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Coming Out 3

Loving Tyler

Tyler James is a pro at keeping his emotions bottled up. He uses
sex as a tool, never associating it with love. When Cavendish

sends one of their representatives to try and recruit him to be
their poster boy, he's ready to tell them where they can shove

their offer. But the dark-haired god in the Armani suit has him
choking on his words.

Marcus Vinetti fights tooth and nail not to be sent to the
boondocks to recruit some hick. He's surprised when he meets his

cowboy target who has muscle upon muscle and gorgeous green
eyes. Although he's usually good at masking his deviant desires,
Tyler brings all his needs and wants to the surface.

Will Tyler be able to change his long-standing playboy ways, and
will Marcus finally accept that he's in love with another man?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary,
Western/Cowboys
Length: 36,061 words

LOVING TYLER

Coming Out 3

Winona Wilder

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

LOVING TYLER
Copyright © 2011 by Winona Wilder
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-943-1

First E-book Publication: October 2011

Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

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thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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LOVING TYLER

Coming Out 3

WINONA WILDER

Chapter One

“Another lonely night?”
Tyler tossed his leather bag over his shoulder before lugging his

Western saddle against his side. “Fuck you, Randy.” The old-timer
only mocked him, but he wasn’t in the mood. Jet had left town with
his new boy toy, not even giving Tyler the time of day. What more
did he expect? If he didn’t give a piece of himself, he wouldn’t get
much in return.

“Ah, don’t be snippy, boy. Head on over to the Red Rooster. I’m

sure you’ll pick up a cute young thing.”

Tyler scowled, ignoring the old man. The Mapleton rodeo was

wrapping up, which meant it was time for him to move on. He’d miss
his friends and their families which had settled around the periphery
of the rodeo grounds in various tents and trailers. But stability to a
cowboy traveling the circuit was like oil and water. They just didn’t
work together. He planned to pack up and hit the open road, to find
the next paying event, and to drown his misery in mind-numbing
alcohol as soon as he stopped for the night.

He hoisted his saddle up and dropped it into the bed of his pickup

truck with a clatter of metal and leather. His spurs rang as he did a
perimeter check of his vehicle. Ever since his tires were slashed two

Loving Tyler

years ago, he made safety a priority. It was bad enough he had no set
address, but even on the road he had to watch his back. He supposed
he’d never know what a life of comfort and security felt like.

Tyler cranked his radio and shifted until he was comfortable in his

seat, and then he put the truck into gear. The long, straight highways
cutting through the prairies could drive a man mad with boredom
when he didn’t have a travel companion. Tyler rarely took a
passenger, so that must be a declaration to his sanity. There had been
a few good men during his travels. He’d hooked up with Jet on more
than one occasion, but those instances were just sex—but weren’t
they all. Tyler didn’t do relationships. He preferred to live a fast life,
allowing each day to carry him along with little thought. The rodeo
was his perfect outlet. Just hold on, focus on your balance, and let
loose. Every time he got in the ring, he was transported to another
realm, a place far from reality where he found peace for eight
seconds. He needed the rush, needed it like a drug.

As he drove along, he shuffled through his papers, looking for the

location of his next event. He was heading to Yorkville for one of the
larger rodeos of the season. A lot rode on an event of this magnitude.
He could earn enough to pay his way in gas, motels, and food for
nearly a year if he placed well. Since he never took sponsors, not
liking the responsibility, he was on his own, relying only on his God-
given ability in the ring.

His cell phone rang. Tyler dug in his breast pocket for the gadget

while driving with one hand. The stretch of highway was mostly
deserted, no one foolish enough to venture so far out into nowhere.
“Yeah.”

“Mr. Tyler James?”
“That’s me. The one and only.” He tucked the phone under his

chin to reach for the radio, flicking on his favorite station. The
familiar country and western twang filled the truck cab, giving him a
sense of peace. He’d need it for the long drive ahead of him.

