Riding Ryder

Riding Ryder

Raven McAllan

Breathless Press

Calgary, Alberta

www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Riding Ryder

Copyright© 2012 Raven McAllan

ISBN: 978-1-77101-088-7

Cover Artist: Victoria Miller

Editor: Jackie Moore

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.

Breathless Press

www.breathlesspress.com

To June, thanks for all your help.

To Paul, Doris, UCW, Justyn, Jackie, and Victoria, without whom you would not be reading this.

Chapter One

The only sounds Caleb Ryder could hear, apart from the pounding of his heart, were the splashes of the waves as they ebbed and flowed over the sand, and two seagulls squabbling over a fish.

As he ran fluidly along the wet sands, the
slap, slap
of his bare feet echoed the swish of his long, black braid as it swung across his back. Sweat gleamed on his bare body, glistening in the early morning sunshine. On this beach, at this time of day, clothing was optional, and he always chose to opt out.

Definitely the best part of the day. No one to look and wonder; no one to fall over or maneuver around. Just him and nature. And two seagulls.

He veered off the sand and into the dunes and discovered he had been wrong. Not just him, nature, and two seagulls. Him, nature, two seagulls, and a honed, toned, tanned, and very naked, drop-dead, play-your-cards-right-and-you-can-have-me male, whom he then fell over.

Caleb put his hand out to cushion the fall.

Yes, cushioned, all right. His hand closed around what seemed like the finest cock he had wrapped his fingers around in a long time. One that was growing and hardening with every moment. With his breath temporarily knocked out of him, he was at a loss for words. He would have been anyway, once he’d seen that body. God, the man was hot. He had never thought the phrase ‘bronzed Adonis’ would fit anyone, but he’d been wrong. Here and now, it fit to perfection. He
was
perfection. And, oh fuck, Caleb realized, he was still sprawled over him, that luscious cock still held firmly in his hand, and his own body responding enthusiastically to its position.

Apologies were perhaps required.

Or perhaps not. The shaking he could feel was the other man laughing. He began to chuckle himself. After all, how often did a naked body—literally—fall over another naked body on a public beach in Scotland?

Rolling to one side, sitting up, and pushing his plait over one shoulder, he reluctantly removed his hand from where it was getting much too comfortable. He proffered it to be shaken instead.

“Jeez, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s not very often I see anyone on the beach at this time of the morning. Well, this far out of town at any time, really. Especially naked.” He took his time in assessing the man and his body. It took him a minute to realize that while his hand had been taken and shaken firmly, his assessing look was being returned. With bells on.

“No sweat. Thought I’d take advantage of the sun and quiet while I could. Since I’ve been here, it’s rained so much, I was afraid I’d rust. This beach is cool, reminds me of some places at home.”

It dawned on Caleb that he could hear an Aussie twang in the man’s voice. It reminded him of backpacking, years earlier. The very holiday when he had learned how to hone and perfect his ability.

“Melbourne?” he asked with interest.

The other man nodded. “Well, St. Kilda, as near as. Logan Millar. Pleased to meet you.”

“Caleb Ryder.”

His answer was met with a whistle. “Caleb Ryder, eh? That’s saved me a trip across country. I thought you worked over the west?”

“I do. I’m taking a few days off.” No way was he going to mention his “get away from it all” cottage, which was tucked away behind the dunes. “Why? Are you looking to see me over there?”

“Here, there, wherever,” was the reply.

Okay, Caleb, he thought.
Fall for it.
“Why?”

“To ask if I can work with you.”

The silence stretched.
O-kay. Is this a try-on? A fishing trip?

“Er, what as, exactly?” His tone was mildly inquiring. He watched as Logan stood up in one smooth motion, the fine blond hairs on his body shimmering as the sun caught them in its light. The blond hair, cropped short to his skull, seemed so fine a puff of wind might blow it away; the blue, mesmeric eyes were as deep and fathomless as his own. He grabbed the hand extended to him and stood up, waiting.

