Justin caught his first glimpse of Brian in two days. He strained to see him through a space between the planks of wood.  His idle fingers itched anxiously.  As the young man continued to stare, he was enthralled by the sight.  If only he had access to a pencil and paper so he could sketch what he was viewing right now. 

Even though the leader of this band of outlaws was scruffy with a few days worth of stubble, Justin still regarded Brian Kinney as the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.  The man was certainly a tall drink of water.  His gun holster was slung provocatively low on his hips, accentuating his groin area.  A bulge in the front of his pants revealed the promise of a well endowed package, which sent shivers of desire through Justin's entire body. 

When Brian turned so that his back was facing him, the younger man sighed wistfully.  With each movement, taunt muscles rippled under the expanse of his fitted shirt.  Justin longed to leisurely traipse his fingers across the brunet's back and down the length of his well toned arms. 

Fuck.  What was he doing?  This man was his captor, his enemy.  Why was he daydreaming about him? 

Brian turned to walk inside the ranch, when his attention was drawn to a flash of blond coming from an upstairs room.  When their eyes connected, the figure at the window disappeared.  Brian realized it had been Justin's room.

Knowing that the young man was spying on him made Brian grin smugly to himself.  Although he had been successfully avoiding the kid, he suddenly had a compulsion to see the blond and apprise him of what was going on.  He figured he at least owed him that much.   

Justin's face became flushed when the door to his room flew open and Brian waltzed in.  A couple of buttons on Brian's shirt had been undone, revealing a portion of his sweaty chest with a few hairs plastered to it.

"Mr. Kinney," Justin addressed him, barely able to keep his eyes off the exposed patch of skin.   

"Brian.  You can call me Brian."

"Mr. Kinney," Justin emphasized purposely ignoring his request.  "I haven't seen you in two days and now here you are."

Brian couldn't help but notice that the young man's tone held a hint of annoyance when he spoke.  It both amused and turned him on at the same time.  Trying to remember his original intent, he took a breath to focus on what he was going to say.

"I wanted to talk with you.  Let you know what's going on."

"How very considerate of you, Mr. Kinney."

"Don't thank me just yet." 

Brian stepped closer until he was practically hovering over Justin.  For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence as they were both overwhelmed by the intensity of the heat between them.  Justin nervously began to wring his hands.  Brian cleared his throat and continued, new beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

"Your father has received Mr. Stockwell's demands in exchange for your safe return.  However, he wants proof that you were captured, since he claims you were leaving the house to go off on your own."

"What kind of proof?" Justin queried.

"We are going to send him some of your personal belongings that my men took when they abducted you."

"You have my things?"

"Yes.  I plan on sending your parents some articles of clothing, as well as a sketch pad of yours.  By the way, you are quite the artist."

Justin stood up, invading Brian's space and further adding to the awkwardness of their exchange. 

"Uh...thank you.  I've been drawing since I was a babe."

"You're very good at it.  Do you draw anything else besides animals and landscapes?" 

Justin heard the words coming from his mouth, but couldn't believe Brian was actually sincere in his interest to learn more about him.

"Sometimes I sketch people when I'm inspired," he responded warily.

"And what inspires you?" Brian pressed, his eyes laden with forbidden lust.

"It could be the person's smile, their hands, their eyes.  Just about anything given the right subject." 

Although he wasn't fully cognizant of it, Justin flirtatiously batted his eyelashes.

Brian raised his hand and reached out to touch Justin's hair.  He twirled it around his fingers.  Then he leaned forward until his lips were almost touching the blond's. 

Justin couldn't move.  He was frozen under Brian's spell.  He could feel his warm breath, and smell his musky scent.  Justin thought for sure the older man was going to kiss him, but Brian didn't.  Instead, the brunet pulled away and his hands dropped to his sides.

Brian watched the young man's disappointed expression and chuckled softly. 

"Don't flirt with me, little boy.  You're in enough trouble as it is," he warned in a husky tone.

Rather than becoming embarrassed, Justin became pissed. 

"Who says I was flirting with you?"

"Don't think I didn't notice that you were staring at me before and now you're practically throwing yourself at me."

"Fuck you.  It will be a cold day in hell before I let anything happen between the two of us."

"That's good," Brian snarled.   "...because you're just a job to me.  I have no interest in getting near your perky ass.  My only concern is making my money and going on my way."

Brian felt a twinge of remorse when he saw Justin's eyes tear up.  He couldn't afford to mess this up, so he hastily left the room, slamming the door closed in his wake.

Justin was frustrated with his situation.  That and the fact that he had so easily let Brian make a fool out of him, chapped his ass.  However, the worst thing was that sometimes when he got upset, he would mist up.  Of course this was one of those times when he was unable to control his emotions.  Now, Brian must really think he was a sad, pathetic faggot.  He threw himself on the bed and gave in to a long overdue cry.  Through his angry tears he cursed the object of his tirade.

Fuck you, Brian Kinney.

Meanwhile, Brian was doing some cussing of his own.  He stalked outside for a smoke.  It always relaxed him and helped him to think.  He had never had such a strong reaction to anyone before.   Every time he was near the blond, he felt drawn to him.  The pull was so strong, that he had to constantly fight to maintain his composure.  The young man's defiance had only served to arouse him even more.

What the fuck was it with Justin Taylor?  Why did he crave to know more about him?  And why the fuck should he care if he had hurt him with his stinging words?

Brian's gut told him that he would be wise to walk away from this job.  But he couldn't.