Hide Bound

December 28, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #2
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 18, 2022
Pages: 276

Peter Marshall has had enough of working for Parks and Rec when he comes across an opening for a real carpentry job and decides to give it a go. Building things is his passion, so even though the shop seems a little out there, and the owner seems pretty grumpy, Peter decides to go for it.

Brandon McPhail wishes he didn’t have to hire a new carpenter, but his current one is going out on maternity leave. He’s especially wary of this kid who can’t possibly be old enough to spell BDSM, let alone know what the lifestyle means. But Peter impresses Brandon with both his talent and his tenacity, so Brandon hires him on, reminding himself that he’s in a wheelchair due to his MS, he had a terrible experience in his last relationship, and despite how clueless Peter is about the lifestyle, he’s not interested in taking on another sub.

The chemistry between them is undeniable, though, and it’s not long before they’re exploring what they can learn from each other. Peter is a natural at fulfilling Brandon’s needs, and Brandon thinks he’s teaching Peter everything he’s eager to learn, but when danger threatens, they have to help their friends through it while trying to navigate their new relationship. Can they forge bonds strong enough to bind them together for life?

Note to readers: Each book in this series is a true standalone, so don't be confused when you discover that Hide Bound takes place before Just Dex in the "timeline". That was deliberate, and you don't need to have read one to read the other.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“What are you looking at, Peter?” 

Shane, Peter Marshall’s tattoo artist, was also a professional piercer, and therefore one of Peter’s favorite people in the whole world. 

“Classifieds.” 

Peter spent so much time in Shane’s shop that it felt like he belonged there. Shane had been working on outlining and coloring Peter’s amazing sleeve and chest piece for a long while, bit by bit as Peter found the money. He’d almost taken off his shirt when he walked in the door this morning; it was a weird automatic thing to just strip it off every time he got there. 

But today he wasn’t getting more ink, he was getting snake bites on the left side of his lower lip. Two small, black horseshoe rings to match his septum ring, only these had little triangular ends that Shane called spikes. He liked that they sounded a little dangerous but weren’t really; they were just a little pokey. 

Shane put dots on his lip with a marking pen and showed him the placement. “Looking for work?” 

“Always.” He handed the mirror back to Shane. “That looks great.” 

“You’re a contractor, right?” 

“Yeah, but I’m really a carpenter by—” Shane startled him by tilting his chair back suddenly so he was reclining a little. “Whoa.” 

Shane grinned evilly at him. “Sorry, man. Did I forget to warn you?” 

Peter laughed. “Gosh, I guess you did.” 

“Okay, no more talking. I’m working.” 

He gave Shane a thumbs up and closed his eyes. 

He really needed a new job. Right now he worked for New York City Parks and Rec as a contractor, and he spent his time fixing things—gates and picnic tables, usually things stupid people broke. The older guys he worked with called it job security, but Peter didn’t feel like he needed to be fixing the toilets in the public restrooms in Central Park to feel secure. 

He was good at the job though; he could fix almost anything. He liked to say he knew just enough about plumbing and electricity to be dangerous, but he hadn’t actually blown anything up or hurt anyone yet. Anyone but himself anyway, and that was fine. 

He did like a few bruises. 

He felt the quick pressure and slight sting as the piercing went through his lip and his mind drifted just a bit. The second one stung more than the first and pushed him even farther away. He snorted when Shane teased him about the little grin he thought he was suppressing. 

“You like that, huh? You’re into pain, I know.” 

“Yeah, some. Sorry.” He was weird. But Shane wasn’t going to tell anyone. 

“No worries. You have to be willing to dish it out a little to do what I do, too. It’s all good.” 

Another reason Shane was one of his favorites. 

“I’m going to sit you up. Open your eyes when you’re ready and have a look.” Shane pressed a hand mirror into his fingers knowing he’d settle in a second and raised the head of the chair. 

After a time, he couldn’t be sure how long, he had a look. “Oh, perfect. I love the spikes.” 

“They’re great. Stylish and a little intimidating. Clean the outside a few times a day, don’t use mouthwash or kiss anyone for a week or so. You’re good to go.” 

He swung his legs off the table and stood up, blinking at the little surge of lightheadedness. Mmm, that was good. He offered Shane a hand. “Thanks, man.” 

“More ink next week? I’m itching to finish the outline across your shoulders.” 

Rent was due Friday so that was iffy. “If I have the cash, I’ll be here.” 

“Even if you don’t. I really want to finish that bit; it’s killing me.” Shane winked at him. 

He agreed and pulled his phone back out, reading the ad he’d been looking at for the fifth time. 

Midtown boutique seeks full-time carpenter for custom furniture builds. 

Real work. Custom work. 

Must have experience. Blah blah blah. 

No sweat. 

The place was called “Hide Bound”, and he figured it was one of those made-to-order places that built stuff to spec. It wasn’t design work, but it was a far cry from replacing yet another flush handle. 

So that was going to be his next stop. Him and his fat lip. 

He sent a little prayer up to the gods of job hunting that the position paid well enough he could say yes if it was offered to him.

Title: Hide Bound
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09PGKXTSK
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-68-0

Razor’s Edge

November 24, 2019 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: January 21, 2020

Razor's Edge, The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book Two

Razor blades left by a murderer continue to remind Sam and Thomas of James, the man they lost to violence, whose killer is still out there and seems to be watching them constantly, biding his time.

Their carefully built relationship also teeters on the edge of a knife. Sam tries to be the full-time sub he thinks Thomas wants, but fails miserably, while Thomas tries to understand that Sam is unique and his cowboy’s needs don’t lend themselves to a formal BDSM lifestyle. They work through confusion, arguments, and stress, but when communication starts to break down, they struggle to reconcile their differences to learn what it means to be a “them”.

An emotional misunderstanding might be the last straw, or it might be the opportunity the killer has been waiting for to take Sam out of Thomas’s life once and for all.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Excerpt 

Chapter One

“You want a ride home, little Sammy?” Angel looked tired, a little grumpy.

Sam got it. It was four in the morning and no one liked that time—just getting up or getting off work.

“You going that way? Toward Thomas’s, I mean.”

The big man looked over at him slowly, fingers combing his beard. “Thomas’s? At this hour?”

“Yessir. We cleaned out James’s place. It was time.” His late brother’s apartment had been hanging over the two of them for too long. They’d cleaned it out, then he’d moved in with Thomas. Crawling into bed with his lover was amazing. A lot of things he was learning these days were pretty fucking amazing. Hell, he could feel Thomas with him, feel the sweet sting of his Dom’s stripes right across his shoulders. It was proof they weren’t alone, either of them.

“What, really? Thomas was really ready to do that? You need a place to stay, I got an extra room.”

“That’s kind as all get-out. Seriously. But I’m okay.” Oh, maybe it was supposed to be a secret. Thomas had said it was important to him, to keep things where they belonged. God, he needed to keep his fucking mouth shut. “I-I think I’m going to go take myself to breakfast, man, get some reading done, but thanks.”

“Shut up, Sammy. It’s not like I don’t know he’s your Master. Are you and Thomas a romantic thing now? Is this supposed to be some big secret because he’s coming off a relationship with James? Don’t be stupid. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He didn’t know if it was a secret, if he was a secret. He hadn’t even considered it. He’d been so caught up in everything, so proud to be with Thomas, that he hadn’t been thinking.

In some ways he was always going to be a giant redneck.

“I’ll tell you, it’s a good thing you told me, because I was about to make a move myself. No lie. Leave it to Thomas to get two O’Reilly brothers. The little shit.”

Angel led him out to that big Harley.

“There seems to be something about him, yessir.”

About to make a move on him? Sleeping with Angel would be like sleeping with his big brother, Bowie. They were just alike, the two of them—huge. Sam trusted Angel with his life, but the idea of… Whoa. No.

He would let Thomas take him in every possible way. The idea of doing that with someone else made his butthole pucker.

“Hardly seems fair.” Angel climbed on and offered him a hand, grinning wide. “Well, at least I can still get you to ride bitch.”

“Absolutely. And you’re on the top of my list for fixing me when I’m broke.”

“If Thomas breaks you, I will break his head.” Angel looked back at him. “Not joking.” They took off down city streets that were much too bright for the darkest hour of the morning, and eerily deserted too. Angel didn’t seem to care much for stoplights or speed limits or really anything that might be considered obeying traffic laws.

He loved it, loved the adrenaline rush, the way Angel drove. It made him want to learn to drive a motorcycle.

Thomas lived on a more residential street, and Angel did back off the throttle a little so the Harley rumbled rather than roared, but Sam was still pretty sure they could be heard three blocks away. “You okay? You want me to walk you in?”

“Thomas will be sound asleep, I bet. I’d hate to wake him. Thank you, though.” Angel had been a dream, driving him home, making sure everything was good.

“We won’t. I won’t come in. I just want to make sure you get in all the way.”

He nodded. “Thank you. Y’all are all good to me.”

They got into the building, and the elevator crawled up. He blinked slowly, now that he was close to home, he wanted a shower and a bowl of cereal and to curl up with Thomas. Possibly on his belly. Get the fabric off his sore shoulders.

When the elevator doors opened, he chuckled as Angel walked him to the apartment door. Sam fumbled his key out, dropped it, and picked it up, sighing at himself. “Ready for a long nap and a day off.”

He put the key in the lock, grabbed the door handle, and bit out a “Fuck!” as a razor blade sliced into his palm.

“You okay? What the—shit, you’re bleeding.” Angel took the blade in one hand and opened the door with the other. “What the actual fuck?”

Sam stood there, staring at the razor, just stunned. No. No way. No fucking way.

He’d thought it was a prankster in James’s building.

“Sammy? You okay, man? Go inside.” Angel made him move, closed and locked the door behind them. “Hey. Sam.”

“I don’t understand.” God. This wasn’t a dipshit at the apartment. This wasn’t a trickster. No. This was about him.

It was about him, and now he’d brought it to Thomas. The asshole followed him to Thomas’s building.

Fuck. This was fucking about him.

His mind spun, and his heart pounded. “I need to see if Thomas is okay.”

“If…” Angel started to question him, but must have seen how serious he was. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

But before they made it halfway down the hall, Thomas called out for him. “Sam? Is that you? Everything okay?”

“We need you out here, Tommy.”

“Angel?”

“Now, Tommy.”

Sam just kept walking, his hand closed against his chest. He needed to see Thomas, to make sure he was…intact.

They met in the bedroom doorway, practically colliding in Thomas’s hurry to join them. “Sam? Angel? What’s going on? Sweetheart?”

Sam searched Thomas’s eyes, which were sleepy and worried, but his lover was whole.

Angel held up the razor blade. “On your door. He wouldn’t let me clean him up before he saw you.”

Sam had brought this to Thomas’s home. Him. Goddammit.

Thomas stared at it and sighed. “Fuck.” Thomas looked back at him. “I’m fine. You need to let Angel look at that, boy. I’m calling Colletti.”

“I’m sorry.” He headed to the kitchen and stuck his hand under the water, staring at nothing. He needed to…he ought to…he was…

Angel followed him, and he heard Thomas on his cell phone in the bedroom. “Who’s Colletti? Sam. Hey.” The water suddenly went ice cold.

His eyes flew open, his entire body jerking with the cold. “I have to take a walk. I’ll be back. I’ll bring back coffee.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Like hell you will. You’re in shock, Sammy. You need to sit down.” Angel took him by the arm. “Come on. You’re going to sit and let me see that cut.”

Angel sat him down, staring right in his eyes. This wasn’t Angel his buddy talking now; this was Angel the EMT. Angel the retired Army combat medic. “Breathe, Sammy. In and out. Just relax. You’re okay.”

He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay at all.

“Hang on.” Angel wrapped his hand up in a kitchen towel. “Sam? Do you know where you are?” He thought he felt fingers, pressure on his wrist.

“I need to get out of here. Somebody followed me.” Poor Thomas. God.

“Detective Colletti is going to call me back in the morning.”

Thomas.

“Is he okay?” Thomas knelt by his chair. “Sam, are you okay?”

“He’s tachy, pulse is high. Not really focusing. I’m gonna guess he’s altered. Special K probably, maybe on the blade. A little goes a long way.”

“What? Are you kidding?”

“He keeps saying he has to go.”

“Oh, Sam.” A warm hand pressed into his cheek. “Sam, look here.”

“I’m sorry.” He forced himself to stay perfectly still, because this was going to hurt. “I brought this here somehow.”

He was going to have to leave.

“Stop, Sam. He might just as easily have followed me. Or us. It was probably both of us when we were moving James’s things and your things. This isn’t on you. But we’re going to catch him now. Colletti’s on it. He’ll call us in the morning.”

“Shit, this is a thing? Like it’s happened before?”

“Sam cut his hand a bunch of times in the other building. Even I did once. And whoever mugged him took James’s coat and nothing else. This is real, Angel. Really fucking real.”

“Oh, fuck.” Angel looked like thunderclouds were forming in his mind. “I can’t fucking believe it. Let me see your hand, Sammy.”

Sam looked to Thomas, frozen where he was. He’d known Thomas would agree that he should leave. That Thomas would say it wasn’t worth it.

“Yeah. He’s out of it.” Angel just took his hand.

“Sweetheart, I’m right here. I’ve got you; you’re safe, okay? Angel says there was something on that blade that’s got you a little…stoned.”

“I don’t suppose you know when his last tetanus shot was?”

He heard Thomas snort.

“I’m going to call Gina. She’s on tonight. He needs a tetanus shot and some stitches. Take some blood. It’ll take a few. You keep him here and calm.”

“I need to—I’m sorry.” And scared. What if this was punishment for falling in love with Thomas? What if this was all his fault?

“I’ve got him. I’m just going to take him to the couch. Hope Gina doesn’t mind my boxer briefs. Come on, sweetheart. Come with me.” Thomas pulled him out of the chair, but walking was hard, so he floated a little and landed on the couch in Thomas’s arms. “You need to relax and stop saying you’re sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Sam took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to focus.

Okay. Come on, Sam. Get with the program. Wake up. Focus. “I was going to take a shower.”

A shower, a bowl of cereal, snuggling.

“I thought he’d gotten in, gotten to you.”

“You were scared, huh? I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m fine. And you’ll be fine once this…shit…wears off. Colletti thinks this is good. He thinks we’ll catch him now.”

Thomas just held him still and close. It wasn’t snuggling, but it didn’t suck.

“I vote we electrify the doorknob.”

His words drew a harsh laugh from Angel.

“I like it, Sammy. Fry the motherfucker.”

“Security camera. There are some outside the building, a couple inside too. Maybe Colletti can get the recordings. We’ll put one on the door.” Thomas stroked his head, his back.

He felt the hint of ache, the buzz from where Thomas had marked him, and his body relaxed, his panicked thoughts slowing.

“Gina is on her way.”

***

His day with Thomas, work, the panic, the drugs—nobody was happier than he was when the EMTs quit poking at him and headed back out the door. Angel saw the paramedics out safe and promised to stop by the next day to check in.

Thomas locked the door, including securing a chain that he’d seen hanging but hadn’t seen Thomas use before. “You want that shower, babe?”

“I do. I smell like beer.” He stood up, telling himself he needed to act like a normal, functional human being, not a stoned, stitched-up, freaked-out asshole.

Thomas caught him under one arm with a smile. “You look a little like you’ve been drinking it.” They headed down the hall together, that arm through his sturdy and warm. “You need help? Or can you manage with that hand? Oh—or is that a dumb question because you’ve broken every bone in your body and somehow have managed to shower on your own for twenty-five years?”

“Almost twenty-six.” Did he need help? No. Did he want help? God, yes. There were terrors and guilt waiting in the back of his brain, and he didn’t want to be alone with them.

“God, you’re getting old. I better come help.” He got a kiss and a smile, and Thomas started helping him undress. “You do smell like beer. Wow.”

“It’s Saturday night. I had four thrown at me. It was great.”

Thomas just gave him a shake of the head.

He knew why his lover didn’t say anything, never did about the bar. It wasn’t disapproval, or a judgment on him. Thomas just didn’t like it. He hadn’t liked it from the start—since his initiation. But his lover seemed to understand that he needed the work and never asked him not to stay, never made a stink about his choices.