Winona Wilder

“I’ve talked with you before about a sponsorship. I thought maybe

there was a miscommunication because I didn’t hear back from any of
my messages.”

“I ain’t interested in any sponsorship.”
“I think you should at least consider my offer, Mr. James. We

represent a very prestigious company. Ever hear of Cavendish Tack
and Saddles?” Of course he had. They were just the biggest name,
known by every man who called himself a cowboy. He still wasn’t
interested. There was no way he’d be some poster boy for a brand
name. He was a free agent, riding the circuit for not only the love of
it, but because it gave him freedom. A sponsorship equaled
responsibility and commitment.

“Why would you be interested in me anyway? I don’t exactly

represent a wholesome image. I’ve seen your advertisements with the
husband, wife, and two-point-five children in their Sunday finest.
Find someone else.” Tyler clicked his phone shut. The guy on the
other line would probably see it as rude, but he had no one to impress.

Tyler dug in his back pocket and pulled out his smokes. He lit up

and took a heavy drag. The smoke escaped through the open window.
This was the life—the open road, nothing but prairie for as far as the
eye could see. Out here he had no one to impress. He didn’t have to fit
society’s mold.

Another hour of driving and he pulled into Yorkville. Cars and

trucks were parked all the way out at the town limits, along the sides
of the road. Rodeos always drew in a crowd, especially the larger,
televised events. He drove down the road at a snail’s pace, being
cautious of the children playing. Riders’ families and spectators from
out of town were setting up tents and barbeques. Some larger trailers
lined the outlying fields. It would be a madhouse trying to get to the
registration desk to pick up his cards.

He double-parked next to a horse trailer he recognized. They

wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon with things just starting.
Tyler moved his saddle from the truck bed to the passenger seat and

Loving Tyler

locked the doors. Wherever a crowd gathered, theft ran rampant, and
the boogeyman often came out to play. It was the reason he kept a
Colt under the driver’s seat of his truck ever since he started traveling
on his own. He’d never be anyone’s victim again. He tossed his
leather saddlebag over his shoulder before beginning the long walk up
the road to the arena. The sun was high, but the large oaks lining the
streets provided shelter from the heat.

“Tyler!” Men waved and called out his name as he walked along.

Other drifters traveling with the circuit were kind of like family. He’d
made some good friends over the years, but at the end of the day they
went home to their real families and Tyler was back on road. He was
okay with it, but he just made sure never to get too close to anyone. It
would save everyone disappointment in the end.

He dipped his Stetson to the people who recognized him. The

grounds were bustling, and a crowd was gathered around the
registration desk. He could barely hear himself think. Tyler didn’t
have the patience to wait at the end of the line and shouldn’t have to
with his well-earned reputation. He threaded through the men to the
table at the front and leaned over. “Tyler James.”

Bobby looked up from the ledger he was busily scratching in. He

instantly recognized him. “Tyler! You want your usual number?”

“Lucky 444, as always.”
The older man reached under the table where he’d stashed the

number just for Tyler. He leaned over and slapped it on Tyler’s chest.
“First event’s in four hours.” Then he went back to serving the other
men before there was a mutiny.

Four hours to burn. After today’s event, he’d have to find

lodgings. Hotels would probably be full. He never thought ahead to
book himself a room, just went day to day. If he ran across one of his
old flames, maybe they’d share a room and have a little fun to boot.
So far, he hadn’t noticed anyone of interest.

He leaned over the split rail fence, watching some of the staff

warm up the horses in one of the holding paddocks. The big black

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stallion was exceptionally feisty. He’d probably send some men to the
local hospital before the week was through. Tyler just wanted the
chance to tame the beast, to prove to himself he had what it took. “Mr.
Tyler James?”

Tyler turned his head to see who addressed him. The guy was tall,

with dark hair and sinfully black eyes. He turned full around and
leaned both elbows back on the fence as he appreciated the man in
front of him. “That’s me. Who’s looking?”

