Loving Tyler

Coming Out 3

Loving Tyler Tyler James is a pro at keeping his emotions bottled up. He uses sex as a tool, never associating it with love. When Cavendish sends one of their representatives to try and recruit him to be their poster boy, he's ready to tell them where they can shove their offer. But the dark-haired god in the Armani suit has him choking on his words. Marcus Vinetti fights tooth and nail not to be sent to the boondocks to recruit some hick. He's surprised when he meets his cowboy target who has muscle upon muscle and gorgeous green eyes. Although he's usually good at masking his deviant desires, Tyler brings all his needs and wants to the surface. Will Tyler be able to change his long-standing playboy ways, and will Marcus finally accept that he's in love with another man? Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Western/Cowboys Length: 36,061 words

LOVING TYLER Coming Out 3

Winona Wilder

EVERLASTING CLASSIC MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

LOVING TYLER Copyright © 2011 by Winona Wilder E-book ISBN: 1-61034-943-1 First E-book Publication: October 2011 Cover design by Les Byerley All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Loving Tyler by Winona Wilder from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Winona Wilder’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Wilder’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To all the lovers who are completely different from each other. Yes, sometimes opposites really do attract.

LOVING TYLER Coming Out 3 WINONA WILDER Copyright © 2011

Chapter One “Another lonely night?” Tyler tossed his leather bag over his shoulder before lugging his Western saddle against his side. “Fuck you, Randy.” The old-timer only mocked him, but he wasn’t in the mood. Jet had left town with his new boy toy, not even giving Tyler the time of day. What more did he expect? If he didn’t give a piece of himself, he wouldn’t get much in return. “Ah, don’t be snippy, boy. Head on over to the Red Rooster. I’m sure you’ll pick up a cute young thing.” Tyler scowled, ignoring the old man. The Mapleton rodeo was wrapping up, which meant it was time for him to move on. He’d miss his friends and their families which had settled around the periphery of the rodeo grounds in various tents and trailers. But stability to a cowboy traveling the circuit was like oil and water. They just didn’t work together. He planned to pack up and hit the open road, to find the next paying event, and to drown his misery in mind-numbing alcohol as soon as he stopped for the night. He hoisted his saddle up and dropped it into the bed of his pickup truck with a clatter of metal and leather. His spurs rang as he did a perimeter check of his vehicle. Ever since his tires were slashed two

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years ago, he made safety a priority. It was bad enough he had no set address, but even on the road he had to watch his back. He supposed he’d never know what a life of comfort and security felt like. Tyler cranked his radio and shifted until he was comfortable in his seat, and then he put the truck into gear. The long, straight highways cutting through the prairies could drive a man mad with boredom when he didn’t have a travel companion. Tyler rarely took a passenger, so that must be a declaration to his sanity. There had been a few good men during his travels. He’d hooked up with Jet on more than one occasion, but those instances were just sex—but weren’t they all. Tyler didn’t do relationships. He preferred to live a fast life, allowing each day to carry him along with little thought. The rodeo was his perfect outlet. Just hold on, focus on your balance, and let loose. Every time he got in the ring, he was transported to another realm, a place far from reality where he found peace for eight seconds. He needed the rush, needed it like a drug. As he drove along, he shuffled through his papers, looking for the location of his next event. He was heading to Yorkville for one of the larger rodeos of the season. A lot rode on an event of this magnitude. He could earn enough to pay his way in gas, motels, and food for nearly a year if he placed well. Since he never took sponsors, not liking the responsibility, he was on his own, relying only on his Godgiven ability in the ring. His cell phone rang. Tyler dug in his breast pocket for the gadget while driving with one hand. The stretch of highway was mostly deserted, no one foolish enough to venture so far out into nowhere. “Yeah.” “Mr. Tyler James?” “That’s me. The one and only.” He tucked the phone under his chin to reach for the radio, flicking on his favorite station. The familiar country and western twang filled the truck cab, giving him a sense of peace. He’d need it for the long drive ahead of him.

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“I’ve talked with you before about a sponsorship. I thought maybe there was a miscommunication because I didn’t hear back from any of my messages.” “I ain’t interested in any sponsorship.” “I think you should at least consider my offer, Mr. James. We represent a very prestigious company. Ever hear of Cavendish Tack and Saddles?” Of course he had. They were just the biggest name, known by every man who called himself a cowboy. He still wasn’t interested. There was no way he’d be some poster boy for a brand name. He was a free agent, riding the circuit for not only the love of it, but because it gave him freedom. A sponsorship equaled responsibility and commitment. “Why would you be interested in me anyway? I don’t exactly represent a wholesome image. I’ve seen your advertisements with the husband, wife, and two-point-five children in their Sunday finest. Find someone else.” Tyler clicked his phone shut. The guy on the other line would probably see it as rude, but he had no one to impress. Tyler dug in his back pocket and pulled out his smokes. He lit up and took a heavy drag. The smoke escaped through the open window. This was the life—the open road, nothing but prairie for as far as the eye could see. Out here he had no one to impress. He didn’t have to fit society’s mold. Another hour of driving and he pulled into Yorkville. Cars and trucks were parked all the way out at the town limits, along the sides of the road. Rodeos always drew in a crowd, especially the larger, televised events. He drove down the road at a snail’s pace, being cautious of the children playing. Riders’ families and spectators from out of town were setting up tents and barbeques. Some larger trailers lined the outlying fields. It would be a madhouse trying to get to the registration desk to pick up his cards. He double-parked next to a horse trailer he recognized. They wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon with things just starting. Tyler moved his saddle from the truck bed to the passenger seat and

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locked the doors. Wherever a crowd gathered, theft ran rampant, and the boogeyman often came out to play. It was the reason he kept a Colt under the driver’s seat of his truck ever since he started traveling on his own. He’d never be anyone’s victim again. He tossed his leather saddlebag over his shoulder before beginning the long walk up the road to the arena. The sun was high, but the large oaks lining the streets provided shelter from the heat. “Tyler!” Men waved and called out his name as he walked along. Other drifters traveling with the circuit were kind of like family. He’d made some good friends over the years, but at the end of the day they went home to their real families and Tyler was back on road. He was okay with it, but he just made sure never to get too close to anyone. It would save everyone disappointment in the end. He dipped his Stetson to the people who recognized him. The grounds were bustling, and a crowd was gathered around the registration desk. He could barely hear himself think. Tyler didn’t have the patience to wait at the end of the line and shouldn’t have to with his well-earned reputation. He threaded through the men to the table at the front and leaned over. “Tyler James.” Bobby looked up from the ledger he was busily scratching in. He instantly recognized him. “Tyler! You want your usual number?” “Lucky 444, as always.” The older man reached under the table where he’d stashed the number just for Tyler. He leaned over and slapped it on Tyler’s chest. “First event’s in four hours.” Then he went back to serving the other men before there was a mutiny. Four hours to burn. After today’s event, he’d have to find lodgings. Hotels would probably be full. He never thought ahead to book himself a room, just went day to day. If he ran across one of his old flames, maybe they’d share a room and have a little fun to boot. So far, he hadn’t noticed anyone of interest. He leaned over the split rail fence, watching some of the staff warm up the horses in one of the holding paddocks. The big black

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stallion was exceptionally feisty. He’d probably send some men to the local hospital before the week was through. Tyler just wanted the chance to tame the beast, to prove to himself he had what it took. “Mr. Tyler James?” Tyler turned his head to see who addressed him. The guy was tall, with dark hair and sinfully black eyes. He turned full around and leaned both elbows back on the fence as he appreciated the man in front of him. “That’s me. Who’s looking?” The stranger didn’t fit the surroundings. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, his short hair softly gelled back. “My name’s Marcus Vinetti. I was sent by Cavendish Tack and Saddles to talk to you about a proposition.” His shoulders slumped. The Italian stallion was only after him for business, a vulture to fresh meat. He instantly lost all interest in the man and returned his attention to the horses. “Sorry, already told them I’m not interested.” “Could I at least speak to you over lunch or dinner? I won’t take much of your time, and there’s no obligation.” Tyler released an irritated breath. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to get a free meal. The man was nice to look at, so it wouldn’t be all bad. All he had to do was refuse the offer at the end of dinner, and he’d be on his way. **** Marcus had fought his boss tooth and nail not to be assigned this account. He rarely left his office in the city and now had to travel way out to the boondocks to entice some hick to let them represent him. He had to fight for parking, deal with unsupervised children running wild, and inhale the stench of manure, and get his suit dusty from just standing on the rodeo grounds. He wasn’t happy…until he saw his target.

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Tyler James had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen on a man. The sun reflected off the golden flecks, and the moss-green color stood out against his tanned skin. His hair was a tousled chestnut brown. Marcus could see what his boss wanted in this young stud. He’d look amazing on billboards and posters riding on one of the Cavendish saddles. His track record of recent wins in the ring made him even more appealing to the company, and the fact he hadn’t been scooped up by the competition had been a miracle. “No promises?” “Absolutely not.” At least if he got him alone, he could work his marketing magic and try to convince the cowboy to sign on with Cavendish. If he managed to land this account, he’d be looking at a five-figure bonus. He was already close to making partner in the rapidly growing firm. Tyler ran his hand through his hair. He’d been holding a Stetson in his hand and put it on his head when he pushed off from the fence. “Good. Now do me a favor and save the business talk until dinner. I have an event in a few hours, and I don’t want my mind turning to mush.” “No problem.” He walked alongside the cowboy, trying to keep professional and not blow this chance. “So, you came all the way up here from the city to speak with me? Seems a little risky to make such a long trip when I made it clear I don’t do sponsors.” “We like to think positive. Besides, I’ve never been to a rodeo, so the trip won’t be a complete waste. Might be interesting.” Tyler stopped and turned to face him. “Never been to a rodeo? Good Lord, where have you been all your life?” He reached out and pinched the lapel of his jacket. “This won’t do at all. Didn’t you bring any real clothes with you?” “Real clothes?” He briefly scanned the grounds. It seemed casual wear—blue jeans and wifebeaters—were the norm. “No, I hadn’t expected to stay long.”

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Tyler cocked his head. “Just thought I’d up and jump at the chance to be sponsored? You may be cute, but I’m not a complete sucker.” Cute? It was an odd way for a man to talk to another man. It was probably the way country folk talked, but it still made him stop in his tracks. Tyler continued on a few strides before he realized Marcus was no longer beside him. Tyler turned back. “You comin’?” “Um, yeah. Sure.” Marcus continued to walk alongside the other man, taking in the sights around him. Bales of hay were used as temporary road blocks and also used by spectators as additional seating. The sounds of animals, children, and an assortment of practice bells sounded around them. This was so different than the urban jungle he was used to. “So what do you do here?” “Just about everything. I’m starting out light, doing some barrel racing. The next couple days I’ll be riding the horses and I have one event with the bulls. Not too crazy about them.” Tyler chuckled and nudged him with an elbow. “Where’d I be without my looks, eh? You wouldn’t want to sponsor a cowboy with a wrecked face.” “Right.” His palm against the handle of his briefcase grew slick from perspiration. He was completely out of his element, and the rising heat was becoming unbearable in his heavy layers of Armani. As much as he’d love to see Tyler in action, he wanted to get into some air-conditioning and relax with a cold drink. He was still wound up from the long trip and had a dozen cell phone calls he had to make to various clients. They reached one of several practice rings. Tyler didn’t waste time in leaping over the low fence. He walked through the hay-littered centre of the ring with a confident stride. His shoulders were impossibly broad and held back proudly. Marcus sighed as his deviant nature surfaced. How could he not notice the cowboy had a nice, hard ass? But he wasn’t supposed to

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think such things. He came from a big, religious Catholic family and such thoughts would never be condoned or forgiven. A million Hail Marys wouldn’t even touch the sins locked up in his head. It was the main reason he stifled all his urges, but not the only reason. Cavendish Tack and Saddles would not keep him around if they knew he had the potential to mar their wholesome image. Partnership was just within his reach, so he wouldn’t blow his chance because he was sexually confused. Recruiting fresh blood wasn’t what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. The constant traveling threw his internal clock completely out of whack. He liked a solid routine, predicable income, and the cleanliness of the office. Driving at all hours, eating at questionable establishments and sleeping at even more dubious motels was grinding at his nerves. He was counting on getting this big account so he’d move up a peg at work. He watched as Tyler made small talk with the hired hands and examined the horses. Marcus pulled a folded cloth napkin from his pocket and mopped his brow. He looked up at the sky, not a cloud to be seen in the great blue expanse. Fucking great. Tyler returned to the fence, a smile still on his face from the bantering he’d been having with the other men. “I have a few hours until my barrel race. You wanna do this now instead of waiting for dinner? That way you can be on your way before dark.” Marcus got the feeling he had his work cut out for him. He needed to sign this cowboy or there would be hell to pay when he returned to the city. New, fresh talent was what they’d been discussing all month in their board meetings. Tyler James was the perfect candidate. It baffled him why he’d turn down easy money. “Whatever you want.” “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” Tyler winked. Just the way he looked at him made his groin stir. Was he purposely flirting with him? No, he was just overly tired and obscenely attracted to the other man. His mind was playing tricks on him.

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They walked along the side of the road, dust billowing up with each step. He worried about his black suit getting grimy. Everyone stared in their direction, but Marcus stood out like a square peg in a round hole in his attire. Tyler was laid-back, calling out greetings, smiling, and rubbing the heads of little kids as they passed. “Do you live in this town?” “Me? No.” “You seem to know everyone here.” Marcus tugged at his collar and could have sworn steam escaped. “It’s a rodeo town. We all meet up before and after events.” “Interesting. So the same riders travel from town to town?” Marcus enjoyed learning about new people and cultures, and this lifestyle was completely new to him. He’d never quite found a place where he fit in, even his life back home. He imagined it was because half his life was a lie as he lived to please everyone but himself. “Something like that.” Tyler turned to face him, his eyes hypnotic. “Some people call me a drifter because I don’t have a place of my own. Can’t really settle down when you’re constantly traveling from one point to the next.” Marcus wouldn’t be able to handle such instability. He even had his clothes planned out for the week in advance. His condo was neat as a pin, and every detail of his life could be found in his day planner. “So, where will you stay tonight?” Tyler grinned, appearing amused by Marcus’s concern. “Don’t even know yet, darlin’. Suppose if I can’t find a room to rent, I’ll crash in my truck.” Marcus didn’t know what to say. Cowboys called everyone darlin’, didn’t they? Including other men? He was flabbergasted that a person could live this way and there was a town of like-minded men willingly experiencing the same thing. He knew the cowboy did well for himself with his rodeo earnings or Cavendish wouldn’t have been interested in him. How could anyone choose this?

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Still, he wouldn’t dare say something stupid and insult the man he needed to impress. He had to remind himself he was here for business only. “No family?” “No family.” Marcus kept his mouth shut before he put his foot in it. He couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be alone in the world. He had so many brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins that he was never truly on his own. There was always someone stopping by or calling, whether it was welcomed or not. Sometimes he wished he could cut the ties to his relatives and know what it felt like to truly be himself—no expectations, no putting on a mask, and no suffocation. They reached their destination after a brief walk. The diner was a fifties-styles train car set up just down the main street. A classic greasy spoon, if ever he saw one. Marcus kept a strict diet that didn’t include garbage like an abundance of carbs, fat, sugar, and other empty calories. He went to the gym four times a week on his way home from work, and added matcha to nearly everything he ate. Health was important to him, but he wasn’t such a stickler that he’d embarrass Tyler by refusing to eat. Surely they’d have something light on the menu. “Tyler James!” Several patrons in the diner called out when they entered. Little bells chimed on the glass when the door shut behind them, making Marcus briefly whirl around. “Where’s Jet at? Ain’t seen him around lately.” Tyler frowned, his jovial nature fading quickly. “I’m not his keeper. You’re asking the wrong man, Carl.” He laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder and guided him to a booth at the end of the aisle. “I think we should take a booth, especially if you want to give me your whole spiel about sponsorship without getting interrupted.” They sat across from each other, sunlight dancing on the cracked linoleum surface of the table. He couldn’t possibly sit for an hour in his tailored jacket. Even though unprofessional, he leaned forward

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and shrugged out of the material and carefully laid it beside him, folded over once so it wouldn’t wrinkle. When he shifted to give Tyler his attention, the other man was already staring at him as if Marcus was an oddity he’d never come across. “I thought maybe it was your jacket, but you have some nice, broad shoulders on you.” “Me? Thank you, I guess.” He forced himself to smooth out the wrinkle in his brow. The cowboy continually confused him, but again, he knew nothing of this subculture of country folk. “Do you work out?” Tyler reached across the table, beckoning for his hand. He reached out, uncertain what the man wanted from him. Would he fail this test, if it even was a test? Were his hands too soft, too smooth from working behind a computer most of the day? He imagined Tyler’s were firm and calloused from gripping handfuls of leather reins during his events. The thought of the cowboy touching him with those rough hands got his heart beating double time. “I try to take care of my body.” Tyler used both his hands to massage one of Marcus’s, twisting it this way and that, examining his fingers and palm. Then his hands went higher, testing the muscles in his forearm. Could he feel the tension in his body? Marcus felt more coiled than a spring, uncertain to what he should be feeling about another man. “I can imagine what you look like under that fancy shirt. You probably have toned pecs and ripped abs, don’t you?” “Flavor of the week, Tyler?” A middle-aged blonde woman broke the spell, saving him from answering. She had a conspiratorial smirk as she plucked a pen from behind her ear and poised it above a small pad. “Dara, don’t start with me, woman. Give me my usual.” Tyler pulled away, his light-hearted voice becoming perturbed. He turned to Marcus, the anger quickly dissipating. “What do you want, sweet thing?”

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He swallowed hard, feeling aghast and flattered all at once. “Um…Do you have salad?” “Salad? Are you a cow? Give him what I’m having, Dara, and give us some damn privacy.” “Whatever you say, Berton Wells.” She laughed as she sashayed back to the kitchen. Tyler was shaking his head when he returned his attention to Marcus. “Don’t mind her. She’s out to destroy me.” He chuckled and began fiddling with the sugar packets on the table. “Who’s Berton Wells?” “It’s just a stupid nickname they gave me a couple years ago, and it stuck.” He scrubbed his stubbled jaw. “It was the name of one of the most famous stud horses in these parts. You get the idea…” “Oh, I see, you’re a hit with the ladies, are you?” Why did it make him feel jealous and defensive? He should be used to being a minority, desiring men who obviously were only into women. But the little hints and names of endearment made Marcus feel special. Tyler looked at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “I guess Cavendish didn’t do their research before sending you all the way down here. I’m sure they wouldn’t want my sexual preference in the headlines.” “What do you mean?” “Darlin’, I like men, only men. I thought everyone knew it. Lord knows I’ve never tried to hide the fact.” The waitress came back with two large Cokes and set them on the table. Tyler pulled back and leaned against the vinyl bench seat. “I—” Tyler took a drink. Marcus was too in shock to look the other man in the eye. He only studied the ring of moisture left on the table from the glass as his mind processed information at an alarming rate. All the signs were there—the cute names, the touching. But he’d always associated gay men with the typical stereotype of annoying femininity, chicks with dicks as he commonly thought of them. It was

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just one of many reasons he refused to acknowledge the fact he wasn’t heterosexual. The cowboy sitting across from him, watching him with those deep green eyes, was everything a man should be—strong, confident and masculine. He was right about Cavendish. They’d never accept a gay man as their poster boy. It was the same reason Marcus kept his feelings of confusion to himself. He even dated women occasionally to appease his family and appear normal in the eyes of his peers, but those were brief encounters and never lasted. God knows he tried to like women, but he was just hardwired different than most. For years he tried to convince himself he was going through a phase, that he’d start desiring the opposite sex any time, but it never happened. The guilt ate him a bit each day until he made the decision to ignore his impulses and focus on work. Stifling his sexuality had him pent-up and irritable most days, but he expelled that energy at the gym and through frequent mediation. “Cat got your tongue?” He refocused on the here and now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Sorry for what? Do I look like I need pity?” A silence no graveyard had known lingered around their small booth. Marcus wanted to take back his words, not sure if he should apologize or hightail it and run. They were saved by the rattle of two heavy porcelain plates being unceremoniously dropped on their table. Marcus turned to the lady. “Thank you.” “No problem, handsome. You’re not from around here, are you?” She leaned on her hip, awaiting his response. “Leave him be, Dara. He’s with me.” Marcus’s eyes darted to Tyler. The cowboy gave him a discreet wink. “He’ll only break your heart, sweetheart.” The waitress waltzed off, stopping at the other booths to check on customers. “She thinks you’re gay.” Tyler laughed. “But don’t be offended. I only date the best.” He began to eat the French fries she’d left as if

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they hadn’t just had the oddest, most uncomfortable exchange of words. Should he eat the greasy garbage served to him or risk blurting out something inappropriate? Marcus popped an onion ring in his mouth.

