13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Tim was sitting in the office at Katydid Farm the next morning, squirming a little when Mickey Warren walked in with the tally sheet from the white board in the barn, giving the count for hay and grain to go into the inventory system.

He gave Tim a smirk and sniffed around the office, then he moved closer to Tim, sniffing like crazy. "What the fuck are you doing?" Tim's face heated up, embarrassed for no reason at all.

With the most serious look Tim had ever seen, Mickey leaned over the desk and held his hand under Tim's chin, forcing him to look into the cowboy's eyes. "Aww, I'm right. You smell different cause you're not a virgin anymore."

Tim was mortified and slapped the hand away. The only question: How the fuck could Mickey tell? It had only happened the night before…

Tim pulled away and looked into Matt's eyes, certain of his decision. "Take me to bed and make love to me."

" Are you sure, Timmy? I can wait, I swear. I don't—I won't rush you." Matt whispered against his collarbone where his tongue was getting acquainted with Tim's body after he pulled off the younger man's T-shirt. All the while, Tim was losing his fucking mind.

" God, yessss!" Tim hissed his consent, doubling as commentary on how wonderful Matt's mouth felt on his skin.

Matt stood and pulled Tim up his body, bracing his hands under the younger man's ass as the bull rider carried him down the hallway and up the stairs to the bedroom. It wasn't the first time Tim had been in that room, but it was the first time the two had planned to make love. They'd fingered and sucked each other, but they had yet to take the biggest step forward, physically.

Tim was nervous, but as Matt held him in his arms before he put him on the bed, Tim knew he was in good hands… literally and figuratively… especially when the man took off Tim's jeans and briefs.

Feeling Matt's touch on his naked skin was unbelievable. The man's tongue explored every inch of Tim's chest, nipping and sucking his nipples to hard peaks while further down his body, the cowboy's fingers found their way to his entrance. A large, calloused finger circled the sensitive skin, and he gasped for a second until that large finger breached the ring of muscle.

The bull rider seemed set on loosening him up so his body could accommodate that hefty cock. Tim was a little worried about the size because he'd had it in his mouth more than once, but in his heart, he knew if he asked Matt to stop, he would in an instant.

Tim truly wanted to feel the man inside him. To test the waters, Tim shoved four fingers up his own ass while jacking off after he measured Matt's cock while sucking him. It might be uncomfortable at first, but Tim knew his body would stretch to accept the girth, and he was hungry for it.

" Please, Matty, now. I need to feel you inside me, baby." Tim was breathless as he reached for a condom. He opened it with his teeth and pushed Matt onto his back.

They'd been kissing as if the world might end, so when Tim put the condom in his mouth, he saw Matt look at him like he'd lost his mind. Tim had seen the move in a porn video, and he was trying to be sexy. He was pretty sure he wasn't making the grade, but he was definitely giving it his all.

When he bent forward and pushed the condom over Matt's cock with his mouth, unrolling it with his lips, Tim glanced up through his lashes at Matt, seeing welcome surprise.

He was smugly satisfied. It was another notch to help build his confidence, and he was also relieved. He wanted to be the man to satisfy Matthew Collins in bed, so he'd need all of the confidence he could muster.

After Matt was encased in latex, Tim lubed him up and moved up the man's body, such that his thick cock was lined up with Tim's tingling channel. He took a deep breath and held Matt's dick where he needed him, slowly beginning the process of losing his virginity. It would be a moment that stuck with Tim for the rest of his fucking life.

" Oh, fuck, that feels so good, baby. You're grippin' me so fuckin' tight." Tim slowly sank onto Matt's hard cock after easing off and inching his way down the ample member again.

There was a bit of a burn, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable in the beginning. When Matt wrapped a slick hand around Tim's protruding dick as it rested on the bull rider's tight abs, Tim was fucking lost to the sensation.

Tim had never figured he'd enjoy a little pain with his pleasure. It was like he was floating above himself with all the sensations Matt was bringing forth in his body and mind.

They got into a good rhythm of moving together as Matt jacked him, but when Tim's body was nearly pushed over the edge, he stopped Matt's hand and moved it above the man's head as he leaned forward and kissed him softly. "You okay?"

" Oh, baby, I'm so far beyond okay I can barely breathe. Can I flip us now? I love you bein' on top of me but I wanna feel your legs wrapped around my waist. I love the feel of your body on me, but I want to be closer." Matt's whispered response brought gooseflesh to Tim's skin.

