Saddle Up & Ride

Wes Gordon lets his friend Peter convince him to go on a vacation in order to recover from a heartache. Strangely, Peter takes them to a dude ranch, of all places. But both guys find more than just a bargain vacation when they meet up with some very sexy cowboys.

Click on the picture above to look at this book, or just to check out my other website where I have many titles for sale, all for 1.99$ or less! If you like Slash Romances with a splash of Yaoi, this is the place to go! 

A/N: This story is an interesting experiment on my part. If it does well, I might write a series of interconnected romances with the single men living in this apartment building. So let me know what you think and if you like it, because if there isn't enough interest in it I'll just keep it as one story -DL

Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6



                                  Chapter 1 






    Damiano Venini(known as Damian to his friends) looked up from his laptop computer when he heard a knock at the front door. He rose smoothly to his feet, setting his laptop down on one of the tables in the sitting room as he went by. He padded barefoot out into the hallway that divided the apartment building into two sections, walking toward the front door as he called out: "I'm coming!" to whoever was on the front porch.  

He passed the large archway that led into the open dining room where the inhabitants of the apartment building gathered three times a day for meals(if they wanted to, and wanted to pay the extra fee for meals that he added onto their rent each month). At this time of day, the dining room was empty. The table hadn't even been made up for dinner yet. And he was the only one in the sitting room as well, since everybody else was at work or school at three o'clock in the afternoon. The only other person in the building at the moment was the temporary cook that Damian had hired to make their meals, while he advertised for a housekeeper/cook to replace the last one, who'd moved back East to be with his boyfriend. 
 
 Damian reached the front door, pulling up the wrought-iron latch and swinging it open. Sunlight flooded into the front hall, and Damian saw a slim young man standing on the front porch of the apartment building. He couldn't make out this person's face, since his eyes were dazzled by the bright afternoon sun. "Hello," he said. "Can I help you?"

 "Yes," a rather musical voice replied. "I saw an advertisement that said you're looking for a housekeeper/cook?"

"Oh, yes," Damian said, feeling hope well up in him. He was already tired of doing all of the housework around the place, as well as all of the maintenance. It didn't give him much time to get his work done; he worked at home, writing and editing technical manuals. He hadn't gotten much done for the last few weeks. "I am. Are you interested in the job?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," the man on his doorstep replied. "I've already worked as a housekeeper for a wealthy couple, and I know how to cook, too. The pay does include free room and board, right?"

 "It does," Damian said eagerly, swinging the door open even wider. "Please come in, and we can talk about the job and the pay and what your duties would be if you take it."

 "All right," his visitor stepped neatly inside, and walked a bit past Damian. He shut the door, then turned to look at the man who'd just walked into his apartment building. As his eyes adjusted to the slight gloom in the hallway, Damian harshed in a sharp breath when he saw the face of his visitor.

   Beautiful. That's the only word that he could use for the gorgeous, stunning face that he saw. Silky brown skin with a slight reddish tinge to it covered a fine-boned face, and a sensual mouth was lifted in the slightest of smiles as he met Damian's eyes. His own eyes were a deep, rich brown, large and framed by the thickest, blackest lashes that Damian had ever seen. That wasn't eyeliner, either; it was all him. Tightly-curling, glossy black hair fell in a sweep almost to his shoulders. An Indian beauty was standing in his front hallway, and Damian felt his mouth water slightly as his breathing became a bit uneven. 

"Err, let's go in there," he said, when he realized that he'd been standing there for at least two minutes just staring at his visitor. He pointed down the hallway, toward the arch that led into the sitting room where he'd just come from. "So we can talk. Do you want something to drink?"

 "Yes, that would be wonderful," his visitor said. "It's pretty hot out today."

 "Yeah, it is. Why don't you have a seat in here," Damian said, leading the way into the sitting room, "And I'll go get you something to drink. Is water okay?"

 "Water is fine," the other man said, sitting down gracefully on one of the couches. 

"I'll be right back," Damian darted away toward the dining room, and the door that led off of it into the large kitchen. "Get a hold of yourself, Damian," he muttered to himself as he hurried through the dining room. "You're acting like a teenager with his first crush."