The stranger didn’t fit the surroundings. He was dressed in a sleek

black suit, his short hair softly gelled back. “My name’s Marcus
Vinetti. I was sent by Cavendish Tack and Saddles to talk to you
about a proposition.”

His shoulders slumped. The Italian stallion was only after him for

business, a vulture to fresh meat. He instantly lost all interest in the
man and returned his attention to the horses. “Sorry, already told them
I’m not interested.”

“Could I at least speak to you over lunch or dinner? I won’t take

much of your time, and there’s no obligation.”

Tyler released an irritated breath. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to

get a free meal. The man was nice to look at, so it wouldn’t be all bad.
All he had to do was refuse the offer at the end of dinner, and he’d be
on his way.

* * * *

Marcus had fought his boss tooth and nail not to be assigned this

account. He rarely left his office in the city and now had to travel way
out to the boondocks to entice some hick to let them represent him.
He had to fight for parking, deal with unsupervised children running
wild, and inhale the stench of manure, and get his suit dusty from just
standing on the rodeo grounds. He wasn’t happy…until he saw his
target.

Loving Tyler

Tyler James had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen on a man. The

sun reflected off the golden flecks, and the moss-green color stood out
against his tanned skin. His hair was a tousled chestnut brown.
Marcus could see what his boss wanted in this young stud. He’d look
amazing on billboards and posters riding on one of the Cavendish
saddles. His track record of recent wins in the ring made him even
more appealing to the company, and the fact he hadn’t been scooped
up by the competition had been a miracle.

“No promises?”
“Absolutely not.” At least if he got him alone, he could work his

marketing magic and try to convince the cowboy to sign on with
Cavendish. If he managed to land this account, he’d be looking at a
five-figure bonus. He was already close to making partner in the
rapidly growing firm.

Tyler ran his hand through his hair. He’d been holding a Stetson

in his hand and put it on his head when he pushed off from the fence.
“Good. Now do me a favor and save the business talk until dinner. I
have an event in a few hours, and I don’t want my mind turning to
mush.”

“No problem.” He walked alongside the cowboy, trying to keep

professional and not blow this chance.

“So, you came all the way up here from the city to speak with me?

Seems a little risky to make such a long trip when I made it clear I
don’t do sponsors.”

“We like to think positive. Besides, I’ve never been to a rodeo, so

the trip won’t be a complete waste. Might be interesting.”

Tyler stopped and turned to face him. “Never been to a rodeo?

Good Lord, where have you been all your life?” He reached out and
pinched the lapel of his jacket. “This won’t do at all. Didn’t you bring
any real clothes with you?”

“Real clothes?” He briefly scanned the grounds. It seemed casual

wear—blue jeans and wifebeaters—were the norm. “No, I hadn’t
expected to stay long.”

Winona Wilder

Tyler cocked his head. “Just thought I’d up and jump at the

chance to be sponsored? You may be cute, but I’m not a complete
sucker.”

Cute? It was an odd way for a man to talk to another man. It was

probably the way country folk talked, but it still made him stop in his
tracks. Tyler continued on a few strides before he realized Marcus
was no longer beside him.

Tyler turned back. “You comin’?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.” Marcus continued to walk alongside the other

man, taking in the sights around him. Bales of hay were used as
temporary road blocks and also used by spectators as additional
seating. The sounds of animals, children, and an assortment of
practice bells sounded around them. This was so different than the
urban jungle he was used to. “So what do you do here?”

“Just about everything. I’m starting out light, doing some barrel

racing. The next couple days I’ll be riding the horses and I have one
event with the bulls. Not too crazy about them.” Tyler chuckled and
nudged him with an elbow. “Where’d I be without my looks, eh? You
wouldn’t want to sponsor a cowboy with a wrecked face.”

