Chapter 12

Jackson

Ash has a smile on his face as we exit the tree line at the start of the trail. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks bright, and I can hardly look away from him.

Him or those smiling lips.

"That was fun," he says, breaking my trance as our horses walk side by side toward the stables.

I grunt, and he snorts.

"You had fun, too," he says.

I don't deny it.

"Pretty sure I'll be sore tomorrow, but I don't even care," he goes on. "If your ass isn't feeling it after a good ride, you're not doing it right."

The latter was clearly a joke—one that has my pulse skyrocketing—but his comment about being sore makes me pause. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

He nearly rolls his eyes. "No, it wasn't. I'll be fine."

He'll be fine. Not that he is fine.

I try to hold my tongue but can't. "What d'you do? For your back, I mean. You said you have stretches?"

He holds my eye for a moment before nodding. "From my physical therapists mostly. Just a few things to keep my back muscles loose and my spine in alignment and all that."

"And you, uh, do those every day?"

"Unless I forget," he says slowly. "Why?"

I shrug. "Just curious."

"Mhm."

"And, uh… How often do you needa do the heat pack thing?"

"Jack," he says, tone warning.

"What?"

Ash's expression is stern. "Don't, okay? Don't start thinking of me as weak. I know what I can handle, and a little pain isn't going to stop me from living my life. I don't need you treating me like glass. I've had enough people in my life do that."

I pull Starlight to a stop, and a moment later, Ash stops, too.

"I don't," I say seriously. "I don't think of you as weak, Ash. Quite the opposite. I just wanna know how you cope, all right? I wanna know what you do, so if there's a way to help, I can do it."

He looks at me for the longest time, his eyes raking over my face. Finally, he nods once and kicks Shorty back into motion. I catch up quickly.

"It varies," he says. "Couple times a week on the heat is typical. I have a low-dose muscle relaxer I take at night if it's really bad. It helps reset things. Maybe once a month for that. I used to get massages, too, but I don't know if you have anyone close by that does that?"

I shake my head. Not that I'm aware of.

He shrugs. "So that's it. It's…maintenance, you know? Just part of my everyday routine. Like eating or sleeping or jerking—"

His words come to a swift halt, and my body flashes hot. Jerking off . He was going to say jerking off.

Fucking hell .

"There's literally no way to recover that," Ash says around a laugh. "So I'm not even going to try. Here we are."

Ash is the first off his horse, dismounting with barely a hitch. He's a fast learner; I'll give him that. I stare after him as he leads Shorty inside the barn, telling the horse what a good job he did today, yes, he did .

I can't quite get my breathing to even out.

By the time I catch up, Ash is working through how to take off Shorty's saddle. I help him out, showing him where to put the saddle pads for cleaning and how to store the tack. After that, we spray and brush down the horses, Ash laughing all the while.

I still can't breathe.

Ash ends up half-soaked by the time we're done, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's all smiles as we return the horses to their stalls, clean and mostly dried. I show him where the various pellets and grains are and how to read the horses' feed charts on the outsides of their doors. He scoops the right amounts while I refill their hay.

By the time we're done, it's nearly seven in the evening.

"I think I'm due for a shower," Ash says, picking at his shirt, which is clinging wetly to his skin. His jacket is waiting on a straw bale nearby.

I nod, not trusting my voice enough to speak. My heart keeps pounding, and I can't stop looking at Ash's mouth. At his smile.

He wings up an eyebrow, catching my staring. "Unless… Do you want to join me?" he asks, brazen as ever.

Yes .

"I don't…know if that'd be a good idea," I say, not sure why I'm still holding back.

Why am I holding back?

Ash's expression softens. "Okay, Jack. Walk with me?"

I nod, and Ash grabs his jacket. The two of us take off.

Most of the weekend employees are gone at this time of day. The dairy cows are outside again, having already been milked for the evening. Their diet is different from that of the beef lot, but they still spend plenty of their time grazing. In the other direction, Remi is closing up the petting farm, Snickerdoodle trailing after him.

"It's so peaceful here," Ash says.

I hum.

"Not quiet, exactly," he adds. "Just…nice."

"Yeah."

Ash huffs a laugh. "Like someone else I know."

It takes me a second to connect the dots. "I'm not nice."

He straight up barks a laugh. "Sure, Jack."

"Christ," I grumble, ignoring his audible amusement.

By the time we reach the ranch house, my palms are sweating and my nerves are jumbled. I feel like a teenager after a first date, not knowing what to say or do. My eyes keep falling to Ash's lips, no matter how hard I try to stop it.

"I had a good time today," Ash says. "Thanks for taking me out."

I nod a bit jerkily.

"And tell your mom thanks, too," he adds, mouth twisting into a smile. "You know, for that food you just couldn't refuse. Because it's so incredibly hard to say ‘no thank you.'"