 He greeted the temporary cook as he walked into the kitchen, then took a couple of deep breaths as he headed for the large refrigerator to grab a bottle of water for his guest. His own reaction had taken him by surprise. He wasn't a teenager - far from it, in fact. He was a thirty-year-old man who'd had his fair share of lovers in the past, and who might be between boyfriends right now but didn't usually act like a callow youth because of that fact. But something about...whoever he was...had thrown him for a loop. 


He held the bottle of chilled water briefly to his forehead, cursing his own hormonal freak-out. If this guy was willing and able to take the housekeeper/cook job, Damian couldn’t afford to drive him off by slavering all over him. He NEEDED to fill this position, and there had been no other takers for the three weeks since he'd put out the ad. He was getting a bit desperate. He needed to calm down and talk and act like a rational being. 

   Pulling himself together, Damian padded back to the sitting room with the bottle of water in his hand. He held it out to his visitor, who took it with polite thanks. He seated himself across from the other man, and took a deep breath. "Let’s get started. My name is Damiano Venini, and I own this building..."

 He saw a look of surprise run over his visitor's face. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

 "Are you Italian? You don't look Italian," his visitor said, looking him over.

 Damian smiled wryly. He often got this reaction when people heard his name - they invariably expected a swarthy man with a blade of a nose and heavy Italian bone structure. He knew that he didn't look like a 'normal' Italian man in the least - he had a mane of dark-blond hair, leaf-green eyes, and pale skin. His nose was aquiline, and his face rather long. His body was long-limbed and broad-shouldered. "Yes, I'm Italian. Or at least my family are. My parents came from Northern Italy. There are a lot of blondes who look like me there," he added with a grin. "People are always surprised - they think all Italians look alike."

  "Yes, people always assume that all Indians look alike as well," his visitor agreed. "It can get very annoying."

 Damian nodded. "Anyway, you can call me Damian, everybody does. What's your name?"

 "I am Rahul Jhadav. I'm a first generation American, like you. My family comes from Bengal, India," his visitor replied. 

  "Well, let's hear it for immigrants," Damian said cheerfully. "So, you want to apply for our housekeeper job? You realize that the pay's not great?" he said, then shut up when he realized what he was saying. 'Way to go not driving him off, idiot!' he groaned at himself in his own head.

 "Yes. Your ad said how much you pay. But that doesn’t matter - what's more important to me is the free room and board.  Rent is so high in this city that even a medium-paying job doesn’t pay for much in the way of a roof over your head," Rahul said seriously. "I'd rather have a somewhat lower-paying job and a nice place to live," he added, looking around the cozy sitting room.

  "Great," Damian said. "You said that you were a housekeeper before?"

 Rahul nodded. Damian stared at his lovely hair, imaging himself running his fingers through it. Then he shook his head a little, pulling himself out of his trance with difficulty. Damn it, he had to stop this! "I worked as a housekeeper for the wealthy couple who employ my father as a gardener," Rahul explained. "I started when I was eighteen, just out of high school. At the same time, I started taking one or two classes a year at the university. That way, I could pay for the classes myself out of my salary, rather than getting neck-deep in debt with student loans. It's worked out well so far, but I've decided that I don't want to live with my parents anymore. I'm too old to be mooching off of them, even if they don't mind. That's why I was so happy to see your ad. If I work here, I can still take my one or two classes, and have plenty of time to do my job as well. And there is this..." he trailed off, glancing at Damian and then away as a faint color rose up in his cheeks under his dark skin. "My parents know...that I'm...gay, but I never dated much when I was living with them. It made them too uncomfortable. If I live here, in this place where so many gay men live..."

 "I get you," a relieved Damian replied, happy you hear that this beauty was gay. "And yes, all of my tenants are gay. Not that I'm exclusive...straight people could move in if they wanted to, but most of them wouldn't even think of living in the heart of the Castro District. So it's all gay guys by default, which works out for me anyway. I'm gay, too," he told Rahul. "So it's nice to be surrounded with my 'brothers'." 

Rahul laughed, a silvery sound that did bad things to Damian’s groin and stomach muscles. "Yes, I can imagine it must be wonderful to live with so many other gay men," he said softly.

