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

Those hands, they knead my thighs, parting my


legs until the shirt is clenched between my buttocks. Those fingers


caress my throbbing flesh, tracing circles around my balls, rubbing


the skin at the base of my shaft. I thrust up into the slight


touch, wanting more, needing more, and I’m just about to beg for


him to do whatever it is he has in mind and get it over with, I’m


dyinghere, when I feel a drop of hot saliva course down my


length. Through half-closed eyes I see him hovering above my


erection, mouth open, salivating for me, and he waits until he


knows I’m looking before he goes down.


His lips are like velvet, soft and firm. His


cheeks suck at me, his tongue swirls down my cock, licks my balls,


twirls back up to run circles around the tip. Down again, all the


way in, I thrust into him so hard that I rise up off the hay and


his hands cup my ass, his fingers part my cheeks, rub me until I


cry out, I want him in me. I clench my fists into the hay as he


Chapter 43