Lonely At The Top - 1. Chapter 1

Nathan Cole opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t. The world was too bright, his ears were ringing, his brain felt like someone had squeezed it, and his mouth tasted like… someone else. Nathan rolled over to find out what he’d done, and found the bed beside him empty. It was also, unsurprisingly, not his bed. Nathan’s bed did not have clean white sheets offset with teal and steel grey throw pillows, and there certainly wasn’t the lingering aroma of very expensive coffee wafting through the air. Slightly dreading what he would see, Nathan looked past the bed to where a figure was carrying a steaming mug towards him.

“Well hey, Cowboy; an’ here I was always brought up to think you guys got up at the crack of dawn.” The distinctly manly voice was accompanied by a smile. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” Nathan sat up, an action that made his head spin as though someone had picked up the room and shaken it; then took the mug. “Thank you…?”

“Taylor,” he chuckled, “I don’t think we ever got as far as names last night, did we Cowboy?”

“Nathan. Er… Nate.” He sipped the coffee; it even tasted like it cost a lot. “So…er…” he looked around the apartment with a frown. It was modern, sleek, clean, and only their discarded clothes showed how exuberant they had been in their nightly activities. Apart from the deep satisfaction that came only from having excellent sex, Nathan couldn’t remember much of what they’d done. “Last night…?”

“Was great fun,” Taylor smirked, “I can hardly believe I pulled a cowboy. Lucky me.” Taylor dropped his towel and reached into a drawer for a pair of boxer shorts. Nathan scanned the body of the other man: about his own age, well-muscled like he spent time at the gym, short hair and well groomed stubble, but his chest and crotch were clean shaven. As he got dressed Nathan wondered why he had gone after a guy who wore designer underwear and mustard yellow chinos.

“Look, Taylor,” Nate dragged his fingers through his permanently un-styled hair, “you seem like a nice guy an’ all but-”

“Jeez Nate,” Taylor’s voice broke into half a laugh, and Nathan bristled with prickly annoyance, “you’re hot and everything, but I’m not exactly obsessing over you already.” Taylor pulled on a shirt and checked his collar as he finished up his own coffee. “Don’t worry bud; we can just blame it on the whiskey.”

“Yeah?” Nathan was surprised. Too many one night stands woke up in the day time and decided that Nathan was the type of guy they wanted to take them on dates. Nathan’s problem was that his judgement after three large glasses of whiskey wasn’t nearly as sound as he would have liked. Apart from Taylor’s swanky apartment and odd clothing choices, he wasn’t far off the type of guy Nathan would have gone after sober, so he considered himself pretty lucky. “Doesn’t your boss think yellow pants are a bit weird to wear to the office?”

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him and sighed.

“I work as chief sound engineer for an independent recording studio.” Taylor found a business card in his pocket and flicked it at Nathan. “I can wear whatever I like to work. Speaking of which, I gotta go. Let yourself out, and don’t steal anythin’.” He crossed the room to the bed, and surprised Nathan with a swift and powerful kiss. “Mmm…” he licked his lips, “tasty cowboy. It’s nice to meet you Nate.”

Nathan stared at the doorway long after Taylor had departed, and wondered what he’d done to deserve such good luck. Finding his hat took a little longer than he’d hoped, and Nathan was left imagining the various sexual scenarios where his clothes had ended up everywhere from the foot of the bed to behind the flat screen television. He scrawled his number on the whiteboard attached to Taylor’s fridge as he polished off half the milk left in the gallon-jug, almost as an afterthought, and left to go and hunt down his truck.

*

“How is the new colt coming along?”

Nathan looked up from his plate at his father and nodded quickly.

“Really well, he’ll be a very well-mannered little creature. If he grows nicely he’ll fetch a good price once he’s been backed.”

“He should do, he’s from damn good stock.” Nathan’s father chewed a hunk of thick crusted bread thoughtfully, “you chose well there. I’m glad we paired Cayman up with Little River.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Nathan waited until his father nodded again, and then allowed himself to be distracted once more by his food. It would never do, even as fast as all of them ate around the table in the Cole household, to be caught chewing with his mouth open or answering one of his father’s questions before he swallowed: and his father did not like to wait more than a millisecond for a reply. Anything less than blink fast responses were either a sign of weakness and indecision, or the outright admittance of at best, incompetence, and at worse, a lie.