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Chapter Two Tyler felt a bit sorry for the sucker sent to sign him up for a sponsorship. He never planned to join Cavendish, and now the man they’d sent knew they wouldn’t want him. The city slicker was tongue-tied, but Tyler wouldn’t sweat it. He’d take his free meal and be done with it. Why did all the hottest guys have to be straight? The look of shock on the city boy’s face proved he’d never walked off the beaten path in his life. If he had of showed any sign of interest, Tyler would have loved to rock his world. The silence during the following half hour was tense. It only made Tyler eager to get around friends who loved him, feel the thrill of riding in competition, and fuck the first man who offered him a room for the night. Fast living. It was what he needed, especially right now, faced with too much reality. “Well…thanks for lunch.” Tyler stood up, stretching his shoulders. “Guess you’re anxious to get back to civilization, so I’ll be going.” As soon as he burst out of the diner, he could breathe again. He looked up at the blue skies, inhaled deeply, and let the rest roll off his back. Marcus was gorgeous but no more than a figment of his imagination, here today, gone tomorrow. No sense replaying everything over in his head. The man was probably repulsed by him. He needed to get his shit together before the event. He walked back down the main street. It was true about time being the cure for all things. Every step he took made him less and less anxious. He had nothing to prove, so why should he feel guilty for who and what he was? Tyler supposed the recent events with Jet

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Cartwright had him off his best. If he wasn’t good enough for Jet to settle down with, why would anybody else ever want him for more than cheap thrills? It wasn't like Jet was his boyfriend, or they had anything serious going on. They had sex, hung out for a few beers after events, but that was the gist of it. It still cut him down a peg when he found out Jet had established a serious, loving relationship with a hot, young cowboy. What was wrong with Tyler? Jet had never even proposed anything serious between them, not that he would have agreed anyway. Fuck! His head was a mess. Tyler didn’t do vulnerable, and right now he was totally out of character. “Hey!” He turned around, almost having reached the rodeo grounds. Marcus was running up the street, briefcase in one hand, Tyler’s Stetson in the other. He looked like a fish out of water. “You forgot your hat!” “Thanks for that,” he said flatly. He ran a hand through his hair before fitting his hat into place. After a quick nod, he continued on his way. The sound of Marcus’s shoes on the gravel roadside kept pace with his own steps. “You following me?” “You said I could watch you compete. There’s no sense in rushing off right away. Like I told you, I’ve never seen a rodeo.” “Suit yourself,” he said without stopping. “If you were interested, I don’t have to tell Cavendish about…you know. I mean, if that’s the reason you’re not willing to accept the sponsorship, I’m sure we could work something out.” The man didn’t give up. Tyler wouldn’t be caught dead being represented a company only interested in an image that wasn’t the real him. He wasn’t one to conform to fit the expectations of others. It got the snot kicked out of him as a teen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Now he was a man, with the muscle to back himself up, and he dared anyone to challenge his choices. “I’m not a sell-out. Money isn’t the most important thing in life. That’s something you should try to remember if nothing else.” They

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reached the fence keeping out the spectators. “But then again you’re a businessman from the big smoke. You’re probably taught early on that money is greater than God.” Marcus’s features set hard. “Actually no. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge others. You know nothing about me as a person, only that I represent Cavendish. It doesn’t mean I agree with their ideals. I have a life beyond nine to five.” Tyler hadn’t expected him to talk back since he’d been quiet and accommodating until now. His passion amused Tyler. He backed the other man against the fence, eager to test his suspicions. Although Marcus was slightly taller than his six-foot-two frame, Tyler was thicker, more built. The city boy was all lean muscle, probably from working the gym, not hard work under the sun. “So you don’t have a problem with gay men?” He braced an arm on either side of him, caging him in. Tyler wanted to watch him squirm, for him to take back what he said and admit he was no better than the bigots at Cavendish. Or something else… Marcus swallowed hard, trying to lean away from him. “Of course not.” “Really? It doesn’t disgust you that I fuck other men?” The city boy kept silent, but held his gaze, which surprised him. Then Marcus shrugged, not giving him an answer one way or the other. The man was nice to look at, too nice. His soft waves of jet black hair, dark, narrow eyes, and thick, kissable lips were distracting. Tyler would love to spend the night exploring his body, teaching him every kind of erotic pleasure, but he wasn’t on the market. He never pushed his lifestyle on others—he didn’t have to. There weren’t too many nights he was forced to spend alone, although most of the cowboys he screwed around with lived two lives and demanded Tyler keep their sexuality a secret. “I don’t judge others.” “You’re a rarity then. Even I judge by appearances without realizing it.” He had to fight back the urge to fix a lock of Marcus’s

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hair, to run the backs of his fingers along his strong jaw. “Like when I first saw you. I only saw the suit.” “Fair enough. I suppose I expected an uneducated, middle-aged hick when I came out here.” Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “And what do you think now that you’ve met me?” He gripped the wooden fence harder, trying to will away the swelling below his belt. “My perception of cowboys has changed.” “In what way?” Lord he wanted Marcus to spill it out, to admit there was something between them more than just two potential business associates. He could sense something deeper, something sensual, but wasn’t going to be the first one to say something. “You take care of your body. You’re young. You’d look great on a billboard for Cavendish.” Marcus licked his lips. Was his breathing picking up? “So you only see the potential profits when you look at me?” “No. Maybe.” He shifted uneasily, pulling his briefcase higher as a partition between them. Tyler felt disappointment assail him. “It’s one thing if you wanted to use me for my body—that I can handle. But when you want to use me to increase your bottom line, I don’t want any part of it.” **** Marcus had to keep his briefcase in front of his crotch to disguise his hard-on. He knew he wasn’t normal since before puberty, but continually fought what he knew was the truth. Maybe one day he’d wake up normal and desire women, not men. No such luck. Tyler was playing a dangerous game. It seemed he was taunting him, pushing him to admit he was indeed gay. Part of him wanted to give in and admit he was desperately attracted to the cowboy, but the logical, more dominant part of his brain continued to live in denial. Once he admitted to being attracted to Tyler, it would be over. No

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more second-guessing himself because he’d be one-hundred percent gay, no going back. It would change his life, most likely in a very negative way. He’d played the scenario over and over in his head at night for years—he’d lose his job, alienate his family, be laughed at by friends, and grow old and lonely before he died and went to hell. Even with the gloom in his head, it was hard to keep holding back when those green eyes seemed to look into his soul. Even at twentyeight Marcus was a fucking virgin, which wasn’t much better than thinking he was homosexual. He’d kissed a couple girls, but never a man. Soft, fragile, feminine bodies did absolutely nothing for his libido. Taking in Tyler’s thick neck, broad shoulders, biceps bulging on either side of him, was too much to subject him to. His oversexed, tightly wound body was ready to explode. What would it feel like to touch a man, to touch Tyler? Knowing the cowboy was gay and sexually experienced made the situation more real, and made the possibilities harder to ignore. “I’m not trying to use you. If I don’t get my commission for this deal, I’ll handle it. It’s not every day a cowboy gets the chance to be represented by the country’s biggest saddle-maker. I’d hate for you to miss a good opportunity. “ “To wear a logo on my back? To smile pretty for the camera, maybe have a buckle bunny hanging off me?” He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back. “If you’re not interested, I’ll leave. But I came all this way. Can I at least watch you compete in one event? Or would I be a bad luck charm?” “It’s a public event, and you’re free to watch.” He reached out and snagged the length of his tie, tugging him forward. “Time will tell if you’re good or bad luck.” He nodded, his throat too clogged with desire to speak.

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“If you’re smart, you’ll get out of your fancy clothes before the crowd eats you alive. You stand out like a sore thumb, and these people don’t take kindly to strangers.” Marcus hadn’t packed a bag. He’d never expected to stay overnight. This was supposed to be a quick account—come flash some money and fame in front of a hick’s face and be done with it. The refusal was one shocker, but the worst was how much Marcus craved to let everything go for one night with the cowboy. Maybe after a little private experimentation in the boondocks he’d know which side of the tracks he was on. “This is all I have.” “Come on. I’ll let you use some of my duds. I still have a couple hours to kill,” said Tyler, tugging his tie until he followed behind him. He looked to the sides to see if anyone was watching. They were. The scene must look mildly erotic, in the least, affectionate. What had he gotten himself into? Thank God he was far from home and anyone who may recognize him. The familiar melody of an ice cream truck chimed as it came up the street in their direction. Children he hadn’t noticed previously seemed to come out of the woodwork, running for the box-style white truck. Cicadas droned to a near deafening pitch, reminding him just how overly heated he still was. “You like ice cream?” asked Tyler, a smile on his lips as he eyed the growing crowd of kids. “It’s fattening.” Tyler scoffed. “Like you need to lose weight. Come on, you need to live a little.” As they neared the truck, the idling engine nearly drowned out by the chatter of excited children, Tyler cleared a path. He scrubbed the heads of young boys and pulled the ponytails of little girls. They loved him, called him by name, and grabbed onto his clothes trying to climb him, fighting for attention. Marcus stood back at a safe distance, not willing to get sticky little fingers all over his good suit.

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“Little scoundrels! Let me get my ice cream, and maybe I’ll buy y’all a treat.” He ordered two vanilla ice cream cones and then gave the attendant behind the window several bills, telling him to pass out ice cream to the small group of children. Tyler passed him one of the cones, and they moved into a private area behind one of the out buildings, overlooking a holding paddock where the horses grazed peacefully. An oversized weeping willow danced magically in the slight breeze just behind the wooden fence. Marcus took a tentative taste of his ice cream. He hadn’t had such an indulgence since he was a child. When he shifted his gaze to Tyler, the other man was already staring at him. He’d been mindlessly licking his cone, not realizing the cowboy wasn’t doing the same. “You have some on your face,” Tyler nearly whispered. A gentle breeze fluttered the leaves in the big oak, which was providing them some welcome shade. They were in their own perfect bubble of time and space, but it was wrong to feel so, wasn’t it? Tyler used the pad of his thumb to clean a smear of ice cream from Marcus’s cheek. The touch was sensual, and he instinctively leaned into his hand. “It’s melting,” he said as the sticky substance rolled down his knuckles. Tyler didn’t hesitate in leaning down to lick the rim of the cone clean. Marcus was a self-confessed germaphobe, but there was nothing gross about Tyler’s tongue on his food. In fact, he could imagine his tongue doing the exact same thing to his cock, teasing his head, lapping at his release. When Tyler stood up, he was breathing heavily. He pressed his chest to Marcus’s, backing him up against the fence. “You should be more careful. It’s a scorcher out, and you’ll lose your treat.” Marcus averted his attention to the field behind Tyler, pretending to focus on something of great interest. If he didn’t, he’d give in to his deviant desires and end up doing something he’d regret. They walked to Tyler’s pickup truck parked on the outskirts of the city. By now Marcus was sweating profusely, almost faint from heat exhaustion. When he was young he’d suffered from asthma, but had outgrown the

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worst of it. The heat and humidity combined with his nerves were taking their toll on his lungs. He waited while Tyler rummaged through a duffel bag in the cab of his truck. He shoved the folded up wad of clothing into the saddle bag he carried over his shoulder and proceeded to lock the door. “Okay then. We’ll get a room so you can change.” When they made it to a less-than-stellar motel just off the main road, Tyler spoke to the attendant before they could welcome them. “I know you’re probably booked solid. I’m not asking for a room for the night, just for the hour. Can you do that for me?” “Mr. James, we still have two rooms vacant. They aren’t the best, but the price is right.” “You’re talking my language, son.” The young motel employee tossed Tyler a set of keys which he caught in a ready fist. Marcus wondered what “aren’t the best” implied, especially when the motel was in dire need of maintenance. He expected insects, bedbugs, stained toilets, and dirty linen. He internally cringed, wondering how anyone could actually stay the night in such a shithole. “You didn’t have to get a room just for me to change,” he said as he entered the door Tyler held open for him. The heavy curtains were pulled so the interior was dim. After the door thudded shut, strong hands were on his shoulders from behind, peeling his heavy suit jacket down his arms. A tingle of excitement ran up his spine. “I’ll need it tonight anyway. You’re welcome to bunk with me if you’re too beat for the drive home tonight. I’m never against sharing a room.” Tyler tossed his expensive jacket on the questionable bedspread. He eyed it for a moment, tempted to pick it up and set it somewhere else. “No, I couldn’t stay here.” “You’re probably used to the best, aren’t you? What do you find so unsavory about the place? It’s relatively clean for one of their bargain rooms.”

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Marcus loosened his tie, trying to think of something that wouldn’t be taken as an insult. He was beginning to feel like a jerk. “There’s no air-conditioning.” “Real men don’t need all those luxuries. Your body’s just spoiled. You’ll adapt to the elements after a while.” “Well, I don’t plan to stick around that long. Besides, it’s not just the discomfort. I have a hard time breathing when it’s this hot and humid. I’ve had trouble with my lungs since I was a kid.” He took a deep breath, feeling claustrophobic and not just from the heat. Tyler approached him, a sympathetic look on his face. He ran the pad of his thumb under Marcus’s lower lip, collecting the moisture. “You’re sweating something fierce. Didn’t know it was a medical thing, darlin’. Forget what I said about real men. There ain’t finer than you.” The cowboy didn’t pull away, rather began unbuttoning his starched shirt. He never protested, even though the act felt so intimate and crossed too many boundaries to fathom. “You’re about my size. I’m sure my clothes will fit just fine.” Tyler pushed the shirt over his shoulders. Sinfully slow. The way the man devoured him with his eyes made his dick jump to life. When his rough, cowboy hands followed the same path his eyes just traveled, he bolted back. “What are you doing?” And why the fuck did his touch feel so damned good? After the brief physical contact he wanted to give himself to Tyler completely. His mind was more a muddle than it had ever been. “You’re fucking perfect, Marcus. I knew you’d be even more appealing once I got your shirt off.” A raw hunger danced in Tyler’s eyes. But he didn’t really know this man at all. Did he bring men back to these cheap motel rooms in every town? Would Marcus be his rodeo bitch? He wanted to run away and hit the highway as much as he wanted to give in to the cowboy’s ministrations.

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Chapter Three Tyler never pushed himself on straight men. It wasn’t his style. Sure, there were many men on the circuit who were uncomfortable that he was openly gay, but most just accepted him. Marcus was clean-cut and professional. Tyler guessed it took a lot for him to lose his patience, a politically correct, customer service type. The people he knew would eat him alive, take advantage of his good nature. Normally Tyler would, too, but he wanted more than just a free meal or other perks. He wanted the man. He’d kept his distance until he began to sense more from the darkhaired angel. Either he was a closeted gay or curious. Either way, his hooded eyes and parted lips pulled Tyler in like an experienced wrangler to a new calf. Marcus probably had no idea how much Tyler held back. He continued to touch the other man since he hadn’t pushed him away. His body was hard, lean-muscled, and an exotic golden hue. When he reached the belt to his suit pants, Marcus gasped and gripped Tyler’s wrist in a tight fist. “I can get that,” he said, barely above a whisper. “It’ll be more fun if I help you.” Until the other man told him to fuck off, he wouldn’t back away. He wanted to feel Marcus’s cock, weigh his balls in his palm, and taste the flavor of his cum. More time than usual had passed since he’d hooked up with a lover, and his body was painfully pent-up. The fact that the man alone in his room was sexier than any he’d ever met didn’t help his frustrated predicament. It may not be the wisest decision to have sex right before an event, but he couldn’t turn back the sequence of events and didn’t want to.

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“But—” Marcus’s grip loosened, but he still held Tyler’s wrist in a loose hold. He continued to unbuckle and unzip the man’s pants until they fell heavily to his feet. The tight boxer briefs hugged his erection like a second skin. That big, beautiful cock was confirmation that he enjoyed Tyler’s touch, wanted this party to continue. Tyler tugged off his own shirt and tossed it. He took a deep cleansing breath when he refocused on the hard body in front of him. “Are you new at this?” “I’ve never been with a man. I’m not gay.” “Do you know what gay even means, darlin’?” Tyler placed Marcus’s palm on his chest. “It just means you’re interested in men. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or less of a human.” He could feel Marcus’s fingers tentatively test his muscled pec. It made his cock harden and pulse race. “Go on, touch me. Ain’t nothing wrong with taking what you want.” “It doesn’t feel right,” Marcus whispered. “I don’t believe you. I think you know it feels damn right, but you’re scared of doing what others judge as wrong. I know all about it.” Tyler decided to make a bold move, one which would stop everything in its tracks or bring it to the next level. He reached out, pulled the waistband of Marcus’s boxers down, and freed his cock. It was dark and ripe, pointing up like a virile arrow, slightly pulling to the left. Damn beautiful sight. Tyler grabbed the base of his dick, holding firm and gave it a few trial pumps. Marcus dug his fingers into Tyler’s muscles and groaned, a throaty sound of approval. He kept going, pumping his cock over and over. When he was sure the city boy was past the point of no return, he leaned over and kissed his neck, licking a trail up to his ear. “Oh, fuck,” Marcus muttered, his eyes closed and head lolling back on his shoulders. “That’s a boy. Now you get it, don’t you?” Tyler didn’t kiss him on the lips. He never kissed. Intimacy and sex were two different beasts, and he didn’t do intimacy. But he nipped along his jawline as

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he continued to stroke his erection. He could feel his girth thickening the longer he fucked him with his hand. “I’m going to hell.” “You’re going places, but hell ain’t one of them. I promise it’ll feel like heaven.” Tyler lowered to his knees in front of Marcus until his cock was bouncing in front of his face. He needed to suck more than breath. When he swallowed the swollen head, he exhaled from sheer ecstasy. Having the other man’s dick between his tongue and palate, so silky and hard at the same time, was truly heaven on earth. “Oh, my God…” Marcus grabbed a shoulder in each hand as he wobbled on his feet. Tyler could taste the tart pre-cum already, and he didn’t want the show to end before the main event. He sucked and licked the warm shaft in the way he knew would drive Marcus wild. Tyler was known for giving good head, and right now he was proud to give the city boy this level of raw pleasure. As he deep-throated the full length of hardened flesh, he reached around and cupped Marcus’s tight ass in his palms. He began to run his hands through Tyler’s hair, pulling a little too tight, but it hurt so fucking good. Tyler inched closer to the gold, caressing the tight, puckered asshole. Marcus shuddered and clamped down tight. He could just imagine how good he’d feel around his cock. Tyler pressed the pad of his finger at the man’s ass as he sucked his cock. Every few seconds he sank a bit deeper until the tip of his finger was just inside his entrance. “Fuck, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.” Tyler pulled away his hand and mouth. When he stood he was tempted to kiss the dark-eyed beauty, to feel his lips and tongue meshing with his own. “Not yet, sweet thing. I want to feel my dick in your pretty little ass.” “No. I can’t.”