“Right.”
His palm against the handle of his briefcase grew slick from

perspiration. He was completely out of his element, and the rising
heat was becoming unbearable in his heavy layers of Armani. As
much as he’d love to see Tyler in action, he wanted to get into some
air-conditioning and relax with a cold drink. He was still wound up
from the long trip and had a dozen cell phone calls he had to make to
various clients.

They reached one of several practice rings. Tyler didn’t waste

time in leaping over the low fence. He walked through the hay-littered
centre of the ring with a confident stride. His shoulders were
impossibly broad and held back proudly.

Marcus sighed as his deviant nature surfaced. How could he not

notice the cowboy had a nice, hard ass? But he wasn’t supposed to

Loving Tyler

think such things. He came from a big, religious Catholic family and
such thoughts would never be condoned or forgiven. A million Hail
Marys wouldn’t even touch the sins locked up in his head. It was the
main reason he stifled all his urges, but not the only reason.
Cavendish Tack and Saddles would not keep him around if they knew
he had the potential to mar their wholesome image. Partnership was
just within his reach, so he wouldn’t blow his chance because he was
sexually confused. Recruiting fresh blood wasn’t what he wanted to
do for the rest of his life. The constant traveling threw his internal
clock completely out of whack. He liked a solid routine, predicable
income, and the cleanliness of the office. Driving at all hours, eating
at questionable establishments and sleeping at even more dubious
motels was grinding at his nerves. He was counting on getting this big
account so he’d move up a peg at work.

He watched as Tyler made small talk with the hired hands and

examined the horses. Marcus pulled a folded cloth napkin from his
pocket and mopped his brow. He looked up at the sky, not a cloud to
be seen in the great blue expanse. Fucking great.

Tyler returned to the fence, a smile still on his face from the

bantering he’d been having with the other men. “I have a few hours
until my barrel race. You wanna do this now instead of waiting for
dinner? That way you can be on your way before dark.”

Marcus got the feeling he had his work cut out for him. He needed

to sign this cowboy or there would be hell to pay when he returned to
the city. New, fresh talent was what they’d been discussing all month
in their board meetings. Tyler James was the perfect candidate. It
baffled him why he’d turn down easy money.

“Whatever you want.”
“I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” Tyler winked. Just the way he

looked at him made his groin stir. Was he purposely flirting with him?
No, he was just overly tired and obscenely attracted to the other man.
His mind was playing tricks on him.

Winona Wilder

They walked along the side of the road, dust billowing up with

each step. He worried about his black suit getting grimy. Everyone
stared in their direction, but Marcus stood out like a square peg in a
round hole in his attire. Tyler was laid-back, calling out greetings,
smiling, and rubbing the heads of little kids as they passed. “Do you
live in this town?”

“Me? No.”
“You seem to know everyone here.” Marcus tugged at his collar

and could have sworn steam escaped.

“It’s a rodeo town. We all meet up before and after events.”
“Interesting. So the same riders travel from town to town?”

Marcus enjoyed learning about new people and cultures, and this
lifestyle was completely new to him. He’d never quite found a place
where he fit in, even his life back home. He imagined it was because
half his life was a lie as he lived to please everyone but himself.

“Something like that.” Tyler turned to face him, his eyes hypnotic.

“Some people call me a drifter because I don’t have a place of my
own. Can’t really settle down when you’re constantly traveling from
one point to the next.”

Marcus wouldn’t be able to handle such instability. He even had

his clothes planned out for the week in advance. His condo was neat
as a pin, and every detail of his life could be found in his day planner.
“So, where will you stay tonight?”

Tyler grinned, appearing amused by Marcus’s concern. “Don’t

even know yet, darlin’. Suppose if I can’t find a room to rent, I’ll
crash in my truck.”

Marcus didn’t know what to say. Cowboys called everyone

darlin’, didn’t they? Including other men?

He was flabbergasted that a person could live this way and there

was a town of like-minded men willingly experiencing the same
thing. He knew the cowboy did well for himself with his rodeo
earnings or Cavendish wouldn’t have been interested in him. How
could anyone choose this?