After Tim was on his back with Matt seated deep inside him, the bull rider made slow work of showing Tim how good he could make him feel. Tim had only imagined it would be so life-altering, but as the sensation of Matt inside him elevated his soul out of his body, Tim knew for certain he'd be changed.

He dozed with his head resting on Matt's right bicep after a soul-shattering orgasm, and Tim knew the way he'd viewed love and commitment would never be the same. He'd heard one never forgot their firsts… first kiss… first lover… first relationship. He was sure it was true, but he prayed Matthew Collins would not only be his first, but also his last and his everyone in between. Clearly, he fell in love like a penguin… forever.

SNAP! SNAP!

As the beautiful fog cleared, Tim glanced up to see Mickey with a huge, shit-eating grin on his face. "Ah, relivin' the magic, I suspect. Well, good on you. I hope he was gentle." The cowboy's words were actually touching.

Before Tim could ask how the hell Mickey knew he'd been a virgin and that he and Matt had had sex the night before, the office door opened. Hank walked in with a petite blonde woman behind him. She looked at Mickey and shot him a sexy smile, which he returned with a wink and a smirk.

"Tim, this is Rhonda Turnberry. She's here to see you." Hank moved aside for the woman to step forward and extend her hand to Tim. Hank glanced down at the woman's ass before giving an approving nod.

Tim did everything he could to hold the laugh because he'd met Patsy Sachs, Hank's wife. If she got wind of that gesture, she'd have Hank's nuts in a vise in two seconds, flat.

"Ronni, please."

Tim rose to shake her hand, not sure at all what she was doing at the farm or what she wanted with him. She was dressed in a tan pantsuit with an ivory silk blouse under the jacket, so she definitely wasn't there about boarding or buying a horse.

"Timothy Moran. How can I help you?"

Mickey tipped his cowboy hat as he walked toward the door of the office, Hank on his trail. They closed the door and left him with the woman…alone.

"Do you mind?" She pointed to the old, rickety oak chair in front of the desk.

"I'm sorry. Please make yourself at home." Tim extended his hand for her to take a seat. Once she was settled, she placed a briefcase on her lap, opening it and pulling out a stack of papers.

"You're a hard guy to track down, Mr. Moran." The woman gave Tim a smile that was non-threatening. She didn't seem to be combative, so he wasn't overly concerned about the visit.

"I wasn't aware anyone was looking for me."

"I work for Clauson Associates in Philadelphia. Your paternal grandmother, Joanne Moran, was a client of ours. We've been managing your trust since her death. You turned twenty-three on May 3, correct?" The woman already knew the answer.

If it had anything to do with his grandmother, Tim was pretty sure it was bad news. "I did. What's this about? She didn't like my father, and she liked me even less. I can't imagine she'd leave me anything more than a chunk of coal." Just then, his phone chimed with a text from Matt.

The young woman, who he was guessing was about thirty-years-old, smiled at him and studied the papers in front of her for a moment. She looked up, staring into Tim's hazel eyes.

"Your grandmother wasn't the easiest client we've had, to be sure. Richard Clauson was her lead attorney and managed all her business ventures until she died. Along the way, they became personal friends, but he moaned about dealing with her every time she came into the office."

Tim chuckled. No doubt the man complained. The woman was a pain in the ass.

The woman continued. "Richard knew what happened with your father, and he worked very hard to keep Joanne's name out of the press during the inquest because your grandmother was a woman of means. She was extremely disappointed by the choices your father made, including his marriage to your mother, but you are her blood relative and she respected familial ties more than family relationships. These papers are a list of her assets; the investments made on behalf of the trust over the years; and an accounting of the expenses associated with the administration of the estate, including the fees our firm has collected acting as trustee."

Tim wasn't sure why the woman was sitting in front of him with a notebook while saying the words blood relative. "I'm sorry. I'm completely confused. Did you say a trust?"

"Yes, Mr. Moran. She insisted a trust be established to manage the inheritance until your thirtieth birthday. When you enrolled at Penn State after your mother's death, she revised the trust documents so the proceeds could be turned over to you on your twenty-third birthday. We lost track of you after graduation, unfortunately." Tim was more confused with every word.

The first thing that popped into his head came out of his mouth. "Look, I don't have a lot of money. I work here for my uncle and aunt, part-time. I work at another ranch in the area part-time as well. If there are fees associated with this mess, just keep whatever there is left by the old woman. I don't have the time nor the inclination…"

The young woman turned the folder to face him and pointed to a line at the bottom of the page, stopping Tim's ramblings dead in their tracks. He flipped through the pages, trying to understand what the hell he was seeing.