Thomas got the water hot and muscled him into the shower, then set his hand up on the tile to keep it dry.

He was already feeling less fuzzy—more tired and drained from the adrenaline rush, but those sensations he knew at least—and he just…well, he didn’t understand. Why him? Why James? Why them? Was it someone at the building? Someone he worked with at Mike’s? How could it be? James didn’t go to Mike’s, hadn’t ever. Someone at Thomas’s men’s club? Why him, then? No one knew about them, and Angel had just found out tonight.

Oh. Angel knew. He needed to apologize to Thomas about telling their secret. He also needed to remind Thomas that he wasn’t completely clear on all the rules and what was a secret and what wasn’t and, shit, Angel was a friend. A real friend. But still, he needed to figure out what was between them and the bedpost and what wasn’t.

Maybe he just needed a shot or twelve and a nap.

Was six thirty in the morning too late to start drinking?

“Earth to Sam. Give me your head. Where’d you go?” Thomas started scrubbing shampoo into his hair and massaging his scalp. Oh. Thomas was actually in the shower. Like, in it with him.

“I was caught in my brain.” He hummed at the touch and leaned. He’d never done this—been with a lover in the shower. He didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“Mm-hm. I’ve made it my personal mission to get you out of your brain. Or at least into the fun part.” Thomas tipped his head back into the spray and scrubbed the soap out. “Like this. This is the fun part.”

“Yes, Sir.” He closed his eyes and let the world tighten to right here with Thomas. He should be worrying, but he was just wearing down.

“We are going to finish getting you cleaned up, and you’re going to go to bed. And you’re going to stay there until this darkness under your eyes goes away and you have color back in your face. So tell me who I talk to at the bar, because you’re not going in tonight.”

“Daddy Mike.” He answered without thought, without argument, because the idea of bed and Thomas and rest captured him.

“Good boy.” Thomas spent some time with him, running gentle, soapy hands over his skin just because he needed it, not asking or expecting anything from him but that he stay present. They toweled off, and they both had a laugh as Thomas combed his hair. “This is a new one for me. Fun, but new.”

“Me too. My first shower with a lover.” He was living in a world of firsts.

“Really?” A kiss caught him by surprise, and Thomas winked. “You got ripped off. I’ll make it much more fun next time.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m not feeling like Super Fun Boy right now.” He tried for a smile. “Angel offered me a ride home; he does most nights. I told him I was staying here. He was shocked, and I didn’t realize I maybe shouldn’t have said anything. If I wasn’t supposed to, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that he gets you home safely, especially tonight. Why shouldn’t you say anything? Are you worried about your job or something?”

“No. No, he just seemed like…” He closed his eyes as he tried to remember. “Like he was surprised. He offered me his spare room.”

“Hey.” Thomas took his hands, leading him back into the bedroom. “I’m proud of you as my sub, and I’m happy to show you off as my lover to anyone who is looking my way. Will some people be put off by it? Maybe, but it’s really none of their affair. Angel probably seemed shocked because the last he knew we were still essentially negotiating. You and I have grown together very quickly, and I just haven’t spoken to him since you moved in. That’s all. He didn’t know because I hadn’t had a chance to say anything, not because I don’t want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

“Good.” He leaned in, filling his senses with Thomas, letting it soothe the sore spots, let Thomas in to the tender bits that needed loving on. “I felt you with me, all night.”

Oh, Thomas liked that. That little growl, deep in his chest said it all. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Sir.” He let Thomas settle him, propping him up and around with pillows and Thomas’s body until he could melt into the comfort. A deep sigh escaped him.

“You sleep and trust that I’ve got this. I’ve got you.” Thomas kissed him lightly. “Rest.”

“Got me.” He was gone before he could kiss Thomas back.

 

Title: Razor's Edge
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B083F4VR98

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Roped In

March 16, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: May 10, 2022

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but sometimes distance makes people drift apart.

Rope Canutt has announced his retirement from bull riding and is making the most of his final year on the circuit, riding the big shows and resting in between so he can finish the season on a high note. He isn’t sure what’s next for him. He has no plan yet and nowhere to go, especially since his family sold their ranch a few years back.

Jude Sharpe remembers Rope fondly from their younger days in Austin. Mostly he remembers how hot the rodeo cowboy was and how much fun they had hooking up every time their paths crossed. That was a long time ago, and Jude’s been married and lost his husband to cancer in the years since they’ve seen each other. Now he’s raising a son alone.

When bull riding comes to New York City, Jude’s consulting firm uses their private box to entertain clients from Houston, and Jude brings his son Silas along to see the show. Rope is riding and Jude hopes to introduce Silas to a real bull rider. They’ve each lived a whole lifetime apart, and Jude and Rope aren’t sure how much they have in common anymore. So will they be drawn to each other when their paths cross again?

The books in this series are standalones and can be read in any order.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“Can I get a hat?” 

“No, you don’t need a hat, buddy.” 

“Daddy! Everyone here has a cowboy hat on.” 

Ah, the familiar refrain of how life wasn’t fair. Jude shrugged. “I don’t.” 

Silas rolled his eyes. “Please?” 

“Not tonight, bud.” 

Jude could understand why Silas wanted a hat; what kid didn’t want to be a cowboy? At seven, Silas was right at that age where he was impressed with every kind of uniform. But growing up in New York, Silas had seen lots of cops and firefighters and construction workers. He hadn’t ever seen cowboys that weren’t on TV. 

It had been a long time since Jude had seen one too. In fact, he wasn’t all that comfortable being here tonight. But he and several colleagues were entertaining clients and their families to celebrate the closing of their latest deal and skipping out wasn’t an option. 

Usually the firm went for hockey or basketball games, but this client was a big investment firm based outside Houston, so the marketing team had given them the hospitality suite for night one of the annual bull riding event at Madison Square Garden. 

Bull riders. Yeah. That had been a lifetime ago. 

“See? They have hats too!” As they approached the suite, Silas pointed to a handful of kids with little plastic cowboy hats on. 

Now, that was a possibility. “You want one of those?” 

“Please, Daddy?” 

“Hey, Jude! We’re right in here.” 

The Beatles song played in his mind. Yes, even at thirty-four years old, he did it too. 

“Hey, David. Whoa, Silas! Look at all of this.” He led Silas inside and showed him the buffet, which was set up in front of a backdrop of a big red barn. At the end of the buffet was a stack of swag, including the plastic cowboy hats, pins, and T-shirts. 

“Hats!” Silas looked at him for permission, and he nodded. Free swag for the win. 

“Lord have mercy, this is a good spread.” One of the wives with cotton candy hair and smoky eyes smiled at him. “Seriously. This is wild—I came all the way from Texas to New York to see a bull riding.” 

Her husband had brought her here so he could sign what was probably the most lucrative deal of his career, but he wasn’t going to say that. Jack was a good client and a better person. “It’s a novelty here. Something we only get to see on TV. It’s popular though, they say it sells out every year. Have you been to New York before?” 

“No, strangely enough. I’ve been to Boston, DC, LA, but this is my first time here. It’s so fun. I’ve had a ball exploring.” When she bounced, her earrings and boobs bounced, but her hair didn’t move. 

He remembered this was work and didn’t stare, but that was fascinating. A cheer went up and he glanced toward the arena floor. Whoever that cowboy was must have made his eight. “I like that sound.” 

“Daddy! Daddy, that cow’s butt is dirty!” 

He glanced over in time to see a shit-covered bull backside up on the big screen. Yay. 

“Yep, that’s pretty gross.” He shook his head and grinned at Jack’s wife. She had a name. He’d been introduced, but he couldn’t remember. “Kids.” 

“Aren’t they amazing? I have five at home, so I totally feel you.” She winked at Silas. “At least it’s not smell-o-vision, right?” 

Silas wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” 

“Did you get a drink, Jude? Oh, hey, Camilla. Things are starting to heat up out there, I think Jack has a seat for you.” 

Camilla. He would never have remembered that. David to the rescue. 

David leaned over close. “Apparently between the sections, they’ll send cowboys up to make nice and sign things, so that will be exciting.” 

“Oh yeah? A bunch of Wrangler butts. Should be a good time.” And a little too close for comfort. “Probably not the celebrity types though, right?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I’m just pleased that they are sending people up. It will go over well with the Texans, I think.” 

“Oh. For sure. Did you see Kevin’s email? He’s already gunning for more work with them.” David handed him a beer. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not sure bull riding is my thing. Most of these guys are just getting tossed.” 

“Sometimes it starts slow. It gets more exciting as the night goes on.” 

David raised a curious eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were a fan.” 

“I have…friends that ride. Had a friend. A while ago.” And it was time to shut his mouth. 

“Really? You? That’s—fascinating. Seriously. I wouldn’t have imagined.” David’s eyes went wide. 

“No, most people wouldn’t. It’s like you and your pre-grad school singing career.” He winked at David and held out his beer. “Cheers.” 

“Right. Cheers. That’s cool.” David rolled his eyes and looked out the window. “I’m going to go make sure everyone’s having a good time.” 

“Sounds good.” That worked like a charm. 

“Daddy, can we watch?” Silas had a huge hot dog in one hand and a Coke in the other. 

“Yes. Let me take that Coke.” He took it, and left it on the counter, trading it for a bottle of water instead and leading the way out to the leather-covered seats. “We’re watching in style, bud. Check it out.” 

“Whoa!” 

He let Silas choose where to sit and settled in next to him. 

“Have you ever been on a cow, Daddy? Do you think it hurts when they fall? How does the cow know what to do?” Silas was bright-eyed, watching everything from the gate pullers to the clown. 

“I haven’t been on one, but I can tell you that it definitely hurts when they fall.” He had no idea how the bulls knew what to do, but they definitely knew they had a job out there. 

He looked at the card that had been on his seat, which listed who was riding when, and scanned it, knowing he’d find the rider he was looking for. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about running into Rope Canutt again, because that was years ago. Another lifetime. But it had been less of a breakup and more of a fizzle, and he’d always felt badly for not ending it right. 

Apparently not badly enough to quit being a coward and pick up the phone, though. 

Rope was on the list, sure enough, in the fourth section of riders. Not at the end with the most famous guys, not at the beginning with the newbies, but in the middle. 

That wasn’t surprising; he knew Rope was retiring at the end of this season. Jude had been checking in over the years, watching him ride, following Rope’s career. Not like a hard-core fan, but with interest. At arm’s length. 

“Daddy!” A rider went down, the bullfighters doing their jobs, and Silas was out of his seat. 

He didn’t know that kid from a hole in the wall, but his heart started racing, and he gripped his fingers together to keep them from shaking. He made himself look away and just breathe, pretending to study the sheet on his lap, and after a few seconds he had everything under control. 

Okay. 

“All good, bud?” Jude picked up his beer and took a sip. 

“That was scary. Is he okay?” Silas glanced up at him, and he could see the hint of panic, just right there. 

Jude took Silas’s hand and pulled him back into his seat. “He’ll be fine. These cowboys are tough. They do this all the time. Did you get to see the bullfighters running that bull off? Pretty cool, huh?” He was the king of redirecting. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re brave, huh? Like you?” 

Well, that made him feel ten feet tall. “Even braver. Like you.” He put an arm around Silas’s shoulders and squeezed. Damn. It had been long enough that he hadn’t even thought about whether this would be hard for either of them. He decided that was mostly a good thing—there was a time when he’d thought about it constantly. 

Losing Nigel had been more than hard, closer to impossible, and he still wasn’t sure some days that he and Silas would be okay. 

They had to be, though. Especially Silas. “I heard there might be some cowboys coming up to do autographs, bud.” 

“Yeah? What will they sign?” 

“Anything you want. Maybe your program?” he suggested. 

“Can I get a picture too?” 

“Probably. I don’t see why not.” Silas wouldn’t be the only one wanting pictures. 

“That’s cool! A real cowboy, Daddy. We’re going to meet a real-life cowboy.” 

Okay, that smile was worth every second of this. “Awesome, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, awesome.” Silas grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “They’re going to go again. Are you ready?” 

Maybe? “Yes. Watch the gate.” He held on just as tight as the gate flew open and the bull leapt out. 

The cowboy flew off as soon as the bull cleared the gate. That was going to leave a bruise. 

“Oops.” He winced. 

“Ouch,” Silas said at the same time, and they looked at each other and laughed. 

“If it were easy everyone would do it, right?” 

“I guess so. I’d be scared, I think, to get up on one of those.” 

“I would too. That is definitely not a sport for me. Are you scared to watch too? We don’t have to if it’s not fun for you. It’s okay.” 

“No. I want to. I want to know how they do it.” That was his son—so interested in why and how things worked. 

“Okay.” He remembered watching Rope on event weekends, signing autographs. He complained about the adults sometimes, but never the kids. Maybe he could suck up his regret if… “Well, I think someone pretty cool is coming up in a bit. He’s a former champion, and he’s really good.” 

“Yeah? What’s his name? Do you know him? Is he nice?” Silas couldn’t figure out whether to look at him or the arena floor. 

“His name is Rope, and he is nice.” And fun and cocky and hot as hell. “I did know him a long time ago. Long before you and Dad, and even before I got my job.” He pointed to the floor. “Behind the gate, the rider is getting his rope all ready, the one that he holds onto. And the other guys are helping him get focused for his ride.” 

“So…he just holds onto the rope? He’s not tied in?” 

Silas was really thinking about this. It was kind of wonderful. “It’s wrapped really tight around a glove on his hand. He has to be able to let go so he can get off the bull. They can’t tie him in, right?” 

“No. No, that would be scary and dangerous, huh?” Look at those wide eyes. 

“That’s right. They do everything they can to make it less dangerous. You watch his head, and when you see him nod, the gate will open fast.” 

He remembered Rope, bragging in that way guys did at nineteen, telling him all about how everyone out there had a job to do. The guy pulling his rope, the guy holding his vest, the bullfighters, even the bull had a job. Eight seconds went by so fast everyone had to have their heads in the game. 

He got it a little bit, really. They’d broken up because they both had to have their heads in their respective games, and they couldn’t change that. 

Now that he was explaining things to Silas, he was starting to look forward to seeing Rope ride in person. 

“You’re going to have to have a cowboy explain all the spurring and the balance things… I don’t know much about how that’s done. I just know that the harder the ride, the higher the points.” 

“Don’t forget the bull is half the points. That’s real important.” 

Jude would know that voice anywhere. 

Anywhere. 

Rope Canutt stood there like a bent and broken angel, an ancient scar from a roping accident splitting the man’s lower lip. 

He stood and looked Rope over, finally meeting those green eyes that had fascinated him so long ago. He supposed he ought to see more age, but all he saw was the crooked smile and handsome face that he remembered. 

He had no idea what to say. 

And his mouth had gone dry anyway. 

He patted Silas’s shoulder. “Silas, this is Mister Canutt. He’s a bull rider.” 

Silas’s eyes grew wide. “For real?” 

“Yes, sir. For real. Rope, pleased to meet you, Silas. Are you enjoying the event?” Rope held his hand out to Silas, the smile warm. 

Jude had to smile back at the awed look on Silas’s face as his son shook hands with Rope. Silas nodded but didn’t say anything at all. 

“Silas is very curious about how it all works,” he offered, trying to help things along. 

“Well, you see them bulls? Stock contractors bring them up from all over the country. Buckin’ bulls are special types of livestock.” Rope kept jabbering, telling Silas how bull riding worked in that soft, lilting voice. 

Silas was riveted, listening to every word like it was so important. It was the first thing Silas had shown real interest in since they’d lost Nigel. 

“Can I see the bulls?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, bud. Rope is working, you know.” 

“Those beasts aren’t pets, but I might be able to introduce you to Harker’s horse, Jimbo, after the event.” 

“Really?” Silas’s eyes lit up. “Is that okay Daddy? Please? Can I?” 

He nodded. “If Rope can manage it, but you have to promise not to be upset if he can’t, okay?” Not that he really expected a seven-year-old to be able to keep a promise like that, but at least he could say he tried. 