I rub the back of my neck, and Ash huffs a laugh.

"Night, Jack," he says softly.

Ash heads up the porch stairs, and I hold my hand up in a goodbye. After sending me one last smile, he disappears inside.

The entire time I walk to my house, my thoughts war. As I shower, I can't stop thinking about Ash's mouth and his laugh and the feel of him pressed against me as we kissed. Once I'm dry and dressed, I pace, thinking about the ginger tea he made my brother and the way he looked up at the mountains as if awed.

I think of his golden hair and stormy eyes and that goddamn dimple in his chin.

I think of the way he told me, "I'm right here."

I think of every possible outcome, the good and the bad, and how, in the end, there's only one way to find out for certain what we could be. If, like Ash said, we could be something good. Something real .

My pulse is racing as I walk the quarter mile back to the ranch house. The sun is set now, having sunk down beyond the mountains. I don't falter as I head through the front door, kicking my boots off inside. I don't stop as I walk down the hall and take the stairs up to the second floor. I don't think or hesitate. I knock on Ash's door, and I wait.

He opens it after only a few seconds, his eyes widening in surprise. His hair is wet, and there's a towel draped over the edge of the bed. "Jackson?"

I step in, taking Ash's face in my hands. There's a question stuck in the back of my throat that I can't get out, but Ash must read it on my face because he nods in my grip.

"Yeah," he breathes, permission freely given.

I move forward, and the pair of us turn in tandem, rounding the door as my mouth comes down on his. Our momentum pushes Ash into the wood, the door thudding shut in the process. He moans against me, a noise I hastily swallow down before tugging him in the opposite direction, all too aware of those in this house who could hear us. Ash's hands grapple with my shirt as we move, his fingers finding skin, our lips never parting.

When I bump against the dresser at the far wall, I spin him into the furniture. He grunts, legs spreading wider to make room for me to crowd in close. I can't stop kissing him. Can't stop touching. His abdominals tense as my hand drags down the front of his shirt, a groan leaving his mouth, his hunger just as evident as my own.

Ash's breaths are loud when I drop my lips to his neck, tasting clean man on my tongue. His groan this time is louder— too loud—so I cover his mouth with my palm. He makes an affronted sound, tugging my hand away, even as he arches into my touch.

"You can't just—"

"Shh," I tell him.

"Jack—"

I cover his mouth again, holding his gaze as I lower to my knees. He gets the hint, his eyes rolling up before snapping open again. Slowly, I let go of his mouth to open his jeans.

"Fuck," he mutters, helping me along, shoving his pants down as soon as I have them unzipped. He grips the edge of the dresser, breathing ragged.

I don't make him wait, too impatient myself, wanting this too damn much to drag it out even a second longer. I tug down his briefs, run my nose up the length of his cock, and then take him into my mouth.

Ash nearly shouts, and I shift my gaze up just in time to catch him biting the side of his hand to muffle it. His eyes are half-lidded and electric. They struggle to stay open as I slip my lips down the length of him, tasting clean man again, but also something more. Something uniquely him.

"Jack," he groans around his hand.

I suck, dragging my lips upwards, swirling my tongue around his crown as I grip the base of his dick. His hips jerk, cock throbbing in a blatant display of arousal. It's heady, knowing I'm affecting him so. Knowing he was hard for me the moment I sank to my knees.

I want to make him come for me, too.

I pump his shaft as I mouth the sensitive head of his cock, so smooth against my lips and tongue. His breathing hitches when I lick his slit, and I'm rewarded with a salty hit of precum. I can tell Ash is trying to keep his noises in check, but he's not very successful. Deep groans reverberate out from his chest, accompanying words spilling from around his makeshift gag. There's Jack and fuck, your mouth is sweet and if you stop, I'll die .

I have no plans of stopping. I take more of Ash's cock into my mouth, replacing my hand with my lips as I work him over. His skin is hot, his cock impossibly hard and swelling further. Ash's hand slaps against the dresser as he gets close, his other gripping my hair tight.

"Fuck, Jack. Fuck, fuck ."

I clamp my hand back over his mouth, and he doesn't try to stop me. His hips hitch off the dresser, his cock so deep in my throat I'm taking nearly all of him. I can feel the moment Ash starts to come. Can feel it against my tongue, against my lips, against my palm as his breathing stutters. I suck hard, pulling my lips toward his tip, and there .

Ash floods my mouth as his teeth clamp onto the meat of my palm. I stroke him through it, something in the deepest parts of me stuttering and restarting like his breath. His hand leaves my hair as his orgasm wanes, instead covering the hand I have pressed against his mouth. His teeth release their grip, his lips pursing in what feels like an apologetic kiss.