There were a lot of properties listed around Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, including the house where he and his mother, Sherry, had lived when they resided in New Jersey before his father hunted them down. "What are these? Houses?" His confusion was evident in his voice.

The young attorney cleared her throat. "Your grandparents were pioneers in the house-flipping business in Pennsylvania. They bought up deteriorating properties around Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, including ten multifamily dwellings, and they remodeled them, earning more in rental fees than the houses had been worth prior to the purchase.

"The only good thing your grandmother did after your grandfather died was to freeze the rents in those apartment buildings. She made certain that as the tenants aged, they were still able to afford their residences so as not to have them displaced."

"Imagine that. I didn't think she did anything nice for anyone." Tim had a hard time believing what he was hearing.

"She held all the properties and banked the rents since they were free and clear of mortgages. When your parents split up, she bought the house your mother rented and lowered the rent to a sustainable level in order for the two of you to have a roof over your heads."

Tim remembered his mother questioning the management company about the notice that the rent had been cut in half. She'd even dragged him to a church in the neighborhood one night so they could thank God for the blessing. He wondered what Sherry would have said if she'd known it was thanks to Joanne.

"As far as we've been able to ascertain, your mother never knew your grandmother owned the property. After the murder and your relocation, Joanne had the house boarded up, but she held the property. She wanted you to do with the house as you saw fit, but she recommended tearing it down and building some sort of a community garden or a park in dedication to your mother." The idea brought tears to Tim's eyes.

None of it made sense to Tim because none of it sounded like the grandmother he vaguely remembered. Somewhere in the paperwork, there had to be a clerical error. The lawyer was obviously looking for someone else, though the facts she'd recited, chapter and verse, fit the history he remembered of his family.

"Look, Ms. Turnberry, I'm not sure if someone put you up to this to pull a prank on me, or if you've confused me with someone else, but Joanne Moran disowned me when she found out I'm gay. I'm sure if you dig a little deeper into the records, there's paperwork filed somewhere stating she revoked this trust and changed her will, or whatever you call it. It's probably on file with another attorney somewhere because she wanted nothing to do with me, which is why I didn't go to the funeral." Tim tried very hard not to become upset. Joanne Moran wasn't worth it.

The attorney smiled again. "Look, Mr. Moran, I dealt with Joanne one time as a second-year associate. She was horribly nasty, but she was clear in her wishes. You are the sole heir to her estate. The only expenses charged against it were her funeral, our fees, and the continued maintenance and insurance of the properties in her portfolio.

"Her personal home in Philadelphia was left to the Episcopal church where she was a member. They're using it as a space for an after-school and youth program for neighborhood children. She established a trust to fund the program from the sale of her personal effects. The church named it "Moran House" in honor of Joanne.

"Anyway, the bottom line is you own approximately twelve, single-family, and ten, multi-family properties in Philly, Pittsburgh, and Trenton. The trust is currently valued at $5.5 million dollars. The annual tax burden is…" She leaned over the desk and pointed to lines on the documents. Unfortunately, Tim didn't hear a word of her analysis. It was all too much to take in.

Later that afternoon, Tim was in the office of Matt Collin's home at the Circle C, working on updating the ranch's website with new information regarding recent sales of stock. The links on the various websites he'd constructed to correspond with the ranch site would update at midnight, so he was rushing to finish the project.

In all honesty, Tim was trying to block out the crap from earlier in the day which was weighing heavily on his mind. That was when he'd decided to change the scenery and had driven out to the ranch.

He'd called Jeri and told her he'd pick up Ryan at school, but she insisted the boy would be happier riding the bus. Matt was in Richmond meeting with his lawyer about the Mona situation, so Tim was at the ranch, alone, waiting for Ryan.

The shit Ronni Turnberry had told him kept spinning around his brain, making it difficult to really do anything of substance. Updating the website was the task he'd chosen because it was simple, and it would take his mind off the fact he'd suddenly become a multimillionaire.

Hell's bells, Tim didn't even know how to budget the small amount of money he had left from his mom's life insurance policy that had paid for the expenses his scholarship didn't cover. He surely had no handle on what to do with millions.

Ronni and he had parted with him asking her to continue to manage the trust exactly as it had been handled since Joanne's death to give Tim time and space to figure out what the hell to do about all of it.

After she'd left that afternoon, he'd vacated the barn office without talking to his aunt or uncle. He needed to wrap his head around everything because he had decisions to make.