Free The Ranchers Son by RJ Scott Page B

nearly black in this light; brown eyes; rough, scarred skin on his
neck; the tattoos climbing his chest and shoulder. He attempted to twist to see
the horse in the mirror, but that just made his chest ache. He could recall
what it looked like and didn’t need to see it again. Stubble was slowly turning
to beard, and that didn’t feel right .
    Scars on my
neck. No beard. Tattoos all over my torso. I wonder what Ethan sees when he
looks at me?
    Actually, Adam could
guess what Ethan saw.
    The one who was
alive.
    Not his brother,
not Justin. That was who he saw. What Adam had focused on in Ethan’s expression
just then couldn’t be anything but concern. There was nothing else it could be.
    Adam was there and
Ethan’s brother wasn’t. Simple as that. Ethan probably hated him under the calm,
supportive exterior.
    But Adam didn’t
feel hate. He felt warmth inside him whenever he thought of Ethan. And hell,
wasn’t it Ethan’s name he recalled in the hospital? Not Cole’s or anyone else’s.
    He’d looked to
Ethan for help, and Ethan had been there for him ever since.
    Adam’s cock thickened, and it took him by surprise that thinking
about Ethan had this effect on him. Hell, if he could recall what sex was like,
or what he’d done…. All he knew was his body was reacting and instinct took
over.
    Staring at his face, he closed his hand
around his cock and lost
himself in the sensation of connecting to his body again.
    Everything seemed
to take forever in this smooth drive to getting off, but Ethan’s voice
interrupted Adam’s focus.
    “You okay in
there, Adam?”
    “I’m okay.” He
felt the burn of embarrassment and stepped away from the sink, turning on the
shower. The last thing he needed was Ethan walking in on him to check if he was
still alive.
    The toiletry bag
held everything he could need to shave, but the effort seemed way too great,
and it hurt just a little bit too much to lift his arms. He settled for pulling
out the shampoo, conditioner and shower gel.
    The water was heavy on his back. As he turned to allow it to press against
his chest, he winced. He quickly turned around so his back was under the water
again; it was the lesser of two evils.
    He washed his hair
and put conditioner on it, because that was what he knew to do, a routine from
his past.
    I’m the kind of
man who takes care of himself. Someone who conditions his hair.
    The shower gel
smelled of lemon, and he washed every inch of himself. His cock made a valiant
rise, but not too far. Even the somewhat erotic thoughts of Ethan were pushed
to one side by the sheer joy of feeling clean. He hummed a little under the
water, then realized he was humming, and in recognizing the fact, completely
lost whatever tune he’d been using.
    He rinsed out the
conditioner and turned off the water, toweling his hair and wrapping a towel
around his waist. He should have brought clothes in with him, but that was his
life at the moment, a confusion of barely thought-out shit.
    He opened the door
and the steam inside the bathroom billowed into the room.
    “Was it good?”
Ethan asked.
    He stood and
stepped closer, and abruptly Adam felt uncomfortable at the fresh scrutiny his
traveling companion was giving him.
    Adam rubbed a hand
over his stubble, an unconscious gesture of apology that he hadn’t used the
shaving bits and pieces in the kit.
    “If you want me to
do that, I can,” Ethan said, his voice a little unsteady.
    “What?”
    Ethan touched a
hand to Adam’s beard and then dropped his hand as if the touch had burned him.
“Shave you.”
    That kind of offer
sounded curiously intimate, and Adam’s cock was well into the idea of a party
now. “I’m okay,” he said.
    Ethan smiled at
him. “Beards are in.”
    Then he went into
the bathroom and pulled the door shut, leaving Adam standing there wondering what
the fuck had just happened between them.
    And also, what the
hell? Beards were in? Had he somehow been transferred back to the seventies?
    He