Despite waking up late and having the drive back from Austin, Nathan had still put in a full day of hard labour with the horses, and the first row of stalls in the main barn sparkled. Even though Nathan was the best young horse trainer on the property after his father, in the Cole family no one was above the menial and important task of mucking out. To leave a stable dirty was practically a sin on the Cole Ranch. Nathan had given the new colt a long lesson in manners and good groundwork behaviour with head collar and lead rope, then set up the big sand pen with a variety of obstacles and proceeded to lead and ride half a dozen one and two year olds over and around the course. Cayman was waiting for him in the stable, and Nathan felt guilty about leaving the big horse alone with only his hay for company. It had been years since Nathan had decent company on a ride: the Cole family didn’t eat with their ranch hands, and the last time Nathan had stopped by the mess hall, the laughter had followed him out. No one wanted to hang out with their boss after hours, and Nathan had pretended not to hear what was said after he’d left.

“Did you see the sign at the feed store? Firefly Creek Ranch is selling their alfalfa there.”

“Oh, really?” Nathan replied glumly. Since his ex-boyfriend had started bringing in the first harvest that spring, his stock had sold well, especially to the pleasure horse crowd. They found Clem’s use of a pair of stocky draught horses to work his land rather than a tractor romantic. Nathan hated that he felt slightly pleased for him.

“That faggot of his was there, too.” Nathan’s father sneered, “I’m glad you got shot of him.”

“Yeah, me too.” Nathan nodded.

“My boy is still a real man,” Nathan’s father clapped him hard on the shoulder. “No one fucks with a Cole.”

“Yes sir.”

“You gonna have a few horses ready for rodeo season? I think it’ll be time to get some big money coming in – you need to take a hand in this business.”

“I’ll be ready, sir.”

“You’d better be.”

Nathan loved horses, but most of all, he loved his horse. Cayman snorted as Nathan let himself into the stall, and he rubbed the big stallion’s dark face with his hands before he began to tack him up. The Coles had always been horse people, and the ranch had gone through three generations of Cole men and Nathan knew that despite his sexual proclivities, he would be the fourth, because none of his sisters were really interested in understanding the stock or the training for the young horses. Not that his father would have ever handed over his legacy to a girl – not even his own. And though Nathan loved training up the young horses, backing the two year olds for the first time, teaching a horse its paces, and coaching a young horse through its first few years until it found an owner who wanted to pay top dollar for it, he knew he would trade everything in a heartbeat just to ride Cayman all day long. Nathan Cole loved his horse, and he knew the appaloosa loved him back.

Since they were alone, Nathan lead Cayman out of the stall without touching him, and with his stirrups hanging by his sides, the horse followed his human out into the calm evening air. It was still plenty light, the sky blue on one side and painted with shades of gold and red on the other, and Nathan waited until Cayman had drawn ahead of him before placing his hand on the saddle horn. Cayman turned and snickered, wondering why his human wasn’t coming too, and Nathan lifted himself into the saddle without ever using his hands to haul himself up. A moment later, they were trotting off across the pasture, and at no point had Nathan lifted the reins or given his horse a single command.

They ended up by the little river that ran through the property without Nathan at any point really concentrating on where he directed his horse. When Cayman stopped and snorted, Nathan blinked, and looked out at the water running through his green pastures. It had been the last place he and Clem had a conversation before the… incident over which they had broken up. Nathan hated to think that even though it was three years ago, he could pinpoint that exact moment as the one where he had lost his boyfriend. At the time it hadn’t felt like a loss, but there had been no one steady since; just a string of one night stands and a handful of overeager would-be partners Nathan wasn’t interested in. He turned Cayman away from the river with one heel and rode up the short slope to the ridge that ran along between two of the bigger pastures. There were horses out here, two year olds with their parents, yet to be taken in hand and shown the way of humans, and in their herd mentality they were always slightly feral. Cayman snorted, his head held high, and told them all who was boss. Nathan knew he didn’t miss Clem Linton, not exactly, but he missed the company the other man had brought to him. Now there was no one to whoop and holler as Nathan touched his heels to Cayman’s flanks and join them as the two of them went flying along the ridgeline, chased by the herd in a mad swirling dash. Nathan’s father would have called him irresponsible, so would anyone else, but at least with the horses galloping alongside them, Nathan didn’t feel quite so alone.

*

Nathan drained the last of his beer and watched the light of the television screen through the dark glass of the bottle, the apparently random shapes moving quickly across the screen. There was a PBR invitational on, and Nathan was fantasising in a vague manner about whether or not any of those strong and handsome bull riders would ever turn out to be gay. He’d read once that some number approaching one in every ten people weren’t straight, but as far as Nathan knew, he, Clem, and now the irritating Ashlee, were the only not-straight people in town. Nathan was sure there had to be others, but in three years and the whole of Lockhart, he hadn’t found anyone.

