the towel and closing his eyes. “My first major injury was four broken ribs and a punctured lung when a bull kicked me. I was protecting an unconscious cowboy with my body. I was
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supposed to take six months off to heal, but I went back to work after a month. Couldn’t
stand sitting around.”
Peter frowned. “How the hell did you get away with that? I’m pretty sure no doctor
would’ve allowed you to work with a punctured lung.”
“You’d be surprised what you can get away with when you avoid the doc like the
plague. Also, as long as I could do my job, no one was going to complain.” Chaz laughed
softly. “It’s the way with all my injuries. I came back before the doctors’ recommendations. I can’t stay away from the events, plus I can’t afford to take the time off. The only time I don’t work is during the summer break we take.”
Peter was pretty sure the reason Chaz wasn’t working over the break was because the
drugs and the aches took up too much of his time.
“Okay. What was your most recent injury?” Peter had the feeling that was the one
bothering Chaz the most, though the overall pain was probably accumulative, building up
until it knocked him flat.
Chaz muttered something low enough under his breath that Peter didn’t hear it.
“What was that?”
“It was a stupid wreck. I was in Las Vegas last year for the finals, and I got distracted.
The rider got off fine, and the bull was heading for the gate to go back to the pens. I went over to congratulate the guy when the bull came charging back out. He nailed me right in the lower back, tossed me up in the air, and, when I landed, I swear I heard something crack in my spine.”
“Holy shit! That sounds terrible.” Peter stroked Chaz’s knee, which was above the
water. He traced the scars there, testaments to other surgeries.
Earlier he’d been so caught up in desire and need, he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to
Chaz’s body, aside from the fact that it was chiselled and Chaz obviously worked out. Now as they sat in the bathroom, Peter studied Chaz. Scars decorated the man’s skin, and Peter realised just how much damage his lover had taken over the years.
There were surgery scars on his back, chest, stomach and legs. It looked like almost
everywhere a person could get injured, Chaz had been. Just seeing them made Peter want to wrap Chaz up in cotton wool, and not let him out of the house ever again.
“It was terrible. Thank God it was the last night because I wasn’t going to be able to do another round. I jumped to my feet, waved to the crowd, and got back to work. Finished out
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the round, then collapsed in the changing room. Sam carted my ass to the hospital where
they told me I’d fractured two of my lower vertebrae.”
Annoyance and a little bit of fear coloured Chaz’s words.
“Were you afraid you weren’t going to walk, or they were going to tell you to retire
right then and there?”
Chaz nodded. “Of course. Any time one of us hurts ourselves, we worry about being
forced to retire. The worse thing in the world is a neck or back injury, because I can return to work, yet there’s always the thought in my mind that just the right hit or fall could paralyse me for the rest of my life.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Peter said, but he didn’t understand why Chaz would
continue to do something so dangerous. He shook his head. Of course, he never would
because he wasn’t crazy.
“No, you don’t, and that’s cool. Not everyone is meant to work or ride in the rodeo. It
takes a special personality to do it. You probably think we’re all nuts.” Chaz sat up, then braced his hands on the edge of the tub to push himself to his feet.
Peter moved out of the way, so Chaz could climb out and dry off. He stayed close, just
in case Chaz needed any help. Once Chaz was dressed, Peter wandered out into the
bedroom. Chaz was a grown man, and, while he might be wounded, he didn’t need Peter
hovering over him.
He got the heating pad set up, then a thought hit him. “Hey, Chaz, I’ll be right back.”
“All right.” Chaz appeared in the doorway. “I’ll be here. Not really interested in doing
anything except lying in that bed.”
“Good. You shouldn’t be moving around much tonight. We’ll get you doing some stuff
tomorrow. Hopefully, it’ll help loosen up some of your muscles.”
He headed back to his room, then dug through the bottles in his bathroom. Peter
grabbed the massage oil that had come in a basket Lindsey, Randy’s sister-in-law, had sent him for his birthday one year. He wasn’t a professional masseur, but he thought he’d be able to help Chaz get some knots out.
When he got back to Chaz’s room, Chaz was stretched out on the bed, naked as the day
he was born. Peter froze, his eyes drawn to Chaz’s tight ass. Christ! He wanted to take a bite of it. He’d seen some things on the pornos he’d like to try, and rimming was one of them.
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Peter had actually looked it up online to find out what they called it. Hmmm…maybe he
would have to try that after he was done with the massage.
He shook off his daze, then asked, “Are you still awake?”
“Yes. It’d be rude to fall asleep when you were going to be coming back.”
After approaching the bed, Peter sat so Chaz could see him. He held up the bottle of oil.
“I thought I’d give you a massage. Have you ever had one before?”
Chaz wrinkled his nose while he thought. “Not a professional one.”
Peter laughed. “I guess you’d get something when you’re doing some foreplay with
someone.”
“Of course, touching is part of sex.