 "Well, sometimes. Other times, they can be bitchy, catty, over-emotional, and shrill," Damian said with a laugh. "But everything has its drawbacks. I sort of consider myself to be their older brother, since most of my tenants are younger than me. Well, except for two. One is thirty-five, and the other is thirty-seven. I'm thirty," Damian went on for his edification. 

"Ah. I'm twenty-six," Rahul told him. 

Damian felt that this was a good age difference. But then, he thought that everything about the gorgeous Rahul was good...he cleared his throat. 

"Anyway, your duties would be cleaning the common rooms downstairs, like this sitting room, the dining room, the downstairs kitchen and the bathrooms.  Also, you'd have to cook a meal for eighteen people three times a day, and I offer laundry service for an extra fee. I'd split that fee with you if you'll do anybody's laundry who wants the service, and that'd be some extra funds for you.  You don't have to clean the apartments themselves - that's up to the tenants. Although my last housekeeper did clean the apartments sometimes to make extra money, and I don’t mind you doing it if you want to.  It's just not something you have to do as part of your duties. Does that sound good to you?" he asked anxiously. He really wanted Rahul for this job, and not just because he desperately needed a housekeeper. 

   "It does," Rahul said. "Where is my room?"

   "I'll show you," a happy Damian said, leaping to his feet. "Come with me." 

Rahul followed him as he went out into the hallway. He led the way down it toward the back of the building, passing the staircase that led to the apartments upstairs. "This used to be a boarding house once upon a time," he remarked over his shoulder. "My father worked here as a maintenance man. But San Francisco doesn’t get a lot of gold miners anymore, and the number of boarders kept dropping off. The old man who owned it willed it to my father when he died, as a gift for his long service. He worked here for over forty years," Damian explained. "He also left my father some money, and he converted the single rooms into apartments himself by knocking down walls and remodeling it into an apartment building. By then, gay people were starting to live here, and my father didn't mind having them as renters so this place has always been popular. I took over running the building when he retired, though I have outside work that I do as well. I write and edit technical manuals," he added as he arrived at a door. "This is your room," he said, opening the door so that Rahul could see inside.


It wasn't the largest room, but it was comfortably-furnished and had a lovely view of the side garden from the window. "You don't have a bathroom," Damian said apologetically, "You'll have to use the one down the hall. But it's fully-equipped with a tub and a shower, and a lock on the door when you want privacy."

 "That's fine. I'm used to sharing a bathroom with six siblings," Rahul replied as he stepped into the bedroom and stood looking around.  


Damian whistled softly. "Six siblings? That must have been pretty chaotic."

   "Sometimes. But it could also be very exciting," Rahul said. "Still, it will be nice to have a room of my own where I can go to get away from everyone. Privacy was at a premium in my parents' house."

   "If you ever need anything from me, my apartment is just down the hall," Damian said. "I live in the building to save on paying rent, and I converted a couple of storage rooms that weren’t needed anymore into a small apartment for myself. I did all of the work remodeling. My father taught me how to do everything."

   "Do you want me to clean your apartment?" Rahul asked him, taking him by surprise.  

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," he replied hurriedly. "Those are the only rooms on this floor that you won't be responsible for cleaning."

 Rahul nodded. "Can I see the rest of the downstairs now? I'd like to see what I will be responsible for."

 "Sure. Let me give you the tour," Damian showed him the downstairs bathroom that he'd be using, the large linen closet where the residents could come and get clean linens and pillowcases for their apartments once a week(He assured Rahul that he wasn't responsible for washing anything in the linen closet. Damian sent them out to a professional service once a week), the spacious, tile-lined laundry room near the backdoor, a storage room where Damian kept various tools and supplies, and last but not least the dining room and the huge kitchen. 

   Rahul exclaimed over the kitchen, which had flagstone flooring, bleached-pine cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless-steel appliances. A large butcher's block took up the middle of the floor, built into the top of a set of cabinets. Two wrought-iron racks held various pots and pans, and a huge wrought-iron chandelier cast a golden glow over the kitchen. Fragrant herbs in pots lined the sills of the set of windows against the south wall.
  
