This week, Don't Look Back continues with more of Marshall and Lee's adventures at Partners. Who did they run into? Read this week's chapter and find out! Don't forget to visit the other Briefers, whose links follow my tale. Enjoy!
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.”
to be continued
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