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Well, all right, then, Holden thought and went back to what he’d been doing before.
Several minutes passed as Holden continued to play with both his mouth and hands. He’d been rewarded with a few more drops of precum but was wondering if he should stop soon. With most guys, he’d keep going until they came, but was that going to happen with Greg? Again, Holden was struck by how much of his sexual experience was determined by erections and orgasms. Being with Greg challenged him, made him aware of a different kind of sexuality.
He kept hold of Greg’s cock but slid his mouth off. “Do you want me to keep going?” he asked and smiled when Greg nodded.
“I’ll warn you if I’m going to climax,” Greg said. “Please don’t swallow.”
Holden knew the risk of HIV infection from oral sex was low, but he also knew Greg was overly cautious, and while low, the risk wasn’t zero. He also knew he’d tasted Greg’s precum already, but this was Greg’s way of looking out for him, of making sure Holden was safe. Holden wouldn’t do anything to make Greg worry.
“I promise,” Holden said before he opened his mouth and took Greg back inside.
His first instinct was to suck Greg down hard, begin to work him with the goal of bringing him to climax, but was that what Greg wanted? Sliding off Greg’s cock again, Holden asked.
The blue in Greg’s eyes clouded over briefly. “I will if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Holden told him. “I asked if you wanted to come.”
Again, the pause before Greg answered. “I’m good either way.”
With a nod, Holden was about to return to his task, but he felt the tension in Greg’s body, noticed the quickness of his breath, and made a split-second decision. Rising to his feet, Holden wrapped his arms around Greg and pulled their bodies together. Without a word, he closed the distance between them and kissed Greg, smoothing his hands over Greg’s back and shoulders, lingering until he felt Greg relax.
“What do you want to do today?” Holden asked as they broke apart.
Itturnedoutthatwhat Greg wanted to do was show Holden the sights, which had seemed like a good idea up until the point where Greg directed Holden to the stable and told him they were going to go horseback riding.
Holden had never been on a horse in his life, but Greg assured him the stable had horses for all levels of riders. That was reassuring until he was introduced to Banshee. His hesitation at riding something named for an Irish death demon made Greg laugh.
“The rule of thumb in horses is the more dangerous the name sounds, the sweeter the animal. It’s the Powderpuffs, Sweethearts, and Love Muffins you need to watch out for.” Greg patted the horse’s neck and encouraged Holden to step up and say hi. “Let her sniff you just like you’d let a dog.”
Tentatively holding out his hand, Holden was ready to yank it back at the first sign of teeth, but Banshee merely huffed a gust of hot air over his fingers before swinging her head away.
“Does that mean she approves of me?” Holden asked.
Greg shrugged. “It means she doesn’t think you’re a threat.”
“That is not reassuring.”
One of the stable hands was leading a horse past the tie racks, and Banshee let out a high-pitched whinny that was almost a shriek. Holden covered his ears while Greg laughed.
“Now you know why she’s named Banshee.” He took Holden’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you fitted out in a pair of boots and a helmet.”
Half an hour later, they ambled out of the stable yard. Greg was riding his mother’s horse, Daisy, who, true to what Greg had told him about horse names, was high-spirited and practically levitated her way to the trail. “Mom doesn’t get nearly enough time to ride her, so I always take her out when I’m here.”
“Rose and Daisy?” Holden asked, trying to get comfortable in the saddle. At least he now understood why cowboys were often bowlegged.
“Yeah,” Greg laughed as Daisy skittered sideways, easily following her unpredictable movements and guiding her back onto the trail. “She’s a registered Quarter Horse, and Mom named her Rose’s Daisy Chain.” He reached down and scritched her neck. “She’s a good girl most of the time.” Daisy tossed her head as if in agreement.
Banshee was as solid and steady as Greg had predicted. Even when they got to a hill and Greg told Holden he was going to let Daisy take it at a gallop to expel some of her energy, Banshee didn’t lift her head at the scatter of stones that Daisy’s hooves kicked up when she took off or try to follow. Holden watched Greg with a fair amount of awe as he leaned forward, ass out of the saddle, upper body completely steady despite the horse churning beneath him. Daisy took the hill easily, her powerful hind end pushing her forward in leaps and bounds. At the top, Greg reined her in, turned her, and waved to Holden before starting down at a much more sedate pace. Holden clucked to Banshee and gave her a tentative tap with his heels, but she continued forward at the same sedate pace.
Greg was glowing when he reached Holden, and Daisy was definitely a lot calmer. “She likes to blow off some steam,” Greg said as they resumed riding side by side.
“When did you start riding?” Holden asked.
“My grandfather put me on a horse when I was five. Said if I was going to be taking care of this place, I needed to learn how to ride.”
They continued to talk as they rode, Greg telling him about the land, his grandfather, and growing up in Denver and then coming up here for school breaks and summer. “It was heaven,” he said. “Taking care of the animals, repairing fences, fishing, helping my grandmother in her garden. I loved being here.”
“Is this where you want to be when you stop flying?”