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“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.” Tyler chuckled. Had he ever known a virgin? It seemed men on the circuit were born into sin. “I already told you I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. And I don’t think I can.” Tyler wasn’t turning back now. Not with his own dick painfully engorged. He unbuckled his pants as he backed Marcus against the wall. Once he had him pinned, he pulled out his cock. “Touch me.” Marcus licked his lips, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. His gaze dipped between them. “I’ve never touched a man.” “Surely you’ve touched yourself. Ain’t any different.” He moved slower than rising bread. When he finally caressed him, Tyler nearly lost all control. Many of his bedmates liked to play rough, play dirty, so going slow and tender was frustrating. “You’re big.” Marcus played with his cock, teasing without trying. Tyler kicked off his boots and pants, and spun Marcus around to face the wall, like a cop to a perpetrator. They were both naked, and his erection fit snugly between Marcus’s ass cheeks. He pressed forward to make certain he could feel the rigid line of his cock. “Tell me how that feels, baby doll.” He thrust up and down, dry humping his ass. “Good,” he whispered. “So good.” “Get on the bed, Marcus. Lie on your stomach.” As the other man complied, he searched his saddlebag for a tube of lube and condom. He was never without his essentials. He may play the field, but he wasn’t foolish enough to ride bareback with a stranger, even a virgin. He approached the bed. Marcus was on his stomach, propped up on his elbows. His back was toned to perfection, his ass firm, round globes. He added lube to his sheathed cock as he approached. Just the thought of sinking deep made him dizzy with desire. “The bedding doesn’t smell fresh,” said Marcus. “Don’t worry about the linens, darlin’. Worry about the nine inches about to fuck your ass.” He bent one knee up on the bed and positioned himself for entry. “Make sure you relax for me. No

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tightening up.” Tyler pressed the head of his cock at the tight rosette. He was tighter than a clenched fist. “Bad idea,” Marcus complained, attempting to turn around. Tyler held him in place with a hand to his back. “It’ll hurt.” “I know you’re scared. It’ll hurt for just for a sec, and then it’ll feel plenty good. I promise.” He forced an inch inside his tight ass. The man moaned when he breached his unforgiving anal ring. The worst was over. Any minute and Marcus would learn what he’d been missing all these years. Tyler would show him. **** Marcus had never been so aroused in all his life. As soon as Tyler touched his bare dick, he knew in an instant that he was one-hundred percent gay. He wanted more, he wanted it all. When he sucked him into his hot, wet mouth he knew he’d beg if the man stopped. It felt so good, so intense. Heat radiated through his body and his balls pulled up tight. Reality didn’t reemerge until Tyler mentioned taking a cock in his ass. He knew that was what men did, but it scared him. There would be no turning back if they had real sex. Once he allowed a man to take his virginity, to fuck his ass, it would be a mental confirmation of his sexual status. He didn’t want to lose his job or his family, but he also couldn’t pretend to be somebody else for the rest of his life. Marcus was so tired of playing a starring role that wasn’t his to play. It was time to come out, to take what he wanted, not what he knew others expected of him. He could feel the cowboy’s huge cock fighting for entrance. It was hard to relax and accept him as Tyler suggested. He was so tense, so nervous, so lost. That first thrust brought tears to his eyes both from the pain and the loss. But as Tyler slowly fed the full length of his rigid cock into his ass, it proceeded smoothly, only an uncomfortable pressure left. He could feel the partial weight of the

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cowboy drop over him, feel the heat from his skin against his back. Tyler planted kisses over his shoulder blades and neck. Never did he thrust or move, only throbbed inside him as he adjusted to the invasion. Marcus appreciated the kind gesture, considering they were strangers and didn’t owe each other a favor. Tyler whispered in his ear, “You did it.” In a way it was a hurdle in his life, something that had to happen and was long overdue. He could hear the genuine pride in Tyler’s voice, and it made him feel special, victorious. The cowboy began to move, the sensation of each thrust sent Marcus’s nerves into overdrive. Every sensation felt magnified and vibrant, pulling him deeper and deeper into an erotic web. His cock was pinned painfully against the mattress where he couldn’t reach. The mix of pleasure and pain twisted into a deep-seated longing for more of the same. “You okay?” Tyler asked. He nodded, too focused to speak. All he wanted was more friction, more new sensations from his cowboy lover. Then Tyler’s strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him to the edge of the bed. “Walk to the wall with my dick in your ass.” Tyler’s hard-on bent and tugged inside him as he moved. When he nearly reached the wall he stretched out his arms and braced himself, his upper body on an angle. “Give me more,” he begged. “Darlin’, use one hand for support and use the other to fuck yourself. We’re gonna come together.” Tyler was so raw, so untamed. Every word he said in that sexy Southern drawl sparked life into his long dormant body. He wrapped a fist around his girth and pumped, matching the rhythm Tyler kept in his ass. It was exquisite. The double stimulation had his eyes rolling back in his head. Streaks of light passed by his vision and he felt the pressure building and building in his balls. His pending release would rival all others by his hand. “Damn, you’re tight. You’re hugging my dick so tight I can’t hold off another second.” He growled behind him, a feral sound which

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only excited him. His cultivated, lackluster lifestyle in the city could never compare to this untamed abandon. “I’m gonna fill you with my seed, sweet thing.” “Do it!” He pumped his shaft three more times and he exploded. Marcus called out as a wide arch of white ejaculate sprayed the wall. Moments later, Tyler rammed him hard, growling his own release. They stayed frozen in time for a long moment before the cowboy gently slid out of his ass. Now what? Marcus felt a new vulnerability. Since he never did relationships, he’d never known heartbreak or the intense need now surfacing under his skin. Now he’d have to man up and watch his first lover walk out of his life.

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Chapter Four Tyler knew Marcus had watched him barrel race. He felt his stare as he prodded his horse around the sharp corners. The cheering crowd didn’t fill him with the same enthusiasm as it always had. Why couldn’t he focus? The city boy had transformed into a country and western cover model once he’d donned Tyler’s old jeans and T-shirt. He couldn’t stop envisioning him or remembering the hot sex. He’d actually taken the man’s virginity, forced him to accept his dormant sexuality. It felt like a heavy responsibility, and it ate away at him. Tyler always avoided commitment, which was the reason he refused to be sponsored by Cavendish or anyone else, company or individual. Fucking around, guilt-free one-night stands, and living large were his way of life. Now his world was tilting off its axis. He didn’t even wait for the winners to be announced before he leapt over the wooden fence. Fans and friends patted him on the back. The crowd was thick and the noise deafening. Tyler couldn’t find Marcus, not even where he’d spotted him in his peripheral vision during the event. Had he imagined him? He continued to search the grounds, weaving through the throngs of spectators, feeling desperation creep up his neck. “You see the man I was with earlier?” he asked one of the hired hands. “Nope.” He ran up the main road to the diner, bursting through the glass door, half out of breath. “Dara, you see the man I was with earlier?” “No, but I wish he’d pay me a visit.” She winked.

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He made haste getting out, ignoring the chorus of laughter. What was wrong with him? When had a quick fuck ever stayed in his thoughts? The closest he’d gotten to another man was Jet Cartwright, but even that was just a familiarity, not the longing he now felt as he searched for the city boy. After an extensive exploration, he gave up, leaning against one of the barns. He felt hot and clammy, but knew he had another round to get set up for. The Saddle Bronc competition would need his full concentration and strength, but his mind was elsewhere and his body weary from running around like a fool. All he could surmise was that he needed an agent to help him forget—alcohol. It was the substance he used to escape the past, and now he’d use it to escape the present. It pissed him off that he’d allowed emotion to creep into his being. Tyler had even been tempted to ask Marcus to stay the night with him, not to split the cost of the room, but because he wanted to make love to him—which was ridiculous. **** Marcus felt like a stupid, jilted teenager. It had been sex with a drifter, nothing more. If anything, he should have thanked Tyler for opening his eyes, helping him accept what he knew was there all along. Now it was time to face the music. As he’d watched Tyler ride his horse in competition—cowboy hat, leather chaps, number 444 pinned to his back—he knew one night would never be enough. He wanted it all, and knew he couldn’t have it with a wildcard like Tyler. It was time for him to suck it up like a man and return to the city. He got in his sedan, pumped the air-conditioning, and stared at the windshield for nearly twenty minutes. The shirt he wore smelled like Tyler, rich musk and the great outdoors. He had to return home to his empty condo, back to his fake life, the one he led to keep everyone else happy.

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There was a loud rap on the driver’s side window, pulling him from his reverie. When he turned to the side, an old man with a saltand-pepper beard and straw hat scowled through the glass barrier. Marcus used his control panel to lower the window a few inches, unsure what the uncouth-looking man wanted from him. “Can I help you?” “Marcus Vita-something, I take it?” He nodded. “Vinetti.” A few other men joined him from behind. “Then I suggest you get your butt back to the event because we ain’t letting you leave town until you do.” “You’ve got to be kidding me? I’ll inform you I do have a cell phone, and it will only take me one minute to call your local sheriff.” The old man laughed, along with his counterparts. “The sheriff’s looking for you, too. Tyler James refuses to ride his event until we all find you. I, for one, have a lot of money riding on that boy.” Tyler wanted him? Actually sent these crazed country folks out looking for him? He felt a rush of excitement swirl around inside him. He followed his escorts back to the rodeo grounds. “I’m not gay,” he said, unsure why he felt the need to blurt out the information to the group of men. A couple of them laughed, and then the old man said, “No man is before he spends a night with Tyler James. After that, not so sure.” Okay, he was gay and for some reason infatuated with a cowboy he had no business falling for. Like half the fucking town professed, Tyler was a playboy, ready to screw any man who showed him interest. Marcus didn’t want to be a number, a passing fancy at one of his stops. He wanted to be special, like he felt right now because Tyler had sent for him. How long would the fantasy last? “Look who we found trying to split town,” said his captor as they approached the abandoned side of an outbuilding. Marcus could hear the roar of the crowd around the corner. He felt inept as Tyler gave him the once-over. He was leaning against the building with one boot

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propped up, a cigarette between his fingers. When he gave a push off and moved towards Marcus, he also waved the other men away. “Tell them to give me ten and I’ll be there.” They scattered, leaving the two men alone in the secluded spot in an otherwise overrun town. “Leaving without saying good-bye?” “I thought it would be appropriate. I didn’t want to make a big fuss.” He coughed slightly from the smoke. Tyler flicked the cigarette butt away. “Sorry, darlin’. I know about your lungs. I’m gonna stop the filthy habit just for you.” “That’s a good idea. It’s bad for your health.” The cowboy smirked. “How about you stay and watch me one more time, no running off, then we’ll talk for a bit.” Marcus’s heart clenched. He couldn’t let the cowboy play with his emotions and expectations like this. He prided himself on being a modern, successful businessman. He was well respected, took care of his health, and had family that loved him. But here he was, ready to throw it all away from one more night with the drifter. Fuck, he was messed up bad. “Talk about what? How you’ll be moving on to the next rodeo town in a week, fucking the next clueless man who shows you attention?” Where did that come from? Marcus was not a jealous man, nor did he have a temper. Now he felt like a volcano ready to lose its top just thinking about Tyler moving on with his life without him. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” Tyler cupped his face, leaned in, and kissed him once on the lips. Those lips were perfect, firm yet soft, and just as precious on his lips as they were wrapped around his cock. “Don’t patronize me.” “Don’t use fancy words with me, darlin’. It makes my dick hard for you.” This was unhealthy. The strength of the lust he felt for this man was all encompassing, making him forget all his responsibilities back home. Nothing mattered about the here and now—about getting alone

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in that dank hotel room to experience more carnal pleasures. “I thought you had to ride soon?” “I do. But you have to promise to be waiting for me when I’m through. I just need eight seconds, and then I’m all yours.” For how long? Another night? A week maybe? Then what—a long distant relationship where Marcus drove himself nuts wondering what Tyler was up to? No, it would never work. “Fine. We’ll talk for a bit, and then I have to head out.” Would eight seconds be enough for him to gain his composure? To say goodbye to the man who took as well as gave him everything? **** Tyler excelled at his ride, wanting more than anything to make Marcus proud. Knowing he watched him ride that wild stallion gave him renewed strength and stamina to last past the bell. By the time they walked up the main street to the hotel, the sun was sinking on the horizon. The twilight hush and lack of tourists at this end of the street created an intimate atmosphere. The gravel beneath his boots crunched with each step. “So, what do you do besides work for Cavendish?” “Well, I hope to make partner soon, and then I’ll be set.” Marcus was moving up in the world and had a bright future. Tyler, with his lack of education, couldn’t help but think he’d drag the other man down. His intelligence turned him on, but also scared him. “I said besides work. What do you do for fun?” He shrugged. “Go to the gym?” “What about friends, family?” “I suppose I’m too busy at work to socialize as much as I’d like. My family can be overbearing, so I find myself trying to avoid them more often than not.” They reached the hotel, and Tyler unlocked the door. Just being back inside the room they’d recently had sex in made his body heat

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with need. But he wanted to do this right, to show Marcus that he liked him for more than the usual one-nighter. He wasn’t so sure what the fuck he wanted himself. Commitment freaked him out, but the thought of losing Marcus made him even crazier. “Family can be tricky. They know about you?” “No,” he snapped without thought. “I could never tell them. If I did, I’d be outcast. That’s just a fact.” “They don’t sound much different than my own folks. Sometimes you have to just do what’s best for you and cut the apron strings.” Marcus sat at the small, round dinette table, and Tyler sat across from him, holding out his hands. When Marcus placed his hands in his, he squeezed tight, hoping to convey what was in his heart without needing to speak. He was never good with words. In fact, he’d avoided any emotional declarations for most of his life. “What happened with your family?” The concern in Marcus’s voice was heavy. The poor boy was worrying himself sick in hopes of being accepted. Acceptance. It was one word that packed a punch greater than most. The entire human condition seemed rooted to this one word. “Long story. All I can tell you is you’re better off relying on yourself rather than hoping for validation that is unlikely to come.” Tyler had never told anyone the story of his own family. It was one of those dark, dirty things Tyler kept locked away in his brain until it was difficult to recall. Tyler had large blocks of his youth stripped from memory because of things he’d rather forget. “Thanks.” “For what?” “Being here when I needed you. Showing me another way.” Marcus took a breath and exhaled slowly. “You don’t even know me, but you’ve been a good friend.” Tyler cringed. A good friend? He bit his lip and kept silent. He’d grown good at masking his feelings over the years, to the point people

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saw him as a man-whore, a drifter that had nothing in his head but sex and a death wish. It was better that way. “Before you go, I’d love to leave you with a little something to remember me by.” He winked at the city boy, hoping to convey the full extent of his intentions. Marcus tilted his lips into a crooked half smile. “I think I owe you from this morning.” He rose from his seat, stretching out to his full height. Rather than walk to the bed, he bent down in front of Tyler, bracing his weight on his knees. He undid his belt. The whoosh of leather and clank of the buckle were the only sounds in the small room. Tyler leaned back, getting comfortable for what he knew was about to happen. His own darkhaired angel was going to suck him. “You ever done this before?” “I told you you’re my first. That goes for everything. I just hope I do this right for you.” He reached into his pants and freed his cock, which slapped tight up against his stomach. “You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes, darlin’. I just want to feel your sweet lips on my dick.” Marcus gave a tentative lick. “You taste good. Salty.” He should shower after the hard ride, but couldn’t stop now. “Then take more.” He closed his eyes as his lover closed his mouth around his cockhead. The heat and pressure were nearly enough to unravel him. When Marcus began to suck and pump the base with his fist, he groaned and reached for the sides of his face. “I bet you never came to Yorkville expecting to have a man’s dick in your mouth.” Marcus pulled off long enough to speak. “Don’t be nasty.” “You love my nasty.” Tyler guided Marcus deeper, attempting to teach him what he liked with gentle prodding and coaxing. When Marcus became lost to the act, the sound of wet flesh becoming louder and louder, Tyler reluctantly pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”

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“No, but you’re about to make me come in your mouth.” He nodded to the bed. He’d been thinking about this moment ever since he couldn’t find Marcus after his barrel race. For the first time in his life, Tyler would make love to a man, show him his feelings through sex because using words would be too much. Sex had always been a tool for him. He used it to get what he wanted or when he needed to be built up or brought down. Tonight he’d use it for what it was meant to be. He stripped off his clothes, eying the dark-eyed god on the bed in front of him. “I love your body,” said Marcus. His eyes roamed over his shoulders, chest, and down to his prominent erection. Tyler could feel his stare brand into his flesh. “Get your clothes off. All of them.” He stood at the end of the bed watching Marcus slip out of his clothing while he slowly stroked his cock. Soon he’d be in heaven, fucking Marcus’s tight ass. Once fully naked, Tyler took his time with Marcus. He ran a finger down the center of his chest, along the dark trail of hair leading to his bobbing cock, swaying freely in the air, hard and ripe. He never touched him where he needed him most. When he crawled over his prone body, Marcus stopped him with a hand to the chest. “What about the condom and lube?” “Not yet. I want to enjoy you tonight.” He kissed his neck, licking, sucking, tasting. Marcus closed his eyes, moaning soft, sensual sounds that made Tyler hungrier than ever. He wanted to own the city boy, keep him under his watch for the rest of his days. Imagining some asshole taking advantage of him, taking what was his, brought out his beast. “Do I get to fuck you?” “Maybe later. But not tonight.” Tyler ran his hand through Marcus’s dark hair, studying the sharp, chiseled Mediterranean features he adored. He hesitated at first, but knew he couldn’t hold back this time. Tyler braced his weight on his forearms and kissed Marcus on the lips. What started out as a light brush quickly morphed

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into a desperate passion. Their tongues battled as they savored and tasted each other. Tyler couldn’t get enough, needed so much more. Their naked bodies pressed together, their dicks battling as he slightly rose and lowered his frame. “Open your legs,” said Tyler between kisses. He nudged his legs open with his thigh and the other man was quick to wrap his legs around his body. Marcus caressed his back, testing his muscles and occasionally kneading his ass. Even without the sex, they were making love. People said a lot could be deciphered from a man’s kiss. The way Marcus kissed him back with such energy and desperation was a sign he had to feel even a fraction of what Tyler felt for him. He reached between them and squeezed Marcus’s cock until he groaned against his mouth. “Do whatever you want to me. Just do it.” “I plan to.” Tyler slid down his body, kissing the sweat-glistened flesh as he passed. He used the flat of his tongue to lick Marcus from root to tip, just the once, before slipping off the bed to retrieve his supplies. There were so many kinky things he’d love to show his lover, but tonight was for something deeper, something beyond just physical satisfaction. “I wanna fuck you, Tyler. Let me try.” Marcus sat up on his elbows, his beautiful, dark cock erect and waiting. “Not tonight. I have to have you. I’ll die if I don’t.” He lubed his condom-covered dick and returned to the bed. “I won’t leave you hanging, though, sweet thing.” Chest to chest, Marcus’s legs spread, Tyler wedged his way into the tight rear opening. It took a few tries, and once he breached his ass, Marcus cried out and pulled him closer. Linked together, face-to-face, they kissed. The urgency had lessened now that they were fucking in combination with the intimacy. Their kisses were softer, gentler, and with each pause they looked each other in the eyes, telling so many stories with just a look. Did he believe at love at first sight? He’d never been a romantic, but he supposed when two lonely souls found the right match, anything

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could happen. They were yin and yang on so many fronts, but he’d never wanted another man more. Although Tyler had never believed in commitments, imagining being with another man or life without Marcus burned a hole in his chest. This was it, the one thing he’d avoided like the plague—love. The next morning, before Marcus left for the city, Tyler watched him dress in his designer suit. He filled out his clothes in wicked ways. Tyler would certainly miss him when he left. “So, you’re coming to see me in Port Kent next week?” “I wouldn’t miss it.” Marcus straightened his tie in the mirror. “Good. You’re my good luck charm, darlin’. I need you there cheering me on.” He slipped off the bed, still naked, and wrapped his arms around Marcus’s waist from behind. The city boy was showered, his dark hair combed back, and he smelled great. Tyler couldn’t believe his good fortune to snag such a catch, but was it too good to be true? Would he return to his real life and forget his night with the drifter? New, uncomfortable insecurities battled within Tyler. He wanted to keep Marcus under his wing, but the man had his own life back in the city. Marcus took a deep breath and turned around, perching himself on the edge of the dresser. “Will you forget me once I’m gone?” An underlying fear rang in his voice. “Out of sight, out of mind?” “You’ll be all I think about. You just hurry up and get back to me.” He supposed they each had their own insecurities since the relationship was so new. But Tyler didn’t need more time to know what he wanted. He only doubted that a worthwhile man like Marcus could really love him.