Loving Tyler

Still, he wouldn’t dare say something stupid and insult the man he

needed to impress. He had to remind himself he was here for business
only.

“No family?”
“No family.”
Marcus kept his mouth shut before he put his foot in it. He

couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be alone in the world. He
had so many brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins that he was
never truly on his own. There was always someone stopping by or
calling, whether it was welcomed or not. Sometimes he wished he
could cut the ties to his relatives and know what it felt like to truly be
himself—no expectations, no putting on a mask, and no suffocation.

They reached their destination after a brief walk. The diner was a

fifties-styles train car set up just down the main street. A classic
greasy spoon, if ever he saw one. Marcus kept a strict diet that didn’t
include garbage like an abundance of carbs, fat, sugar, and other
empty calories. He went to the gym four times a week on his way
home from work, and added matcha to nearly everything he ate.
Health was important to him, but he wasn’t such a stickler that he’d
embarrass Tyler by refusing to eat. Surely they’d have something
light on the menu.

“Tyler James!” Several patrons in the diner called out when they

entered. Little bells chimed on the glass when the door shut behind
them, making Marcus briefly whirl around.

“Where’s Jet at? Ain’t seen him around lately.”
Tyler frowned, his jovial nature fading quickly. “I’m not his

keeper. You’re asking the wrong man, Carl.” He laid a hand on
Marcus’s shoulder and guided him to a booth at the end of the aisle. “I
think we should take a booth, especially if you want to give me your
whole spiel about sponsorship without getting interrupted.”

They sat across from each other, sunlight dancing on the cracked

linoleum surface of the table. He couldn’t possibly sit for an hour in
his tailored jacket. Even though unprofessional, he leaned forward

Winona Wilder

and shrugged out of the material and carefully laid it beside him,
folded over once so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

When he shifted to give Tyler his attention, the other man was

already staring at him as if Marcus was an oddity he’d never come
across. “I thought maybe it was your jacket, but you have some nice,
broad shoulders on you.”

“Me? Thank you, I guess.” He forced himself to smooth out the

wrinkle in his brow. The cowboy continually confused him, but again,
he knew nothing of this subculture of country folk.

“Do you work out?” Tyler reached across the table, beckoning for

his hand. He reached out, uncertain what the man wanted from him.
Would he fail this test, if it even was a test? Were his hands too soft,
too smooth from working behind a computer most of the day? He
imagined Tyler’s were firm and calloused from gripping handfuls of
leather reins during his events. The thought of the cowboy touching
him with those rough hands got his heart beating double time.

“I try to take care of my body.”
Tyler used both his hands to massage one of Marcus’s, twisting it

this way and that, examining his fingers and palm. Then his hands
went higher, testing the muscles in his forearm. Could he feel the
tension in his body? Marcus felt more coiled than a spring, uncertain
to what he should be feeling about another man. “I can imagine what
you look like under that fancy shirt. You probably have toned pecs
and ripped abs, don’t you?”

“Flavor of the week, Tyler?” A middle-aged blonde woman broke

the spell, saving him from answering. She had a conspiratorial smirk
as she plucked a pen from behind her ear and poised it above a small
pad.

“Dara, don’t start with me, woman. Give me my usual.” Tyler

pulled away, his light-hearted voice becoming perturbed. He turned to
Marcus, the anger quickly dissipating. “What do you want, sweet
thing?”

Loving Tyler

He swallowed hard, feeling aghast and flattered all at once.

“Um…Do you have salad?”

“Salad? Are you a cow? Give him what I’m having, Dara, and

give us some damn privacy.”

“Whatever you say, Berton Wells.” She laughed as she sashayed

back to the kitchen.

Tyler was shaking his head when he returned his attention to

Marcus. “Don’t mind her. She’s out to destroy me.” He chuckled and
began fiddling with the sugar packets on the table.

