than back home, so he’s left his hoodie inside. The ribbed, white tank tops he favors hug him like a second skin, and tonight is no exception. In the golden light of the bare bulbs above us, his skin looks ridiculously lickable.
“I had a ride in mind for you, tonight,” Rev says to Scrap in a voice that’s somehow both silk and gravel and the same time. He stalks my way and squeezes my shoulder, reaching up to do so because of our height difference. “But on a different kind of animal. One that’s not nearly as tame as that mare.”
He’s talking about me. He wants Scrap to ride…me.
With my shoulder still tingling from his squeeze, Rev stalks away and grabs a Navajo patterned blanket off a workbench. He snaps it out and lays it on a soft-looking mound of hay. I immediately picture lying back on that blanket and having Scrap squat over me, slick asshole over my ready dick. I wouldn’t risk hurting Cora with my fat log of man meat or with an unintended pregnancy, but I’d be willing to try with Scrap. No risk of pregnancy with a dude, and if I’m too big for him to take, no harm no foul. I’m willing to bet he can take me, though. With plenty of preparation, of course. Melissa took me that way more than a few times. She was about Scrap’s size, and she loved it. I used to stretch her so good. I’ll stretch Scrap so good.
My dick is fully on board. So much that I find myself crowding over Scrap. The horse flicks its ears in annoyance at my intrusion, but I’m more interested in Scrap’s reaction.
He turns from the stall door and smirks up at me. “Orhecould rideme.” He’s looking at me but talking to Rev. His words make the image in my head reverse. Now, it’s Scrap lying on his back on that Navajo blanket, and the one sinking down over him, hole slicked and ready, is me. It’shishard cock that fillsmyass in this picture.
While I’m not exactly turned off by the thought, it does strike up a jangle of nerves.
“I’m not a bottom,” I say automatically. I might be suddenly bi, and I might be submissive in the right hands, but I’m not about to open up my asshole to anyone new. I used to let Melissa peg me. It was something she liked to do while wearing a harness. I didn’t mind it, but it didn’t exactly get me going. It was more for foreplay for her. She got off on the power switch. I’ve never let anyone but her go there, and I hadn’t planned on it ever again.
“Hey,” Scrap says. His smirk falls. “There’s nothing wrong with being a bottom.”
“For you,” I shoot back.
He shoves my shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean? You calling me a twink? You think just because I’m the smallest one in this barn, it’s my ass that’s up for grabs? That how it works, big guy?”
My hands make fists at my sides, an automatic reaction to anger being directed at me.
Scrap makes a strangled noise, and the stall door rattles as his back hits it. Hard. The kid got lifted up a couple inches and thrown into the door. By invisible hands.
His feet scuff in the dirt floor as he gets them under him again. His hand goes to his throat, as if someone gripped him there.
Shit, shit, shit!
I shake out my fists, willing the anger to leave me.
Rev steps between us. He thrusts an open hand against my chest and bends over Scrap, whose face is red. “You okay, son?”
Scrap’s breath comes in pants. His eyes are furious on me, but he nods. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” I try to back up, but Rev makes a fist in my shirt.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He holds me firmly in place.
“This is a mistake. I’m dangerous.”
“Yeah, you’re fucking dangerous,” Scrap says. He straightens his tank top like a guy who just took a punch in a mafia movie. But he doesn’t look pissed anymore. I don’t think I hurt the kid, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.
“That’s why you need to learn control,” Rev says. “And by the way, Scrap’s not a bottom.”
Wait? What? The record-scratch statement makes me forget about my loss of control.
“That’s right, motherfucker,” Scrap says.
“But Scrapisa bottom, isn’t he? I mean…I assumed…” I trail off, uncertain. I’ve never actually witnessed him and Rev together, but I assumed Rev would top the kid, not the other way around.
“Assuming makes and ass out of ‘u,’” Scrap says.