The temporary cook looked up from the stuff cooking on the stove top, smiling in greeting. "Hey, Damian; back again already?" he said.

"Hey, Pete. I'd like you to meet my new housekeeper/cook. I'm just showing him around."

 The cook looked pleased. "You finally found somebody?! That's great!" he cried. He came over to shake Rahul's hand. "I'm Pete. Damian calls me in to cook when he's between housekeepers, and I do it because we're friends. But I'm always happy when he hires someone to fill the position. It's not easy to feed all of those hungry mouths three times a day, and I have a catering business to run. It can run by itself for a few weeks, but after that it starts to be a strain on me. I'm REALLY glad to meet you!" he repeated fervently, shaking Rahul's hand energetically.

   Rahul laughed a little. Damian watched his face, enthralled by his expression when he laughed. Pete finally let go of Rahul's hand. "I'll just finish cooking dinner, and then you're on your own after that," he told Damian and Rahul. 

"Thanks, Pete, I really appreciate it," Damian told him.

 "I know you do. Why don't you look around?" he said to Rahul. "Get to know the kitchen and where everything is. If you need any help, just holler."

   Damian and Rahul shared glances. Damian grinned and shrugged silently, then led the way over to the large refrigerator and opened it up. "Take a look and see if there's anything you want me to buy," he told Rahul. "You could make me a list, and I'll run to the store tonight so that you'll have everything you need for tomorrow."

   Rahul peered into the well-stocked refrigerator, seeing what there was to see. And Damian stared at Rahul, knowing he shouldn't but unable to help himself. The man's profile was even more beautiful, and a single inky curl was caressing the side of his face. Much like Damian wanted to.  "It seems pretty well-stocked," Rahul said, bringing his attention back where it belonged again. "There's only a few things I can think of that I might need."

   "Cool. Write them down for me," Damian rummaged in a drawer to find a pad of paper and a pen, and handed them to Rahul. 

Rahul began to write out a list, and Damian surreptitiously watched him all the time.  His face was so serious, so intent. Damian wondered silently what that face would look like in the throes of passion. He drew in a sharp breath at this thought, then wanted to moan in discomfort as the front of his jeans became too tight. 'Stupid, stupid!' he raged at himself silently. 

   "Damian?" he jumped about a foot in the air as Rahul spoke to him. 

   "Uhh, what?!" he cried, then felt like a complete moron as Rahul's shapely dark brows rose toward his hairline. 

"The list is done," Rahul held it out to him. 

"Thanks," he said, taking it. He tried to ignore the way their fingers brushed, because it wouldn't help his little problem at all. "I'll run to the store after dinner and pick everything up. Why don't you look around the kitchen, get to know where everything is, while I get the paperwork you have to fill out for the job. W-2s and that sort of thing. That sound good?"

"It sounds great," Rahul replied. 

Damian left him and Pete to chat together in the kitchen, while Rahul opened cupboards and drawers. He was glad to retreat back to the sitting room, and the writing desk that was his own personal domain. It gave him some time to recover his equilibrium, as he rifled through the accordion folder where he kept the important papers pertaining to the running of the apartment building. He found the little contract that he always had the housekeeper sign, as well as the necessary tax forms. He carried these back to the kitchen, seeing Rahul looking into the cabinet where the dishes were stacked neatly on the shelves. 

"Here we are," he said, holding up the papers. "You can fill these out, then maybe move your stuff in..."

 "I'll have to go home and pack," Rahul commented, taking the papers from him and setting them on the counter so that he could fill them out. 

"Do you need a ride or something?" Damian asked.

 "No, I'm fine."

   Damian started to say something else, but just then the smaller door that was set into the kitchen door which led out into the side garden clunked, and an elegant beauty came strolling inside. She padded over to Damian and looked up at him, her blue eyes bright in the dark-brown mask of her face. She yowled, loudly, her pink mouth opening in a demanding way.   

"Hey, Cleopatra," Damian said, leaning down to scoop the haughty feline up in his hands. "Are you hungry, Milady?"

“What a pretty cat!” Rahul exclaimed.