“Do you remember Ally Fisher?” Logan asked. “From Sydney?”

He nodded, remembering the circumstances surrounding their friendship.

Logan hesitated. “My sister. Well, stepsister, no blood relation. She’s just gotten married, and in a bout of frank and no-holds-barred conversation before the big day, told me all about this guy who had helped her enjoy sex.”

“Oh?” Caleb tried to sound noncommittal. No one but he and Ally knew the reasons for their meeting. “A lovely lady. So, she’s married? That’s good.”

“Yup. Well, we were both fairly slaughtered, and I was moaning that my dry spell was longer than an Outback drought. I knew she was bi and had been dry for a goodish while herself until she met Mike—her husband, as he is now. So I asked her what she meant, and she told me about this guy who had helped her explore her own sexuality, making her realize she didn’t need to rely on anyone else to change the season. Said the lessons were amazing, and the bloke was sex on legs to both sexes; he got her sexual preferences spot-on and her anxiety level to nil.

“A few weeks later she met Mike. She was so relaxed that she didn’t go for him all guns firing like she usually did—just had them primed and ready. The rest is now history.” He smiled. “Well, sort of. She went through me like a dose of salts when I called you a sex therapist. Boy, did she ever. I got the whole ‘a hands-on sexuality guide is not a sex therapist’ spiel and knew I was interested. So I Googled you and read just what you achieve and how you achieve it. Now I’m here to meet you. I want to be able to help others. And myself.”

Well, that was honest, anyway. Caleb knew they could both feel that frisson of sexual awareness sizzling between them. Whether he chose to act on it was another matter.

He made his mind up. “Right, come on up to the house, and let’s have a talk.” He waited while Logan picked up a battered duffle bag and turned away from the beach.

“Do I need to put my boardies on?” Logan asked as he followed Caleb through the dunes and onto a narrow path that wound among the gorse bushes backing on to the dunes.

He shook his head, his plait swinging along the base of his spine with the movement. “At this time of day, clothes are optional on the beach. Once you get to the top of the dunes and move this way, it’s private land,” Caleb explained. He carefully skirted a thistle and some nettles, knowing they were considered stimulating by herbalists. That was one thing he didn’t need at the moment. He decided to give them a wide berth. “The owner has no objection to nudity. In fact, he embraces it.”

“The owner?” Logan looked around, almost as if he expected someone to jump out from the bushes.

“Yeah.” Caleb smiled. “Me.” Opening a gate set in a high hedge of gorse and wood, he waited for Logan to pass through before fastening it behind them. Ahead, across a neat lawn, sat a small and obviously old cottage. Originally lived in by a fisherman, it was his bolthole. He wondered what Logan would say if he knew he was the only person ever to be invited there. He couldn’t explain it himself. How could he explain the sudden realization that he wanted someone he had only just met to be part of his world? There was no way he could even begin. Instant attraction was something he had never experienced before.

He hadn’t bothered locking the door. So few people ever found the place, and Rex would soon let him know if anyone tried to get in.

Logan raised an eyebrow as Caleb stood back to let him enter, followed him in, and shut the door behind them.

“Unlocked?” he asked.

“Ah, Rex was on guard.”

“Rex?”

Caleb laughed. “Listen.” As they had crossed the gravel to the house, a soft noise had gradually gotten louder. Once he opened the door, a large and menacing-looking gander rounded the corner, flapping his wings and honking noisily. Seeing Caleb, it quieted, fluffed out its feathers, and put his head forward to be scratched. Logan stuttered when Caleb took hold of his hand and pulled it toward the bird.

“I think I’d rather have my hand over my nadgers, mate, if you don’t mind. That beak looks bloody terrifying.”

“Your choice, but if Rex doesn’t get to know you, it’ll be your goose that’s cooked, so to speak,” Caleb said. “Geese are well -known for their faithfulness and protectiveness to those they consider their family. I’m sure he thinks of me as a father or brother. Well, as a food source anyway! So if you don’t want him to try your balls for dinner, he needs to get the smell of you.” He waited as Logan nodded doubtfully, Rex watching them with his beady eyes. “Right, Rex, Logan. Friend. Okay? Friend.” He put Logan’s hand on to the bird’s head, gently helped him to stroke. Rex twisted his neck to get closer to the touch.

