"Justice" – Chapter One

by Rhianne Aile

Adam Abrams was tired and dusty.  Glancing quickly to his right and left, he confirmed that his brothers looked as disheveled as he felt.  Passing a sign cheerfully welcoming them to Justice, population 324, he sent up a silent prayer that the name of the town was a good omen.  Maybe here, he and his brothers would find what they were seeking.

The dust-colored buildings drew closer and so did Nathaniel and Noah, tightening ranks like they did every time they were faced with the unknown.  For a town boasting a fairly small population, Justice seemed to be incredibly prosperous.  Businesses lined the main street.  Colorful signs swung in the breeze.  Hitching posts were full, and well-dressed people bustled about industriously.

Pausing in the center of the street, the three men surveyed their surroundings.  As no threat seemed imminent, Noah spoke up, “We need food, sleep, and a place for the horses.”

“I need a drink,” Nathaniel added.  Nathaniel was the youngest of the three brothers, but not at all shy about voicing his opinion.

“Fine, you go get a drink… one drink,” Adam warned pointing towards the saloon.  “Noah and I will take care of the horses and meet you at the hotel.”  Adam knew he spoiled his baby brother, but he felt guilty that the younger man had been denied the love of a mother and father – stuck with the fumbling attempts of an older brother.

Noah rolled his eyes as Nathaniel dismounted, tossed his reins to Adam and strode towards the bar.  He loved both his brothers, but knew that Adam was too serious and Nathaniel too frivolous.  He hoped once this damn quest was over they could settle somewhere for more than a few weeks and things would change.  Adam was almost forty.  He needed a lover to share his life with, not just younger brothers.

“You comin’?” Adam yelled over his shoulder, snapping Noah out of his musing.

Dismounting outside of the stable, Adam looked around, admiring the obvious care that went into the upkeep of the place.  The owner obviously knew his business.  Wrapping the reins around the hitching post, he headed into the cool interior of the barn.  His eyes adjusted quickly to the dimmer light.  Just like the exterior, the interior was clean and organized.

At the far end of the barn, mucking out the last stall, Adam could see a slender, denim-clad form.  “Hey!  Who do I talk to about boarding three horses for a few days?” he called out.

The figure straightened and turned.  ‘Damn, it’s a woman,’ Adam thought as she moved towards him.  Quite a woman at that, she had long blonde hair tied conveniently off her face, curves in all the right places, and long slender legs.  If he’d been into women, this one would have been a keeper.

“That would be me.  Name’s Miranda, but you can call me Randy,” she offered, tugging off a glove, wiping her hand on the thigh of her jeans and extending it in greeting.

“Ah… I….”  Adam took the offered hand.  “I… I’d rather talk to the owner.  The stallion is a little high-spirited and needs a firm hand.”

Randy smiled like she had heard those exact words hundreds of times.  “I am the owner, Mr… ?”

“Oh, Adam… Adam will do.”  He shook his head.  This little bit of a thing owned this stable.  If he hadn’t been so impressed with the way it looked, he would have immediately thanked her for her time and left to find other arrangements.  Sometimes hotels kept a barn for their patrons. 

“So Adam, why don’t we go meet this ‘special’ horse of yours?”  Randy knew without asking that the stallion belonged to this man and not his brother standing quietly in the shadows.  This man deserved a ‘special’ stallion.

Sampson meant more to Adam than he would ever care to admit.  They had found the proud black stallion at one of the first towns they came to after leaving California.  He had been abandoned just outside of town by the man they were following, Elias Riddley, the man who murdered their parents.  The stallion had been starved and mistreated. 

It had taken Adam the better part of two years to earn the horse’s trust.  Unwilling to be ridden, Sampson had followed behind Adam’s horse at first.  Healing the stallion had been therapeutic.  If Adam could heal the damage done to the horse by Riddley, then maybe there was hope that the damage to him and his brothers could be healed as well.

Sampson whickered softly as Randy approached.  He was a large horse, 19 hands, and dwarfed the stable owner… not that she seemed to notice.  She approached the horse at a slow but steady pace, murmuring lilting nonsense the entire time.  She came to a halt on the mounting side of the stallion, asking his permission before touching him. 

Adam stood in awe as Sampson granted approval by nudging Miranda strongly with his head, almost knocking her off her feet.  Adam’s body tensed, ready to leap to her aid and step between her and the unpredictable horse.  Randy just laughed as she regained her balance, scolding the horse in a voice that said she was anything but angry.  Starting with his silky mane, she ran her hands over every inch of the beautiful horse’s body. 

Adam stood spellbound as the horse’s muscles twitched under her soothing touch.  He loved his horse dearly, but right this minute he was insanely jealous of him.  As he watched Sampson respond to the touch of this slip of a woman, Adam’s body tensed for a completely different reason.  A desire to be touched flowed through his veins.  He wanted someone to stroke his body like Randy was touching his horse.  He wanted to accept a touch with trust like Sampson was doing.  If Sampson could find someone to trust in this town, maybe he could, too.