 “Isn’t she?” Damian said, scratching the cat between her ears to make her purr. “This is Queen Cleopatra, the building mascot. Everybody here pampers and spoils her. Don’t they, sweetheart?” he crooned to the cat, who gave him a lidded glance and meowed imperiously.

 “She’s hungry,” Damian said, carrying the cat over to where her food and water bowls were. He set her down, then opened the cupboard next to the bowls to retrieve a bag of expensive dry kibble. He poured a generous amount into the food bowl, and Cleopatra gave him an approving look as she daintily began to eat. 

“She’s a Siamese, right?” Rahul asked.

Damian nodded as he rose to his feet. “Purebred. She just appeared on our doorstep one day. She didn’t have a collar or tags. I tried to find her owners, but no dice. And she just decided that she wanted to live here, so who was I to argue? When our lady wants something, she gets it.”

   Rahul laughed. It was such a pleasant sound; it did funny things in Damian’s abdomen.  “I’ve never had a cat before. My parents had too many mouths to feed anyway,” Rahul said. “It’ll be nice to  have a cat around. I’ve always wanted one.”

   “Well, be prepared for endless demands for affection and food,” Damian told him with a grin. 

“I think I can handle that. Anyway, let me fill out these forms and then I’ll head home to pack up my stuff.” Rahul bent over the counter, and Damian tried not to drool as he stared at the round little ass being displayed for his delectation in a pair of fairly tight jeans.

A hand smacked him briskly on the ass. He jumped, turning his head to look into Pete's eyes. The other man shook his head and pursed his lips. He leaned over and hissed softly into Damian's ear: "Don't scare him off with your drooling and leering, Damian. If you lose this one, I won't come and cook for you," he added sternly in warning.

 Damian grimaced, nodding his head. He'd have to try not to ogle Rahul so openly. It wasn't going to be easy, but he'd do it for the good of the group. His renters would NOT be pleased with him if there was no one to cook for them. He couldn't afford to drive Rahul off by making him uncomfortable. He deliberately forced himself to turn away and not stare at Rahul anymore. Pete looked pleased, going back to his cooking. 

"I'm finished," Rahul's voice said a few minutes later.

He turned back to see the lovely Indian man holding out the small sheaf of papers. "Thanks," he said, taking them.

"I'll go home and pack up my stuff. I'm really looking forward to working here," Rahul commented with a small smile.

"And we're really looking forward to having you...work here," Damian replied, cursing himself for that small space in the sentence that had turned it into an innuendo.

  Fortunately for him, Rahul didn't seem to notice. "I'll be back later."

   Damian nodded, and went with him to the front door. "Oh, here's a key," he said, remembering. He fished out an extra key from off the key ring he kept at his belt.  "So you can just let yourself in rather than waiting for somebody to let you in."

 "Thank you," Rahul said, taking it. "I'll see you in awhile."

 "Great," Damian smiled as Rahul went out the front door.

   He took a deep breath after Rahul was gone. It was really great that he'd filled the position - and really bad that he was already so desperately attracted to his new housekeeper. He sighed as he walked back into the kitchen. Pete laughed, seeing his hang-dog expression. "Somebody's got a crush on his new housekeeper," he teased. 

Damian snorted. "I can't help it. He's gorgeous," he said reverently.

 "Yes, he is.  It's going to tickle me pink to think about you being trapped in this building with a guy that gives you a 24-hour erection," he went on with a chuckle.

 Damian glared at him. "You are a horrible person."

   Pete grinned unrepentantly. "Yes, I am. Anyway, the food's done. I'll leave it in the warmer. I've got to get going, Danny's taking me out to eat since I spent all day cooking for you."

   "Thanks, Pete. I really appreciate it," Damian told him fervently. 


"I know you do. That's the only reason that I do it. Anyway, see you later," Pete waved and departed, leaving Damian alone in the kitchen with Queen Cleopatra. 

"Ah, Milady," he sighed as he leaned his ass back against the counter. "What am I going to do? My new housekeeper is going to drive me crazy."

The cat continued to delicately eat her kibble, ignoring him as usual. Damian sunk his chin on his chest and wondered how he was going to survive the next few months. Why did God have to have such a nasty sense of humor?  




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