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Chapter Five “He told you this?” “Yes, sir. He made it very clear, and I was sure you wouldn’t want him to represent Cavendish in light of the situation.” Marcus had been back home for nearly a week, but this was the first time he’d dealt with his boss about the Tyler James account. He’d hoped it would slip away, forgotten, but that was just wishful thinking. “Well, good call. You’re right, of course. We can’t have homos representing us. Do you realize how many solid accounts we’d lose? For three generations Cavendish has maintained a strong family image. The rodeo side is great for boosting sales, but we have to find the right candidates.” His boss dismissed him, conversation over. As soon as Marcus escaped the office, he sagged against the wall and took a deep breath. Not only had he dreaded the exchange that could possibly affect his career, but he couldn’t stand the thought of his boss looking down on Tyler. He was such a fucking sellout. All he’d thought about since coming home was Tyler. Tyler this, Tyler that, and of course one of his coworkers was named Tyler, so the name haunted him everywhere he went. Even though he’d left that night of lovemaking, he knew something monumental had occurred during that time. Marcus felt as if a rift had opened in Tyler. He saw more than the cowboy had offered initially, but he still wasn’t foolish enough to believe a man could change in less than twenty-four hours. Marcus shut down his computer and tidied his desk for the day. It was Friday night, so he’d hit the gym on his way home from work.

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Tyler would probably be on the road now, traveling to Port Kent for his next gig. He’d promised to stop by and watch him since it was closer to the city than Yorkville, but in his heart he knew he wouldn’t show up. He couldn’t keep showing up in Tyler’s life at different events for a quick encounter. The constant good-byes would destroy him. He parked his sedan on the side of the road, grabbed his gym bag, and locked up. It took all his energy to bring himself into the gym for his regular workout session. It would be so easy to just go home and feel sorry for himself, but he knew that self-destructive cycle wouldn’t do him any good. Life had to go on. As he wiped down the weight bench, he glanced around the gym. It was the usual crowd, but he saw everything from new eyes. As if he’d earned some supernatural power, he could practically pick out the gay men. Had Lenard always looked at him like that? It didn’t excite him, only made him turn in on himself. The only man he wanted looking at him with lust and desire was the cowboy who took his manhood. Even the fittest men that had caught his eye in the past, making him question his sexuality, couldn’t compare with the hard, goldenmuscled hunk with the fuck-me, green eyes. By the time he returned to his sterile, modern condo, he wanted to crash from physical and mental exhaustion. He may have complained about Tyler’s habits, the way he lived, or his cleanliness, but he realized now how trivial such things were. The room around him was neat as a pin, as he’d always kept his condo. Everything clean, in its assigned place, and sometimes coded by color or size. He really needed to get a life. Right now he’d trade the counterfeit perfection for the real, no illusions country lifestyle Tyler briefly exposed him to. Most of the people at the Yorkville rodeo knew Tyler was gay and accepted him, loved him even. He was a star and made no excuses for who he was or what he did with his life. What he ever wanted with a straitlaced suit, he’d never know.

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As he studied the stucco on the ceiling, wondering what step he should take next to give his life more meaning, more substance, his buzzer went off. He cursed and trudged to the door, not in the mood to see anyone. “Who is it?” he asked after holding down the intercom button. “Franco. Let me in.” His favorite cousin. Would he even want to know Marcus if he knew the truth? Nothing seemed to carry the same urgency, not when his heart was aching, not when he could still feel Tyler’s kiss on his lips. He hadn’t even called his family at home to let his parents know he was back from Yorkville. He just didn’t have the energy to face anyone just yet. “Where’ve you been? Dropped off the map?” Franco burst in, carrying a twelve case of Budweiser. He dropped the box on the counter and threw himself over Marcus’s custom leather sofa. “I’ve been working.” He pushed his cousin’s feet off the couch cushions. “You can call, you know.” “I did.” He sat on the matching chair across from the sofa. Marcus supposed the visit would be good to get his mind off things. “I just got home for the gym. How’re mom and dad?” “I saw them the other day. They invited us over for dinner. Everything was good.” “They say anything about me?” Franco laughed. “What do you think? The usual ‘When’s Marcus gonna get himself married and have children’ deal. I just go for the food. Personally, I could care less what you do with your life, cuz.” Franco rolled off the sofa and began to rummage through his cupboards and refrigerator behind the counter of his kitchenette. “I think they’re going to be sorely disappointed. I have no plans for a wife or children.”

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“Why would you? You have the perfect setup here. Great job, amazing place, you come and go as you please. I’d give anything to trade shoes with you.” Marcus may see his family as a thorn in his side half the time, but he cared about them. His cousin had so much potential, but seemed to be a write-off half the time, not focused enough in anything he did. “What about that girl up in Brantsworth? I thought things were heating up?” “No. Too far.” He shrugged, popping some of the washed grapes Marcus kept in the fridge into his mouth. “Didn’t really like her anyway.” “Look, I’d really like to hang out, but I’m in a devil of a mood. I had a miserable day at work, and I just need to unwind.” “I’m just here to watch the game on your big screen. It’s no big deal, just Tony and Mike are coming by. Don’t worry, they’re bringing pizza. We’ll be quiet as mice.” “Sure.” Marcus growled in irritation. His family did the same thing to him nearly every week, and he usually took it. If he was more of a man like Tyler, he’d tell his relatives to take a flying leap and give him some breathing room. He grabbed his wallet off the counter and pocketed his car keys. “Look, just don’t make a mess. I have a few things to do, but I’ll be back later.” “Thanks, cuz.” Franco was already back on the sofa, focused on the television, box of crackers in hand. Marco hated crumbs between his seat cushions. He shook his head, imagining that Tyler would do the very same thing. After the elevator ride downstairs, he hit the street. He just wanted to clear his head, get some fresh air, and not have to deal with a condo full of rowdy family members he hadn’t even invited over. Some days he felt if he disappeared nobody would notice. They’d only miss his reflection, the one that had a big screen, cool condo, and money to borrow. He only made it a few blocks when he halted to a dead stop.

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What the fuck was he doing? Running from what he wanted most? Tyler may not be able to change his wild ways, but Marcus had to at least try. The thought of settling down with anyone besides the rugged cowboy was indigestible. If anything, he needed closure. He’d left in a hurry, with emotions strong and unresolved. If Tyler told him their relationship was no more than a quick hoorah, he’d pick up the pieces and be able to move on. **** Why hadn’t he shown up? Tyler had given himself to Marcus, body and soul. The city boy had no idea just how difficult it was for him to make love to a man, to lower his guards, to care. But he did all for one man. When he’d left, he took a piece of Tyler’s heart, and the only hope he had was that Marcus would show up at Port Kent— which he didn’t. Was that the end of it? “James! You’re up!” His head was not focused on the competition. He climbed over the stall to the waiting horse, which was more agitated than the devil. The crowd roared, a constant drone in his head. He carefully wound the leather strapping around his right hand in preparation, taking deep breaths to try and concentrate. The gate burst open and bells sounded, and he was off. He kept his hand up, maintaining his balance on the notorious stallion. His peripheral vision continually played tricks on him, making him believe Marcus watched, but when he looked it was just another spectator. As soon as the bell sounded, he released and dropped, most of his weight landing on his side and shoulder. He knew what he had to do. He had to get to the nearest bar, and fast. Alcohol had been a friend for many years, but more recently he’d chosen to use sex as an escape. He couldn’t even think of another man now, so the bottle was his destination. He held his side as he walked, his ribs bruised and swollen. At least he’d made a good time in the ring. That was all that mattered, all

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he was good for. He imagined Marcus was back in his fancy condo with his educated, clean-cut friends. They probably had a good laugh or two remembering the washed-out cowboy with no residence but shithole motels. Tyler stumbled to the bar. “Set me up with three shots.” He nodded to the bottle of whiskey on the ledge behind the bartender. “You okay? You look hurt.” “Nothing time won’t heal. Too bad my heart ain’t as lucky.” Lucky placed the three shot glasses in a row and filled them up. He had a knowing smile on his face. “Love troubles, my friend?” “You have no idea.” “Didn’t you just have a spat with Jet Cartwright?” He cleaned his hands on his apron before cracking the top off a Bud for the guy down the bar. “That was nothin’. This is everything.” It was true. There had been no emotional connection between him and Jet. It was just fucking, and they both knew it. Marcus was so much more. He’d taken the man’s virginity, showed him things he never experienced, and opened himself up to new possibilities. Tyler was known as the joker, the playboy, the cowboy with death written on his forehead. But he wasn’t an empty shell. He just had a harder outer layer than most. A survival mechanism he learned to perfect over the years—until Marcus came along. “I don’t need to tell you there’re more fish in the sea, do I? You’re Tayler James. I know for a fact you’ll never have to worry about keeping your bed warm. You attract men and women like flies to shit.” “Thanks. But this time I’m not worried about keeping my bed warm.” He downed two of the shots then took a breath. “I thought this time might be something real. You know?” “You? Settling down? No, I could never see it. Some men are meant for the whole white picket fence, while others are meant to

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make married men jealous because they have it all—money, freedom, sex, popularity. That’s you, Tyler. Enjoy it while you’re young.” He choked back the last shot, not willing to hear anything else. The stereotype he’d developed for himself over the years wouldn’t let go without a fight. Nobody would be able to understand how, in the span of an eye blink, he’d trade his fast life for the simplicity of loving one soft-skinned city boy. “Do me a favor and pass me a bottle.” “You know I can’t do that.” The look of concern on Lucky’s face pissed him off. He didn’t want pity. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was when he didn’t give a shit. “Just give me the damn bottle. Remember? I’m Tyler-fuckingJames, so don’t question me.” He took the bottle handed to him. Lucky looked conflicted, but he didn’t care. He needed to lose himself, even if just for one night. Tyler occupied his small table in the dark corner of the bar, his Stetson tilted to hide his eyes, for hours. Then the relative hush shifted to chaos as the rodeo workers got off for the evening, rushing into the bar, hooting and hollering. Tyler’s mood was black, and he didn’t want company. With his bottle three quarters empty, he dared anyone to piss him off. Maybe a good fight would do him a world of good. The pain could take his focus off his aching heart. Two old friends pulled up chairs after getting their drinks. Another stood near his chair, leaning against the wall. “You killed it out there today. Can’t wait to see you on the bulls tomorrow.” Keep it together, Tyler. They’re just being friendly. The problem was, he knew at least one of the men had his eye on him for the last three days. The old Tyler would have already tapped that. He was cute, a boy-next-door type he wouldn’t say “no” to. But the new Tyler couldn’t stand the thought of anyone that wasn’t one-hundred percent identical to Marcus.

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Just thinking about him made him drift, a soft smile on his lips as the alcohol did its job, pulling him into impossible fantasies. He’d get drunk every night if Marcus starred in his dreams as a result. He hadn’t even felt the numerous hands on his body or voices in his ear when the distant words of an angel broke through his drunken stupor. “I should have known not to come back here!”

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Chapter Six Marcus had driven all night long to get to Port Kent before the rodeo closed up the next day. He prayed Tyler hadn’t already moved on because he had to see him. Good or bad, he needed closure. He parked his car close to the heart of the attraction, already noting the crowds were thin and many cowboys were packing up their trailers. Marcus locked his vehicle and asked everyone he met as he walked along the road if they’d seen Tyler James. After half a dozen requests, he finally got some useful information. “Check the town bar. That’s where you’ll find Tyler.” The older man said it so matter-of-factly, as if Tyler lived in a bar. His cowboy was better than that, or should be. Marcus adjusted his collar. He chose to wear a nice pair of pressed slacks and black polo shirt in exchange for his usual suit and tie. Tyler would appreciate the change, at least he hoped. He wasn’t at his best due to lack of sleep, and he hadn’t gotten his usual haircut. When he entered the bar in question, it was packed, and he had to shuffle his way to the back bar. “What can I get you?” “Nothing for me, thanks. I’m looking for a man.” “There’re plenty here.” “No, one particular cowboy. His name is Tyler James, shaggy brown hair, green eyes—” Before he could finish, the bartender pointed to the shadowed corner of the room behind him. There were several men around a small table. Was that Tyler? It looked like a fucking orgy. As he proceeded closer, he noticed they were touching. Strange men had their hands on Tyler, even attempting

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to unbutton his flannel shirt. He’d only been gone a week, and Tyler was already back to his playboy self, Marcus fully forgotten. Anger welled up inside him. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, as well as heartache, betrayal, and insecurity. He was an emotional basket case. After calling out his misgivings to Tyler, ready to make haste and get back home where he belonged, the cowboy made eye contact. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he stumbled, fell, and stumbled again as he tried to get closer to Marcus. The chair he’d been sitting on crashed to the floor, and he pushed the other roughnecks out of his way. “Wait. It’s not what you think…” Marcus wanted to tell Tyler he looked pathetic, had degraded himself once again when he was perfectly ready to love him for the rest of his life, but he kept silent and left. He was exhausted from the long drive and no sleep. The early morning sun burned his eyes as he walked away from the bar, eager to put distance between him and Tyler and whoever the fuck he was associating with. Marcus felt small and cheap and wanted to escape. To where he didn’t know because even home wasn’t home. “Wait!” Tyler stumbled after him, his boots shuffling along the gravel. “Stay away from me. Go back to your friends.” He kept walking, not turning back. “Marcus…Stop! Listen to me for a minute, goddammit!” This time he stopped, internally cringing thanks to his Catholic upbringing. He didn’t turn to face him, just stood to listen. “What?” “I’m a bit drunk. I was passing out. Alone. I have no clue where those guys came from, but they’re not with me.” Marcus whirled on him, his temperature through the roof. He’d traveled all the way out here—for what? To feel worse than he had pining for something that wasn’t even real? “First of all, you’re not a bit drunk. You’re literally fall-down drunk, and it’s disgusting.

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Second of all, your personal life isn’t really my business, is it? I’m just some lame-ass city boy who gave you a few hours of sex.” Tyler barreled forward, pinning his arms to his sides as he backed him up against a wooden lean-to. His strength, even when piss drunk, astounded Marcus. It also brought his strong attraction for the cowboy to the surface, despite his irritation. “Darlin’, don’t test me. I’ve been out of my mind crazy wondering why you never showed up as promised.” “I’m here.” “You said you were coming three days ago. I’ve been walking around like a zombie.” He loosened his grip on his biceps. “Today was the first day I turned to the bottle. How much heartache did you expect me to take? I’m only a man.” “Do you expect me to believe you weren’t fucking around in there? I’m not so naïve, Tyler. I know who you are.” “If you know who I am, why’d you come back at all?” He dropped his arms and stepped back, holding his gaze. Marcus wanted his hands back on him, even if it hurt. The sudden distance felt like an ocean between them when he was so emotionally fragile. “Because!” What should he say? The absurd truth that he actually thought he was in love? He drove straight through the night just to see him again? But love shouldn’t be one-sided, unconditional or irrevocable. Tyler couldn’t lie his way out of this one. Marcus had been out of sight, out of mind. “Because what?” He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of laughing him out of town. Marcus already looked like a fool, and he was an outsider on Tyler’s turf, a prude in a polo shirt. There was a gaggle of real men in the bar—strong, rough, dominant, and muscled to the teeth. Tyler belonged with one of them, and no doubt preferred them to Marcus. “I only came to give you another offer from Cavendish. It wasn’t my idea.”

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“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head in suspicion. “Okay. What’s the offer, sweetheart? I’m dying to hear it.” “It’s–It’s another sponsorship.” Tyler nodded and his narrowed eyes told Marcus he didn’t believe a word. “Another sponsorship?” “You know, you’re pretty coherent for a drunk guy.” He inched closer. “Cowboys can hold their liquor. I’m sure a cute thing like you is pure as snow, aren’t you? You’d get drunk from a thimbleful.” “Are you mocking me? Because I was a virgin?” “Whoa there.” Tyler caged him against the wooden plank wall, his large body leaning towards him. He smelled slightly of alcohol and burning wood—a comforting, rustic combination. “That’s just one of the things I love about you, darlin’. You’re mine. All mine.” “And who do you belong to, Tyler James? Any man who makes a half-assed offer? Or does he just have to have a big dick?” The cowboy laughed, a low rumbling sound that brought out his hackles. “That’s what led me to you, no?” Tyler reached low and cupped Marcus’s balls and cock, giving a slight squeeze. He couldn’t stop the drawn-out moan that escaped his lips. “Don’t…” He wanted to tell him never to stop, to strip him, fuck him, love him. But he had his pride and had to be cautious. All he really knew about Tyler were rumors, all of them bad. “Are you gonna tell me no, Marcus? I have a nice, clean room in this town. Got it with you in mind.” He wrapped his free hand around his waist, tugging him closer, his other hand still on his crotch. The sound of his voice made him harder than the wood he leaned against. He couldn’t say no, even if it tore him apart to lose him a second time. “I’ll come on one condition.” “Name it.” “It’s my turn to fuck you.”

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**** Tyler went weak in the knees when his little angel demanded the chance to fuck him. He wouldn’t deny him, not today. Marcus was well endowed, and he could imagine how snugly he’d fill his ass, igniting all his dormant nerves, lighting his body on fire with desire. “That’s a boy.” He leaned in close, whispering against the shell of his ear. “I’ll suck your dick first, until you beg me to stop. Then you’re gonna get double-fucked. I’ll lube up a nice fat dildo and fuck you with it. When you’re good and ripe, I’ll bend over and you can ram your beautiful cock into my ass.” “Holy shit.” Tyler laughed again, barely able to move without causing discomfort to himself. Not only were his ribs bruised, but his dick was painfully engorged. They didn’t waste time in moving to their new location in the motel down the street. It wasn’t a long walk, but still felt like miles when they were both desperate to be alone. But as soon as they entered the door, they didn’t crash onto the bed as he’d anticipated. There was an awkward divide between them, so many unspoken confessions and concerns. The silence had a life of its own. Tyler bent down to pick up the keys he’d dropped and winced when he stood up. “What’s the matter?” Marcus was next to him in a flash, smoothing his hands down his shoulders. “The bull had his way with me this morning.” He chuckled, but even the slight jostling made his ribs ache. “I really wish you wouldn’t ride the bulls. I don’t like any of this. It’s dangerous.” “If I had you to take care of me, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” The awkward tension shifted to an erotic longing. They looked each other in the eyes, not speaking, just wanting.

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When Tyler had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well as being older and more experienced. Marcus made Tyler feel like all male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for cleanliness. It was all endearing to Tyler. He wanted to claim the Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he discovered. “Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him, carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly. Tyler couldn’t help but run his hand through his shiny, black hair, savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked. “Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in his lover’s eyes. “Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace. “And city boys aren’t so gullible.” Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?” “Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.” Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming. “What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep off the alcohol.”

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“I can’t go to sleep.” “Why not?” “Because I’m scared you won’t be here when I wake up.”

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Chapter Seven Tyler slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest, the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with Tyler’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out, Tyler mentioned his clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within the hour by the looks of it. He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret choosing Tyler. “This your truck?” A gruff male voice came from behind him as he unlocked the driver’s side. He turned around. The man wore jean overalls, and he was slightly overweight. There was a negative air to him that brought out Marcus’s hackles. “Who’s asking?” “Looks like your tires were slashed.”

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He stepped back, forgetting the man, only concerned to see the tires for himself. At least one was indeed flat. Marcus whirled around. “You see who did this?” The stranger was already walking away, not bothering to turn or answer. Marcus stood in place for a minute, and then he decided to grab the duffel bag and get back to the room before Tyler woke up. He wondered if there was even a place in town where they could get new tires for the truck on short notice. Who would do such a thing? Everyone seemed to love Tyler everywhere he went. Marcus would expect something like this back in the city where senseless crime ran rampant, not in this quaint little town. He crept back in the room. The interior was dim with the heavy drapes pulled shut. Tyler shifted on the bed as Marcus clicked the lock into place and dropped the duffel bag on the ground with a thump. “Where’d you go, darlin’?” “Just got your bag. How you feeling?” “Hard. For you.” He patted the side of the bed. “I’ve rested as you demanded, sweet thing. You’re not going to prolong my punishment now, are you?” He joined Tyler near the bed, the world forgotten as he gazed into those luscious green eyes. “I wasn’t punishing you. I was looking out for you.” Marcus sat on the mattress and ran his hands over Tyler’s muscled sides. The bruises remained, but he didn’t flinch as much as he did yesterday. “I love the way you touch me,” the cowboy whispered. He tucked his arms behind his head and took a cleansing breath. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” His brown hair was tousled from sleep, his thicklashed eyes heavy. All he’d thought about the past week were his feelings for Tyler and the erotic peak the other man so easily brought him to. He pulled back the blankets slightly, exposing Tyler’s ripped abs and the thin trail of hair leading to the tent in the light covering. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

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He ran his fingers lightly up and down his torso until Tyler surprised him by grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. “No more teasing. Touch me. Really touch me.” Marcus was just as hard as Tyler. The promise from last night kept echoing in his head—he’d get his chance to fuck another man for the first time. He slipped the blanket off the hidden erection. Tyler groaned, returning his arm back under his head, his eyes drifting shut. He stroked the cowboy, savoring the silky skin as he pumped up and down, memorizing every vein and curve of Tyler’s cockhead. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week. I wanted to come, but I was scared. Scared you’d reject me.” “Never that.” Tyler sat up and pulled Marcus down against his chest. He was so strong, so alive. When his lips met his own it healed all the lonely hours of longing. Nothing mattered except the here and now. Tyler’s lips were thick and he kissed with enough skill to take his breath away. “Remember what you told me? Were you just playing…about the sex stuff?” Tyler smirked. “About getting double fucked? A dildo in your ass as you fuck me?” He knew his cheeks were turning red. Tyler’s unabashed way of speaking was so different from his politically correct coworkers or religious relatives, and it turned him on more than anything. “Yeah. That.” Marcus sat up and ripped his polo shirt from his body. “That’s my boy. You’re gorgeous.” Tyler reached for his shoulders, pulling himself up to a sit. The cowboy leaned down and sucked his nipples, making them pebble, and delicious heat radiated all the way down to his balls. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have one of them cowboys from yesterday?”

