Tobias: Book One of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tobias delicately traced Jane's pliant body with the pads of his fingertips. Last night had been simply amazing. He fondly remembered her muffled cries of pleasure as he pounded into her. Feeling himself harden, he spared a glance at the clock that was resting peacefully on his old nightstand. 4:57. Titus would be up any minute now.

Cursing softly under his breath, he gently eased himself out of bed, willing his aching erection to go away. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder before donning a pair of pants and opening up the heavy-set door. The door creaked a little louder than he would have liked, but that still didn't stop him from walking quickly down the long expanse of the hallway.

Looking back to make sure nobody had woken up, he didn't realize there was a wall right in front of him until it was too late. Creating a deafening sound that stood out all to well within the large house, his shoulder slammed into the wall, sending him crashing onto the hard, wooden floor. Landing on his hands and knees much too abruptly for comfort, he waited, making sure that nobody had woken up.

Once all was quiet within the rooms, he stood up again and made his way up the stairs. He took deep breaths with every step he took, each step creating the most irritating sound he had ever heard. Sweaty hands gripping the scuffed railing as a small droplet of nervous sweat dripped off his face. His door was just down the hall, across from Titus's.

All too late, his shaking hands touched the brass doorknob to what was originally Taivon's room, but, instead of walking into the warm comforts that the space offered, he was stopped short as he heard Titus's door being opened.

“Mornin', Tobias,” his older brother said from behind him, his voice sounding way too energetic for this early in the morning.

Cursing himself for being so stupid, he turned around, thanking God up on high that his erection had dissipated. Like always, Titus was dressed in jeans, a plain shirt, and a stetson, that ever-present smile on his tanned face.

“Mornin',” he nervously said to the blonde-haired man.

“Why ya up so early?” Titus cast him a skeptical and amused glance, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his own door.

“I had to use the bathroom,” he blurted more than actually said, wringing his hands nervously in front of him.

Titus arched a thick, blonde eyebrow, his stetson raising up on his head by about an inch. “Really? Then why did I hear a loud crash downstairs?”

“Well,” Tobias began, “I also got thirsty, so I had to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. It's not like the woman you're smitten with is downstairs.” Titus grinned, silently alerting Tobias that he had been caught. “Looks like I'll just have to take ya at your word, but-”

“God damn it,” he muttered, hating that small, three-letter word.

“You have to help me out with the chores this mornin'. Luther will take care of the rest after we're done. Now, go get your ass changed.” Titus chuckled and then walked downstairs, his heavy boots clumping in his large mass's wake.

After changing into a wardrobe almost identical to that of his brothers, Tobias clumped downstairs, not caring anymore if he woke anybody else up. He should have seen it coming, but the temptation of Jane had just been too great. Oh well, he thought, it was only a few hours' worth of sweaty, exhausting physical labor.

“Joy,” he muttered, following Tobias's wide steps down to the cow barn.

For the next couple of hours, he poured almost all of his energy out into baling the last remnants of hay, feeding calves, and committing the dirtiest of deeds – castrating the bulls to prevent them from breeding.