“Okay! Thank you! Oh. I have to get a program so you can sign it!” Silas climbed right over the back of his seat and disappeared into the suite. 

“Harker won’t mind. He likes kids.” Rope held out his hand. “Jude.” 

“Rope.” He took the offered hand and shook it, grateful they’d had Silas as an ice breaker. “Thank you for all of that. It means more than you know.” 

“No problem. None at all. Good to see you, man.” He got this shit-eating grin. “You look fine.” 

“I was thinking the same about you.” He felt the tips of his ears heat up and he was surprised that Rope could still make him blush. “It’s nice to see you again. I’d ask how things are going, but I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” 

“Fixin’ to retire. Having my final year. Good stuff.” Rope smiled down at Silas and took a Sharpie out of his pocket, signing the program. “Here you go, little man. If you come down after the event, we’ll see Jimbo.” 

“Thank you!” Silas was so excited. 

“We’ll be there.” He wasn’t ready for Rope to walk away yet, but he wasn’t sure why. “Good ride.” 

“Every one you walk away from, yessir.” Rope shook Silas’s hand and his. “Looking forward to seeing y’all later.” 

He watched Rope go, enjoying the view of Rope’s ass in his Wranglers, and wondered if Rope was hoping he was watching.

Title: Roped In
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09VD8LB9T
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-72-7

Deviations: Domination

April 11, 2017 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 324

In this sequel to Deviations: Submission, Dom Tobias and Sub Noah are back, learning more about each other and their relationship, and testing the boundaries of what they can and can’t handle, both together and apart.

Tobias works at becoming more comfortable and finding his balance as a full-time Master again. His work brings out the true submissive in Noah, who faces some of his greatest fears, and his greatest secrets, finally confessing to Tobias about a terrible time in his past.

But Noah is not the only one who has a rough time. Tobias breaks down and shows Noah he's not all Dominance, too, which sends shockwaves through their romance, leaving them to wonder if they can hold onto their balance together.

Dominations is a deep exploration of the BDSM scene, with secondary characters who enhance the story and a central romance that has the reader rooting for Tobias and Noah to work through their obstacles and come out stronger.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

EXCERPT FROM DOMINATION

Wednesday. It had been a long, drawn-out week, and Tobias couldn't believe it was still only Wednesday.

He'd had a full day, out of town as usual in the morning, helping a mare to foal. She threw a beautiful dark bay colt that presented very much like his particularly handsome sire, and Tobias had considered making a bid for him right then and there but restrained himself. He was already training Noah; he didn't need another colt to complicate their weekends. Things were busy enough in his life without adding a new horse to his stables, a new responsibility to his already full plate.

In the few weeks since he'd met Noah at his club, Tobias had swung from one rush of feeling to another. Sexually, they were more than compatible, Noah's natural submissive tendencies meshing well with Tobias' own need to dominate. It went deeper than just mere sex, however, and in very short order Tobias and Noah had signed a six-month contract binding them together in a more tangible power exchange.

It was serious, it was important, and it was very heady. Tobias found almost all of his time taken up with thinking about his new submissive, lost in plans and a fair number of daydreams. It made his hours working as a large animal veterinarian seem almost relaxing by comparison. He only hoped that Noah's daydreams were confined to when he wasn't in his patrol car -- a police officer with his mind on his relationship wasn't good for anyone.

When Tobias walked in the door of his uptown condo, he set his keys down on the hall table and hit the play button on the answering machine as he pulled off his boots. After a long beep a rich male voice began to speak. ''Hello, Tobias, it's Bradford. I haven't seen you or your boy around the club in nearly a month. I trust this is a good sign? I'd like to get together and hear about how things are going. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am checking up on you; don't get your knickers in a twist, friend, it's just that... well, I worry. Oh, thank you for sending me a copy of your contract, I've put that in your files. Give me a call, Tobias, and let's have dinner. I'd like to catch up.''

Tobias sighed ruefully and nodded to himself. On some level he'd expected the call, though he hadn't really thought about it in terms of Bradford checking up on them. Still, it wouldn't be a trial to talk about Noah and where things stood at the moment; in fact, he'd welcome another perspective. He had a plan for the weekend and it might be a good idea to talk it over with someone who knew them both.

After stopping in the kitchen long enough to determine that he needed to order out for dinner, Tobias picked up the phone and called Bradford's direct line at the club. If the man didn't pick up, he'd at least be able to leave a message.

''Hello?'' Bradford was a man who'd done very, very well for himself. Part of his success was due to the fact that he could always be relied upon to respect the anonymity and privacy of his members and guests. Case in point, he never answered the phone with his own name or the name of the club, just a simple, discreet greeting, giving away nothing until he knew who was on the other end of the line.

''Good evening, Bradford,'' Tobias said with a smile. ''I got your message, Mother.''

''Ah, sonny-boy, so good to hear from you.'' Bradford snorted. ''Don't give me that crap, Tobias. I set the two of you up, you're both important members, and I want to know how it's going for you. That's called integrity, hmm? Trust me, I haven't a maternal bone in my body.''

Tobias grinned, not buying it for a moment. ''Sure. Whatever you say. You can stop worrying, though; things are fine.'' He crossed to the big window in his living room and looked out at the city lights, counting blocks until he found Noah's.

'''Fine' is such a drab, generic word, Tobias. Tell me what you really mean,'' Bradford encouraged.

''I mean... fine. Good. Great. He's coming along nicely; we've established a base level trust, I think.'' He turned and leaned on the window sill, facing the room. ''He had dinner with Phantom last week.'' Tobias resisted the urge to cringe at the thought of the two men, his new lover and his past lover, chatting happily over dinner. They both tended toward the unpredictable, and that worried him.

''Oh, yes, I know he did. That's part of the reason for my call. I gather it went well? Phan thought he was 'hot.''' Bradford loved gossip and made himself privy to all the rumors around the club. At first glance one might call it catty, but Tobias knew better -- he was simply protecting his own.

''It seemed to go well. Noah was fine when I saw him later. Calm, steady... he seemed to think Phan was -- look, how deep do you want to go here? I'd rather do this in person if you're looking for a long debrief. If you're just needing quiet assurances, both Noah and I are fine. The weekends are going well, and we're in touch through the week as well.''

Tobias knew as soon as he spoke that he'd sounded snappish and protective and that Bradford wouldn't miss it. The trouble was, he wasn't sure why he suddenly felt like pulling back -- and that meant he needed to talk it out. He sighed. ''Damn circular logic,'' he muttered.

''Tobias,'' Bradford sighed and made a clicking sound with his tongue. ''Be my guest tomorrow night for dinner. Here. What would you like to eat? I'll make sure it's prepared for you.''

Tobias rolled his eyes, safely several miles out of Bradford's view. ''Something gentle. Linguini in clam sauce?'' He hoped the tacit acceptance would be enough.

''Done. I look forward to seeing you, Tobias, it's been long enough,'' Bradford said softly, and Tobias could practically hear the man's very genuine smile.

He found himself smiling in reply. ''I'll see you tomorrow night, old friend. Around seven, I think.'' He hung up and turned once more to look out over the city, watching the cars cruise along Lincoln, toward downtown and Noah.

Title: Domination
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0839M66Z6
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-19-2

 

Domination is available in AUDIO!
Purchase it at Audible, iTunes & Amazon!

 

 

Domination is available in FRENCH!
Purchase it from Juno Publishing directly,
or on Amazon, 7switch, or Kobo!

 

Find Jodi's full catalog with links to all your favorite formats at Queeromance Ink!

Cowboy Protection

November 2, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne & BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: 11/22/22
Pages: 256

Maverick “Mackey” Keyes keeps the rodeo cowboys safe on his watch and he knows how to make his bullfighting team walk the line. He might be starting to feel his years, but he’s a pro, and he’s not afraid of anything that might happen on the arena floor.

Sidney Scott knows how to go with the flow, so when his dream job passes him by, he grabs the chance to work the bull riding circuit as a TV producer. He’s going to do the job right, traveling with the show, even if he hears some rumbling from the riders.

Mackey and Sid butt heads more than once, but when it really counts, they manage to get on the same page. When Mackey is injured, Sid steps up to help, and things take a far more personal turn. They might have been able to ignore the growing attraction between them at work, but a long road trip over the Christmas holiday and time away from the other cowboys lets them find something together that neither of them expect, but both of them need.

Cowboy Protection is an opposites attract, rodeo romance featuring a bullfighter and a corporate suit, with a side of holiday magic.

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Also in this series:

 

Chapter 1 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy! I was staring at your truck.” Maverick Keyes leaned against his wheel well and grinned as Grainger and Hayden tumbled out of their shiny new Dodge, the twins all arms and legs and goofy grins. “Lord have mercy, y’all. You two have a good July break?” 

“Yes, sir!” Grainger said, giving him a wide grin. “Me and Hayden are ready to work, though. Momma was fixin’ to toss our happy asses out the damn door.” 

“She sent you some chow chow, says to say thank you for raising us, Mackey.” 

“Shee-it. I’m just trying to get you boys killed.” He’d been worried about taking them on if he was honest, which he was, if only to himself. Twenty was a wild time, and two twenties somehow worked out to the smarts of a single eighteen. Still, him and Tommy had talked on it, and the twins were strong, fearless, and focused on the dirt, so he’d hired them. Now they had a solid team, with Fabiano there to work as an alternate. It had only taken about a year. 

“Promises, promises.” Jack Boers wandered up, smacking one of the boys on the shoulder. “Lord have mercy, ain’t it fixin’ to come up a cloud?” 

Lord love a duck, Jack was a hot bastard with his silver hair and his deep eye lines. They’d knocked boots more than once, but Jack was a horndog that needed something Mackey wasn’t, so they’d decided ten some odd years ago to be the hand job type of friends. Still, he was the best buddy a man could have, and one hell of a safety man to boot. 

“It’s gonna pour, and my knees say it’s gonna be a gullywhomper.” He’d been enjoying the summer, but even in the south, September was whispering about autumn. “You seen Tommy?” 

“No, sir. I seen y’all and Ollie when I unloaded the horses. That’s it.” 

Mackey stuck his tongue out at Jack. “Grab your gear, boyos. Warm-up is in an hour. Don’t be late.” 

The twins saluted him and ran off, spending more energy than he had in his whole self. 

Mackey shook his head. “It’s hell getting old.” 

“No shit on that, cowboy. We having steaks after the show? I’m starving.” 

“Yessir.” First though, he needed to call Tommy and find out where the Aussie was. “You staying at the host hotel tonight?” 

“Shit yes. I love casino hotels. They suit me to the ground. I’ll see you in the arena, Mack-Daddy.” Jack patted his butt and wandered off. 

He grabbed his phone, punching the second number on his favorites, after Jack and before the twins’ momma, and waited for the son of a bitch to answer. 

“Oi, I’m coming. You’re such a mother hen.” 

“Uh-huh. You’re late.” He always told Tommy to be somewhere an hour before he was supposed to show. 

“Now, Mother. You and I both know I’m not. I’ll be there. I was having a lick of fun.” 

“Don’t.” He didn’t want to hear about whatever Tommy was doing or with who. That bastard just had to grin and twinkle those blue eyes and men and women alike opened their legs like they had a button. “Just come on.” 

“You want a cherry limeade? I’ll fix you up, Mother.” 

Oh lord have mercy, Tommy knew how to make him happy. “Make it a big one. Extra cherries.” 

“For you, mate, always.” 

Mackey hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Sorry son of a bitch. 

“Mackey, everything good?” 

God, but he hated that voice. Cody Roberts was the president of the league, voted in by the cowboys running shit, and his direct line to God, from what he understood. “Right as rain.” 

“Don’t talk about rain, buddy. It’s going to pour.” 

“Bulls don’t mind mud, and the arena’s covered. We’re good.” Only one he stressed was Jack, and his mare Princess was sure-footed as fuck. 

“Still, crowds don’t like it. They want sunshine.” 

Shit, they wanted wrecks, cowboy butts, and at least one great ride. The fans gave no shits about the other. “Yes, sir.” 

“Your team all present?” 

“Yes, sir. All checked in.” Mostly. In theory. 

“Good man. Have a good show. You ready for your TV spot?” 

“Yup.” Not even a bit. He’d just ramble on about how Sparkle Night always turned right and make faces at Danny behind the lens. “You putting Stock on live?” 

He made sure not to smile a bit. Stockard Manning was the clown, was in contract negotiations, and was possibly the meanest motherfucker on earth. They got along like a house afire. 

Stock and live TV? Not so much. 

“Fuck you, Mackey.” Cody did chuckle though. “Get to work, bud.” 

“Always working, sir.” 

Always. And his body knew it. Still, he had his team, new sneakers, good pain pills, and a cherry limeade on the way. 

It was fixin’ to be a good day.

Title: Cowboy Protection
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0BG3DZCHC

Special Delivery — A Wrecked Holiday Novel

October 30, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: East Meets Western #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: November 24, 2020
Pages: 192

And baby makes three?
It’s fall in Vermont. The holidays are coming, the leaves are turning brilliant colors, and Skyler and Beckett are expecting a baby! They’re picking out furniture and paint colors for the nursery. They’re looking at ultrasounds and choosing names.
But nothing is ever simple for these two, and something they’re not expecting throws a wrench--or a great big crowbar--into Beck’s carefully planned paternity leave and Sky’s nursery decorations. But is it a disaster, a blessing, or both?
As with all deliveries, they’re at the mercy of fate and mother nature. They’ll be adding to their family—but they’ll be doing it in the most chaotic way possible.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Smashwords

Also in this series:
Cover for Cowboy for Sale, featuring a man in a cowboy hat wearing a checkered shirt.

 

Chapter One

 

“Thank you, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. No, sir, I’m retired. Nice to meet you, sir. Hey, kiddo, I like your hat.”

Skyler had spent ten days doing publicity to support his annual Vermont invitational bull riding event that happened every spring. It was a big hit with the locals, and it drew folks from all over the country too, which made him popular in Burlington. He’d been shaking hands and signing shit like hats and programs, nodding, making goofy faces at babies, and pretending he was jealous that all the young guys were still riding.

Thank goodness for Danny, last spring’s champ, and one of those younger riders. Danny was great at pulling people in, had three times his energy, and was eager to please.

With Danny’s help, he’d secured sponsors and spread around a lot of good energy. But now he was sore, tired, and grumpy and ready to get home to his man and his critters. Flying, even in first class, was less than fun, and he had a husband waiting for him.

He finished his tomato juice and watched the orange and yellow trees. Pretty pretty.

The seat next to him was empty, which he appreciated, and he just wanted to rest until they landed. He knew Beckett was ready for him to get home too. They had to start doing the dance of his next exhibition.

This one would be number three, for chrissake. Number three in the spring, and Lord willing and the creek didn’t rise, there’d be three of them too.

Lord help him. Miss Angie had caught pregnant straightaway; one time with the turkey baster, and she was ready to go. Beckett had done good homework. Whatever service he’d found hooked them right up—he’d just made a donation in a cup, and now their little one was cooking. They would be busy as all get out come the event.

“Sir, can you put your seat back up, please?” The stewardess was a pretty girl, all big black eyes and warm smile.

“Surely.” He put the deal up, and then they were landing in short order. Lord have mercy, he was ready for this. As soon as they hit the ground, he turned his phone on.

It led to a bunch of texts.

Miss you.

Did you make your flight?

Are you home yet? I want to get my arms around you. That one was followed by a string of eggplants.

Please. Home btw. Yay.

Hey, husband. Where are you?

Pulling up to the gate. Be heading your way soon. Sky leaned a little hard on his cane when he stood, but he got his bag down without toppling over, or losing his hat, which was a win.

Beck caught sight of him before he made it off the escalator, and hurried his way. “Oh, my God! It’s Skyler Paulson! Can I get an autograph?”

“You got a buck?” He winked at Beck, one arm sliding around his lover’s back as he stepped off. It still felt bold as all get out to touch in public.

“I’m fresh out of bucks.” Beck caught him up, taking some of his weight off his hip and hugged him tight. “You good? Welcome home.”