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“Darlin’, I already told you nothing happened.” He cupped Marcus’s face. “From that first day, I knew you were the one man who could make me change my wild ways.” God, Marcus didn’t realize how much he needed to be accepted, desired, wanted by another human being—unconditionally, irrevocably. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but he wouldn’t cry in front of the other man. Tyler was a hardcore cowboy and probably wouldn’t appreciate such an open display of emotion. He got a reprieve as Tyler reached the night table drawer, pulling out a small black velvet bag. “Open it.” Marcus pulled the drawstring open and peered inside. “You’re going to ruin me, Tyler James.” He shook the bag upside down on the mattress between them. A tube of lubricant and a thick silicone dildo toppled out. “We’re just getting started. Now lose the pants so we can have some real fun.” **** Tyler woke up in a panic. Just as he had nearly every morning since Marcus left the last town, but this time was much worse. The dream had been more real this time, making his heart ache for the other man. As he bolted up in bed, sweat-glistened, heart beating strong, he began to piece together the night before. Although well rested, the lingering, dull headache from too much alcohol clung to him. He remembered coming back to the room with Marcus, but maybe it was just a fantasy caused by his overindulgence. He dropped back on the bed, focusing on the narrow slits of light along the ceiling from the gaps in the heavy curtains. When the door began to open he immediately tensed, ready to reach under the bed for his Colt. But the silhouette was comfortingly familiar. It hadn’t been a dream. Marcus had come back.

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After their loving confessions, his little city boy followed his orders to lose his clothes. He was in for a surprise. Tyler had past experiences with some of the kinkiest men alive, including Jet Cartwright himself, and he’d learned a thing or two in the bedroom. Now he couldn’t even fathom a new conquest. All that mattered was teaching Marcus, loving him and giving him his all. “Do you remember how it felt when I took your virginity?” He brushed Marcus’s hair back—silky, black, and shiny. “It hurt, and then it felt like heaven.” “This’ll be much the same. Even if it feels weird, don’t tense up. I’ll ease it in, nice and slow, okay?” Marcus nodded, and Tyler guided him down to his side. His back was toned to perfection, a beautiful golden hue like the rest of his body. He lubed up the silicone phallus and spread the man’s ass cheeks apart to reveal the tight, puckered hole. So tight. He’d love the chance to fuck him today, but he’d promised his lover a chance at this new experience. Besides, Tyler knew in his heart that this act would solidify their relationship, make him Marcus’s as much as the other man was his. It was difficult breaching the tight anal ring. As much as he didn’t want to hurt Marcus, he knew from experience the pain would be brief. In time, he’d learn to love that initial stab of pain, the promise of pleasure to come. He let the fake cock dangle, just an inch inserted, until Marcus adjusted. While he waiting he showered his back with kisses, nipping his shoulder blades, his ear lobes, and stubbled jawline. Once Marcus began to moan, wiggling against the toy, Tyler continued to feed the cock into his ass. It glided in smoothly thanks to the lube and the man’s willingness to accept the length. “How does it feel, baby? Do you like your ass filled up?” “I prefer your cock, your heat.”

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“Later. You get something even better tonight. You’ve only lost half your virginity. Today will make things official.” Tyler rolled to his side. “Come on, let me feel you inside me.” The bed shifted as Marcus turned. He heard the spurt of lube as he prepared himself. Then his hand was over his hip as he positioned himself against Tyler’s ass. He felt the cool shock of the lubrication as he nudged his opening. It had been a long time since he had a man, but this would be like any other because, for the first time, real feelings were involved. “I might hurt you.” “Don’t worry about me, darlin’. This ain’t my first rodeo. I won’t complain if you ram me hard.” He meant it. Tyler found a perverse pleasure in the pain of hard sex and erotic punishment. Nothing he planned to subject his sweet boy to, but he was game. Marcus pushed himself into Tyler, entering him in a firm, consistent thrust. The city boy groaned and shuddered as he filled his ass. “Oh, God.” “Show me what you’re made of.” Tyler grabbed the headboard with one hand, bracing himself for a workout. Marcus didn’t fail him. The other man must have been as pent-up as him, thrusting and pistoning in and out of his ass like a machine. His body was lit up with sensation, his ass spasming, his cock thickening. Reality spiraled out of focus as his orgasm loomed just beneath the surface. He began to pump his cock to match the rhythm of Marcus’s big dick fucking him. The dual stimulation was too much. He wouldn’t last long. “Come on, sweetheart. Fill me up! I wanna feel your hot seed inside me.” As if following his command, Marcus gasped, his hand digging into his hip as he pumped this release into Tyler. His own cum sprayed the coverlet as he reached his peak, the sticky mess coating his knuckles. Marcus kissed his moist neck, not pulling out of him, just lying close without moving. “How’d I do for my first time?”

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“You’re a natural. But I hope we’ll have lots and lots of practice.” Tyler clenched around Marcus’s semi-flaccid cock, making him groan against his neck. They rolled apart, only to snuggle closer, face-to-face. He could never tire of looking into the Italian’s dark, exotic features. The man belonged on a magazine cover, and here he was, all his. “Where will you go from here?” asked Marcus. “Paying events are in Essa now. Drifters follow the money, so I guess that’s where I’m heading.” “What about me?” He could hear the caution and vulnerability in Marcus’s voice, and it made him want to hold onto the man and never let go. He kissed him on the lips, once, twice. “You go where I go.” Marcus sat up, breaking their intimate bubble. “Is it really that simple in your head? I just throw away my whole life and travel the rodeo circuit with you?” “I thought that’s what you had in mind when you came out here looking for me.” “I needed to see you, to get some closure. Tyler, I have a condo, a job, and family back in the city. I can’t just not go back—that’s not how real life works.” He hopped off the bed and tugged on his boxer briefs. “So what was I? A fantasy? A good, part-time fuck?” “No! You’re putting words in my mouth.” Marcus slipped the remainder of the dildo out of his ass and tossed it on the bed beside him. “Am I? You’re not coming with me, so I guess that means you’re heading home to your real life.” “What do you expect? I’ve known you a week. Am I supposed to throw away my whole life and take a risk on you?” Tyler cringed on the inside, but didn’t let it show. What else did he expect? Every man he’d shared a bed with only saw him as a bedmate, a man-whore with nothing of value besides a good romp in

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the hay. It never bothered him until now. Now it fucking hurt. He wanted to get down on one knee and beg Marcus to stay, to love him, but he wouldn’t. “Maybe I should just hop in my truck and hit the highway.” He pulled on his Wranglers. “I forgot to tell you. Your truck has at least one flat.” “What are you talking about?” “When I went to get your bag, there was this guy lurking around. He pointed out the flats.” Tyler’s heart clenched and throat tightened. “What did he look like?” “I don’t know. Big homely guy with overalls.” Tyler was scared to know the answer, but he had to ask. “Did he have a lazy eye?” “How’d you know?” Fuck! They’d found him again. It had been two years with no sign, but now they’d found him. They always found him.

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Chapter Eight There was an uncomfortable silence during breakfast at the diner. He was sure Tyler had been happy to see him, but maybe it was only the buzz from the alcohol. Ever since they had sex, his mood seemed to shift. Was it all about sex? Had he gotten his fill for the week? “I have to head back to the city to get things settled. But if you’re serious about starting something long-term, I’ll come back up and we can talk more seriously about it.” “No. You’re right, I barely know you. We should head our separate ways.” Marcus froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Permanently?” Surely Tyler hadn’t done a three-sixty in only an hour. He seemed genuinely interested in maintaining their relationship this morning, even getting hostile when Marcus suggested not following him to the next town. Maybe he’d hurt him. Maybe Tyler was putting up guards to keep from getting hurt. Marcus felt like an asshole. All he wanted was Tyler. He was just too damn scared to give up everything only to find out Tyler tired of him after a month together. He wanted to be sure their relationship was for real before committing himself body and soul. “We had good times, but it’d never work. City boy, country bumpkin. Personally, I think you could do much better than me.” Tyler never looked him in the eye, only making patterns in the eggs he’d barely touched. “Are you kidding me? I drove all the way down here because I thought we had something special. Was I wrong?” The foundation of his whole world was crumbling. His mind processed the past, present,

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and future at an alarming rate. If he returned home knowing Tyler only thought of him as another number, he’d be crushed. He’d have no hope, nothing to look forward to but his unfulfilling life. Was he too uptight? Not uninhibited enough for the more experienced cowboy? “I’m a drifter, Marcus. Certain people aren’t meant to change.” He stood up, his chair scraping along the tiles. “Bullshit!” It was so unlike him to make a scene, to raise his voice, to tread off the beaten path. Now all he could think about was the betrayal threatening to undo him. “Cavendish Tack and Saddles are probably wondering where their best recruiter is. Can’t say I was disappointed with the fringe benefits, but like I said, I’m not interested in a sponsorship.” Tyler took a drink of his Coke, effectively ignoring him. “You’re a bastard!” He tossed his napkin and stormed out of the diner. Tyler didn’t try to stop him, and he didn’t expect as much. He speed-walked up the side of the road towards his car, undiluted anger making the world blur out of focus. Marcus replayed all his times with Tyler over and over in his head—the kisses, the lovemaking, the endearing confessions. How could he be such a poor judge of character? The more distance he put between him and the diner, the more he felt the anger diminish and the despair and hurt take over. He felt small, cheap, and stupid, completely deceived by a cowboy and a world he barely knew. Marcus wasn’t Tyler’s anything, just another fuck for the record book. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture from his eyes and hit the gas, eager to put the miles between him and Tyler. **** Essa looked like every other town he’d passed through over his countless years on the circuit. It was the same meaningless sequence of events—new town, cheap motel, glory in the ring, meaningless sex.

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The routine was getting old. Ever since he’d found Marcus, he saw a new world of possibility. Life didn’t have to be black and white, but could be lived in full color. The Italian had brought out the best in Tyler, given him the precious gift of his body, and showed him a new reality. Breaking the other man’s heart, practically hearing it crack down the middle, had been the hardest thing Tyler ever had to do. As soon as Marcus told him about the lazy-eyed bastard that had slashed his tires, he knew it was one of his old foster brothers. It had been years since they’d bothered him, found him. Living in the foster home as a teen had been a sadistic entrapment that he’d only been able to escape when he’d turned legal age. It seemed most country folk back then only took kids in for the money, not for their love of children. His foster home hadn’t nurtured his differences, his unique sexuality, but tried to beat it out of him. When that didn’t work, they just beat him. Since his escape, he’d traveled the circuit on his own, making a name for himself. When news hit his abusers of his success, jealousy and hatred made the blood brothers blind with the need for retaliation. For what, he didn’t know. But he never could understand the mind of a bigot. He knew it would never end, the vicious attempts to ruin him. They focused their meaningless lives on making Tyler’s miserable. Like they’d said in the past, a faggot doesn’t deserve glory in the ring, and he was ruining the respectable tradition of the rodeo. There was no way he’d subject his sweet Marcus to their hatred. If they knew he loved the city boy, they’d no doubt focus their attention on him in hopes of hurting Tyler. He wouldn’t have it. It was better for him to lose Marcus, rather than risk getting him hurt. There was nowhere for him to escape, not with his fame on the circuit. It would be as easy as checking the public event list to know where he’d be next. He was good at keeping invisible, hiding in off-the-radar motels, and moving on as soon as he finished his last event.

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Marcus was innocent, tender. He’d never be able to deal with the kind of hatred his foster brothers were capable of dishing out. Tyler couldn’t watch over him every minute, and every minute away from him, he’d worry. And it wasn’t just the two brothers out for blood. They’d managed to recruit a group of extremists determined to keep gays out of the ring. If only they knew how many there really were, they’d give up their twisted crusade. “Tyler!” One of his ring buddies greeted him near the registration desk. It took a Herculean effort just to offer a barely there smile. “Braden. How’s the family?” “Just setting up tent for the night. You’re welcome to join us for dinner. We caught a good-sized deer just outside of town. It’ll be enough to feed an army.” His friend laughed and clapped him on the back. Normally Tyler would revel in his good-natured conversation, but not anymore. “With the number of kids you have, it should last you at least one meal.” “You’re right! Macy’s expecting again, wouldn’t you know it.” The redheaded man wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “She’ll be happy if you stopped by for a meal.” Tyler slipped out of his friendly hold. “I have a ton to do, but if I have a chance, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Thanks for the offer.” He roamed off the beaten path, not in the mood to small talk with the usual crowd. It was the same greetings, smiles, and gossip. By nightfall they’d return to their families or bunk buddies, Tyler forgotten. For a brief moment in time he belonged, had his own man to share his life with. But as soon as he had the world in his grasp, it was snatched from him. His foster family had stolen everything from him—his innocence, his self-respect, family, security, and now Marcus.

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Chapter Nine “Good work, Marcus. You’re definitely going places.” His supervisor scanned the files of the new account, a satisfied smirk on his face. Marcus had worked his ass off to get Calvin Brackworth to sign with Cavendish. He’d taken him out to dinner, given him frontrow seats at a home game, and offered him a competitive commission. He was no Tyler James, but he was a rising young star in the rodeo. The extra work over the past three weeks had helped Marcus live life without dwelling on his aching heart and the memories that were likely all counterfeit. “Do you still want me to attend the opening of the Smithfield Rodeo next week?” “With the Brackworth account in the bag, I definitely want you there, Vinetti. We’re doing a big promo push. I want our banners inside the ring where the cameras are aimed. Get some live interviews, endorsements from any of the big names.” “I’ll do my best.” Marcus drove home just after sunset, a light rain making the pavement ahead of him appear as a static haze. He hated nights like this, and there’d been many lately. These kinds of nights were made for lovers, for cuddling up on the sofa and watching a good movie. Since that wasn’t his destiny, he’d go home alone to an empty condo, order some takeout if he wanted to eat, and file through his memories as he stared into space. It was the reason he kept busy, and it was better than the quiet reflection that could destroy him easier than a rusty blade. What was Tyler doing now? Had he found another lover? Did he ever think of him?

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He wanted to search him out and beg for him to love him, but those were only moments of weakness. Marcus didn’t want a man who was with him for convenience, pity, or any superficial reason. He wanted love, the love he thought he experienced with Tyler. Their lovemaking had allowed him to transcend to another level of consciousness, but it was all a lie, a vicious lie. Fuck, he was a mess. Marcus unlocked his unit and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. He ignored the ringing phone, knowing it was one of his obnoxious relatives. After flicking on a couple lights, he pulled a travel bag down from the closet in his bedroom. He stuffed random clothes into the bag, not bothering to fold or organize them as was his habit. Nothing seemed to matter, and his anal ways now made him feel foolish, not refined as they once had. Would Tyler have wanted him if he was more casual, more nonchalant about the little things in life? He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off as he approached his dresser. His reflection stared back, a stranger mocking him. Tyler had consistently told him how attractive he was, but what good did that do him if he wasn’t good enough to keep? **** Tyler dusted off his chaps once he eased up from the dirt floor in the ring. The crowd roared when he waved his Stetson in the air. Another easy victory under his belt. He disguised his wince when he climbed over the fence. His ribs still ached on occasion, but complaints of the body never stopped a cowboy. He had something to prove, to himself and the bastards he knew were tracking his career. He growled under his breath. If it weren’t for his foster brothers he’d have Marcus with him right now. He’d be waiting for him, ready to tend to his wounds. There wasn’t anything he wanted to see more than Marcus’s smiling face. But it was only a memory that became a little

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more blurry each day that passed. He didn’t even have a picture to remember him by. As he trudged his way back to his motel room to change, he heard an all too familiar voice. Jet Cartwright, his old lover. He turned towards the voice and crossed his arms over his chest. “Still riding, I see.” Jet closed the distance between them, his young blond in tow. He couldn’t fault the older man for his choice. James Matthews was a regular piece of sunshine, thick-muscled with that boy-next-door charm. It still didn’t sit right with Tyler to be the unchosen one, forgotten and dismissed. “That’s what I do. I didn’t see you on the riding log.” “We’re ranchers now. James gets too nervous when I ride, so I’ve stopped altogether.” Jet turned and winked at the blond. “Ain’t that just dandy.” “I heard word of you spending some time with a new fella back in Essa.” Why did Jet have to sound so genuinely concerned? It brought his emotions to the surface and made him feel worse than shit when Jet stood there with his boy toy while he was alone. He’d told Jet things he’d never told another living soul, and he trusted him to keep those secrets, even now. But things weren’t the same as they’d once been. Jet was a family man now, and Tyler was heartbroken, more messed up than he had been to start with. “A passing fancy, is all.” “You wanna tell me something?” Jet was all dominance, hard to deny. He had a sixth sense about human nature, so lying was out of the question. “They’re back. Slashed my tires again.” He’d told the older man details about his past that made him cringe to this day. Jet was a good listener, didn’t judge, and the only other man on the circuit he knew of that was openly gay and proud of it. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this? You can’t keep hiding forever!” James held Jet’s arms when he started to throw them around

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in anger. Tyler continued to feel like an outsider and just wanted to get to his room. He dragged his hand through his hair, not comfortable even discussing the situation. “What would you do anyway, Jet? You know what kind of people they are. You gonna get yourself killed and leave your little sweetheart here all by his lonesome?” He shook his head, knowing the answer. “This have anything to do with the guy you were seeing?” “It always does. You know that. Love isn’t in the cards for me, not now, not ever.” He dipped his hat to James out of courtesy and began to walk backwards up the road. “Don’t be worrying about little ol’ me, Jet Cartwright. I’ve managed to survive this long…” He twisted to face the road, picking up his step. There was nothing to say that could change the situation, no matter how much he wished it. “Join us at the pub tonight!” Jet called from the distance. He only raised his arm to confirm he’d heard, no promises. The next morning, after a fitful night, he showered, shaved, and dressed for the big event. It would be a media circus today with the much anticipated bull riding events. Tyler rarely entered, but today he did. Why the fuck not? He donned his finer plaid shirt, knowing his fans would ask him to pose for photos. As much as he respected Jet and had no personal reservations about his beau, he hoped he didn’t run into them. He needed to be alone in order build up his barriers again, to kiss away everything Marcus brought to the surface. The first thing that caught his eye as he walked the perimeter of the main event ring was the oversized banners for Cavendish. His heart immediately clenched in his chest. Visions of Marcus had his pulse racing. But a banner meant nothing. Cavendish advertised at most medium- to large-size rodeos, so it didn’t mean the man he loved was somewhere just out of sight. Even if he was, nothing could come of it. He had to avoid Marcus for his own good. Tyler’s life was

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riddled with danger, and Marcus didn’t deserve to deal with his baggage. He didn’t have to ride for hours, but liked to size up his competition and check out the temperament of the animals before his turn. From his seat on one of the bleachers, his pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He’d quit the filthy habit for Marcus, but now needed any help he could get to help his frayed nerves. There was plenty of horse trading going on. Tyler only paid half his attention to the different groups of people around him, half in a daze. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, but ended up swatting away the fog when he swore he caught a glimpse of his angel. He sat straighter, focusing on the distant figures. His eyes hadn’t deceived him. Marcus Vinetti, in all his masculine, refined glory was standing just out of earshot. He was talking to Bryce Coldwater, one of his greatest threats in competition. Was he here to sign Bryce to Cavendish? Had Marcus fallen for another man so soon? Just seeing the two talking, laughing, only a foot separating them, made the stink of jealousy pierce his heart. He stood up a couple times, but sat himself back down. It wasn’t his business. He’d cut Marcus loose, so Tyler had no right to interfere in his life. Why was it so hard to look the other way? He didn’t know much about Bryce, but he already judged him to be his enemy. Tyler sized him up, knowing he could easily take him down in a fight, if it came to that. He took another drag, trying to calm the vicious desire swirling in his head. Marcus was his. “Bryce. Good ride earlier.” Tyler couldn’t resist. He came up behind the couple, keeping his best poker face in place. “Thanks.” Marcus turned, recognition blanching his features. “Tyler, what are you doing here?” “Looks like a rodeo, and I’m a cowboy.” He returned his attention to the other man. “So, you signing on with Cavendish?” “Thinking on it.”

