Marcus was just passing through Texas when he met Kent. In his cowboy hat, low-riding jeans, and black boots, Kent looks like the type of guy Marcus desperately wants to love.<br><br>But two years later, he's discovered Kent is cold and distant, the quintessential American cowboy, and spends more time drunk than sober. Marcus can never predict his mood and blames himself for the flailing relationship.<br><br>Then, one day when Kent rides into town, Marcus finds a young runaway hiding in their barn. Luke is warm, loving, and quick to please ... everything Kent is not. Though the answer seems obvious, Marcus finds himself torn between the boy who demands his love and the man whose love he craves.

Cowboy

I nod, suddenly famished for him. “I’ll get


it afterwards,” I say, my voice cracking like the desert ground.


His fingers fumble between my legs and I lean on the table, arch up


into his hand, moan at his touch. From the corner of my eye I see


his belt already unbuckled, his other hand rubbing at the front of


his jeans. I hope we at least make it inside.


We do, but just barely. He drops his pants


the minute the screen door slams shut behind him, and I can’t seem


to get my belt to work, I want it undone, I want it open and I want


my pants gone now.Kent’s already working himself hard,


another few minutes and we’ll miss this, it’ll end in a rush of


thin, beer-laced cum on his hand and the floor and I’ll be out of


Somehow I manage to get my belt loose enough


to shuck my jeans down my narrow hips, and my boxers follow suit, I


don’t think we’re even going to make it as far as my bedroom


because he won’t be able to get it up again if we miss this now.


Chapter 6