Don't Look Back - 13. Chapter 13 (3.3)

Lee broke into a broad grin at the sight of the newcomers. The man who’d greeted him was tall, dark, and angular, about Lee’s age. His bronze skin wore the weathered look of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors, while his bright blue eyes were bursting with good humor.

“Hey Slim.” Lee gained his feet as they approached the table, holding out his hand. The man named Slim took it, before pulling Lee into a quick hug. He did the same with Marshall. “It has been a little while, hasn’t it? Hey there Rye, Denver.”

Rye was a little older than Lee, with a one-time athletic build that was turning to flab. He compensated by dressing in flattering clothes that hid his growing paunch. Denver was about a year or so older than Marshall. His wavy blond hair was heavily gelled, and he was as well turned out sartorially as Rye, but in bolder colors.

The four top next to them had just become free. They joined the two tables together and rearranged their chairs. Lee and Marshall sat on one side, Denver and Rye across from them, Slim at one end.

Marshall and Lee had been coming together to Partners for less than a year. Technically, Marshall was underage, but a small glitch in the law allowed him to drink in the presence of a parent. Being with Lee, though, no one seemed to question his right to be there. Also, having Roy with them on occasion, as a lawman, helped.

They’d met Slim, Rye, and Denver on one of their visits, and had become good friends. The three men all lived and worked in or near Tucker Falls—Slim on a working ranch just outside the city limits, Rye as a salesman for a local liquor distributor, and Denver in a retail computer store.

“I noticed Roy up at the bar, smooth-talking some pretty little thing.” Slim grinned. “I thought he was seeing someone?”

Lee shrugged. “You know how that goes. One day they’re all sweet and lovey-dovey, the next they think you’re public enemy number one. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

A chorus of amens resounded through the group. Not that Marshall had any experience with women. Not dating them, anyway. But he had a good idea what Lee meant.

At that moment, Roy himself turned up. He slid into the empty chair opposite Slim, setting his beer on the table in front of him.

“Didn’t work out?” Slim asked.

Roy shrugged. “I kinda got a clue it wouldn’t when she offered to introduce me to her mother.”

“Ouch,” Rye commiserated.

“Don’t worry,” Marshall tried to cheer up the dejected sheriff. “You’ll find someone else, for sure.”

“You know it.” Roy winked at him. “There’s some good looking guys right at this table, too.” He gave Lee a significant look. Marshall scowled and moved his chair closer to Lee’s, which earned him a snicker.

“Oh no, don’t you start too,” Marshall warned the older man.

“Too?” Slim raised an eyebrow. “Is there a story there, Lee?”

Lee shook his head. “Naw, nothing really.” He raised his hand to gain the server’s attention, and a moment later, Blondie stood beside them, ready to take their order. Each man named his poison. Marshall noticed Blondie had moved his sights to Rye, who fairly ate up the attention.

“Why don’t I help you carry those?” he offered, following the server toward the bar. Marshall noticed a little more spring in Blondie’s step.

Denver leaned across the table toward Marshall. “I bet he gets him in one of the back rooms,” he confided. “Like in the next five minutes.”

Partners was notorious among its patrons for the small back rooms that were the scene, more often than not, of intimate encounters, primarily between men. Most of the women preferred their lovemaking taken to different venues, but the men weren’t as picky, and usually twice as horny. It wasn’t unusual to see the beginning of such encounters on the dance floor, or at the tables, and people tended to look the other way if a couple showed a bit of flesh while caught in the throes of lust.

“I bet you’re right,” Lee agreed with a laugh.

“And I think I might be right behind him. Check out that sexy drink of cowboy at your nine o’clock.”

Marshall and Lee both turned and look in the direction indicated. A Sam Elliot look-alike was sitting alone, drawing on a draft. He seemed to be eyeing Denver up as well.

“Go for it,” Marshall encouraged him. “You know you want to.”

“Hell to the yeah. See that ten gallon he’s got on? I’ll be wearing it by the time we come back out,” Denver said confidently as he got to his feet and moseyed in the direction of his dream cowboy.

Just thinking about the back room made Marshall horny. He and Lee had been back there a few times themselves. Sometimes the drive home was too long, especially when Marshall had a hard-on for Lee that wouldn’t quit.

Like now.

Rye returned with the server, long enough to leave the drinks, their attention somewhere else. Sure enough, moments later, they were hand-in-hand, heading toward the rear of the bar.

Marshall squirmed in his chair a little. He lightly feathered his fingers along Lee’s thigh. “How about another dance?” he suggested.

“Go ahead, have some fun,” Roy encouraged them. “Slim and I can catch up, can’t we?”

“You betcha,” Slim agreed. “Go for it, you two.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

On the dance floor once more, they fell into an intimate two-step. Marshall snaked his hand between them, boldly cupping Lee through the fabric.

“I bet I can read your mind,” Lee murmured huskily into Marshall’s ear.

“Bet you can.”

Lee pressed against Marshall’s hand. “Let’s go in back,” he suggested.

“Fuck yeah.” Marshall fairly whimpered with need. “Right now, please, Sir.”