"Fuck," he murmurs again, pulling my hand down to his chest as I softly clean his cock with my tongue. He grunts, a satisfied sound I can feel against my bruised palm. "Jack."

I meet his eye, unprepared for the softness I find there. He gives me a tug, trying to pull me to my feet. I let him.

My heart pounds as Ash drags me close, uncaring about his half-clothed state. His hand grips my ass over my jeans, slotting us together, his other in my hair again, thumb beside my ear. I feel… exposed .

"What is it you want, Jack?" Ash asks, his lips feathering along my cheek. They drift over my lips before trailing along my jaw.

I don't think he's asking about right this instant, but I can't answer that. I hardly know myself.

"I don't need anything in return," I croak out. "I didn't expect—"

Ash clucks his tongue, leaning back enough to see me. "Jackson Darling, must you be so stubborn? I didn't ask what you need. I asked what you want ."

I pull in a breath, and Ash's hand runs down my jaw, his thumb brushing my bottom lip.

"We need air," he says, fingers skimming down my neck, over my pulse. "We need food. Water. Sleep. But I want to know what you want . What it is you ache for. What you'd ask for, right this very minute, if you could choose. What, in the most selfish parts of you, are you greedy for? What is it you want ?"

"You," I answer without a thought.

Ash's grip stills on the side of my neck before tightening. "Fuck. I knew you'd be trouble."

I don't have time to decipher that before Ash's hand is sliding down between us, landing on my crotch like a brand. His lips touch my ear, so soft.

"You have me, darlin'."

My heart gives a great big thump as Ash shoves me gently backwards. He drops to his haunches in front of me, tugging my jeans down with zero finesse. I flail for a single second before grabbing the lip of the dresser, bracing myself over Ash's form as he pulls me swiftly from within my boxer briefs.

He shakes his head slightly. "Of course you're perfect," he mutters. And then he licks the head of my cock.

My breath punches from me, but I can't look away, can't tear my eyes off the sight of Ash taking my cock into his mouth. He sinks nearly all the way down before reversing course, his hand encircling me as he pops free.

"We're going to work on you talking to me," he says before licking me in an almost kittenish manner. His hand continues to work my base, the familiar tug and squeeze feeling so much better than it has any right to. It's been too long. So long since I've had this. And this is Ash crouching at my feet. His hand on my dick. His tongue coming out to swipe at my crown.

Fuck .

"You're going to learn you can trust me," he says, eyes flitting up to meet mine. "You can trust me, Jack."

"Ash," I groan.

"I know," he says, a small smile on his face. "I've got you."

He ducks his head again, and I miss the sight of that smile. But then his mouth is back on my cock, and his hand is sinking inside my underwear to grasp my balls. Ash cups them, rolls them, his fingers sliding back against my taint. I about shoot to my tiptoes as those fingers rub and rub and rub , the suction of his mouth never ceasing.

Just like that, I lose it.

I call out Ash's name as my muscles tense, my fingers blanching against the top of the dresser. He doesn't pull off, even as my release coats his tongue. For the briefest of moments, I feel out of my body. I'm washed in sensation, in the euphoric waves rolling beneath my skin. In the pull of my balls emptying in blissful relief. It's all-encompassing, threatening to pull me under and sweep me away.

But then, there's the pressure of Ash's hand on my hip. His mouth soothing my cock. The hum he lets out that seems to travel straight up into my chest. He's there, grounding me as I catch my breath, as I try to wrap my head around the fact that I had sex for the first time since Otto, and it felt… good . It felt good and right, and I don't think I realized until right this instant how terrified I was that that wouldn't be the case. That maybe he'd truly broken me. That— maybe —I wouldn't ever be able to have this again.

But he didn't take that from me, did he?

A soft kiss against my hip has me glancing down. Ash's hair is a mess, half-covering his eyes as he looks up at me. His cheeks are red, and his lips look slick.

"Okay, Jack?" he asks quietly.

I turn and sink down beside him, my ass landing on the floor. Ash takes a seat, too, kicking his legs out in front of him. Our softened cocks are still hanging out, and I have no doubt my face looks as utterly wrecked as his. But none of it matters.

"I'm all right," I tell him honestly. I'm not sure how he seems to know something is going on in my head. Maybe I'm just not that great at hiding it. Or maybe he's simply looking.

Ash rests his head against the dresser, gaze softly assessing as it travels over me. "You're not going to walk out that door, right?"

I shake my head slowly. "No. Not yet."

He nods, seemingly satisfied with that. Facing forward again, he closes his eyes, an almost serene smile on his face. "Fuck," he mutters.

"Fuck," I agree, still trying to catch my breath.

Ash lets out a small chuckle. And then another. And then he's laughing outright, his chest shaking and a grin on his face.

Without quite knowing why I'm doing it, I laugh along with him.