Adam sensed Noah’s approach before he saw the shadow fall on the ground next to him.  “She’s got quite a touch there,” Noah drawled lazily, smiling at his older brother’s discomfiture.

“Come on.  We’ve got to meet Nate at the hotel,” Adam growled.  The two brothers started to unfasten the bags from their saddles.  Adam talked with Randy about care for the three horses and hurriedly made his escape.  Striding towards the hotel, Adam easily shouldered the weight of both his own bags and Nathaniel’s.  Noah let him since Adam was the one who’d let Nathaniel out of his responsibilities before they even checked into the hotel.

 

Nathaniel opened the door to the saloon, setting off a bell.  By the time he reached the bar, a sandy-haired man was there to greet him.  “Welcome.  What can I get ya?”

“Whiskey, thanks,” Nathaniel replied, throwing his leg over a stool and pushing his long duster out behind him as he settled.

The barkeep returned with a glass and a bottle Nathaniel recognized as damn fine whiskey.  ‘I like this town already,’ he thought, pouring himself a shot.

“I’m Luke Coleson.  What brings you to Justice?”

“Nathaniel, but Nate’ll do.  My brothers and I are just passing through and needed a break.  Your town seems fairer than most.  Good a place as any to settle for a spell.”  Normally Nathaniel would have ignored the question.  Adam had taught him to be wary of a stranger’s inquiries, but this man with his wind-blown hair and smiling blue eyes seemed to put him instantly at ease.

Luke nodded and turned back to the box on the floor, removing bottles and placing them carefully on a shelf.  Nathaniel couldn’t help but stare at incredible view every time Luke bent over to retrieve another bottle.  ‘God, the man has an incredible ass.’  His mind filled with daydreams of reaching over the bar and running his hands over the stretched denim, squeezing the firm flesh.  Somehow Nathaniel knew that sex with this man would be raw and powerful.

Trying to distract himself from the throbbing in his jeans, Nathaniel nodded towards the painting of a dark-haired boy behind the bar.  Apart from the fact it was of a boy instead of a woman, it was a typical bordello scene.  The boy was stretched out on a velvet couch, shirt open to expose his bare chest and body positioned in a very sexually suggestive way.  “Unique painting you’ve got there.”

Luke smiled at the painting and turned back to the brooding stranger.  “My bar, my painting, my choice.”  His answer was stated in a calm, quiet voice, but there was an underlying tone that brooked no argument.

“You painted that?” Nathaniel asked, surprised. 

Luke looked at the man seated at his bar for several long seconds before answering.  He could sense no mockery in the question, so he took no offence.  “Yep.  I dabble in painting and photography.  Most of the paintings you’ll see around town are mine.”

“You sell them?”

“Nope,” Luke laughed.  “Give them as gifts mostly.”

“He’s a beautiful boy,” Nathaniel commented gesturing towards the picture again.

“Thank you,” came a soft, rich voice from over his shoulder.

Nathaniel jumped to his feet and turned to face the unknown voice.  Years of looking out for himself and his brothers in bad situations had left him with a serious distrust of having people sneak up behind him.  Especially people he didn’t know.  His mouth fell open as he came face to face with the image in the portrait made flesh… and oh, what flesh.

Nathaniel could feel his knees shake and his mouth fill with saliva.  Unconsciously, he licked his lips.  If Luke was raw sex… leather and lust, this nymph was pure sin… satin and elegance.

The slender man with dark curls stood in front of him, tilting his head to one side before smiling and extending his hand.  “Jamison Moore.”

It took Nathaniel a minute to register that the vision was speaking.  Shaking himself, he met the hand with his own.  “Nate.”

“Nice to meet you, Nate,” Jamison purred as he glided around the bar to Luke’s side.  “Are you passing through or looking for a place to settle?”

“Ahh… not sure yet.”  Passing through was the correct answer.  Nathaniel normally would have said it without a second thought, but something about the two people he’d met so far in this town made him almost desperate to say ‘I’m staying.’

Looking down at the half-empty bottle, Nathaniel shook his head… another promise broken.  “How much do I owe you?”

Luke smiled and waved off Nathaniel’s coin.  “Consider it a ‘Welcome to Justice’ present.  Bring your brothers back with you next time, and I’ll do the same for them.”

Nathaniel thanked him and headed out the door toward the hotel.  Before the door was even shut, Jamison had Luke pressed up against the bar and was kissing him ravenously.  When they broke for air, Luke chuckled, “Wake up from your nap a little horny?”

Jamison just growled, winding his fingers into Luke’s hair and pulling his head to the side so he could place a trail of bites from his ear to his shoulder.  “Want you,” Jamison growled.

Luke moaned and started walking Jamison backward toward the office without allowing any space to come between them.  His lips plundered, and his hands made short work of Jamison’s clothes.  “What do you want?”

“Your great big cock buried in my tight ass,” Jamison answered without hesitating a lick.

“You slut!”  Luke pushed Jamison against the desk and lifted his long legs to wrap around his waist, grinding the hard bulge of his jeans into Jamison’s groin.