“Thanks. Glad to be here.” They headed for baggage claim to wait. “How’s your week been?”

“Busy. I hated not coming with you, but…you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Important man.”

Beck let him lean a little bit more, handing off his phone. “Hey, did you see this yet? Angelica sent it a couple of hours ago. She had some weird cramping, and they sent her for an ultrasound.” Beckett’s hand tucked tighter around his waist. “She’s fine. The baby is fine. She had…Braxton Hicks…or something. Fakey contractions. No big deal. But isn’t our little Sky-ling perfect? The baby looks more like a baby and less like a blob this time.”

His husband sounded so damn proud.

“Is she okay? Does she need anything?” Sky’s heart raced at the thought of anything happening to either Angie or their wee one.

“She said she’s fine. She was a little worried, but she’s not anymore. I have a brief to get out, but maybe you could stop by with some of that ice cream she likes tomorrow and check in on her?”

“Sure.” God, no. He wanted to sleep. Still, no rest for the wicked.

Beck grinned at him, eyes twinkling. “And so it begins, huh? Pretty soon I’ll be on paternity leave.”

“You’ll be a man of leisure,” he teased back. He’d never even heard of paternity leave, but it worked for them, yessir.

“Leisurely not sleeping, you mean?” Beck kept both hands on the wheel but cut his eyes over to Sky. “I think it’s time to put the nursery together. Order some furniture and all that. Paint. Pick some names.”

“Okay. I’m good at putting shit together.” He liked the whole idea of painting that little room, making it all fun and somewhere a baby belonged.

“So for boys I’m thinking Ozzy, or Axl…or maybe Mick,” Beck grinned over at him. “Jimi? Elvis?”

“I will hurt you. No weird-assed names for my baby. Tanner, Dalton, Sterling, Stetson?”

“Stetson? Reel it in, cowboy.” Beck laughed. “I like Dalton, though.”

“Cheyenne if she’s a girl?” He liked Cheyenne. “Or Dallas. Denver is unisex…”

Beck raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the map names? You’re not even from any of those places.”

“What are your ideas, then? Lita? Madonna? Scary?”

“Ooh, Madonna.” For a horrifying second, he thought maybe Beck was serious. “Scarlett. Violet. Hazel…or if you’re not into colors maybe ice cream flavors. Vanilla, Raspberry…” Beckett was having way too much fun.

“Uh-huh. Brittany? Oakley? Shenandoah?”

“Shenandoah is kind of a mouthful, huh?” Beck snorted. “I’ll play along. Charlotte? Elizabeth? Sierra?”

“I like Elizabeth and Sierra both.” Actually, he thought they were beautiful. “Sierra Elizabeth. I like that.”

“Oh. Sierra Elizabeth Paulson-Adler. That’s nice.” Beck reached over and squeezed his hand.

“It is!” Oh, one down, one to go. “Dalton MacKenzie after Mackey?”

Beck nodded. “Yes. After Mackey. Perfect.”

“Wow.” He looked over at his Beck. “That was easy. I missed you all week, bad.”

Beck nodded as he pulled into the driveway. “Yeah. I was waiting on that until we got home.” Even in the dark, he could see all the bushes in front had been trimmed and the garden beds were mulched for winter. Someone had been keeping himself busy this week. “And now we’re home, so…” Beck parked the Jeep and shut it off, then pulled him closer by his shirt and kissed him hard.

The world stopped for a second, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Oh, thank fuck, that was perfect. He reached up and cupped Beckett’s jaw, giving in to the pressure of those hungry lips.

Beckett kissed him until he could only gulp air, before letting him go. “Okay. You’re home.” Beck took a deep, heavy breath, jumped out of the Jeep, and came around to his side. “Now I can breathe. It’s hard without you here.”

“I’m home. I’m tired, but so fucking happy.” Oh, the dog was losing his mind. Sky could hear him. He thought maybe he heard Walter too, meowing under the barking and howling.

“I’m not the only one who missed you. Bruiser’s had his nose to that window for days, and Walter’s been sulking.” Beck scooped Sky right out of his seat and into his arms. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, lover. Tell me I don’t have to leave again forever.” He rubbed their noses together, laughing at his weird codependence. Still, since they’d decided to have a baby, he found himself ready to nail his shoes to the floor.

“Never, ever.” That was a lie and they both knew it, but it felt good to believe it right now. Beck carried him to the front door and set him down. “I’ll get your suitcase. Don’t let the furballs knock you over.”

He braced himself and opened the door, Bruiser hitting him like a ton of bricks. “Oh, my puppy. Has Walter been mean to you, you giant beast?”

Bruiser howled and moaned, telling him all about it, and all the while Walter was staring at him, tail twitching. Uh-oh.

“Bruiser! Down, boy. Inside, go on.” Beck stepped around him and shooed the dog inside, then dropped his suitcase in the foyer. “Hey, Walt. Look who’s home.” Beck ran a hand over Walter’s back and up the length of the cat’s furry tail. “You want a beer? Should I order pizza?”

“Yes, and God, yes.” He toed his boots off, putting them beside the door. “I brought you a present from Vegas.”

“A present?” Beck pulled out his phone and Sky knew the pizza would be on its way shortly. His husband loved the whole ordering by app thing. “You mean other than the gift of finally having you here where I can touch you?”

“Yep, although that’s pretty cool.” He dug out the two bags. The first was a crazy mobile from one of the Cirque stores for the baby—the whole thing made from goofy little polka-dotted monsters. The second was another Venetian mask for the dining room. He’d been buying them for Beck for ages.

Beck’s eyes lit up as he turned the mask over in his hands. “Oh, look at this one! A devil. Those horns…I love it, Sky.” Beck kissed him and ducked into the dining room. “Where should we put it? I’ll hang it tomorrow.”

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it. I thought it went well with the winged one from last year.”

“Yes. That’s where we’ll put it.” Beck held it up on the wall near the winged mask. “Here.”

Walter howled at them from the doorway like he was possessed.

“Uh-oh.”

“Do you not want it there, Walt?” He needed the kitty treats. Stat.

Walter glowered at him, still as stone except for a jerky twitch of his tail.

“There’s a can of tuna on the counter,” Beck whispered, angling his head toward the kitchen.

“You are a gentleman and a scholar.” He went and popped the can open. “Come here, sexy one.”

Walter hesitated, but only for a second before waltzing into the kitchen with his head held high and his tail flagging. Bruiser followed, but Sky knew all he wanted was kisses. Walter required bribery.

He hand-fed his best bud with tuna, whispering to him about how he’d missed him most of all. Christ, he was owned.

Walter purred and devoured the offering, stopping every so often to trill at him and rub against his fingers. Beck distracted Bruiser with love and a chew toy, keeping the big fluff-ball out of their way.

“Walter won’t admit it, but while you were gone…he slept with the dog again.” Beck whispered the last bit. “On your side of the bed. Just like last time.”

“Oh, he’s my good buddy, you know. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” Walter had been there from the time he’d separated off from Beck, hopping right into his truck like he belonged there.

“Come get off that hip.” Beck waited for him to wash the tuna off his fingers, handed him a beer, and led him to the sofa. “Now that all the animals have said hello, you think we can make out until the pizza gets here?”

Someone had missed him bad. “This is a marvelous fucking idea.”

He took a drag of his beer, then pulled Beckett in for a hard kiss.

Beckett set his beer down with a loud thud on the table and held him with both hands. One of them caught him by the nape and the other gripped his shoulder as if making sure he were real. His husband’s kiss was reassuring, but he could feel the rough need around the edges, the heat barely under control. He smiled against Beckett’s lips, and found the heavy, denim-covered cock, rubbing nice and hard.

Damn, it was good to be wanted, to be desired. Craved, even.

“Sky.” Beck had never been shy about what he wanted. Beck groaned and shifted, spreading to give Sky more access. Sky nodded, working open Beck’s fly so he could fish out that sweet cock.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Beck dropped a hand low, trying to reach his fly but couldn’t quite, so those hot fingers teased along his waistband instead.

“All day?” He stroked, base to tip, fingertip working the head. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you.”

Beck nodded, eyes starting to glaze over. “All week. But today, once I knew you were on that plane…” Beck pulled him into another kiss and rocked up into his fingers.

Someone wasn’t going to have to sleep alone tonight, and he was getting laid too.

He dove into the kiss, humming into Beckett’s mouth.

Beck shifted again stretching out and pulling Sky down on top of him, panting softly. Both hands worked his fly open. They’d never quite outgrown the appeal of rubbing off together. “This okay…on the hip?”

“Uh-huh. ’S okay. Want you.” He got them lined up, just right. “Good?”

“So good.” Beck’s hands landed on his ass as he bucked up off the couch. “You…missed me, huh?”

“Every friggin’ second.” That was clear, right? “Every breath.”

“Yeah.” Beck nodded, breathing hard and hauling on his ass. The couch was creaking ominously, which would have been funny if they hadn’t been so fucking focused.

They didn’t have time to linger, either. That pizza was coming, and they didn’t need to answer the door covered in spunk.

Beck shoved one hand between them and tightened it around both of their cocks, sweetening the friction. “Ready, baby?” Beck squeezed, giving him something to work against.

“Fuck!” He arched hard, driving them harder, pre-come slicking the way. “Beck. Beck, right there.”

“Good, yeah? I’ve got you.” Beck looked up at him, deep brown eyes holding his. “Close.”

“Yes. Love you.” More than anything on earth. He dove back into the kiss, both of them working together to get off.

“Mm. Mmm!” Most of Beck’s shout was muffled by his lips, and Beck broke the kiss long enough to get a breath as wet heat spread between them. He followed right behind, only needing a stroke or two more.

He blinked at his lover, swaying a little, heart pounding hard. “Wow.”

Beck chuckled and gave him a drunk-looking smile. “Always wow with you.”

“No shit on that.” He nibbled Beckett’s bottom lip, as lazy as he could be.

“Love you, Stud.” Beck kissed him, then rolled him suddenly, dropping him gently on the couch. “Let me clean up for the pizza guy. You relax.” Beck had his shirt off before he’d even left the room.

Damn, he loved how Beck moved, like it was still easy. He envied that a little, but he liked watching it more. It was good to be home.

 

Title: Special Delivery
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08MZ7GMFW

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The Trouble with Cowboys

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Sin Deep Series #2
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: February 6, 2024

When Kacey Lowe shows up at his friend Sam’s place in New York, it’s because he has nowhere else to go. He’s lost his shot as a bullrider, and he’s beat up as anything to boot. He doesn’t want to impose on Sam, and he and his buddy tend to get into trouble together anyway. That’s how he ends up at River’s place.

River McIntyre doesn’t really understand Kacey, but he wants to help the tough little cowboy with whatever demons he’s wrestling. He’s not sure he can, and he’s not sure Kacey can be everything he needs, but he sees past Kacey’s pain and insecurities, and knows they could have something special together if they can just figure it out.

The trouble with cowboys, River finds out, is that they might be speaking a different language than a city man like him. But if they can meet in the middle somewhere, it will be worth all the effort.

The Trouble with Cowboys is set in The Cowboy and the Dom universe and features a hurt-comfort, opposites attract, D/s romance in New York City.

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Chapter 1 

 

“Come on, man. Answer your fucking phone.” 

Kacey Lowe tried hard to know certain shit—one, where his boots were, two, where his phone was, and three, where he was going to be able to sleep in a world that had little to no use for a broke-dick bullrider. He had two out of three. 

Now Kacey needed a couch to surf. 

Sam O’Reilly would let him stay, have a little fun, and not ask too many questions about the bruises, why he was in New York, and what the hell he was going to do next. 

“’lo?” O’Reilly sounded drunk. “Who’s this?” 

“Kacey. How you been?” He could handle drunk. 

“Fine as frog hair. Where the hell are you?” 

“Um… Times Square, I think. I’m pretty sure.” The place was so lit up it felt like daytime. 

“Like in the city?” 

“Well, I am totally in a city. The New York one.” The last ride was a flower delivery dude. He’d been cool, and they’d shared a spliff. 

“What? When? Why? How?” 

That was a lot of questions in a row. Sam hadn’t changed a bit. “In New York. Now. Because of life and things, and really fucking slow?” 

“Wait. Hang on.” The music in the background faded away, and Sam got back on the line with more questions. “Okay. Did you get hurt? How did you get here? Where are you staying?” 

He couldn’t answer the first two questions without opening a can of worms. “I was sorta hoping you’d have a couch I could use for a day or two while I’m visiting.” 

Or until he got his bell unrung. 

Sam O’Reilly had been his mentor on the arena floor when he was a junior, and the man had been fun to hang with the few times they’d been together on the circuit. 

“Yeah, of course. Not many of us with couches up here, huh?” He heard street noises as Sam put him on speaker. “I’m texting you the address. We’re not home… uh… I’ll just see if I can convince Mister—Thomas—to make it an early night.” 

“Is it a bad time? I can wait ’til tomorrow, dude.” He could walk around for hours, no problem. He had enough cash to eat for damn near a year, if he was careful, and he would do near anything to win a bet, so… 

“Right. Just stay on the street tonight, and I’ll see you after breakfast.” Sam snorted. “Get your ass over there. Tell the doorman you’re a friend of mine, and he’ll let you wait in the lobby. We’ll be there in a little bit.” 

“You sure, man? I know this is a surprise.” 

“Shut up. See you in an hour, give or take.” 

Oh, thank God. Kacey sucked in a deep breath. “Thanks, man. Just a day or two.” 

“Yeah, while you’re in town.” 

Okay. He had himself a place to stay. If he remembered right, Sam liked a bar so he might get to have some fun too, while he figured out what to do next. He looked at the text—he could walk forty blocks in an hour, right? 

If not, he’d text and say he was running late. He was good at that. 

He set his GPS and started beating feet. 

Lord have mercy this place was wild. Maybe a guy could have some fun here… 

He found the address and slowed down as he moved up the block. The building was big. And tall. Really fucking tall. There was a big white awning held up by gold posts and a dude in a jacket and hat hanging out near the front door and watching him as he got closer. 

“Move on,” the guy said in a deep voice as he slowed down even more. 

“I got me an invitation from a friend.” He wasn’t going nowhere. “Sam O’Reilly. You know him?” 

“Mhm.” The guy nodded. “You’re friends?” 

He arched one eyebrow, trying hard not to be a bitch. “Yessir. We rode together in Texas, couple times in Vegas.” 

“Understood. What’s your name?” 

“Kacey Lowe.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Lowe. Mr. O’Reilly isn’t at home. You can wait inside if it’s cold out here for you.” 

“That would rock. Thank you. It’s damn chilly.” He held out one hand to shake, but the dude stopped before grabbing his fingers. 

Oh. Right. 

They were a little tore up from the last fight, and that one finger was…wonky. 

“You’re definitely a friend of Sam’s.” They clasped hands gently, the door guy shaking his head. 

“Yessir. Since I was a teenager, you know? He’s wild as anything.” And a great drinking buddy. “I’m looking forward to hanging with him.” 

“Mm. Wild.” The guy waved an arm and the doors slid open. “There’s a pot of coffee behind the desk.” 

“Thank you, sir. I do appreciate it.” He headed in and grabbed a cup of coffee, heavy on the sugar and creamer. 

Calories were good. They kept a man warm. 

He hadn’t gotten one sip down before Sam came through the door, followed by a tall, handsome, very… hot…uh. Had he mentioned tall? 

“Kacey.” Sam came right to him with a smile. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“Sam.” Damn, Sam looked so good. Healthy. Strong. Almost like a grown-up. Weird. “I missed your skanky ass, man.” 

“Hey now, I’ve cleaned it up a little since you saw me last.” Sam gave him a hug, and he was proud of himself for not wincing. “You look good.” 

“You appear to have been in a fight,” Mr. Handsome said. Was that a growl? 

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Kacey, this is Thomas.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand. Again. “And I swear, I haven’t been in a fight.” 

He’d been in a few dozen. 

Thomas took his hand, but not to shake it. He looked at it critically, turned it palm-side up and back again, then sighed. “You need to get some ice on that. I think I might have a splint for the finger. Come on upstairs.” 