“That’s it. All over. You’ll be fine now.”

“That’s it?” The relief in Logan’s voice was obvious. “Phew. What now?”

“Coffee.” Totally comfortable in his skin, Caleb led the way across the tiny hall and into his kitchen. Logan whistled as he saw the bank of windows that made up the facing wall. Through them was a wall-to-wall view of the sea. Caleb, amused, watched his reaction. “Nice, eh?”

“I should bloody say so. How come it’s sea and cliffs? I thought we came from sand and dunes?”

“The cottage is on a promontory.” Caleb looked through the window, taking in the sea and sky. “I like to be as one with the elements. We walked upward from the beach to here. This side has no beach, just these low cliffs. Lovely, isn’t it?” Caleb was well-satisfied with Logan’s reaction.

“I’ll say. Must knock out everyone who sees it.”

“It does.” His voice was wry. “You and me.”

Logan turned round and stared at him. “Sorry? ‘You and me.’ As in us two? No one else?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Only me and now you. This is my secret. My sanctuary. I come here to get away from Dr. Ryder. Here, I’m just Caleb, that weird guy who keeps a goose as a pet. Actually, nobody keeps Rex. He is his own man. Or goose.” A low honk from outside the open door had them both laughing. “When I’m not here, he usually wanders down to the farm a mile or so along the lane. But he always turns up within five minutes of me. Right, coffee. Do you want toast? Bacon? Full Scottish?”

Logan looked embarrassed. “Honest, mate, coffee is fine. I didn’t mean to barge in on you. Hell, I didn’t even know you were you until you gave your name. I was just enjoying the rays. Tomorrow, I was going to head over to Wester Kirkside and see if I could meet you.”

Caleb tied an apron around his waist. On a lesser man even the manly blue butcher’s stripes would look effeminate. Not on him.

“Executive decision. Bacon and eggs. Fine by you?” He received a nod. “Good.”

He could feel Logan’s eyes on him as he cooked. Before then he’d always thought of cooking as a way to fuel his body. Now? A way to fuel his libido? Maybe. To break his personal vows regarding a partner—as in, best not to have one—and rearrange his outlook? Most likely.

“Well, you don’t need to make the journey now,” he said briskly as he cooked. “We’ll eat, and then you can talk. Tell me what sort of job you think you could do with me.”
Oh, fuck. Now there’s a leading question.
He wondered if Logan would pick up on it. He didn’t wonder for long.

“A fucking marvelous one. ‘Fuck’ being the operative word. I’m guessing by the way that apron is tenting; you’re as horny as I am. And it’s all for me. I don’t have the tent, but I sure as hell have the hard-on. All for you.”

Caleb’s gaze drifted away from the stove to the man standing a non-splatter distance away. Logan’s cock was standing out proudly from the blond curls that caressed it. As he watched, it jerked slightly, as if to say,
he’s right; look at me.
He looked.

An angry crackle from the stove brought his head around.

“Shit. Bacon.” He lowered the grill hurriedly. “Thank God for the apron. Stop distracting me, man. Cooking is serious business.” He began to serve up as he spoke, laughing at the consternation on Logan’s face. “Joke. You can distract me with that cock anytime. Here, grab this plate and let’s eat. Cutlery is in that drawer. Whatever’s going to happen, we need food.” Especially if what he suspected was on both their minds became reality. Then food would be the last thing they thought of. Taking his plate, he slid onto the bench next to Logan and began to eat.

He eyed the man beside him thoughtfully. How could he feel so interested in someone at such short notice? He might teach sexual satisfaction, but he’d never taught love at first sight. Not even lust, for that matter. Caleb was a firm believer in letting feelings grow slowly and then acting on them. Now? He could jump Logan without a second thought and have no regrets.