He was contemplating a second beer when his phone vibrated at him. Nathan nearly didn’t answer it, assuming his father would have an errand for him to run, but he swapped the bottle for the cell and thumbed the screen alight

Unknown number: Still up, cowboy?

Nathan blinked. His brain presented him with the image of his own hand holding a whiteboard marker, and scrawling his number onto Taylor’s fridge. He hadn’t expected the other man to call him.

Nathan: No rest for the wicked.

There wasn’t even a moment for Nathan to look back to the television before Taylor replied again.

Taylor: Feeling lonely?

Two minutes later Nathan was out of the door. Screw drinking alone in his trailer and half not-watching the television, the offer of bedroom company was far too tempting to resist, even if Taylor had more hair products in his bathroom than a drugstore. He seemed like a decent sort of guy, and Nathan wondered what it would be like to have sex with him and actually remember it.

Nathan: I’ve already left.

Taylor sent him the address of his house, and Nathan parked up the truck and was buzzed into the posh apartment building. He was almost surprised there wasn’t a doorman. As he reached Taylor’s door, he was met with a warm smile and a tumbler one third full of bourbon.

“An’ here I figured ya thought I was jus’ some country hick,” Nathan took the glass and grinned as he drank.

“So you’re only a cowboy playin’ dress up?” Taylor asked with a raised eyebrow. Nathan responded by grabbing his shirt front and tugging him forwards for a kiss which clacked their teeth together. He growled. “So, not pretending…” Taylor panted as the kiss broke. “C’mon in, cowboy.”

Taylor’s place was much as he remembered from the previous week: clean, modern, sleek, expensive. Nathan could see that the strong, bold lines of the furniture were pretty masculine, but the pops of bright colour, apple skin green in the open kitchen, ocean blue in the living room, and the teal in the bedroom he’d already seen, made the whole place seem somehow… girly. Nathan decided not to focus on the little things that irritated him, and instead drained his bourbon in one long gulp and hooked a calloused thumb into the low slung waistband of Taylor’s bright red chinos.

“I think yer wearin’ too many clothes.”

“Don’t you like my clothes?”

Nathan didn’t answer him. He had long ago learnt the best way to avoid answering questions, get out of conversation he didn’t like, and dodge discussions about his ‘feelings’ was to stop the other person from being able to form words. The most obvious of these was to stick his tongue down Taylor’s throat, and he was pleased when the other man opened up for him and groaned happily. Nathan held the back of his head tight with one hand, mussing up his carefully styled hair as he opened Taylor’s shirt, pulling it from his chinos, and ran his fingers over his partner’s well rippled chest. Taylor either spent a lot of time doing lots of heavy lifting, or he was a big fan of his gym membership: either way, Nathan grinned against his lips, and then used both hands to rip open the fly of his pants. Taylor gasped in surprise, looking down at his exposed self, but Nathan didn’t give him time to process what was going on, and placed an encouraging hand on the top of his head. To his delight, Taylor dropped willingly to his knees, and Nathan steadied himself with one hand on the back of the couch as his new friend opened his fly and greeted his erection with a grin.

The absolute best thing about being gay, as far as Nathan was concerned, was getting head. Just once in his teenage years had he been given a desperate and reluctant blow job by a girl who had wanted him to suddenly become interested in her in the manner in which good country boys were supposed to be, and Nathan often thought if it hadn’t been for the first guy he’d slept with, he might have been put off the experience for life. The girl had been hurried, inexperienced, and it was obvious she hadn’t really liked the idea of putting his dick in her mouth. Guys on the other hand… Nathan growled between his teeth as Taylor’s wet lips engulfed his cock, sliding down the shaft with a tight sucking motion that drew Nathan’s scrotum up with sudden tingling pleasure; most guys knew what they were doing, knew what they liked on themselves, and they weren’t shy about diving in. Nathan had never known anyone try and spit afterwards, but then he was aware they didn’t get a lot of choice. He wrapped one hand around the back of Taylor’s head and began to control the speed and depth of the motions, his breath coming in ever shorter pants as he began a sharp thrusting motion with his hips.

Nathan loved getting head from a guy who knew what he was doing, and Taylor knew, but Nathan was left suddenly cold and full of rising frustration as the tight lipped wet heat vanished from around his erection and Taylor sat back with a grin just as Nathan had been about to take the final stepping from pleasure into ecstasy. He snarled wordlessly.

“Nice as this is, it’s not exactly what I had in mind,” Taylor smirked and licked his lips as he stood, “c’mere.” He placed two fingers under Nathan’s jaw, angling to kiss the cowboy as his eyes fluttered closed, and Nathan grasped his chance, span his partner around and ground his crotch into Taylor’s firm ass. “Oh!” Taylor gasped, “bedroom?”