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Why was Bryce acting so cool and collected? He leaned against the fence, hips thrust out to show off his buckle. Tyler gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Was he trying to impress a potential sponsor or Marcus, the man? Tyler nodded, not knowing what the fuck to say, but not willing to leave the men alone. He brought what was left of his forgotten cigarette to his lips. Marcus reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could inhale. “Smoking’s not good for you.” He did care. Tyler’s body slumped in relief, his previous tension pooling around his prized boots. “I tend to remember you mentioning that before.” He stomped out his cigarette. They stared at each other now, mirroring a similar longing. As much as he should push Marcus away, every cell in his body screamed for him to hold on, to never let him go. They’d find a way to make it work. They had to. Even if he had to go to Jet for advice or leave the rodeo altogether, it would be worth it to have Marcus back. Without him, he was just existing, as he had all his adult life. He’d never really live until they were together again. Really together as a committed couple. “We still talking business, Marcus?” Hearing his man’s first name on Bryce’s lips made him see red, especially when Tyler was vying for Marcus’s attention. “He’s done talking business,” said Tyler, still entranced by the dark-haired, Italian stud. Reality and fantasy momentarily blurred as he nearly lost his balance. Had Bryce really just shoved him? He laughed out loud. “Worried about your sponsorship?” His nonchalance appeared to piss the younger cowboy off. “Hell no! They’re looking for rising stars, not fags with a death wish.” Tyler did what he did best, reacted without thinking. He barreled forward into the other man and let the punches fly. They swung back and forth, muttering curses and trying to dole out the most damage.

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Marcus finally pulled him off Bryce, and he landed back on his ass, hyped up for more. The city boy’s strength surprised him, but then again, he’d seen his developed muscles up close and personal. “Enough!” “He’s trying to weasel in on my sponsorship. Cavendish sent you here to recruit me, not him.” Bryce stood up and tucked in the tails of his shirt. “Tyler already refused a sponsorship from us last month.” He ran a hand through that silky, black hair he adored. “Good. Then why don’t you fuck off.” Tyler lunged at the other man again, but Marcus intervened, holding him back with an outstretched arm. “Marcus, I need to talk to you in private. Just you and me, darlin’.” He didn’t care what Bryce thought. In fact, he wanted him to know they were an item, that Tyler had claim over the man. “Tyler, I have business…” “Business with me.” He deepened his tone, letting Marcus know he wasn’t playing games. This wasn’t just about getting him away from Bryce. He did need to talk with him, to confess his true feelings, explain why he pushed him away, and plan a future they could both live with.

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Chapter Ten Marcus always had Tyler in the back of his mind, but he never expected to find him way out here in Smithfield, especially when the events were centered around the bulls. Tyler promised never to ride the bulls again, and he didn’t like the thought of him risking his life. When he showed up, Marcus swore his heart stopped beating for a second. It was like seeing a ghost after grieving for his love for so many weeks. But Tyler had claimed to not want him, which was why he returned to the city with a cloud of despair hanging over his head. Now Tyler acted possessive, as if he wanted him for more than a casual affair. Although he stopped the fight soon after it started, he had to admit that it made his cock hard as granite. Watching Tyler fight for him, display such passion, proved he wasn’t as cold as he had portrayed. He allowed Tyler to lead him away, unwilling to witness another fight, and he desperately wanted to hear what the cowboy had to say. He prayed now, as he did every night, that Tyler would actually love him, that the man he fell in love with wasn’t just a mask. “Where we going?” he asked as they entered the dim interior of an aging barn. Sunlight beamed in through the many cracks, like lasers, highlighting the dust motes. It smelled rich of sweet hay. “I needed to find a little hideaway. My motel’s at the other side of town, and I couldn’t wait another second to get you alone.” “The air’s heavy in here. I doubt it’s good for my lungs.” He kicked at the hay littered on the concrete center of the barn. This barn hadn’t been maintained in ages.

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“That’s right. You’re delicate, aren’t you, sweet thing.” He cupped Marcus’s face and leaned in for a kiss. Marcus pulled back in a rush, straining his neck he moved so fast. As much as he wanted to succumb, he couldn’t forget the fact Tyler had pushed him away, made him feel smaller than an ant. “You told me you weren’t meant to change. You made me feel like a man whore.” Tyler shook his head. “Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean any of that.” “Then why? I thought everything was going so well between us, then the whole three-sixty. I don’t know what to believe.” He grabbed him by the belt, tugging him against his chest. “Believe that I love you,” Tyler whispered against his ear. Marcus closed his eyes and exhaled, savoring the words, wanting to believe them. “For how long this time? A day? A week? Until something better comes along?” “I know I hurt you, but I did it because I care, not because I don’t. My life ain’t peaches and cream. You deserve better.” “That should be my choice.” “You’re right. And I’ve been sick since you left. I want you to choose me, choose us. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. No cigarettes. No bulls. No lies.” He knew his voice would crack, but he spoke anyway. “Promise?” Tyler chuckled and dropped his face against the side of his neck. Marcus could hear him breathe in his scent, and feel the heat as he exhaled against his sensitive skin. “I missed your smell. It was on the shirt you wore for a couple days, but then it faded away.” “I’m here now.” If Tyler was playing with him, it would utterly destroy him, but he couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to resist. “All I’ve thought about is you. I’ve been like a zombie most days.” “I’m so sorry, baby. If it’s any consolation, I’ve felt worse than shit since you left. You give my life meaning.” He kissed his lips. Once. “I need you, Marcus Vinetti.”

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“You do realize we’re the worst possible match, don’t you?” “That’s why it’s gonna work.” He pressed Marcus’s hand against the front of his jeans. Tyler was hard, threatening to blow the zipper clean off his Wranglers. “What about my condo? My job at Cavendish?” He nipped Marcus’s jawline, sending an erotic current sizzling through his body. “Details.” Tyler continued his assault with his lips and now his hands. He unbuckled him without looking, and then began to tug up his shirt. “You sure you’re not just horny?” “I promise you I’m horny,” he said in that sexy Southern drawl. “You’ll find out soon enough. But that’s just one element. You’re mine, Marcus. I won’t leave you, I won’t share you, and I want you for more than sex.” **** Tyler continued to undress Marcus, needing to feel him skin to skin. It had been so long. Every minute felt like an hour, every day, a year, when they were apart. He wanted to indulge himself on his lover’s golden muscles, to give him enough pleasure he that he’d never want to return to the city. “How’re your ribs healing?” asked Marcus. “Don’t change the subject. All I care about right now is you.” Tyler felt the beast clawing inside him, urging him to let loose. Marcus was no delicate flower, but all hard, sinewy muscle. He’d be able to handle what Tyler dished out, no matter how rough. When he yanked off the other man’s shirt, revealed sculpted pecs and abs, he had to step back to get a full view. “You’ve been working out.” “It helped keep me from going nuts. All I’ve thought about is you.” His dark eyes looked haunted, and Tyler felt like an asshole from putting him through such turmoil. He should have been honest from the get-go and worked something out between them. Love at

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first sight couldn’t even begin to describe the full and utterly complete attraction Tyler had for Marcus, body and soul. He tentatively trailed his fingertips down his chest, watching his reaction. When his eyes lit up and lips parted, it was Tyler’s sign to continue. He walked Marcus backwards until the backs of his legs hit two stacked bales of hay. “Ever been fucked in a barn before, Marcus?” “You should know. I haven’t been with anyone else.” It wouldn’t matter one way or the other, but knowing Marcus hadn’t strayed when he returned home, as many jilted lovers did, pleased him. The city boy was all his, and he’d devote his every breath to keeping him safe, happy, and satisfied. “Saving yourself just for me, eh, darlin’?” He sucked on his shoulder, giving a slight nip. “Drop your pants. I’m going to give you a little head.” “Here? Anyone could just walk in.” All the bay doors of the century-old barn were open, a slight breeze wafting through. With all the traders and riders showing up early, it was very possible they could get an uninvited guest. “Drop ’em,” he demanded, licking his lips tauntingly. Marcus shimmied out of his pants until they pooled at his ankles. He looked side to side and slightly behind him to ensure they were alone before he released his cock from his boxer briefs. The man was a god and could have easily passed for a Calvin Klein model. Marcus leaned back against the hay, the soft shadows outlining every ridge of muscle, including the perfect V leading to his proud erection. Tyler stroked him, just his hand making contact. He enjoyed the divide between them, making the simple touch more erotic, and their public surroundings more taboo. Marcus groaned and muttered something incoherent, his eyes drifting open and closed. “Someone might see…” he whispered. Tyler bent down on one knee and lapped at the swollen mushroom head of Marcus’s cock. He gasped and braced his elbows back on the

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bale. “If they wanna watch, they’re welcome. But like I told you, I ain’t sharing.” It was funny how only a month ago Tyler was ready to share Jet with James and anyone else who wanted to play. Now he couldn’t even think of another man. He sucked his dick down his throat, using his tongue to tease the nub of skin at the base of his head with each upstroke. Every twitch and moan from Marcus spurred him on. He wanted to bring his lover to the pre-orgasmic realm before he flipped him over and fucked him hard. The sound of shuffling footsteps and voices echoed in the barn as they neared. Marcus bolted upright, but Tyler held his hips and continued to indulge on his ripe cock. He recognized the two distinct voices. They were drifters, both gay. He’d had a fling with the younger one, Josh, last year. If anyone knew Tyler’s illicit past, it was them, so they wouldn’t be surprised to find him sucking a man’s dick. “Tyler! They’re coming,” Marcus whispered harshly. The idea of getting caught, of other men witnessing their lovemaking, made the act that much more titillating. His own cock wept inside his jeans, rubbing mercilessly against the coarse denim. After one final lick, he stood tall, braced Marcus’s shoulders, and kissed him. Their mouths molded together, hot and demanding, but he felt the other man continually pull away. He was standing in the nude, his cock poking Tyler’s stomach, while he was fully dressed. The uninvited spectators drew near, almost at the opening of the side doors they’d entered. Tyler flipped Marcus around and used the flat of his hand against his back to hold him down against the prickly bale of hay. He almost chuckled, knowing his city boy would be worried about bugs and hay dust. Tyler unbuckled and released just his dick, and then used a dollop of his own saliva to coat Marcus’s pretty, little asshole. The slight touch made the other man jolt in awareness. “Tyler! Let me up, for God’s sake. People are coming!”

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Tyler positioned his dick and penetrated his tight ass, thrusting forward in a firm, smooth motion. He gasped and gripped fistfuls of hay as Tyler breached his unforgiving sphincter muscle. His body hugged his cock, so warm and snug, the perfect fit. He kissed his sexy Italian’s back, smoothed his hands up and down his arms, and admired his firm ass pressed tight to his groin. Before he’d given Marcus the time to fully adjust to his invasion, the men entered the barn. They stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Tyler with his cock in another man’s ass. No one said a word, and Tyler returned his attention to his man. After pulling out slightly, he worked back in until he established a steady rhythm. Marcus struggled beneath him when he noticed the two men watching their intimacy. He leaned over his back and whispered in his ear. “They’re just watching, sweet thing. You’re a beautiful sight.” His dick had never been harder. He gripped his hips and pummeled his ass. Tyler’s balls pulled up tight, his body coiling for release. Marcus stopped focusing on the public exhibition and accepted his cock, moaning and grinding back against him. “Tell me you’re mine, Marcus. Tell me for everyone to hear.” He punctuated each sentence with a hard thrust. “Yes!” “Yes, what?” Marcus’s back was sweat-glistened, the droplets from his own forehead dripping down onto his moist flesh. “I’m all yours. Only yours,” he muttered. A few more forceful thrusts and Tyler came, his orgasm nearly blinding him from the intensity. He growled and pumped his seed into Marcus, claiming him, marking him forever. He secured his cock in his jeans and sat down on the bale, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. “Roll over, darlin’.” Was he still being shy? Tyler didn’t think he’d reached his peak and wanted to ensure he received the same pleasure that he did. He had to nudge him to sit upright, and even then he tried to cup his solid erection with his

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hands. Marcus’s modesty was adorable, but Tyler didn’t want him to feel shame or insecurity—not anymore, not as long as they were together. After prying his hand away, Tyler began to pump the man’s cock. Their two-man audience had hungry looks in their eyes, one of them reaching in his own pants to play with himself. “Look at me, Marcus.” The other man sat a little straighter, and turned to look him in the eyes. “Do you like the way I’m touching you?” He nodded. “Come for me. Right here, right now. I wanna milk you until my hand is covered.” His words appeared to undo his lover. He closed his eyes, his mouth opening in a soundless cry as Tyler fucked him hard and fast with his hand. His release was punctuated with a loud exhale. He leaned over and kissed Tyler, probably needing the reassurance that this wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t. Marcus’s cum shot out in a wide, white arch, coating his hand and the hay between his legs. “Good boy.” Tyler kissed him back, ready to go again, but knowing it was time for them to leave. With their pent-up passion alleviated, they could talk with clear heads. Once decent, they made their way to the bay door. “You’re a lucky man, Tyler,” said one of the men from behind them. “I know it!” And he did.

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Chapter Eleven They’d stayed in Tyler’s hotel for two nights while he rode in the events he’d registered in. It had rained last night, heavy enough that the static hush on the roof had lulled Marcus to sleep. Now he awoke in Tyler’s strong arms. The cowboy was still asleep, his chest gently rising and falling. He snuggled in close, resting his head on his shoulder. It was a grey day, no sunshine trying to get in through the cracks in the curtains even though the digital clock put them at nine thirty in the morning. So many things had to be resolved in Marcus’s life if they were to have a life together, but he wasn’t sure how to handle things. He knew Tyler was still keeping secrets which created a rift between them. There had to be one-hundred percent trust for their love to grow. Marcus didn’t care about Tyler’s unsavory past or old bedmates, but he did demand they be open and honest with each other in the present. When he attempted to roll away, Tyler shifted and pulled him back against him, kissing his forehead. “You awake?” “For a while.” “I don’t ride today. We can do something together. Want me to show you the sights around town?” “Maybe we should just talk.” “Is this the talk where you tell me you have to get back to the city? Or the one where we ride off into the sunset together?” He chuckled. “I’ve never even ridden a horse.” “Good Lord, how is that possible? That’s what we can do today. I’ll teach you to ride.” “I don’t know…What about our talk?”

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Tyler’s hand warmed circles on his side. “We’ll borrow two geldings and ride out past the mustard fields you love. We can talk out there, just you and me.” They showered and dressed before heading out for the day. The overcast sky was ominous, warning of severe weather to come. Marcus didn’t think now was the best time to ride out into the fields, but he wouldn’t lose this chance for a one-on-one talk. “I remember Ben from last year. He’s a good-tempered horse for your first run.” Tyler ran his hand lovingly along the animal’s neck. “I’ll teach you how to saddle him.” His cowboy left the stall and came back with a heavy Western saddle, lugging it atop the saddle blanket he’d placed on the horse’s back. Tyler’s confidence and skill turned him on. Staying in the same place as Tyler was a major adjustment. He lived by the seat of his pants—no agendas, schedules, or organization whatsoever. It was good for Marcus because he was too uptight, too consumed by rules and order. Being with Tyler was like rest for his mind, peace he’d sought all his life. The only place he was fully accepted for who he was, no acts, no trying to impress. Tyler’s arms came out on either side of him, his chest against his back. “Pass me the cinch, the brown one there.” He proceeded to thread one fastening through another, twisting and knotting like he’d done it a thousand times, and he probably had. When Tyler pulled the slack tight, pressing his body tight against Marcus’s back, he wanted to say screw the trip so they could return to their room. He kissed the side of Marcus’s neck when he was finished. “Just watch your toes.” Then he backed the beast out of the stall and out to the paddock. He had a new respect for Tyler once he was up in the saddle. The skills he’d seen the cowboy display during events was unparalleled, even amongst the other riders he’d observed. “Careful there. You’ve got a lot of power between your legs.” Tyler winked and raced off through the open gate into the fields. He’d told him how to handle the horse, but he didn’t expect to start racing

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straight out of the gate. Marcus prodded the horse, and they began to walk. Then the pounding of hooves grew closer and Tyler reappeared, circling him and his horse. “You’ve gotta keep up, sweet thing.” He swatted the rump of his horse with the ends of his reins. Marcus had to grab the saddle horn to keep from flying off the back. They raced the fields, side by side. At first he’d been terrified, but the further they went, the more he began to enjoy the speed and the rush. Maybe country living wouldn’t be as bad as he imagined. Being at one with nature, living by his own rules—it was a tempting prospect. They settled into a trot as they neared their destination. The distant fields were a stunning yellow, almost unnatural in their brilliance. These were the kinds of miracles he never got the joy of experiencing at home in the concrete jungle. “Whoa…” Tyler pulled his horse to a stop and leapt down onto two booted feet. “This seems like a nice spot.” He brushed back his waves of brown hair from his face and reached up to help Marcus down. His eyes seemed to glow green as they reflected the bright white cloud cover. “So peaceful.” “I’m all yours until we head back into town.” He dropped down to his back and positioned his arms behind his head. “I’ll admit I’m a bit frightened about what you want to talk about.” “Why?” “I have a feeling you’re gonna try and convince me to move back to the city with you.” What he wanted to talk to Tyler about was the distance he kept between them, however subtle. The way he’d dismissed him originally, as if Marcus was disposable, was done for a reason. Had he been hurt in a past relationship? He wanted to assure Tyler he had no plans on hurting him, that he was in this for the long haul. His own parents had been married forever, and he had the same sense of commitment hardwired into him.

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They were about to take a huge leap forward, so he had to feel secure in his decision. To be certain Tyler wasn’t being fickle when it came to their relationship. “Not necessarily. The country’s kind of growing on me.” He sat down beside Tyler and hugged his knees. The air was sweet, the wind creating a wave through the distant barley fields. “So you’ll stay with me this time? I can’t imagine you traveling the circuit. Cheap motels, no air-conditioning, greasy spoons…you’ll be miserable.” “What are you saying? That’s it? We should go our separate ways before we even start?” Tyler tugged him over until he lost balance and fell to his back. “Look at the sky. Ain’t it beautiful? I used to search for shapes in the clouds when I was a kid. They’re never the same, constantly changing and drifting to new locations—” “Like you?” He turned to look at the cowboy. “I suppose. It’s not the life I want. I mean, doesn’t every man want it all? Love, sex, security, happiness?” “I’m offering you that. I’m giving you everything I am, but you need to do the same.” Tyler rolled to his side and kissed Marcus on the cheek. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” “It’s not enough. I want you.” He placed his hand on Tyler’s heart. “What’s in here.” Rather than follow him down the road of happily ever after, the cowboy abruptly got to his feet, dragging both hands through his hair. He looked rattled, ready to lose precious control. “It’s ugly in there, Marcus. Some things are better left alone. Darlin’, I’ve given up smoking, bulls, men, my whole life as I know it…ain’t that enough for you?” “No.” “What the fuck do you want? You ask for things I can’t possibly give you.”