“Dude, seriously? What the hell happened?” Sam grinned at him. “Tell me it was fun, at least?” 

“I wish I could, cowboy.” 

Thomas led them to the elevator, and when the big, shiny doors opened, they all got on. Thomas was… not really staring but looking him over. It was weird, but it wasn’t creepy. 

Sam nodded to him and rested a hand on his arm. “I’ll make us coffee.” 

Oh god, don’t leave me with him. “I’ll help.” 

“It’s no pr—” 

“I’ll so help.” Helping, helping, la la la. 

“Let him help.” Why did it feel like Thomas could see right into his soul? God, that was unnerving. 

“So… this is your… roommate?” He didn’t read like a roommate. More like a grumpy fuckbuddy. Possibly a sugar daddy. 

Dude. 

Dude. 

Did Sam have a sugar daddy? He had a decent belly, but he was a little un-twinkly and sparkly. In Vegas, boys like that had glitter. 

Thomas laughed as they stepped off the elevator but didn’t answer the question. “I thought you said he was a good friend, Sam?” 

“He is. He’s a rodeo buddy. He was a junior rider that I mentored.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “Thomas here, he’s my lover. My guy. My… person, huh? If you’re not cool with that…” 

“Dude. I know you’re into dick. I just didn’t know you were into…” Big growly dudes with biker boots and a fancy apartment. “Permanent guys.” 

“Yes, he’s permanently into my dick.” Thomas was still chuckling as he opened the apartment door. 

“Kinky,” he whispered. 

Sam started chuckling, the sound started soft and built. 

And built. 

And built. 

Thomas leaned close to Sam and kissed his forehead. “I’m not touching that.” 

Sam led him toward an open kitchen, and Thomas went the other way down a long hall. 

“Lord, he’s a biggun. Pretty, though.” That seemed the most polite. 

“He’s amazing. I’ve never been happier.” Sam started making coffee. “What the fuck happened to you? And don’t say nothing, because I’m neither blind nor stupid.” 

“Did you just say ‘nor’?” 

“Neither… nor…” Sam shot him a look. “I asked you a question.” 

“It’s a long story, but the short version is, got dumped, got outed, lost my sponsors, got reminded that I ain’t supposed to be in Texas.” Hell of a short version. 

Sam puffed out a breath and went back to making coffee. “I’ve heard that story before. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Just been traveling. Seeing stuff. Wandering. I looked you up—sorry about your brother, by the way.” 

Sam nodded, took a deep breath. “Thanks. It was tough, but we caught the son of a bitch.” 

“That’s good. I hope he got what he deserved.” 

“Neosporin, band-aids, ice pack, Tylenol, and one finger splint.” Thomas appeared and set everything down on the counter one by one, then held out a hand palm-up. “Will you let me see?” 

Oh, how decent was that? Pretty damned, if you asked him. He held up one of his hands. They hurt pretty good, and that one finger needed something to encourage it not to fall off. 

He wasn’t a damn roper, after all. 

“Hm. I’ll be careful.” For the next few minutes, Thomas gently cleaned his hands up with damp cotton balls and covered the one bad cut with the cream and a band-aid. Thomas’s hands were warm, and those fingers moved over his skin like… like he cared. 

And the man never growled once. 

Okay, weird. Again. “Thanks. Seriously. I’ll slam the finger in the splint, if it grosses you out.” 

It grossed him out some, but it was easier to just do it, right? 

“Pfft.” Thomas shook his head. “I have a brother who has broken this finger three times, and several others more than once. Fists and walls don’t mix well.” There was a blinding light, and he was dizzy for a few seconds, and when he could see again, Thomas was wrapping tape around the splint to keep it in place. 

“Whiskey?” Sam asked, and he groaned. 

“Fuck me yes.” All the whiskey. 

“Rock on.” 

“You didn’t faint, and you didn’t lose your balance. You’re like my Sam.” He wasn’t sure how to read Thomas’s smile, but the man rested his hand on the counter and gave it a gentle pat. It was weirdly… what? Parental? Something. “All good.” 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate this. I’ll be on my way in a day or two. I just wanted to get a face-to-face with Sam-I-Am.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, shook his head. “I swear to God, Kacey. You carry trouble like a landed bass.” 

“I sure do try, yessir.” 

Thomas took Sam by the chin and kissed him. “I’ll leave you two to talk, sweetheart. Good night.” 

“See you in a bit, Mister.” Sam poured two coffees, calm as all get out. “Are the hands the worst of it?” 

“Nah.” No, the worst of it was in his soul, and what could he do about that now? He’d thought Mitch and him, they’d had something workable. Something nice, even, but when they’d been caught, Mitch had said he wasn’t willing. He’d never forced no one to do anything. Not ever. 

But that didn’t matter, and that wasn’t something he was ever gonna talk about. That secret belonged to him. 

Sam gave him a knowing smile, which didn’t hurt so bad, coming from him. “I didn’t reckon. The core shots are the ones that are the worst. Come on. Let’s sit and bullshit a minute.” 

Core shots. He hated that Sam seemed to know something he didn’t want to tell. 

“That I can do. I’m full of bullshit.” His laugh didn’t make that funny like it should have. 

“We all are. Sometimes, we find the thing that we need to empty us out.” 

That was damn near deep, and he didn’t believe it for a second. “Whatcha doing with yourself these days, buddy?” 

Sam shrugged, cheeks pinking. “Believe it or not, I got my damn PhD. I teach. I write books…” 

“Cool, man. That’s… wild.” Kacey felt himself shrink inside. Sam O’Reilly had retired, become a professor, wrote books. He wasn’t broke dick, but he had a couple thousand bucks, his boots, his phone, and a single silver buckle. Fuck, he needed to find another place to go. 

“Totally is. How’d you end up here?” 

Kacey curated what he wanted to tell Sam, and he finally settled on, “I was in Columbus, and the guys were heading west, so I came over. I was on a bus, googling, and happened on your name. Thought if I came here, I’d look your happy ass up.” 

Sam took a slow sip of his coffee, then looked at him. “Why not go home?” When he didn’t answer, Sam added, “Rough weather?” 

“Yeah. My folks—” He waved one hand, because he didn’t know what say. He watched the coffee wave in his cup, back and forth, and finally words just fell out of his lips. “I fucked up, Sam. Bad. There ain’t no coming home from that.” 

Sam set his cup down. “Shit, Kace. Are you in trouble? We know people…” 

He shook his head, even as he desperately wanted to nod. “No. No, I ain’t here to fuck your life. I just need a day or two to rest, yeah? Then I’ll go traveling again.” 

“I’m telling you we can help. You rest, get your head right, but you think about it.” 

“Thanks for answering your phone.” He needed a friend, a minute to breathe. 

“Thanks for trusting me, man. Drink your coffee and breathe. You’re safe here.” Sam winked at him. “Thomas is way more badass than he looks.” 

“Is he a teacher too?” Kacey was betting on librarian more than teacher. 

“No, no. He’s the head curator for the Metropolitan Museum.” Sam sounded proud. 

“Damn.” Sam had just left his whole world behind like dust. “Good on y’all.” 

He didn’t even know what the hell he was going to do to make money. He needed to google canned rodeos. 

Mechanical bull competitions. 

Daredevil shows. 

“You’ll figure it out. I was lost when I got here, and I couldn’t go back home. This is home now.” 

“I’m tickled shitless for you. You got work tomorrow?” You want to go find some trouble with an old friend? 

“I’m not teaching. I can skip a day of writing to hang, sure.” Sam tilted his head, lips twitching. “After all, it is Friday…” 

“Yeah? No shit? Surely we can find ourselves something to do.”

Title: The Trouble with Cowboys
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CSW7DS8F

Diamonds in the Rough

August 27, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #3
Genre: , , , , , , ,
Release Date: August 6, 2024

When Asher Allen heads west to become the nanny to a family in New Mexico for the summer, he’s expecting three kids who’ve lost their parents. He’s expecting to have to step in and save the day so their uncle, the cowboy who took them in, can get back to work on the family ranch. What he doesn’t expect is to fall so hard for New Mexico. And for his new boss.

Sebastian Martindale is about to give up and make a run for it when Ash arrives. His niece hates him, he never gets enough sleep, and he can’t juggle three small kids and the mountain of work that needs to get done. Despite his total exhaustion he’s skeptical when his mom hires a nanny, but once Ash shows up, Bastian isn’t sure how he’d managed without the man.

Together, Bastian and Ash have to navigate the children's grief, the first day of school, helping the kids understand they have a home right where they are, and falling for each other at the same time. Can they work it all out and polish up the diamonds in the rough they find?

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Chapter 1 

Holy fuck. This place looks like a hotel. 

Asher Allen drove past the rustic sign that read “Diamond M Ranch” and up the long driveway toward the main house. The closer he got, the bigger the house seemed, until he started to wonder if he was in the right place. 

Two floors, a thousand windows, a picture postcard view… 

Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore. 

What the hell had he gotten himself into? It had been a long trip from New York, and he was not at all ready for… whatever this place was. He took a couple of pictures with his phone and texted them to his best friend Max. 

<Made it. This is home for the next three months. Or it’s a cult. I guess we’ll see.> 

Two stories of white plaster. Huge balconies. Three trucks in the driveway. Great big windows. 

It was wild and absolutely not kid-friendly and— 

A little naked red-headed boy went running across the second-story balcony, followed by a screaming man holding a second naked little boy. 

Wow. 

Guess I’m in the right place after all. 

He popped the trunk and pulled out his suitcase, got his backpack from the back seat, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and headed for the front steps. He hauled everything onto the first-floor porch and knocked on the door. 

Then he rang the doorbell. 

And then knocked again. 

Asher decided the guy wasn’t coming to the door if he was busy chasing naked children around upstairs, so he let himself in. 

“Hello?” he called out. “It’s Ash. Asher Allen. The nanny?” 

A young girl with hair as black as night—Samantha, if he remembered correctly—peered at him from the top of the stairs. “Are you here to take us back to Connecticut?” 

She was adorable, with big eyes, and her long hair was pulled back in a hairband. “No, I’m sorry. I’m here to help you get settled in New Mexico though. Are you Samantha?” 

“Uh-huh. Uncle Bastian is going to dunk my brothers in the tub. If he can catch Will. Walt is slower.” 

“Maybe I can help.” He left his things at the bottom of the stairs and made his way up. “Is there a trick to catching him that I should know? I bet you know all the tricks.” 

“I do. He likes to play freeze dance.” 

“Who are you talking to, girl? Is someone here?” The voice was stressed, full of a near-desperate edge. 

“Asher Allen, your nanny.” He climbed the rest of the stairs to meet his employer. The guy had such a great name. Sebastian. How dignified was that? 

“Oh. Shit. I—” A cowboy in jeans, boots, and a soaking wet T-shirt stood there with two dripping little boys in his arms. “Hey. Bastian Martindale. I assume you been talking to my mama, Stella?” 

Bastian. Okay, then. “I think so, yes. She was working with my agency. What can I do?” 

“I—” The man blinked for a second. “I don’t know. What can you do?” 

“Let him take us back to Connecticut,” the little girl snapped. 

“Sam. You’re not going anywhere.” 

Ash had his eyes and ears open. He knew very few details about what had happened, but he knew the family was grieving. This had to be so hard for these kids, especially Samantha, at her age. 

Bastian was carrying both boys now. It seemed like that game of freeze dance wasn’t going to be necessary, but he filed it away for next time. 

With boys, there was always a next time. 

“Bath time?” 

“The water is run in the big tub. You’d think they’d like it, but they fight every inch.” 

“No!” one screamed. 

As the other went, “No baf!” 

He reached out and took one of the boys from Bastian. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Will.” 

“Oh, you’re the fast one. I’ve heard about you. I love a bath. You sure you don’t want one? I can totally go enjoy the warm water and the toys and all instead.” 

Walt frowned at him, suspicious, but Will lit up. “Toyses? I play!” 

“I don’t know, you said no bath, but if you’ve changed your mind, that’s cool. You can have some bath toys.” He looked at Samantha. “Help me out here; where am I going?” 

“Uncle Bastian’s room. He has the great big bathroom. Great big.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ll show you.” 

She pointed an imperious finger, the other boy started struggling in the cowboy’s arms, and for a second, Ash could see utter exhaustion. 

“Okay, let’s go.” He went the way Samantha was pointing and set Will down in the tub, then turned to take—Walt? Was it Walt?—from Bastian. 

“I got this.” He gave Bastian a smile. “Samantha will show me where the boys’ room is so I can get them in pjs. You’re good. Go have a drink.” He started tossing everything he could find that would float into the bathtub to be used as toys. Plastic cups, washcloths, a mostly empty shampoo bottle. 

“Okay…” Bastian grabbed a towel on his way and headed out of the room with a sigh. 

“He’s not a dad. He’s not my dad.” Samantha sat on the closed commode. “Did you know my mom and dad?” 

“No, but I wish I had. He’s not trying to be your dad, Samantha; he’s just trying to give you a safe home. I think he’s new at this parenting stuff, you know?” 

The boys splashed and laughed, and he managed to get Walt shampooed without the kid even really noticing. One down… 

Will dumped a glass of water on his own head, cheering. “I do!” 

Oh, this little boy was fearless. 

“Wow, you’re good at that.” He quickly lathered up Will’s head. “Do it again!” 

“Again!” Will filled the cup and poured it over his head. “Again!” 

Walt began to cry. 

Oh, boy. 

“You want a turn, Walt?” He grabbed another cup and put it in Walt’s hands. “You can do it too.” He glanced over his shoulder at Samantha. He was going to make her feel so smart and useful she didn’t have time to miss Connecticut. “Are they always like this?” 

“They’re awful, but they’re mine, so I have to keep them.” She sighed, so dramatic. “There aren’t any fun kids here.” 

He kept his hands busy with the boys while he talked with her. Finish the bath, pop the boys in pjs—had they had dinner yet? “No? What about school? That should be starting soon, right?” 

“Yes!” Like it was a betrayal. “I’m running out of time!” 

“Running out of time for what?” He hit the drain on the bathtub and rinsed the boys off. “Towels?” 

“I’ll get them. For the summer. I don’t want to go to school here. I don’t like it here. I won’t go.” She handed him towels. “I’m going back to my old house, my old school.” 

“Oh, I see.” He understood. It wasn’t something he was going to argue with her about when he’d been here five minutes. Or really, ever. He’d just have to help her like it here. 

Assuming he figured out how to like it here. 

Gotta love a challenge. 

He took the towels and wrapped the boys in them. He picked Will up but offered Walt his hand. “Show me your room, Walt.” 

“Room! Room!” The little boy glanced at his sister, wide-eyed. “Sisser?” 

“You have the blue room. Will has the green room.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that it matters. They always end up together.” 

“Twins do. It’s a thing.” He sort of led and sort of followed Walt into a blue room and closed the door behind them, hoping that would at least slow Will down if he took off. “Pajamas…” He looked around and finally started opening dresser drawers. 

“Turtle ones.” Will pointed to the bed. “Turtle.” 

Walt went to the dresser and opened up another drawer, pulling out a pair of pajamas with moose all over them. “Dease ones.” 

“Okay. Perfect.” Turtles for Will, moose for Walt. “You guys look great.” He glanced at Samantha. “Have you all had dinner?” 

“No. Everything here is hot. Everything.” 

“Eggses! Eat all the eggses!” Will cheered, and Walt climbed up on the little bed, covering his head with the blankets. 

“Okay. You want eggs? I can make eggs, no problem. Walt? Are you coming?” He gave Walt’s little butt a pat. Scrambled eggs were a perfectly fine dinner for his first night in town. 

“Eggses. Eggses. Egg-a-ses!” Will cheered and marched to the top of the stairs, where Bastian met them. 

“No boys on the stairs alone, little dude.” Bastian met Samantha’s eyes. “You going to eat?” 

“Are you going to cook?” 

Those lips tightened, and Bastian shrugged one shoulder. “Starve, then. I don’t care. Stay up here with your brother.” 

“Fine.” Samantha crossed her arms. 