“Yer jus’ fine here,” Nathan growled as he began to hump against the other man dryly. He licked a finger and worked his way between them, but as soon as he touched Taylor’s tight entrance the man yelped and pulled away from him.

“Condoms,” he glared at Nathan, “and lube. Jeez, cowboy… in a hurry much?”

Nathan grabbed a handful of Taylor’s smooth sculpted ass, part of his brain wondering when they’d both gotten a bit more naked, and pulled the man against his chest for a kiss. Even he recognised that he needed to keep his partner happy; after all, they were in his house. Taylor kissed him back, a hot, hungry note to his gestures that Nathan loved, and he allowed himself to be lead towards the bedroom. When Taylor broke the kiss and slid his fingers down Nathan’s arm to take his hand, the big man flinched away quickly, and instead placed his palm in the small of Taylor’s back, kneading gently at his spine in order to make the other man groan softly.

The bed was freshly made, and the sheets were different, not that Nathan really cared if he slept in orange and magenta, because Taylor reached across the mattress to grab what they needed from the night stand and Nathan simply pushed him down and knelt behind him. He kissed the back of Taylor’s neck, working his way along the furrow of his spine between the well-muscled shoulders as he took the lube blindly from his partner, slicked up two fingers and pushed them into his welcoming body without hesitation. Taylor gasped and groaned his whole body suddenly tense and stiff as a board as the mix of pain and pleasure flooded through his system. Nathan grinned and bit the back of his neck as he turned and thrust, seeking out the bundle of nerve ending that would make his partner scream with desire. Experience told him once he found it, the man would be putty in his hands, and Nathan would be able to do whatever he wanted.

Taylor’s back arched as Nathan’s thick fingers found his prostate, and he whimpered as the big cowboy stroked and pressed him hard in little circles designed to drive him insane. Nathan figured he deserved the torture, especially after he’d been denied his own orgasm, and he continued to pleasure his lover as he took the discarded condom from the bed, opened the foil wrapper with his teeth and rolled the thin latex over the head of his throbbing erection. After a second swipe of lube for good measure, Nathan slid his fingers from Taylor’s tight ass, and just as the man began a whimper of longing, plunged in to the hilt in one swift thrust. Taylor screamed his name, and Nathan growled with delight at the heat and power he felt rushing through his body. Nathan grabbed his hips and controlled the rhythm as he slammed repeatedly into his partner, and their groans became matched as Taylor thrust back against him, asking Nathan without words to fuck him harder: Nathan was only too happy to oblige.

They both came within moments of each other, and Nathan didn’t really care that he made a noise like a dying stag as he filled the condom inside his bed-mate because Taylor gripped the sheets hard enough to wrench them from the mattress and became an angry coyote when he growled. Several long heartbeats later Taylor laughed breathlessly and spoke between pants.

“Well, that made more laundry…”

Nathan didn’t answer him, but simply knelt back and exhaled slowly as he withdrew from the restricting heat of Taylor’s body. He grunted softly, then stood, wondering if his knees had felt so much like jello the last time he’d finished having excellent sex, and walked un-steadily to the bathroom to discard the used condom. Taylor leant around the door as he was washing his crotch, and the toned young man grinned in a lazy and appreciative manner.

“Mmmm…. Shower, or a beer?”

“Beer,” Nathan replied quickly. Then he paused, “Jus’ one; don’t wanna get sleepy drivin’ back.”

“You don’t have to up an’ leave,” Taylor’s voice drifted as he wandered away, “not if you don’t want to.”

Nathan dried himself down and walked naked through the house. Taylor was leaning against the breakfast bar holding a beer out to him with a confident smile. Nathan frowned as he took it, and glanced the other man up and down. Fully naked he was incredibly hot, beautifully muscled and tanned, but totally clean shaven from the manicured stubble downwards. Nathan might’ve lived alone in his trailer, but he was not generally in the habit of hanging out naked, with or without company, and as he sipped his beer, Nathan realised that Taylor’s self-assured poise scared him slightly.

“You don’t have to sneak out.”

“Taylor…” Nathan made his voice deliberately stern, but he was interrupted by Taylor’s hand on his sternum.

“But I ain’t gonna be waitin’ on you to call or anythin’, cowboy: don’t worry.”

“Oh…”

Taylor ran one digit dripping chilly condensation from his bottle down Nathan’s chest, and the big cowboy was suddenly a lot less interested in drinking than he had been before.

“After all, if you stay we can do it all again, if you want to.”

Nathan swallowed his beer and grinned; he had the feeling he wouldn’t be getting lonely all night.