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Marcus wasn’t going to bow out this time. He liked Tyler taking the lead in their relationship, craved it, but it was time to make a stand. Marcus rose to his feet and got nearly chest to chest with the other man. “You’re not the only one giving up things. I was about to make partner at Cavendish! Do you realize how much cash I’d have coming in if that happened? I have a luxury condo, half paid off. Back home I had order, routine, and security. What do I have now? Horseshit and bedbugs?” “You just told me you wanted me, were willing to give up everything. You sound pretty resentful for a man ready to turn his life around.” “I’m only resentful because I’m ready to give one-hundred percent, but you’re only offering seventy-five. Is that fair?” “Well maybe you’d be happier with your piles of money. For God’s sake, if you think money can buy love, more power to you!” He stormed off towards the horses. Marcus followed and spun him around by the shoulder. “I’m the one ready to give up the money—for you! Doesn’t that mean anything to you, Tyler James?” Marcus grabbed him by the shirt, shaking and tugging, desperate to get through to him. Fear of losing the best thing in his life, and an equal fear of settling down with an emotionally distant man, left him terrified and desperate. Tyler laughed with little true humor. “You trying to hurt me, city boy?” He even held out his arms to the side, offering himself as a punching bag, as if there was no way Marcus could hurt him. Without thinking, he pulled back his elbow and gave the cowboy one to remember right in the gut. He coughed and doubled over, grabbing his stomach. Marcus expected him to retaliate, knock him into next month. He feared what Tyler was capable of, being the stronger of the two. This time he laughed with full mirth. “You’ve got a good arm, darlin’.”

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“You aren’t going to hit me back?” Part of him wanted Tyler to fight him, to bring their anger to a pinnacle and see where it took them. “I’d never hurt you.” Tyler cupped his face and kissed him with more passion than he’d ever known. Marcus’s heart was still beating hard, his breathing ragged. With all the adrenaline spiking through his body, mixed with heightened emotion, he was completely susceptible to the erotic advance. **** His little angel had fire. And it turned him on. He’d always had issues distinguishing genuine emotion from sex, but in this case, he knew he loved Marcus. He couldn’t live without the city boy. “You’re adorable when you’re angry,” he said. Marcus smirked. “I’m supposed to be mad at you.” He leaned against him, seeking comfort and affection. For once in his life Tyler was eager to give it. He ran his hands through Marcus’s silky hair. “I want to be honest with you. I’m trying…but it’s not easy.” Marcus led him by the hand to their spot on the grass. Such a simple act of hand-holding was, in many ways, more powerful than sex. Tyler tugged off Marcus’s shirt, and then lay down on the soft ground. “What?” “Come straddle me. I wanna look at you when we talk.” He obliged him, lowering over Tyler’s middle, sitting partially on the erect cock straining in his jeans. “Okay, talk to me.” It was distracting watching Marcus, the sunlight making his golden skin shine, highlighting the lines of his muscled frame. This had to happen. He’d keep holding back to protect Marcus only to end up losing him again. “My childhood wasn’t a fairy tale. I accept that. But when I was fifteen I was sent to a new foster home…” He swallowed hard, squeezing Marcus’s thighs. Revealing

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these details of his life made him feel weak, less of a man. These were the demons in his closet, but they were also a real life nightmare. “They were homophobic. Beyond that. It was more like a raw hatred and they focused all that hate on me—the father and the two sons. Those boys did some wicked things to me, things that I don’t even want your sweet ears to hear.” “None of that’s your fault.” “Doesn’t matter. I took off as soon as I turned of age, but they’re determined to ruin me. Those white trash miscreants are jealous of my success. They don’t believe fags belong in the rodeo. The man you saw at my truck when my tires were slashed was one of my foster brothers.” Marcus’s face blanched. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was scared. Not for me, but for you. If they know how much I love you, I don’t doubt they’d hurt you just to bring me more pain.” “You should have told me. We’re a team, and we’ll get through this together. Have you told the police about them?” “This ain’t the city. There’s an unwritten rule on the prairies to take care of yourself, to handle your own business. Only lily-livered men would run to the cops. It’s the same reason I never did tears or told the authorities when I was a teen, under their rule. Cowboys aren’t supposed to cry. If anything, they made a man of me.” Marcus shook his head. “No, that’s not making you a man. That’s sick.” He tenderly rubbed his stomach. “Does it hurt?” “I’m fine. I welcome your punishment.” Tyler smiled. “I never want to hurt you. I want to help.” Marcus leaned over, pressing his body flat against his. He kissed his neck, sweet individual kisses. “There’s nothing you can do, sweet thing. Just let me take care of you.”

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Chapter Twelve “I feel like a fish out of water.” Tyler gazed out the passenger side window as they drove through the gridlock traffic. They’d gotten a lot accomplished in the two days since arriving in the city. After the Smithfield rodeo closed up, Marcus took Tyler with him to settle his affairs. His condo was now officially on the market for sale, not that he’d ever had a soft spot for the place. He’d also stopped in to Cavendish and talked with his boss about his future with the company. Although he half expected to lose his job, he was offered a position as a part-time recruiter. Since him and Tyler would be visiting different rodeos around the neighboring states, there would be plenty of opportunities for him to sign up new talent for Cavendish. There was one thing he did require—roots. He’d give up the notion if it meant losing Tyler, but he had the feeling the cowboy needed them just as much as him. Maybe more. Marcus wanted to be everything Tyler never had. He wanted to offer him unconditional love, acceptance, and understanding for as long as he had breath. “Where will go? The next event isn’t for two weeks.” “Wherever you want. You know I’m using to traveling.” Marcus merged into the left-hand lane. He wanted to stop by his cousin Franco’s apartment to leave him a set of keys for emergencies until his condo sold. “I’m not. Don’t you ever crave settling down in one place?” “Doesn’t make sense when you work the circuit.” “But you’re not single anymore, and not getting any younger. Besides, come November, you have no events until late spring.”

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Tyler kept quiet for the remainder of the drive. Marcus pulled into the visitor’s parking at Franco’s apartment complex and got out. “You want me to come up or wait here?” He leaned into the open driver’s side window and glared at his cowboy. “Of course I want you to come with me. I’m not ashamed of you.” Far from it. Tyler was God’s gift to men from his strong jaw and fuck-me eyes, to those broad shoulders and tailored waist. He could also rock denim like no other. Marcus was proud to have him as a significant other, even though he wasn’t quite ready to reveal his sexuality to his parents, and probably never would be. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe he could change the world just because he’d finally learned to accept himself. Tyler rolled out his big body as he stood, stretching out all those delicious muscles. Before they could walk to the entrance, Tyler held him back. Leaning against the car, he held him loosely on the hips. “About what you said earlier, I do want to settle down. I can just imagine having out own little piece of paradise. It’s just…complicated.” Marcus sighed, knowing just how complicated their lives would be, but still willing to risk it all for the love of Tyler. “We’ll talk about it tonight.” They took the elevator up to the twelfth floor. His heart began to pump harder the closer they got. He watched the floors light up on the control panel bringing them closer to their destination. Of all his relatives, Franco seemed the most likely to accept his alternative lifestyle. He wasn’t into the old ways of the Vinetti family but embraced modern conveniences and partied like the best of them. Although they’d been close growing up, they’d lost that connection over the years. Marcus blamed himself. He was so busy with his career and blinded by his introverted ways and secrets. Tyler was changing all that. “Where’ve you been? I’ve called your place a dozen times.” Franco filled the open doorway. “Who’s your friend?” He gave Tyler

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the once-over from top to bottom. The cowboy was nice to look at and an imposing sight. With cowboy hat and boots and that big silver buckle, he was the one who stood out now. “Long story.” He pushed past his cousin. “This is Tyler James. Tyler, this is Franco.” The place was a typical bachelor’s joint. Empty pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, beer bottles lined the coffee table in front of the television, and clothes hung on the backs of most chairs. Marcus shuddered. He’d love to have an hour alone to clean up the place. His cousin was at a precarious age, too old to live with his parents and too young to push him into marriage. It wasn’t healthy to live alone forever, and Marcus knew that all too well. Franco flopped onto the corner of the loveseat, while Tyler and Marcus sat across on the sofa. “What’s going on?” “My condo’s up for sale. I don’t have any plants or anything, but was hoping you could check on the place for me once in a while.” “Sure. But, selling? You getting married, cuz? You’ve been there for years.” He took a deep breath, unsure if he could go through with spilling the truth. Why was he ashamed when he had his dream man beside him? That was all that should matter at this point. Tyler’s deep Southern drawl surprised him. “We’re moving in together, just the two of us. Your cousin just can’t seem to get enough of me.” He winked at Franco. Marcus froze in horror and shock. “Yeah…right.” Franco narrowed his brow, unwilling to accept the truth, and no doubt thinking Tyler was fooling around. “Damn straight. He’s made an honest man of me.” Tyler was completely nonchalant, unnerved, continuing to take in the room curiously, not even aware of the thick tension in the air. God, he loved the man. Franco sat straighten, his carefree nature slipping away. “You mean? No way, you don’t mean…” Marcus nodded, unable to say the words. “I had no idea.”

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“You know my mom and dad. I’ve grown good at hiding things, but I’m not living in denial anymore.” He couldn’t garner his cousin’s reaction. Was he just in shock or disgusted? Would he never speak to him again once he left the apartment? “You still willing to watch my place?” Tyler interjected, once again. “Darlin’, why would he change his mind? You’re not asking him to suck your dick, just watch your condo for a spell.” He felt his face heating, flames licking up his collar. He’d grown used to his cowboy’s crude way of speaking. In the country, all the men spoke in the same way, no time to worry about being politically correct. He didn’t mind Tyler’s mannerisms. In fact, they endeared him to his cowboy, but people not used to it would probably be shocked to the core. Then Franco laughed, a deep belly laugh that filled the apartment. “If I were you, I’d have picked a man just like Tyler. Hey, you into sports?” “Bronc riding mostly. Marcus made me give up the bulls.” Tyler leaned over his knees, both men ignoring him, becoming interested in their small talk. “Sounds just like Marcus.” Franco laughed again, his stiff stature softening. “He’s always been an old stick in the mud.” Tyler squeezed his knee. “Not anymore. He’s becoming a regular drifter. No more folded napkins and antibacterial soap for him.” The two men continued to compare stories about Marcus, but he knew they both loved him, so it was easy to ignore—even though embarrassing at times. Marcus felt he’d crossed an ocean, an impossible hurdle. One of his dear family members now knew he was gay and apparently was okay with it, more than okay, even chumming up to his lover. An immense weight was lifted from his shoulders as they returned to the car hours later. The sun was lowering on the horizon, so they’d have to choose a hotel for the night. So many things were on the cusp of

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changing, all for the better, but right now they were in the center of chaos and confusion, which left Marcus uniquely vulnerable. He needed Tyler at his side more than ever. **** “Fancy.” Tyler looked around the room. This place was nothing like the shitholes he’d stayed at on many occasions. It was artistically decorated, neat, clean, and spacious. “At least we don’t have to worry about strange stains on the bedding or about someone crawling through the window to steal your boots.” Marcus collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tyler hated for him to have so much stress and worry. It wasn’t natural, and certainly not the cowboy way. Nobody lived a day longer by worrying about things. In fact, it could age a man before his time. He sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off his boots, and tossed his hat on the nightside table. “You wanna talk?” Marcus shook his head. “I know you better than that. You love talkin’. Tell me why the corners of your eyes are all crinkled up. Are you regretting something?” “Just worried. There’s so much to plan, so much to think about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “You’re gonna worry yourself sick. There’s nothing to plan. Your condo will sell when it sells. Until then we live day to day and enjoy life. Once it sells, we’ll find a nice little place, pool our money, and put down a nice, fat down payment. Now, let me do the worrying. It doesn’t sit well with you.” He blew out a breath. “I wish I could think like you.” Tyler had had enough of Marcus and the black cloud he allowed to hover over him. In Tyler’s mind, this was the best time of his life, full of possibilities. He’d found a man he loved and had taken the leap to commit. Marcus’s forearm lay across his eyes, his legs below the

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knee dangling off the edge of the bed. Tyler stood up and grabbed the man’s belt in his fist, giving him a jerk. “What’re you doing?” He raised his head, looking sinfully sexy with his dark features and curious scowl. Tyler unclasped his belt and peeled back the flaps of his pants. “Taking away your stress.” He freed his semi-flaccid cock, which was already firming up just from the slight touch. Marcus didn’t refute him, just dropped his head back on the mattress. As soon as Tyler sucked him into his mouth, he groaned and muttered, “I love it when you suck my dick.” “And I love your dick any way I can get it.” He proceeded to indulge on Marcus’s now stiff erection, licking, teasing, and sucking. His flesh was warm and silky. Tyler loved cock, loved Marcus. The way the city boy lost himself, forgot his stress so he could focus on the pleasure, made Tyler want to go down on him every day. Maybe he would. “Oh, yeah.” Marcus groaned and reached for Tyler’s shoulders. He grabbed handfuls of his shirt, directing him to give more, which he delivered. Tyler hollowed his cheeks and sucked him hard and deep, working up to a frantic rhythm. Any minute and Marcus would detonate, and this time he wanted it to happen in his mouth. This wasn’t just about sex. It was about helping Marcus find some temporary peace. As he began to come, he tried to pull free, but Tyler pinned his wrists as his side and swallowed every drop of his ejaculate. Marcus writhed, struggled, and moaned until his prolonged release finally eased and his body went pliant. Tyler crawled up on the bed over his body. “Did that help?” “I think I should worry in front of you more often.” He glanced up through hooded eyes. “Let me do something for you.” Tyler shook his head and dropped down beside him. “Take a rest. When you wake up we’ll order some room service. I can’t wait to see what this upscale place has to offer.” He gave Marcus a kiss and went

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to hit the shower. Tyler could get used to this kind of living. Now he just had to teach his boyfriend to follow the direction of the stream rather than trying to dam it.

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Chapter Thirteen Marcus shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He’d been sitting under the sheltered bleacher-style seats, but now that Tyler was in the ring, he wanted a good view. And did he ever look magnificent with his leather chaps and cowboy hat. The crowd cheered as soon as the announcer said his name. His boyfriend was becoming a legend, and he bet Cavendish was kicking its ass for not signing him, gay or not. Times were changing, and Marcus was quickly learning that change was good. Not everything could be programmed into a BlackBerry scheduler. Sometimes a man had to go where life took him, not knowing where he’d sleep the next night. As long as he had Tyler, everything else would fall into place. “Eight seconds,” said a voice from behind him. “That’s all it takes to make or break a cowboy.” He turned to find that same lazy-eyed man from months ago, the one Tyler said was his abusive foster brother. Marcus alternated from watching Tyler in the ring to keeping tabs on the creep behind him. “Tyler will always be a winner,” he said proudly, daring the man to contradict him. This loser was the one giving his true love nightmares. The reason he’d almost broken up their relationship over? When he turned back after checking on Tyler when the buzzer sounded, the man was gone, disappeared into the crowd of spectators. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Should he tell Tyler about this? He didn’t want to worry him for nothing. Marcus couldn’t imagine that trailer park reject making any real trouble for them. They recently signed the mortgage papers for their new home. The closing date was in just three weeks. They were both so excited and

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eager to settle into a regular routine mixed with spontaneity. The two men complemented each other perfectly, bringing out the best in one another. “You see me?” Tyler was out of breath, removing the wound up protective fabric from around his gloves. The crowd parted for them as they made their way away from the ring. Fans patted him on the back and praised him. Tyler was forever gracious, even when exhausted, smiling and shaking hands. “You looked great out there.” He tried not to let any concern slip into his tone and ruin his shining moment. Even as they walked side by side he continually replayed the strange man’s words over and over in his head. Were they meant to threaten Tyler? He could only imagine what those heathens did to his sweet cowboy. They were staying at another one-star hotel, but in these small rodeo towns there was often little selection. It was better than sleeping in the car or truck, as Tyler apparently did on many occasions before they met. “I’m starved. How about I take a quick shower, and then we can go get a bite to eat?” “Sounds good.” He continually scanned the streets, ready for a sneak attack of some kind. Marcus wouldn’t allow any assholes from Tyler’s past to ruin what they were building together. Their new place was out in the country with fifty acres. Tyler mentioned he’d love to get into horse breeding when his body became too weary for the ring. They had dreams, big ones, little ones, even silly ones…but they were their dreams, and he wouldn’t have an outsider try and steal away what was theirs. By the time they left the hotel for dinner, Marcus was downright paranoid. He’d continually checked out the window of their one-story hotel, jotted down license plate numbers of strange vehicles, and was jumpier than a guilty child. Could Tyler just have overreacted? Maybe it wasn’t his foster brother who slashed the tires. Coincidences happened every day, didn’t they?

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They entered the local diner. At this point they all looked the same to Marcus. He hadn’t sacrificed his dietary habits, but he’d compromised a bit. They took a table at the end of the diner. “I wonder if they have salads here,” he said, glancing at the menu. “Darlin’, you need meat. Men need meat.” Marcus narrowed his eyes. They’d had this mock fight too many times to count. “If they don’t have salad on the menu I’ll make sure they whip one up special for you.” He believed it. What Tyler wanted, happened. He reached across the table and took Marcus’s hand in his. “Remember that first night? We were sitting at a table just like this, and I took your hand in mine. Little did I know you’d change my life forever.” “I came to try and snag you for Cavendish, but I got you for myself.” He kissed Tyler’s knuckles, so full of love for this cowboy he couldn’t begin to describe it. Those green eyes seemed to look into his soul. Then the moment came crashing down when Tyler’s attention was pulled to the aisle. “You find yourself a new boyfriend, Tye?” Two men, one the stranger from earlier, sidled up next to their booth. Tyler froze in place, his face a blank slate. The stale odor of cigarettes and alcohol was strong on the men’s clothing. “What do you want, Adam?” Tyler pulled his hands away, his posture straightened. “It’s a public place. We’re just here to eat.” “Then we’ll leave.” When Tyler attempted to stand, Adam, the man with the lazy eye, pressed down on his shoulder. He bent low to speak directly to Tyler. “I heard about your record placement today. What did I tell you about tainting a real man’s sport?” Marcus studied Tyler, not sure if he should speak for him. His cowboy’s jaw twitched and fists were clenched hard. Any minute and

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he’d strike. Tyler may have been more than twice as buff as the two assholes, but there were two of them, both husky and menacing. “Tyler’s more a man than you’ll ever be. If you’re so worried about the future of the sport, why aren’t you in the ring? Because you know he’d kick your ass all the way ’til Friday.” No one spoke. Marcus was quite proud. A waitress approached. “Problem here, boys?” “Nope. We were just leaving,” said Adam. “But we’ll be seeing you two later.” Had he really yelled loud enough to attract the waitress? The threat muttered was clearly evident, but at least they were leaving the diner. Marcus felt the adrenaline leak from his pores once they were out of sight. “Where did all that come from?” Tyler stared at him as if he’d just walked on water. “What?” He shrugged and smirked. “You do the same for me all the time. I wasn’t going to sit here while they tried to tear you down.” “That’s my job, Marcus. I’m supposed to take care of you.” He ran his hand through his tousled brown hair. “How can I protect you every second? They’re always around, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.” “Soon we’ll have our own place, safe and off the radar.” “Don’t you get it? It’ll take just one time for them to follow us home or find out our address from one place or another and then we’re fucked.” Marcus wouldn’t accept this. He wouldn’t let bullies ruin his chance at happiness. Hadn’t they done enough to Tyler when he was growing up? He kept quiet. They ordered, ate, and had coffee. The night beyond the glass beside them was black and impenetrable by human eyes due to the glare from the indoor lighting. They were both stalling, delaying the inevitable. “What would you do if I wasn’t here?” Marcus finally asked. Quiet was far worse than fighting in his opinion. A silent dagger

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working its way into his gut. At least a punch was over with in an instant, not a lingering torture. “I’d fight ’em.” Marcus got up from his seat, tossed some bills on the table, and headed for the exit. **** Where the hell was he going? He wasn’t taking the threat seriously. Tyler knew what his foster brothers were capable of. They were sadistic bastards, hate-filled, and ruthless. Not even the animals on their ranch had been safe from those two. Tyler had always done his best to defend the cowdogs and livestock, but he couldn’t always be there and he was just a scrawny kid back then. He’d come home one day after a back-breaking day on the fields to find his favorite dog under his blankets, dead. It was one cruelty after the other. Now he had Marcus to consider. “Get back here!” he called out into the darkness. He could only see the whites from the stripe on Marcus’s shirt. He caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm. “Tyler, stop babying me. I’m a grown fucking man. You don’t have to protect me from some jerks from your past. I don’t understand the hold they have on you, but it has to stop.” “They’re not normal people. They live off the grid. Law and order mean nothing to them, trust me.” He held Marcus close, unwilling to have him disappear into the darkness. “I won’t have them ruin what we’ve started together,” he whispered. Tyler pulled him into his arms and held him, cooing against his ear. He could stand like this forever. A shrill whistle cut through the moment, abruptly pulling Tyler into reality. “Look at the lovebirds, Glen.” Adam laughed. “This is the future of the rodeo? A bunch of queers holding hands?”