“Whoa, now. I can cook. No one needs to starve. Good rule about the stairs though. You got this one? Let me grab Walt.” He went back for the boy with his head still under the blanket and scooped him up. “Dinner, buddy.” 

Walt just snuggled right into him with a little hum, but that was it. No fight. Just a snuggle. 

Poor kid. That was a little boy who wanted his mommy. Will probably did too; he just seemed better at distracting himself. 

When he got to the stairs, everyone was already gone, probably on their way to the kitchen. That was quite a staring match between Bastian and Samantha. She was angry, and he was out of patience—or just plain energy—for it. He couldn’t blame either of them. This was impossibly hard, incredibly unfair, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. 

Well, Bastian could have refused to take the kids in, Ash supposed, but he hadn’t, and something about the guy’s vibe told Ash that he wouldn’t have even thought about that. Bastian seemed like a family guy—his mother had set all of this up, so they must be close too. 

The kitchen was tense when he walked in. Samantha was at the table with Will, and Bastian had his back turned to her, making something. Coffee? 

He walked over and stood beside Bastian. “I’m sorry that I just barged into your home like that, but it seemed like you could use a minute to yourself.” 

“Yeah. A minute. Thanks, man. I’ll get you set up with your rooms and everything here in a bit. I—Thanks for jumping in.” 

The kitchen door thumped open. “Boss? You need to sign off on all this sh—shtuff from the auction house.” 

The man who came stomping in was filthy, smelled bad, and had a voice like a foghorn. 

Walt immediately started wailing, while Will launched himself toward the big guy—who had obviously been rolling in manure. 

Samantha caught Will by his collar and pulled him back, which wasn’t ideal but got the job done. He bounced Walt on his hip and tried not to wrinkle his nose too obviously at the stench. “Oh, good catch, Samantha.” 

The temptation to tell the guy that they were all standing right there, and he needn’t shout was almost irresistible, but he managed for the sake of… something. Respect. Politeness. Just being too new to rock the boat yet. Something. He hadn’t been here an hour and all he’d seen was chaos. The house was serene and stately on the outside, and a whirlwind of emotion and noise and… stinky on the inside. 

“You know it. I took a tumble out there chasing that dinosaur chicken. Sammy, girl, you know your face is going to freeze that way?” 

“Oh for… those ostriches are going to be the death of me. Wylie, this is Allen. Asher Allen. He’s the guy Mama hired from back East.” 

“Well, Allen Asher Allen! Triple A! I’m pleased to meetcha. I need that stuff done for the auction before tomorrow, Boss. Don’t forget.” The big man winked at him. “Y’all need anything from town? Tacos? Beer? A pair of penguins from the zoo?” 

Soap? 

God, that almost came out of his mouth. 

“Penwings!” Will tried to make another run for Wylie, but Samantha was on it. 

“It’s good to meet you, Wylie.” 

Do not say “coyote”. 

Ash was going to get in trouble here. He could feel it. 

“We’ll have a beer later, huh? Everyone will want to meet you. Don’t forget that—” 

Bastian slapped one hand on the counter. “I said I’ll do it, man. Get your skanky ass out of here, or I’ll tell Anna you tracked shit through her kitchen!” 

Whoa. 

Ash flinched and reflexively took a couple of steps backward. Walt was practically inconsolable now, crying into his shoulder. Even Will was a little wide-eyed. 

Samantha huffed and shook her head like all the adults had gone crazy, and maybe they had. 

And who was Anna? He was sure he’d been told Bastian lived alone. 

Wylie, though, he just chuckled and shook his head. “I ain’t scairt. My old lady is a paragon of womanhood. I’ll bring tacos in a bit. See you later, Boss, Triple A, Sammy, lost boys.” 

Huh. Wylie said “ain’t” and used “paragon” correctly in the same breath. This place was wild. “It’s just two A’s actually…” He didn’t manage to get that out before Wylie closed the door. 

Everyone went still in the kitchen for a second, and then Walt started wailing again. “Okay… hey, buddy. It’s all good.” Hopefully. Bastian needed a drink and a nap. And maybe not to have children around, but here they were. “Can I make the kids some eggs?” 

“Of course. What do you need besides eggs? Cheese? Milk? The pots and pans are here.” He opened up a cabinet, and the stacks of pans gleamed. Nice. 

“Yes, all of those things. A mild cheese if you have one? Thank you.” He turned to Samantha. “Do you guys like toast with your eggs? You want them wrapped in a tortilla? Something else?” 

“No tortillas. Only my daddy ate tortillas.” 

Bastian took Walt from him. “Hush, pup. I got you. We’ll go see the puppies after you eat, if you’re nice.” 

Walt grabbed Bastian, leaned in and whispered, and Bastian nodded. “Sure, you can have a tortilla, pup.” 

Ash hid his grin and started scrambling eggs in a large bowl. “So, no spices, Samantha? What about the boys?” 

“Will is no spice. Walt is a New Mexican in his soul, aren’t you, pup? He likes to share chile with his tio, don’t you?” 

“Tio?” He found the cheese and milk, and a loaf of bread. 

“It’s Spanish for uncle. I’m their Tio Bastian.” 

“He’s Uncle Bastian,” Samantha insisted. 

“That works too. I’m easy.” And furious, but holding it in, Ash could see it. 

“What’s Spanish for nanny? Or… Manny?” He chuckled, pouring the eggs into the pan and listened to them sizzle. He popped in the toast for Samantha and pulled out tortillas for the boys. He’d like Will to learn to like a tortilla; it made eating so easy. 

“El niñero.” 

Oh, okay. That was actually really pleasant to the ear. 

“I speak French.” Samantha shook her head. “Not Spanish.” 

“You can speak both.” Bastian didn’t sound the slightest bit worried. 

“Moi aussi, Samantha. But we can learn Spanish, too. And German. And Italian also, if we want to.” 

He noticed then that Walt was quiet. Walt trusted Bastian. Good to know. Maybe Bastian was right about the boy being New Mexican in his soul. 

“Did I tell y’all there is a new foal in the barn? She’s a pretty thing. In a couple of days, we’ll go see her.” 

“You have a foal? How cool. I’ve never seen one except in pictures or TV. What about you Samantha?” 

“I guess I could see her. There’s nothing else to do around here.” 

“Nope. Just miles and miles of nature.” Bastian was trying not to explode—that was obvious—but the cracks were starting to show. 

“Moo cows, Sisser!” Will pronounced. “Kiki and doggies and—” He looked to Bastian. 

“Churro sheep and coyotes and llamas.” 

“Cowdodies! Aroo!” 

He smiled at that because it was so adorable. Bastian had been putting in the time with these kids, despite everything. He put the eggs on plates, wrapping two up with cheese inside tortillas, and set them down on the table for the boys, then put toast on Samantha’s plate. 

“Do you want cheese on your eggs, Samantha?” 

“Yes?” She looked so suspicious, so worried about her answer. 

“Great.” He added some cheese and folded the eggs around it so it would melt. “Here you go.” He leaned toward her and gave her a wink. “You’re allowed to like what you like.” 

“Yeah. I don’t like spicy food. I don’t like oats. I don’t like it here.” 

Bastian sat with Walt. “You want to sit on your seat, pup? Eat some good eggs?” 

Walt nodded and sat down to eat, tearing into the tortilla. Will had already finished half of his. 

“What can I make for you, Bastian? Or should we have some dinner after we put the kids down and… talk a little?” 

“I think you and I have to make a plan. I’ll need to show you your rooms and all that. How about planning to meet post getting the twins down?” 

“Sounds good. I’ve got this if you want to relax a little, or… go see what Wylie needed you for.” Helpful. He was there to look after the kids, but also to be a help to Bastian. That’s what Bastian’s mother had said. My boy needs help. 

“Perfect. I’m going to go send that information to the auction house, then we’ll see the puppies, okay y’all?” 

“Pees.” Walt nodded, offering Bastian a smile. 

This was a good start. Jumping in was somehow better than taking it slow and awkward introductions. He was here now, working already, helping where he could. 

The hardest part of this job wasn’t going to be two wild twin boys like he’d thought. It was going to be Samantha. 

And her tio.

Title: Diamonds in the Rough
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0D2YLD3B2

No Ghosts

March 10, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #3
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: March 10, 2020
Pages: 297

 

Razor's Edge: The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book Three

Months after James’s brutal murder, Sam gets an opportunity to help Thomas find closure. That means leaving New York City to travel to the O’Reilly’s Texas home, to meet Sam’s parents and get a taste of how and where the O’Reilly brothers grew up.

Their vacation is also an opportunity for Thomas and Sam to move beyond the past, drop their remaining baggage, and finally solidify their tumultuous relationship.

But that may be easier said than done given that Thomas has a secret he’s been keeping from Sam, and Sam is sick and tired of everyone in his life knowing what’s going on but him. It’s the worst time for their trust to break down, because their final confrontation with James’s killer looms, and if they’re going to walk away, they’ll have to do it together.

Note to our readers: Each of the three books in The Cowboy and the Dom Series has a fully realized, romantic ending. However, the overarching suspense element will leave readers on a cliffhanger after books one and two, to be fully resolved in book three (this book). Readers should begin the series with book one, First Rodeo.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

EXCERPT

Chapter One

“No, Sam can’t be alone yet. Can you set up a conference call?” Thomas stared at the Scrabble board. “After three.”

“Three thirty?” Thomas’s assistant, Ally, was on the phone, being her usual organized self and covering for him while he was out of the office, looking after his lover.

“Yes, that’ll work. Put it on my calendar and email me the slide deck?”

“Sure thing, I’m doing that right now.” He could hear Ally typing. “Doctor Kinessey called about continuing his sponsorship for next year.”

While they were talking, Thomas pulled a handful of Scrabble tiles off his rack and placed them on the board, spelling out C-A-N-D-Y. Not great, but not terrible. He gave Sam a shrug and a smile and paced away from the board, one eye still on his lover, his sub.

“When did he call? Did Kathy call him—”

“Yesterday. She’s on it.”

“Oh, good. That’s promising.”

Sam tilted his head, playing Y-O-D-E-L-I-N-G. “You can go in, Mister. I swear.”

He shook his head and mouthed the word No to Sam.

“So how’s the cowboy?”

He stared at the board and sighed. “Jesus.”

“That bad?”

“What? No. No that wasn’t for you. He’s much better. I’m just getting my ass handed to me in Scrabble. Sorry.”

“Okay…that’s not sexy at all. So…ah. Amanda wants to know if you’re planning on making an appeal at the donor gala next month.”

“Yes. Tell her I’m interested, and I’ll try to get in to see her early next week.”

“She goes on vacation Wednesday.”

“Oh. Okay, well Monday, then.”

“You’re sure?”

He had to return to work someday. Sam would be coping by then. “Yes, Monday.”

“Okay, Boss. That’s all I got. Check in with me later?”

“All right. I’ll call you around four.” Thomas looked at his watch. He was pretty proud of himself. He was up, showered, shaved, he’d made breakfast, and even gotten dressed today. It was as if he were real.

“Kiss your cowboy!”

He snorted. “Thanks, Ally.” He hung up the phone. “You cheated.”

“I did not. I’m just brilliant.” Sam stuck his tongue out at him and rolled those pretty eyes. Once Sam’s stitches had come out, the boy shaved his head, and with the knit caps he wore constantly these days, Sam’s eyes seemed huge.

“I liked it better when you still had the concussion and you thought the Hs were Ls and the Vs were Ws.” He picked five tiles and stared at his new letters thoughtfully. “Ah.” He grinned. Maybe he could keep up after all. He played D-E-V-I-C-E off Sam’s D in “yodeling” and replaced the tiles in his rack. “Looks like I’m going back in on Monday.”

“I’m more than capable of managing. I’ve got this. I’ll even make you chili.” A-X-E-S and D-E-V-I-C-E-S? Thomas was about to pinch Sam.

“We’ll have to talk about some ground rules while I’m not home.” He turned Sam’s “axes” into T-A-X-E-S and also put down A-B-L-E off his T.

“Nicely done. What kind of ground rules? I’m just going to work, mostly. I’m still five hundred emails behind.” Sam played V-O-L-E.

“Well, for starters, no working out.” God, he had impossible tiles. He sighed and used the C in “candy” to make R-I-C-E. Pathetic.

“I’ll get soft in the middle, you know.”

“You can do some crunches when I get home. But no running at all.”

“No. Not yet. Maybe in a little while, but…no. Not yet.” Sam reached out for him.

He abandoned his letters, moved around the coffee table to sit closer to his boy, and took Sam’s hand in his. “Yes. That’s right. Not yet.”

“Mmm…hey.” Sam twined their fingers together, holding on to him.

“Hi.” Thomas gave his boy a smile. “It’ll be good, won’t it? Getting back to our routine.” If they could even call it that. Sam had only just moved in when he was attacked and hospitalized, so they hadn’t had a routine in place for more than a couple of weeks. But Sam had been happy before all this insanity, working on his book and making progress on his research projects. The focus had been good for his boy.

“You know it. I’m aching for a little normal. Just a little. Maybe a lot.”

“Aching, yes.” He’d been fine all week. His body had been just as focused on Sam’s recovery as his mind. But talking about normal suddenly made him want his lover back.

He reached for Sam and pulled his boy in for a kiss.

Sam’s hand was warm on Thomas’s cheek, his thumb moving lazily, stroking under his eye.

His boy smelled like Old Spice and tasted a little wild, just like his cowboy should. He slid a hand over Sam’s hip and tucked it under one firm ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. The grin he got was pure happiness, Sam leaning hard into his touch.

His boy’s energy lit him up and he grinned, catching those hazel eyes, loving the little extra green he saw there this time. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere, cowboy?”

“That’s the rumor. You found me wandering, I hear. All aimless and shit.” Sam licked the corner of his lips, the sensation featherlight, intriguing.

“Right, aimless. I remember now.” He huffed out a soft laugh. “Well, we can’t have that. I’m sure I’ve got something you can focus on.” He nudged Sam’s chin up with his own and inhaled against smooth skin, breathing his boy in.

“Mmm…” That satisfied sound settled deep in his balls. “Oh, that’s just right.”

“Mhm.” He licked and kissed his way past Sam’s throat, humming as he felt the boy swallow against his lips, and tested the bend near the boy’s shoulder with his teeth.

Sam moaned for him, moving sweet and slow against him, almost like he was dancing. It didn’t take anything at all to encourage Sam into his lap; then he had that perfect ass rocking into him.

“Yes.” That was what he was after. Heat spread up his spine, making him suck in a quick, deep breath. “That’s good, sweetheart.” He slipped his hands up under Sam’s T-shirt and explored the hot skin and hard muscles with knowing fingers.

Sam stared at him, letting him see all the hunger, the love. It could get addictive fast, that open desire.

A piece of him was so ready for a throwdown, but he took a breath and made that wait because his hands needed to feel Sam whole; to feel his lover’s strength, make sure it was real, make sure Sam could handle what was building in him.

He reached up and traced the edge of Sam’s cap. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I got this.” Sam kissed him hard enough that he forgot to breathe. “I need to feel us together, you know?”

He found a breath, thin though it was. “I do. I want you. God, so much.” He urged Sam off his lap and stood. “I have to have all of you.”

“Yes. Every bit.” Sam nodded and led him to the bedroom, hands sweating just a little. Thomas followed eagerly, captivated, recognizing the gesture for what it was. As they moved into the room, he tugged off his T-shirt and tossed it, going for another kiss, chasing down Sam’s lips.

Sam opened up, hands sliding down into his sweats, easing them over his ass.

Thomas kicked his jeans off, stepping past them and reaching for Sam’s T-shirt. He got hold of the fabric but stopped himself, eyes glancing up at the knit cap on Sam’s shaved head. He lifted the shirt off, careful not to bump anything that might still be sore, and dropped it.

“May I?” he asked, catching Sam’s eyes, fingers reaching for the hat, the only garment his lover was still wearing.

“I don’t want to turn you off, Mister.” There was a question in Sam’s expression, a test.