“That’s my job, and you wouldn’t want me any other way.”  Jamison smiled cockily as he pinched Luke’s sensitive nipples through the fabric of his shirt.  “You need to be naked.  Now!” Jamison ordered, clawing at the buttons on the barkeep’s shirt.  He managed to slip two free before losing patience and tearing open the shirt and sending buttons skittering to the corners of the room.

Bending to capture one furred nipple with his mouth, Jamison dropped his hands to work at Luke’s belt.  The leather wouldn’t be as easy to defeat as the shirt had been.  As soon as he had the buckle free and the buttons on the pants undone, he slid his hand inside and circled the thick length of his lover’s cock.  Stroking it from base to tip, he groaned, “Need this inside me… now!”

Jamison had come downstairs barefoot, a habit he had caught from Luke.  Unless he was headed outside, Luke could be found behind the bar or pretty much anywhere in the saloon barefoot.  Luke easily stripped the loose jeans from the younger man’s hips, throwing them carelessly towards the chair.  Running his hands back up the smooth thighs, he framed Jamison’s sex with his fingers, pressing underneath the tender sac with his thumbs.  An incoherent gurgle broke from deep in Jamison’s throat.

Luke grabbed the bottle of oil that was still on the desk from their afternoon lovemaking the day before.  Pouring some on the smooth tan belly, he trailed his fingers through it, coating his fingertips and drawing random shapes in the oil.

“Bloody hell, Luke, are you going to fuck me or paint me?” Jamison gasped exasperated.

“Hmmm… painting you sounds like fun….”

“Fuck you!  If you don’t ram that hard cock into my body right now, I’m gonna go find someone who will fuck me.  Think it’d take me long if I walked out of here like this?” Jamison taunted.

Nothing provoked Luke faster than the idea of Jamison leaving him for any reason.  “You wouldn’t find a soul, because I’d shoot them before they could drop their pants,” he growled dangerously.

Jamison pouted, sticking out his bottom lip and looking up at Luke through sooty lashes.  Hell, Luke knew it was an act, but responded to it anyway.  Leaning down for a kiss, he sucked that pouting bottom lip into his mouth and nipped at it lovingly.  He coated his cock with the oil and began to rock it into Jamison’s tight sheath.  He hadn’t prepared him with his fingers, so he took his time pushing in and then rocking out, only to return and push in a little farther. 

With each push, Jamison’s moans got more frantic.  He lay back onto the desk and thrust his hips up towards Luke, trying to get deeper penetration.  “Fuck, Luke!  Give me all of it!”  Desperately needing relief, Jamison grabbed his leaking erection and started to stroke himself.

Luke grabbed his hand and moved it away, placing it on the cool wood of the desk.  “Mine,” he ordered.  “Don’t touch.”  Firmly grasping, Jamison’s hips, he angled his thrust and pounded in and out, repeatedly striking his lover’s prostate and making him scream out in pleasure.  Normally he would touch and stroke Jamison’s arousal, but he was enjoying watching it bob against the flat stomach, leaving a puddle of moisture just begging to be tasted.  Unable to withstand the lure, Luke pulled back until he could lap up the small puddle of pre-come.  Not bothering to try and avoid touching Jamison’s sensitive head, he lapped at the soft, smooth skin like a kitten, his tongue every bit as rough.

Jamison groaned and grabbed Luke’s hair.  Pulling up, Jamison looked deep into Luke’s eyes as he re-sheathed himself.  “Fuck… coming!” he shouted almost immediately.  Shortly after his warning, he came in long bursts all over his stomach and Luke’s chest.  He clenched his thighs tighter, pulling Luke deeper inside his body and urging him with his heels to move faster.

Luke’s head tilted back with a wail, and he let loose, pounding Jamison so hard that the desk shook.  Several things fell with a crash, but neither man paid any attention.  Single-mindedly seeking that burst of pleasure, Luke focused all of his attention on the naked man stretched out below him.  Jamison rippled his internal muscles, and Luke cried out his release, collapsing forward onto Jamison’s chest while his body twitched and shuddered through its aftershocks. 

Easing his arms underneath Jamison, Luke held him tight to his body and fell backwards into the big chair, pulling his lover with him to land straddled over his lap.  As their breathing returned to normal, Luke ran his fingers through Jamison’s damp curls.  “So what do you want?”

Jamison pulled away from Luke’s chest and smirked.  “I don’t suppose playing dumb would work.”

“Nope.”

“Nate.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve taken anybody else into our bed.  Are you sure?  We don’t know anything about him.”  Luke’s questions weren’t meant to discourage, just explore.

“Tell me you didn’t feel it too, and I’ll drop it.”  Jamison looked seriously at his lover.

The corners of Luke’s mouth pulled up into a grin.  “I can’t do that, and you know it.  That boy is special.  I can’t wait to meet his brothers.  I want something in return, though.”

“What?” Jamison asked curiously.

“You get to sew the buttons back on my shirt this time.”