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Tyler pushed Marcus behind him. He wasn’t afraid for himself. And he wasn’t surprised they were waiting for him. He’d been through hell and back numerous times in his life—from his time on his foster ranch to countless injuries in the ring and bar fights. He could handle himself, but the thought of one finger touching his boyfriend made him more dangerous than a mother bear guarding her cub. Marcus yelled over his shoulder, “He’s got more going than you. Where’re your prize buckles? Do you even have a wife, or do you go home and jerk off every night?” “Hush,” said Tyler. He didn’t need to rile men that were already raring to go. “That’s right. You best listen to your boyfriend if you know what’s good for you,” said Adam. “You best watch the way you speak to him,” Tyler threatened. He wasn’t sure if either man had a weapon, and his gun was under the mattress in his hotel room. Either way, he’d be using his fists. The moonlight glimmered off a metallic surface. He hadn’t even thought of a knife. A knife was so much more threatening, could cause more pain and suffering than a single gunshot. His foster brothers often played with knifes in the past, taunting him, insisting they’d cut off his balls if he didn’t do what they demanded. Those traitorous childhood fears seeping into his mind, but they had no place there. Tyler wasn’t a skinny teen anymore with no one to turn to. He was a grown man, bigger than most, and he had Marcus’s love to anchor him. “You plan on using that?” “I’d only be doing the world a favor,” said Adam, examining the blade with a twisted admiration. Tyler wasn’t going to stand and wait for one of them to strike. The night was dark, and they were in the deserted area between the diner and motel, a no-man’s land with no witnesses. It would be too easy for them to kill or injure him and Marcus and get off scot-free.

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He took a deep breath, feeling his muscles tighten and heartbeat increase as he prepared himself for action. Then he struck. Tyler barreled forward and used his shoulder to plow Adam backwards until he fell on his ass. Glen was on him like white to rice, but he wasn’t as husky and Tyler easily knocked him flat. They didn’t give up easily, continually getting back up and throwing sloppy punches. He managed to kick the knife away when it hit the ground, but that didn’t mean they had no others on them. “Tyler!” Marcus’s deep warning sent a chill up his spine at the same time he felt the cool metallic blade against his Adam’s apple. He thought Glen was down for the count from the last punch, but he’d come up behind him without a sound while he fought with Adam. “You’re gonna kill me and risk going to prison for the rest of your lives?” He could barely speak without the sharp edge of the blade digging deeper against his throat. “It’s a rodeo town. Men get drunk and stupid. Nobody will suspect us, especially after we take care of your little bitch.” Without worry for his own welfare, only concerned with ensuring Marcus remained untouched, he elbowed Glen in the gut. He could feel the slice of the blade along the side of his neck, the warm moisture seeping forth, but no pain. “Run, Marcus!” He was becoming dizzy and unsteady on his feet, shuffling his boots along the gravel. The advance of the two men on him was like a hallucination, happening but he was unable to focus or feel. Then the shot rang out. It was near deafening in the hushed surroundings, snapping Tyler back to the present with a morbid fear.

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Chapter Fourteen Tyler woke up in a sterile white room with drawn mint-green curtains to the side of him. How did he get in a hospital, and why was his head pounding? He tried to sit up on the bed, but thought better and lay back down. “Ah, ah, ah. You’re staying put.” He turned to the window where the voice originated. Marcus was standing by the bed, the morning light spilling in from behind highlighting him like an angel. “What happened?” “You don’t remember?” Tyler searched his muddled thoughts, digging deep and becoming frustrated when he couldn’t recall any recent events. “I’m trying.” “But you remember me, don’t you?” “Of course.” He reached out, not wanting to upset his boyfriend. The rodeo was closing up soon, and it was only a few weeks until they moved into their new home. How the hell he ended up in the hospital was the only wrench in his memories. Marcus took his hand, and Tyler pulled it to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “What do you remember about last night?” “Um…” “Do you remember having dinner? What about riding earlier?” He couldn’t help but smile. “I remember you watching me ride.” “And after?” Tyler’s head began to pound again. Why couldn’t he remember? Had he hit his head? He felt a dull throbbing at his neck and reached to touch it. There was a thick bandage on the side of his neck. “What

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on earth? Darlin’, I don’t remember anything that happened after my ride. Did I get tossed in another event?” “Don’t touch.” Marcus gently smacked his probing hand. “You got hurt pretty bad, but you’ll live. When I take you home, you’re going to be under my care. Your season just got cut short.” “But—” Marcus shook his head. “No buts! You nearly got yourself killed. We’ll wait out the next couple weeks at a decent motel, and then you’ll park yourself on the sofa while my cousins and I move us into our new home.” “The fall must have knocked the sense out of me.” Tyler took a cleansing breath, feeling full of butterflies despite being in the hospital. He was alive and had the best man in the world to spend his life with. **** Marcus stepped out onto the gleaming waxed hallway. The two officers were waiting for his statement. He’d already been at the police station half the night, but they wanted to find out what Tyler knew about the murders. Since he couldn’t recall last night’s events, Marcus was going to take his place for questioning. The small-town cops didn’t look overly concerned when he joined them around a small table in a nearby staff room. Apparently rubbing out a neighbor wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in this part of the state. “So…” the balding officer began. He wasn’t going to play games. Marcus planned to advocate for his boyfriend, come hell or high water. “Tyler can’t remember a thing, and I want it to stay that way.” “He was a witness. He’ll still need to make a statement.” Marcus was in his element now. No fear or uncertainty. Handling business and legal matters was his forte at work. They often used him as a negotiator during contract talks. These hicks didn’t know who the

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fuck they were dealing with. “I’ll get him to sign an affidavit stating that he has no recollection of last night. You’re not going to drag him down a hellish memory lane just so you can update your files.” The older man scratched his temple. “You don’t plan on telling him?” “No. I don’t.” He used this thickest executive voice, the one he saved for businesses trying to swindle Cavendish. “And if any of you feel the need to fill him in, I’m sure Cavendish saddles wouldn’t be too eager to support the rodeo in this town next year, or the next, which I believe helps pay the salaries for the police force.” “You’re with Cavendish?” “As Tyler would say, damn straight. Now, can we finish up? The doctor said I can take him home this afternoon. Let’s not forget, we’re the victims here.” Marcus left the room and collected himself emotionally before joining Tyler. It wouldn’t be easy keeping the truth from him, but he’d carry that burden on himself. He’d rather live with nightmares than pass them on to the man he loved. When he’d seen the blood, watched Tyler fall to the ground, his mind transcended his body. It was surreal and horrifying. At the moment those two men went for the kill, Marcus didn’t hesitate in pulling the small pistol from his waistband and firing. He’d secretly taken Tyler’s gun along to the diner to calm his nerves, never expecting he’d actually need to use it. Marcus hadn’t stopped shaking all night after coming to the hospital, but he didn’t regret what he did, what he had to do. Tyler went into minor surgery to sew up the lacerations on his neck. He lost a lot of blood, mostly from when he hit his head after falling. The memory loss was an unexpected bonus. But he believed it was more than that. Tyler often spoke about large segments of his memories that had gone missing during the worst years of his childhood, his body’s natural defense to keep some level of sanity in a

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world gone mad. This amnesia was a godsend, or exactly what his mind needed as an excuse to forget events better left forgotten. Marcus may have to keep the secret, live with the gut-wrenching knowledge that he was responsible for taking two men’s lives, but it was worth any suffering on his part. He loved Tyler too much. Now his cowboy could live life without looking over his back, not have to feel that sense of dread that one day his foster brothers would come for him or Marcus. Tyler hadn’t even told him half the things they’d done to him, the things that had him calling out in the night or waking up sweaty and terrified. Even though they were dead and gone, selfdefense reported on the police record, there was no reason for Tyler to deal with the drama. His mind gave him peace, and Marcus wasn’t going to steal that away. He reentered the room. “How’re you feeling now?” “Can’t say I’m right as rain, but not too bad considering…” Tyler’s hair was matted and his skin ashen, but he looked adorable in a boyish way. All he wanted to do was bring him home, take care of him, and love him. He never wanted to see this town, this hospital, or these police ever again. Marcus wanted to put the ordeal behind them and begin the life they were meant to live with each other. “You look good for losing so much blood. Good thing you eat all the protein you do.” He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. “Mmm, I could eat ten steaks right now. How long have I gone without eating?” “You’ll survive, cowboy.” Marcus leaned over and kissed Tyler on the forehead. They’d make it through this together. After a mountain of paperwork from the police and hospital staff to get Tyler released, they were in Marcus’s car heading out of town. It was strange driving and driving with nothing but prairies around them on the endless stretch of highway. He imagined this had been a snapshot of Tyler’s life when he lived as a drifter, going from one town to the next, alone, with no roots or final destination. Marcus looked to his side to find Tyler hunched to the side, asleep. He sighed

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contentedly. As long as he had Tyler, he could handle any obstacle. He only prayed that a semi-stationary life wouldn’t be too dull for the hardcore cowboy. Would he bore of Marcus over time? Would he resent him if he ever found he hid the truth about last night? **** The recovery wasn’t too bad. His body was sore, but no worse than taking a fall in the ring. After the accident his mind was a hazy mess, and it drove him mad that he couldn’t remember the events. Marcus was shaken to the core, despite trying to act unscathed. They were staying in a new motel after he was released from the hospital. That was when his memories began to return, as if a net was lifted off his mind. He replayed the night over and over in his head, not able to forget the fear on Marcus’s face. His city boy loved him. He’d sacrificed everything for Tyler, and he wouldn’t ever forget that. Marcus’s lies about the accident were forgivable, especially when he had Tyler’s best intentions in mind. There were so many moments he wanted to reveal he got his memories back, but didn’t want to diminish the gift Marcus made. He’d taken the burden of that night on his shoulders so Tyler wouldn’t have to suffer with the violent memories. The truth was, Tyler had dealt with much worse in his life. A few more unsavory memories couldn’t break him. His past could no longer control him because he had a loving, secure relationship to ground him. He’d spend the rest of his life showing Marcus how much he appreciated him. **** Tyler walked in small circles as he attempted to break one of his new colts. Only two were green broke, but he’d have the other three tamed in no time. In fact, he had all the time in the world. The sky

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was a robin’s-egg blue, not a cloud to be seen. Their land stretched beyond the horizon, lush fields, and acres of hardwood. It had been over a month since they’d settled into their new homestead and decided to take up horse breeding as a side income. “Hey!” He turned, careful not to get tied up in all the slack from the training lead. Marcus stood on the wraparound porch, just a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Lord, the man was magnificent. His dark hair was slicked back, his skin golden and moist. “I’m just finishing up.” Tyler cautiously approached the colt and then led him back into the main barn. It was so odd having his own place. It would take a lot of getting used to before he realized this was their home and he never had to leave or worry about someone kicking him out. Tyler dusted off his jeans with his Stetson as he stepped up onto the balcony. Marcus welcomed him with a kiss, a soft, sensual kiss. “You should get showered after all that work.” “You just don’t want me smelling like a horse.” He chuckled and playfully smacked Marcus on the ass. Marcus shrugged before taking a seat on the bench swing, looking off into the fields. Tyler often wondered if Marcus was happy here, so far away from the city and everything he knew. Was the isolation stifling him? Did he regret their relationship? He sat beside Marcus and kneaded his thigh, setting the swing into motion. “You okay?” “Great.” “Do you want to go into town for dinner tonight? Or we could pick up pizzas and bring them home?” He just wanted Marcus to talk to him, really talk to him. There was something he held back, and he suspected the cause but was reluctant to bring it up. He just wanted him to be happy, like he’d made him. If moving to the city was the answer, he’d do it in a heartbeat, even if it wasn’t his first choice. “Sure.” “Darlin’, look at me.” He turned the other man’s cheek to face him. His eyes were glazed over. “What’s the matter with you lately?”

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He shook his head and looked away. “Don’t you start with me. I know when something’s wrong with you.” He took a breath. “You’re not happy.” That garnered Marcus’s attention. “I am. I’m too happy, so happy it scares me.” “You’re not making any sense, baby.” “I don’t want any secrets between us. Good relationships need a solid foundation. But—” He could practically feel Marcus’s inner conflict, see it twisting his handsome features. “This have anything to do with the night I got hurt?” Marcus frowned, clearly not expecting Tyler to know what he was thinking. But he knew. He’d hit the heart of the problem and was about to fix it. “I know all about it. If that’s what’s making you fret, just stop.” He twisted onto one leg, his towel nearly unraveling from its knot. “What do you mean you know? How? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me!” Tyler laughed and pulled Marcus against him. They rocked, looking out onto the land. Our land. “Two days after.” “Two days!” He pulled back, nearly toppling off the swing. “I’ve been driving myself nuts with guilt for over a month.” “I know what you were trying to do for me, and I love you even more for it. I didn’t want to spoil your gift.” And it was a gift. For someone to care about him enough to put his needs and feelings first was priceless. It was something he’d never experienced as a young man, not even sure such love existed outside of country songs. “You’re okay with it? With knowing and me not telling you?” He looked like a puppy with his big brown eyes, eager for approval. “All along, I was only worried about you. I’ve managed fine on my own for years, but knowing they could hurt you, even place one finger on you—that’s what made me crazy. You didn’t have to keep it from me. They can’t hurt me here”—he touched his head—“because

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you’ve overridden everything. You’ve taught me what love is, taught me that it’s okay to trust.” “I’m sorry…” Marcus cupped his face. “No, thank you.” They both leaned into each other, kissing, touching, showing each other physically what they felt emotionally. That invisible barrier that managed to slip between them, thickening with each passing week, dissolved with their confessions.

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Chapter Fifteen Marcus felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder, the perpetual gloom—gone. He’d become so obsessed that one day a cowboy who’d been in the town at the time of the murders would tell Tyler, making Marcus look like a lying rat. He didn’t want his boyfriend to hate him, especially when he did it out of love. Now that everything was in the open, he could just enjoy each day, relax and embrace their life together. “Tell me though, sweet thing, does country life suit you? Do you miss the city?” He didn’t. There was nothing for him in the world he left behind. He still talked with his family by phone, but they weren’t close enough to just show up whenever they wanted. Franco came up to visit a couple times, which was nice since he knew the truth. Living without hiding was liberating. The balance was perfect, and the country lifestyle grew on him to the point he couldn’t imagine returning to congested traffic, lineups, and pollution. Besides, if Tyler was happy, he was happy. Watching his cowboy teach the horses, take care of their property with pride—it was special and precious, moments he wouldn’t trade for the world. “You’re not in the city, so no, I don’t miss it.” “Do you realize we haven’t christened our ranch? It’s customary where I come from. You’ll bring us bad luck if you keep holding off.” Tyler’s eyes had changed from serious to playful. A hint of seduction lay behind those beautiful green irises. “Oh, really? And what does this christening involve exactly?”

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The cicadas droned off in the distance, a rustic lullaby for a lazy afternoon, but the ancient oaks near the house provided welcome shade to the front of the house. Tyler made sure to have a window airconditioner installed in their upstairs bedroom so Marcus wouldn’t have trouble sleeping during the night when it was too hot and humid for his lungs. He’d already found that being out of the pollution of the city had helped his health tremendously. Tyler urged him to stand in front on him with silent gestures. He complied, fitting between his open legs as he looked up at him from the bench swing. Then Tyler tugged the towel away, tossing it aside with disregard. “Well, well, well. When did this happen?” Tyler alternated looking from Marcus’s eyes to his prominent hard-on, jutting out near his face. “I’m always hard for you. You know that.” “Damn, I love your cock. It’s fucking gorgeous.” Tyler painted a line along the hard ridges with a fingertip, a featherlight stroke when he needed so much more. He wanted the cowboy to squeeze him, play with his balls, anything to help squelch the heat burning in his veins. Marcus sighed. He felt odd standing on his porch stark naked, the warm breeze gently tickling his body. Both of Tyler’s hands cupped his ass, pulling him forward into his hot, wet mouth. “Someone will see,” he muttered, bracing his arms against the brick wall behind the swing. “Who’s gonna see what we’re doing way out here? The horses? Darlin’, this is our place, and we can do what we damn well please. Right now I want your dick in my mouth.” Tyler grabbed the root of his erection and suckled him. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, lips, mouth to drive Marcus to the edge in record time. With both hands supporting his weight against the bricks, he watched Tyler’s mop of wavy brown hair bob back and forth, bringing him to that place where nothing mattered but sex and more sex. “I’m gonna come down your throat, cowboy.”

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Tyler pulled back, leaving him bobbing in the breeze. “The hell if you are.” He unzipped his Wranglers and released his own cock— hard, darkened by desire, and impossibly thick. A few days had passed since they’d made love. That increasing stress no longer existed. “Can I sit on it?” He growled. “No teasing.” Marcus wasn’t playing. His ass felt achy and needy. He craved the wicked rush of pleasure he knew Tyler’s cock could bring him once he impaled his full length in his ass. He turned around and squatted over his lap. His cock was throbbing, so he began to stroke himself, unable to wait for Tyler to prep with his saliva. “Okay, put it down on me, baby.” He lowered down, and Tyler guided him. Even only a few days without sex left him impossibly tight, in need of a good stretching. He wiggled around Tyler’s thick, swollen head to loosen himself, anxious to feel the burn, the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. “Fill me up. All the way.” Tyler eased him down, holding his hips in his big, rough hands. Once sitting heavily on his lap, his dick fully lodged inside him, he nearly came from the intensity of it all. He leaned back until he his head rested on Tyler’s shoulder. They kissed as his cowboy jerked him off. It was heaven. The multiple stimuli had him spiraling out of control. He needed to come, needed to release all the stress and pentup energy he’d been holding on to. “You take over for me. I need to fuck you now, baby boy.” One more kiss and he leaned forward, pumping his own shaft in time to Tyler’s rocking hips. They helped each other, Marcus rising and Tyler thrusting upwards. “That feels so good. So good.” He drifted, needed it harder, rougher, dirtier. Tyler delivered as if sensing his wicked desires, pounding his ass like a machine. The rocking bench creaked and rattled, probably close to coming undone. “I’m gonna come, Tyler.

Loving Tyler

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Oh, God, I’m coming…” He rapidly worked his cock as his orgasm ripped through his body. Tyler’s animalistic groans behind him signaled he wasn’t far behind. “Oh, baby. Fuck!” Marcus could feel Tyler’s seed spraying inside him, filling and completing him. He collapsed back against his boyfriend’s chest, trying to catch his breath. Tyler ran his hands up and down his sides and over his six-pack abs in a loving caress. They rocked this way, with Tyler’s flaccid cock still connecting them, for the longest time. A couple of their chickens scurried across the yard. “What are you thinking?” Marcus whispered. “That I could get used to this.” Tyler’s chest rumbled beneath him as he chuckled. “Good, because I’m not going anywhere.” They interlocked fingers. “This is our home now, cowboy, our new beginning.” It had been a wild road to reach this point, but he’d do it again in a minute. Everything in his life had prepared him for this day, so he could fully appreciate the love, peace, and acceptance. They’d saved each other, combining their unique attributes to make them both better people. His road trip to recruit a rising rodeo star had not worked out as planned. But loving Tyler was so much better.

THE END WWW.WINONAWILDER.BLOGSPOT.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Winona Wilder enjoys delving into the human mind and exploring emotion. She savors the challenge of mixing smoking hot sex with lovable, complex characters. When not spending time with her husband and children in the Great Canadian North, she's typing away at her next m/m romance. She also writes bestselling erotic romance under another name.

Also by Winona Wilder Ménage Amour ManLove: Coming Out 1: Choosing Love Siren Classic ManLove: Coming Out 2: Cowboy Drifter

Also Writing as Stacey Espino Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 1: Hardcore Cowboys Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 2: Corralling the City Girl

For all other titles, please visit www.bookstrand.com/stacey-espino

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com