Thomas tilted his head, wondering why his lover couldn’t see how entirely unnecessary that was, but he gave Sam the only answer he had…and his heart with it. “I want all of you, sweetheart. I love all of you. Every bit. Always.”

“All right, then. Yeah.” Sam took the hat off, no more hesitation, trusting in his word.

He was continually in awe of the depth of Sam’s trust in him. He smiled, gave his boy a nod, and ran his fingers lightly from front to back, across Sam’s skull, examining the scars and what was left of the bruises, learning them a little and accepting them as part of who the boy was to him. “Thank you.”

He planned to reward that trust tonight for as long as they could stand it. He took a kiss, bumping against Sam as they shuffled toward the bed.

Sam snuggled in, pressing into him, shoulders to hips, holding nothing back.

“Mmm.” He got his arms around Sam. “You feel so good. I was missing you like this. I’m so ready to get lost in you, sweetheart. Inside you.” He shifted, trapping Sam’s cock against his hip and rocking them together.

Sam made the best sound—half moan and half happy yelp—and his eyelids went heavy. Thomas tugged Sam in tighter, giving him more friction, making his boy feel the pressure.

“Good, yes?” He could feel Sam moving…always moving, his boy. One more thing he’d missed. He was aching in earnest now, wanting Sam’s attention, his boy’s touch. He was patient, though. He’d get what he desired most. For now, he was enjoying watching Sam feel, watching his boy begin to dissolve.

“Oh, Mister. Good don’t begin to…” Sam’s words trailed off, a low moan taking their place as a deep flush climbed his chest.

Not even close, he knew. “My boy,” he said with a growl that started down deep. He moved to the bed, pulling Sam with him by the hand. “Come on, sweetheart, off your feet.”

Sam crawled up onto the bed, arms open to him, begging for him. His boy did need so well. It was a beautiful sight. It made him breathless, eroded what was left of his patience. He moved over Sam and into those arms, gliding his stiff prick along hot skin and kissing his boy until they were equally unable to breathe.

He made sure that tender, bruised head was cradled in the pillows, but that was where he let his worry stop. Sam’s body would tell him everything he should know.

With his eyes on his boy, he curled his fingers firmly around Sam’s cock and stroked, thumb dragging up the back and circling around the head, just to see it in Sam’s face. Just to see what he was doing reflected in his boy’s eyes.

Sam’s lips dropped open and one leg drew up, his knee bending to give him more access.

The knowledge that two weeks ago Thomas might have lost this, that he might not have had his boy in his bed again was present with him as he touched Sam, watched the boy move. It wasn’t distracting or even painful, not with the reality of Sam right in front of him, but it made him appreciate this first time together since the incident, made him more acutely aware of what they had, what they were together.

It made some of his other worries feel less significant, less pressing. That was their work. This was their world, and he was more than content in it.

He reached for his nightstand, craving his lover beyond words.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” Sam reached up, fingers stroking his nipple to hardness, pinching the barest bit, teasing him.

He hissed at the quick little jolt that sent across his chest, raising goose bumps and making him shiver. “Thank you.” He was going to accept those words, the same way his lover had accepted his own earlier. Simply. He was trying to be better about that.

He smoothed the rubber over his cock and offered his boy two slippery fingers and a little pressure. “Soon, boy. Need you soon.”

Sam pinched again before bearing down, taking his fingers in. Sam was silk inside, tight and heated, and Thomas groaned at the promise Sam’s body made.

He twisted his fingers as Sam took them in, slicking and teasing, stretching and making sure his boy relaxed. The last was hardly necessary, as Sam felt loose and ready. That made the corner of his mouth twitch in a knowing grin. His boy wanted everything he did.

He’d never known a man that had so little sexual experience and so much natural instinct, such deep desires. It suited him to be Sam’s first and only. It made him just that much more proud, and it was hot as hell. He groaned as that thought settled right into his groin, making his balls tight and his cock stretch. Fuck. “Sweetheart…”

“Mister. Please, love me, huh?” Sam spread wide, knees bent in a clear offer.

Damn, it didn’t get any hotter than that. “Love you.” He lined up, one fist around his cock to guide himself, and sank into his boy to the root with a long sigh. Sam rippled around him, the sensation driving another spike of heat up along his spine.

He stretched over Sam, instinct already driving him. Sam’s need was making him high, making it hard to think but easy just to let his body have what it wanted. Sam met his thrusts, gaze dragging over his body like his boy wanted to devour him.

“Fuck, Sam.” He leaned down and kissed his boy, hard and deep, thrusting in with his tongue even as his hips went wild. “Feel so good. Perfect.”

“Yes.” Sam nodded, biting his bottom lip, white teeth just digging in.

Sam’s prick pressed into his belly and he reached for it again, giving the boy just enough of a grip to feel it. That soft cast slapped against the sheets, Sam’s right hand fisting tight. “Oh, damn. Fuck. Want you so bad.”

He ducked his head and shifted his hips a bit, the steeper angle giving him a little more rub. “Fuck!”

Sam wrapped those strong legs around him, adding all that core strength to his, and shit, he was going to lose it. Sam rode him like no one else, frantic, hungry, pushing them both. He grunted and gave in, breathing hard, single-minded, taking everything Sam offered and returning it. He loved the way they worked together, no shame, no boundaries, just giving and getting everything they needed.

“Sam!” He had to let go of Sam’s cock to brace himself before he fell over; his boy was so strong, and he had to balance.

Sam bore down, squeezed hard around his cock, and Thomas barked out a sharp cry. Thomas trembled and gulped in air, thrusting uselessly, his cock choked by Sam’s body. To his own ears, his shout sounded hoarse as his climax roared through him, just a breath before he was ready, one second before he’d have lost control himself, his own pleasure summoned by his beautifully impatient boy.

“So-so fucking fine,” Sam breathed, right hand pulling at his needy cock, clumsy, harsh, awkward.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Jesus, his voice felt blown. He pushed Sam’s hand away and took over, strokes solid and steady, Sam’s cock gliding through his fist as he watched the pleasure roll over his boy’s face in waves.

“Mister!” Sam shuddered and shot for him, ass still clamped tight around his cock.

Thomas groaned as another jolt ran through him, making the blood roar in his ears and his vision blur. He blinked it clear, wanting to see his boy, wanting to watch. “You’re stunning, love.”

Sam panted for him, blinking up with a purely dazed expression.

Oh, that was adorable.

He leaned down, took a slightly breathless kiss, and smiled at Sam. “That was…you’re…fuck, I love you.” He had so much to say, but he didn’t seem to have words yet, so he hoped that summed it up well enough.

“Love.” Sam moaned for him, licking Thomas’s lips. “Wow, huh?”

He nodded. That about covered it. “Yes. Wow. Incredible.” He kissed Sam again. “The way you drive me out of my mind.”

Sam grinned at him. “Good. I’m so glad. I want to make you feel as good as you make me.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Without even trying.” He put a hand on Sam’s hip and shifted, dropped the rubber in the bin by the bed, and stretched out alongside his boy.

“Mmm…that is one of my favorite feelings on Earth.” Sam sounded utterly tickled.

He laughed in agreement. It felt good to have this back, the warmth, his boy so relaxed, nothing between them but skin.

“It feels much better than being crushed at Scrabble.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sam patted his leg, fingers trailing over his skin. “I missed making love with you, Mister.”

His chest tightened at Sam’s words. “Yes, so much. We needed this, sweetheart. I was craving you.” Mindful of the boy’s injuries, he pulled Sam to him, helping his lover settle in his arms. Sam didn’t hesitate for a second; he snuggled in with a satisfied sigh, resting hard against Thomas’s chest.

He held his boy close, grateful to have felt Sam’s strength, to know for sure that every bit of Sam was solid and whole. They still had other pieces of their relationship to visit, other aspects of their lives to bring back around to normal, but as far as new beginnings went, this was the perfect start.

 

Title: No Ghosts, The Cowboy and the Dom Book Three
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0851V13ZS
ISBN13: 978-1951011291

 

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Flying Blind

July 9, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: East Meets Western #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: July 28, 2020
Pages: 427

Flying Blind

An East Meets Western M/M Romance

Sometimes the best thing about living in New York is leaving it.

When January Bell takes a risk on a business trip to Denver and introduces himself to the hot as fire rodeo cowboy across the bar, he has no idea what he’s in for. Hawk is like nobody he’s ever met, and Jan finds he is intrigued enough to want more than just one night with the deceptively complex man.

Hawk Destry is working hard to wring every moment he can out of his bull riding career. He’s used to beating the eight second clock, but he is slowly losing his eyesight and he doesn’t have a lot of years left in the sport.

None of that seems to matter, though, when Hawk meets January, who treats him like he’s worth more off a bull than on one, and who’s willing to work just as hard to be with him.

The two men have to deal with distance and traveling, unexpected challenges when Hawk visits New York, family on both sides, and neither of them saw any of it coming. Eventually even Hawk’s dangerous job is thrown into sharp relief when tragedy strikes. How will January and Hawk find their way if they’re flying blind?

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Also in this series:
Cover for Cowboy for Sale, featuring a man in a cowboy hat wearing a checkered shirt.

 

Chapter One

Sometimes the best thing about living in New York City was leaving it.

“What can I get you?” The hotel bartender was burly and handsome, with deep-set dark eyes under a heavy brow and an easy smile framed by a carefully trimmed beard.

January smiled at the man and slid a credit card across the bar. “Do you have Glenlivet?”

“Yessir, twelve okay?”

“That’s fine. A double.”

The bartender picked up his card and glanced at it. “Running a tab, Mister Bell?”

“Yes, thank you, uh…”

He got a friendly smile. “Alex.”

January nodded. “Good to meet you, Alex.”

“What brings you to Denver?” Alex pulled the bottle down from a high shelf and set a glass on the bar in front of him. “Business? A wedding?”

He grinned and shook his head. It was a hotel bar and he was wearing one of his favorite suits. Either one of those things was a good bet. “Just a couple of business meetings.” He wasn’t going to say much more, he didn’t like to talk about his philanthropy. But his foundation was always searching for new opportunities and sometimes he had to travel to find them.

Alex poured him a generous double, put the cap on the bottle and left it within easy reach. Good call.

A pair of women waved to get Alex’s attention and the bartender inclined his head. “Excuse me. We’ll get busy here in a bit. Wave when you need me.”

“Will do. Thank you.” He swirled his whiskey and sniffed it, sighing as the rich, warm scent filled his nostrils, making his mouth water. The weather report was on the TV over the bar and he was surprised that despite the altitude, it wasn’t much cooler in Denver than it was back home. Even so, the Mile High City was much more pleasant than the Big Apple tonight.

January touched the glass to his lips, savoring the burn as that first jarring sip soaked into his tongue and slid down his throat, setting him tingling. They’d split up months ago, but this was only his second trip without Lucas and, although the bar was lively, he still felt lonely.

Or no.

Not so much lonely as alone.

He was bad at alone. He’d been both blessed and cursed with a strong, extroverted personality. He could talk to anyone, but he really did need someone to talk to, and his first glass of whiskey was always too quiet.

A raucous band pushed and bounced through the door—cowboy hats and jeans and an amazing array of sports tape and IcyHot and bruises.

“Yo, Alex!”

“Guys, Coors Light all around?”

“All but for Charlie here, man. He lost his fight with Railrunner.” One of the cowboys bellied up to the bar, damn near blinding him with a wild, excited shit-eating grin. “Let’s make him a virgin something frozen.”

Cowboys. One more reason to love Denver.

“You got it.” Alex set four silver cans on the bar. “One fakey Pina Colada, coming up.”

January glanced at the cowboy over his glass. “Somebody is on the good drugs, huh?” This cowboy seemed pretty beat up too.

“Got his ass trampled in the dirt, yessir. Made his ride, though.” God, that smile—part Dennis the Menace, part Mathew McConaughey.

Made his ride? Come on, Jan. You’re a smart guy. The pieces were floating around but he wasn’t putting them together. Injured cowboy, summertime, Denver.

Trampled. Did cowboys do MMA? January tilted his head, failing to get a look at the eyes shadowed by the man’s hat, though he caught the bright blond hair well enough.

“Railrunner, huh? Son of a bitch.” Alex peered over his shoulder at the group of men in hats as the blender whirred. “Is Charlie still on the roster for tomorrow? My girl got tickets for the show. I might have a little money on him.” Alex grinned at the cowboy sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Tickets.

“Sure he is, but you wasted your money. I’m in a solid third, and I’m taking the short-go and the event, you watch.” The guy didn’t seem to be worried in the least, or offended.

“It’s no fun to go after the easy money.” That was an obvious tease. “I guess I’ll see how you do tomorrow, won’t I?” Alex shut the blender off, poured the frozen mixture into a glass and set it on the bar. A couple of arms reached between January and the cowboy and pulled all the drinks off the bar, leaving one beer behind.

I’ll take rodeo for five-hundred, Alex. “Bulls?”

“Oh, these crazy bastards are bull riders. Good guys, great tippers, but rowdy? Wow.”

Wow was right. But they were just having fun, which was good by him. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a bull rider.”

“You want me to introduce you to Hawk there? He’s hilarious. He’s like talking to someone from a movie or something.”

He did like the accent. The shoulders too, if he was honest. And the cowboy’s ass, if he let himself go there.

And why not go there?

“Sure. I’d love that.” He’d talked to celebrities before, even straight ones.

“I’ll make the intros when he comes to grab his beer.” Alex nodded to him, like he did this every day, which January supposed he did.

“Cool. Thanks.” Well, that would never happen in New York. He sipped his drink, enjoying the warmth and watched the group of men out of the corner of his eye. So much testosterone standing in those boots. It was hot as hell.

Hawk did, in fact, come for his beer, nodding to Alex as his hand wrapped around it. “Charlie says you did good, man. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey, you met Mr. Bell here? He’s in on business.”

“I haven’t.” Hawk turned to him, eyes hidden behind thick, little round glasses, and held out one square, scarred up hand. “Hawk Destry, pleased to meet you.”

It only took him a second to decide it wasn’t worth the risk of getting his ass kicked, so when he shook Hawk’s hand he was careful to keep it all business, despite the allure of that stubborn chin. “January Bell. Good to meet you too. Alex says you’re a bull rider?”

“That’s the rumor.” Hawk climbed up on the barstool next to him, the man laughing at himself. “Some days I do better than others.”

January grinned. “Didn’t you say you had this one in the bag?”

“I sure did, and I stand by that. Assuming I get a good draw, my bull rope doesn’t pop on me, and I keep riding like I have, I’m golden.” Hawk chuckled and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Good thing I tend to ride good late in the season, huh?”

He wasn’t sure how Hawk managed to pull off arrogance and self-awareness at the same time. It was fascinating. Maybe the smile kind of smoothed out the edges. Whatever it was, January liked it. “Your draw is what? The order you ride in?”

“The bull you ride. The order goes by ranking. Right now I’m sitting in third. We’ll see if I can’t improve it.”

He’d love to have this cowboy in the bag. “Are any of these guys ahead of you right now?” He knew he was wasting his time, but January dared to lean in a little anyway and took a sip of his whiskey.

He swore he saw Hawk’s nostrils flare, the man tuning into him. “Charlie is, but he’s hurting bad.” The words were a fascinating mixture of sympathy and complete lack of care. “Tell me about you, now. Here on business?”

“Yes. I’ve got a couple of meetings, then I head back to New York.” He tossed out a bone. “Just three nights.”

“New York, huh? I been there a couple times for events. It’s huge and shiny. Lots of folks.”

“It’s both of those things. I love it, though the hustle and the crowds can get a little much sometimes.” Thankfully he had a little sanctuary on the Upper West Side with a view of the park. He spoiled himself, he knew. Even his suite at the hotel was a splurge. “Did you like it when you visited?”

“Sure did. I like seeing new stuff. My job keeps me on the road a lot, so it’s a good thing.” Was Hawk checking him out? Surely not. They didn’t make gay cowboys, did they?

“I get away once a month or so. More in the summer if I can find an excuse. It’s hot in the city. I like the mountains, even if I don’t get there as often as I’d like. I have a great view from my suite though.” He turned on his stool and swept the hem of his suit jacket off his hip to give Hawk more to glance at, if in fact the cowboy was looking. “Do you drink scotch? This is a nice one.”

“Is it?” That smile flashed again. “Let me buy us a round, then. See if our tastes mesh.”

Oh ho. So cowboys do come in gay. Sweet.

January caught Hawk’s arm as the man reached for his wallet, trying again to get a peek at Hawk’s eyes. The glasses were adorably geeky, incongruous under the hat. “Let me, please.”

There was a sizzling moment where the air between them burned, and it was blistering, dangerous, and sexual as hell. “Sounds like a plan.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He let go of Hawk’s arm and waved the bartender over. There was no reason to play games with the pull so strong and clear between them. “Alex? I’ll take the bottle, and I’d like to close out my tab please.”

Alex seemed a little confused but nodded and punched something into the register. “You got it.”

January dipped his fingers into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a business card and a pen, and wrote his suite number on the back.

“Sign here, Mr. Bell. I hope everything is all right?”

“Just fine, thank you.” He wrote in a generous tip and signed his name, then lifted the half-full bottle of whiskey off the bar and handed the business card to Hawk. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

“Give me two shakes to finish my beer.” Hawk lifted the bottle and saluted him before he headed over to his friends, moving slow and giving him a chance to see.

“Making new friends with a sh-uit, Hawk?” Charlie was slurring a bit, but between the bruised jaw and the drugs that wasn’t surprising. “What is he, a sh-ponsor?”

Hawk looked back at him, winked, then turned back to the group, giving him a nice view at a tiny, perfectly framed ass. “He ain’t with the tour, man. I thought maybe he was a fan. Y’all going to get Charlie here up to his bed?”

He was definitely a fan. Just not of the rodeo.

He left Hawk to finish his beer and make whatever exit he needed to make and took his bottle of scotch upstairs to his top-floor suite, where he poured himself another shot of liquid courage. He didn’t feel guilty or awkward; those weren’t things he had time for. But it had been a while since he’d quite so obviously let his dick do the thinking.

It wasn’t long before a knock sounded on the door, shave and a haircut. Hell, even the knock was brash, bold. He set two glasses next to the bottle on the dresser and went to answer the door.

There was a cowboy at his door all right. Boots, hat, jeans, square shoulders, bravado and all. Something about the way Hawk was standing felt a little like a challenge.

“Hey. Come on in.”

“Thanks for the invite. I appreciate it.”

“It’s… good to be appreciated.” He’d heard a lot of pick-up lines, but that was a new one. He stepped aside to let Hawk enter, laughing gently as he closed and locked the door behind them. “Do you not get many invitations?”

“I’ve had a couple three. Just needed to make sure we understood what I came up for.” Suddenly Hawk was right there, solid as a rock, one hand on his hip.

“Scotch?” January teased.

Jesus. Hawk was giving off more heat than the sun. And with that touch on his hip, whatever electricity had passed between them at the bar was back, only this time without the restraint of public eyes on them, January could do what he’d wanted to do then. He reached for Hawk’s shirt and tugged it out of the well-worn wranglers, slipping a hand under the hem to rest on warm skin and the hardest set of abs he’d ever felt. “Damn, cowboy.”

“I live and die on core strength.” Hawk found one of his nipples through his dress shirt, thumb dragging over his skin.

Nothing like finding one of his hottest hot spots on the first try. January hissed and leaned into the touch, fingers going to work on Hawk’s shirt, buttons sliding open one by one from the bottom up. He inhaled deeply, the scent of hungry man making his balls ache. He reached up with both hands and touched the frame of Hawk’s glasses, raising an eyebrow. “May I?”

“Sure. Put them somewhere safe.” The stroking turned into a firm pinch.

His toes curled. That was fucking right. “Easy, I don’t want to drop them.” He took Hawk’s glasses, folded them carefully and set them behind him on the dresser, right next to the bottle of scotch. Didn’t get much safer than that. He bent a little, but he still couldn’t get a look at those eyes, hiding under the brim of Hawk’s hat.

He shrugged his jacket off catching it with one hand and tossing it over a chair.

“Where was I? Oh right. Here.” He fanned his fingers out across those abs again. “Living and dying.”

“Mmhmm.” Hawk put his hat, brim up, on the end table, exposing a short-cropped mass of white curls, and light blue eyes that were almost crystalline. Impressive. And lovely.

He pushed the shirt off Hawk’s shoulders and took a light, tentative kiss, wondering, asking. Not every man he’d known was into kissing a one-night stand. The answer was straightforward and direct—Hawk kissed him like he was storming a beach at Normandy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. It was so on.

He helped Hawk get the shirt off while they fought for tongue positions and with each other’s buttons and zippers. He got his fingers under Hawk’s waistband and cupped a smooth, hot ass cheek that was nearly as muscled as the cowboy’s abs. Fuck, that was hot. He worked out, but January felt like a marshmallow next to this guy.

Hawk was like a marble statue come to life—chiseled and hard, but still burning with his need. Burning he understood. He shouldered Hawk toward the bed. “Sit.” He gave Hawk a light shove to make his point and tugged the man’s jean’s over his hips.

“Let me get my boots, or I’ll be caught at the ankle.”

“Boots? Oh.” He stepped out of the way and watched as Hawk wrestled with the boots and the denim. Huh. He’d file that under things to know before fucking a cowboy.

He kicked off his own shoes while Hawk dealt with footwear drama and tossed his shirt aside with them.

Hawk stripped down, showing off a heavy cock, icy pubes, and a set of feathers inked over his collarbones.

“I hadn’t planned on bringing a stacked, sexy cowboy to my suite tonight, you know. I thought I’d be finishing another glass or two and watching a game on TV.” He kicked everything aside and stood at a short distance, letting Hawk have an eyeful too. Hawk seemed so young, naked and blue eyed and without that hat. He felt a little old.

“Mmm, that would be a waste. Look at you. I could eat your happy ass alive.”

He was a little more interested in Hawk’s happy ass, frankly. He moved forward, the proximity making him burn and his fingers long to touch. Hawk’s blond curls were baby soft as he ran his fingers through them and long enough to tug.

So he did. “How about my cock instead?”

“Oh, I do like a man that knows what he wants.” Those icy eyes flashed up at him. “You going to get it up again and fuck me like I need?”

Wow. Those eyes. And talk about knowing what you wanted. “Not to worry. I’m only offering you a taste, cowboy. We had an understanding, I think.”

“Only a taste, hmm? We’ll see about that. I’m pretty damn good at what I do.” Hawk cupped his balls, squeezing enough to bring him up on his toes.

Okay sure good whatever you want. He leaned into the touch. Something about this guy made him so ready to let go. But he had plans too.

“Humble. I’ve heard that about cowboys.”

“Meek. Mild. Salt of the earth.” Hawk understood how to unfasten another man’s slacks.

“Four for four.” He watched Hawk’s scarred fingers work, thinking they were surprisingly delicate for someone that spent most of their time with thousand-pound animals.

“You forgot hard as nails and twice as tough.”

He sucked in a breath as his cock and the air-conditioned room met. “Oh, now you’re talking about me.”

“Mmm, look at this fine bit of rope.” Hawk measured him, base to tip, then did it again, lips opening to take his tip in.

January sighed and reminded himself to be patient, but his fingers made a fist in the cowboy’s hair anyway, blond curls popping up between his knuckles. He knew without asking that Hawk would be more than ready for whatever he wanted to dish out, but he was still a gentleman despite all appearances at the moment.

First times and all, right?

Hawk cupped his balls, rolling them and making him gasp, even as Hawk’s mouth dropped down and down, the blistering suction surrounding his prick.

“Mmm.” All right, it seemed like Hawk did have something to brag about. January spread his feet wider and arched his hips forward, his eyes glued to that hungry mouth. Hawk went down on him like a Hoover, taking him in to the root and swallowing hard before moving back up to work his tip.

He closed his eyes to feel for a minute, enjoy Hawk’s heat. Hawk’s mouth was heaven, he could let the cowboy take him all the way like this for sure. Sometime, when he was with a lover he knew he’d see more than once, he would let himself indulge again. But he wanted Hawk. He wanted that strong, muscled body underneath him.

Soon. January shivered and groaned as Hawk swallowed, throat going tight around his prick. Maybe soon-ish.

In a minute.

First, he needed to enjoy what this cowboy could teach him about flying.

“Jesus.” He opened his eyes again. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll still feel me when you win tomorrow night.”

“Mmhmm…” The hum sent vibrations all the way through to his bones. Fuck, Hawk was too good at this.

Too Goddamn good, and he’d had a little scotch. “Enough.” The word came out softer than he’d intended, raspy in his dry throat. He tried again, with more conviction. “I said a taste, cowboy. That’s enough.”

He tugged on Hawk’s hair, and his cock popped out of Hawk’s lips. They both groaned at the loss, with Hawk swaying on the mattress.

“That’s it.” He did appreciate a man that enjoyed giving head. “Crawl on up there and let me see that ass.” It was a thing of beauty in blue jeans, and Hawk obviously knew it. January was looking forward to what the denim had been hiding.

Hawk crawled up to the head of the bed, pretty little ass swaying back and forth to tease the fuck out of him.

“Mm-mm.” He reached across the bed to give one round cheek a love-tap, then slid out of his trousers. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a perfect ass?”

“Oh, flattery will so get you laid.” Hawk knelt up tall, ass cheeks clenched tight.

“Proud of it, are you?” He knelt right behind Hawk, coaxing Hawk’s knees open a little wider with his own, and slid his hands along the line of Hawk’s hips until they met, stretching wide again across those killer abs.

“You know it.” He could feel the way those muscles worked to keep them both upright.

He pressed close to Hawk’s back, letting his cock nestle into the warm cleft of that fine ass, and tasted a scarred shoulder with his tongue. That earned him a soft moan, and Hawk rocked back, ass teasing the hell out of him.

“There’s a little black bag next to your hat on the nightstand. Can you reach it?” So, he hadn’t made plans, but he was prepared anyway. Nothing put a damper on a spontaneous tryst like stopping in the hotel gift shop for a rubber, or worse, discovering it was closed.

“You got it.” Hawk settled deeper, thighs parted as he balanced and reached. Oh. Oh, that was the promise of pure sex. He slipped a hand through that inviting gap and cupped Hawk’s balls. They were silky and heavy and filled his whole hand.

Even better, they were shaved, smooth as silk, making all sorts of promises, each one better than another. Something told him waxing wasn’t cowboy standard issue. So intriguing, this man. A tangle of stereotypes and contradictions that Hawk simply owned, without shame or apology. It was sexy as hell.

“Tada!” Hawk straightened up, chuckling as he did. “That’s a right obliques workout. I’ll have to remember that.”

“I know I won’t forget it any time soon,” he teased and unzipped the little pouch pulling out what he needed. “That was a truly memorable view.”

Hawk put his hands on the wall behind the bed and arched, showing off shamelessly.

He swallowed hard. “Damn, Hawk.” January slicked a couple of fingers and touched the cool lube to the cowboy’s beautifully presented hole.

“Guy’s got to know how to get what he needs.”

“You don’t have to beg me, cowboy. I’m all in.” He slipped one finger inside, twisting it and circling the rim before adding a second.

Tight. He could only imagine that heat around his cock, working him. Milking him.

And Hawk was definitely focused and clear about what he needed. Jan was looking forward to blowing the cowboy’s mind a little. “I’m so ready for you.”

“Bring it on.” Hawk was so fierce, so in control of what he wanted.

January moved in close and lined up, wondering for a second if it would be rude to remind the man to breathe. “We’ll start easy.” He hooked one hand around Hawk’s hip and used his body weight to start to push inside, groaning as he met the natural resistance of Hawk’s body.

He heard the soft, shaky exhale, the first hint of any vulnerability at all. The truth of it was beautiful though and it made him shiver, the chance to own a piece of the cowboy’s swagger, even for an hour, giving him a thrill.

“I’ve got you.” He bent over Hawk’s back and rocked forward, sinking deeper into that incredibly tight heat. “Breathe. It’s good.”

“Yeah. Fucking A it is.” Hawk leaned toward him, hips moving in a steady rhythm that threatened to steal his breath.

He worked with Hawk, picking up the cowboy’s rhythm and taking it deeper, stronger. The way it built up on its own was so sweet, made him ache just right.

“Oh honey, like that. Just like that.”

That was better. That sounded like need.

“Yeah.” January focused on Hawk, his own need slowly building. “You’re going to lose your mind before I’m done with you.”

“Promises, promises.” Hawk gripped him, squeezing hard enough to steal his breath.

“Fuck,” he managed to bite out, followed by a deep grunt. Hawk was way too fucking together. He reached under and caught the cowboy’s thick prick in one hand, gripping it tight.

January felt that response, all around his cock, and the soft grunt that he got from Hawk proved that he had the cowboy’s attention.

“Hot.” He stroked hard several times before letting go and taking hold of Hawk’s narrow hips with both hands instead. He picked up the pace and drove in deep, moving beyond Hawk’s direction and taking them where he wanted to be.

Hawk reached down with one hand, pumping himself hard. With the couple of brain cells not busy, January managed to be impressed with Hawk’s balance.

That was the end of rational. He hauled back on Hawk’s hips. The sound of their bodies coming together over and over filled the room along with their rough breathing. He was determined to hold out for Hawk, but that sweet ass clung to him, hot and tight, and it took all his concentration.

“Come on. Harder. So fucking close.” The words weren’t a plea; they were a demand.

“Pushy fucking cowboy.”

He set his jaw, stared down the back of Hawk’s damp, blond head and thrust hard enough to send both of them rocking toward the headboard.

That was it. That earned him a cry, but nothing coherent at all.

So there.

January took a breath and focused on Hawk, dishing out more of the same until Hawk gave up trying to counter him. The cowboy melted around him, the heat increasing as Hawk gave in.

It was hard to resist the draw of Hawk’s shining skin and tired muscle; he could lick the man all over. And he might, later. At the moment his body was screaming to let go, and it was all he could do to keep up his nearly savage pace.

Hawk’s shout echoed as he shot, every pulse of pleasure echoing around his prick.

“Yes!” Oh sweet fuck yes. He fought through the tight grip around his hungry prick and took the last of what he needed—a handful of quick, shallow thrusts—and followed the cowboy over with a long, relieved groan.

Hawk slumped toward the wall, panting hard under him. It felt good, knowing he gave Hawk what he needed.

He shivered as he pulled away to ditch the condom, then he got a little of that taste he wanted, dropping kisses across the cowboy’s back. “Lie down with me. Stay a while.” He’d never kicked anyone out. People left and he got that, but he liked it if they stayed.

“Yeah? I can do that.” Hawk exhaled, settling down, turning toward him.

Score. He was happy to hold that body for a while. He extended an arm, inviting Hawk to move in closer. “You good? Okay?”

“Better than. I may have lost a few brain cells with that orgasm.”

He huffed, a weak laugh about all he could manage. “Well, they’re happily somewhere with mine. That was great.” He inhaled as Hawk settled in, more intrigued by the cowboy’s scent than he should be. He was truthfully more intrigued by Hawk in general than he should be.

Cowboy. Seriously, he’d had the orgasm of the year with a rodeo cowboy in Denver.

“Nap? Stay as long as you want. The suite comes with a killer breakfast.” He wanted Hawk to stay, and not because it was more food than he could possibly eat alone.

“Does it come with a round two?”

Oh. Heck, yeah. He wanted that too. “Are you kidding? That’s hours from now. We’ll be on three by then at least, don’t you think? Four?”

“Oh, I do like how you think.” Hawk snuggled right in with a moan.

He circled his arm over Hawk’s shoulders. “I’m told I snore a little,” he teased, talking through a huge yawn.

“I’ve been rooming with cowboys for fifteen years, honey. You could be the Latvian chain saw drill team and I could rest.”

He laughed, or thought he did. He tried anyway. And January fell asleep with an arm full of studly, irresistible cowboy.

 

Title: Flying Blind
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08CL2H4MR
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-34-5

Find Jodi's full catalog with links to all your favorite formats at Queeromance Ink!