“Who’s Berton Wells?”
“It’s just a stupid nickname they gave me a couple years ago, and

it stuck.” He scrubbed his stubbled jaw. “It was the name of one of
the most famous stud horses in these parts. You get the idea…”

“Oh, I see, you’re a hit with the ladies, are you?” Why did it make

him feel jealous and defensive? He should be used to being a
minority, desiring men who obviously were only into women. But the
little hints and names of endearment made Marcus feel special. Tyler
looked at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “I guess
Cavendish didn’t do their research before sending you all the way
down here. I’m sure they wouldn’t want my sexual preference in the
headlines.”

“What do you mean?”
“Darlin’, I like men, only men. I thought everyone knew it. Lord

knows I’ve never tried to hide the fact.” The waitress came back with
two large Cokes and set them on the table. Tyler pulled back and
leaned against the vinyl bench seat.

“I—”
Tyler took a drink. Marcus was too in shock to look the other man

in the eye. He only studied the ring of moisture left on the table from
the glass as his mind processed information at an alarming rate. All
the signs were there—the cute names, the touching. But he’d always
associated gay men with the typical stereotype of annoying
femininity, chicks with dicks as he commonly thought of them. It was

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just one of many reasons he refused to acknowledge the fact he
wasn’t heterosexual.

The cowboy sitting across from him, watching him with those

deep green eyes, was everything a man should be—strong, confident
and masculine. He was right about Cavendish. They’d never accept a
gay man as their poster boy. It was the same reason Marcus kept his
feelings of confusion to himself. He even dated women occasionally
to appease his family and appear normal in the eyes of his peers, but
those were brief encounters and never lasted. God knows he tried to
like women, but he was just hardwired different than most.

For years he tried to convince himself he was going through a

phase, that he’d start desiring the opposite sex any time, but it never
happened. The guilt ate him a bit each day until he made the decision
to ignore his impulses and focus on work. Stifling his sexuality had
him pent-up and irritable most days, but he expelled that energy at the
gym and through frequent mediation.

“Cat got your tongue?”
He refocused on the here and now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Sorry for what? Do I look like I need pity?”
A silence no graveyard had known lingered around their small

booth. Marcus wanted to take back his words, not sure if he should
apologize or hightail it and run. They were saved by the rattle of two
heavy porcelain plates being unceremoniously dropped on their table.
Marcus turned to the lady. “Thank you.”

“No problem, handsome. You’re not from around here, are you?”

She leaned on her hip, awaiting his response.

“Leave him be, Dara. He’s with me.”
Marcus’s eyes darted to Tyler. The cowboy gave him a discreet

wink.

“He’ll only break your heart, sweetheart.” The waitress waltzed

off, stopping at the other booths to check on customers.

“She thinks you’re gay.” Tyler laughed. “But don’t be offended. I

only date the best.” He began to eat the French fries she’d left as if

Winona Wilder

Chapter Two

Tyler felt a bit sorry for the sucker sent to sign him up for a

sponsorship. He never planned to join Cavendish, and now the man
they’d sent knew they wouldn’t want him. The city slicker was
tongue-tied, but Tyler wouldn’t sweat it. He’d take his free meal and
be done with it. Why did all the hottest guys have to be straight? The
look of shock on the city boy’s face proved he’d never walked off the
beaten path in his life. If he had of showed any sign of interest, Tyler
would have loved to rock his world.

The silence during the following half hour was tense. It only made

Tyler eager to get around friends who loved him, feel the thrill of
riding in competition, and fuck the first man who offered him a room
for the night. Fast living. It was what he needed, especially right now,
faced with too much reality.

“Well…thanks for lunch.” Tyler stood up, stretching his

shoulders. “Guess you’re anxious to get back to civilization, so I’ll be
going.”

As soon as he burst out of the diner, he could breathe again. He

looked up at the blue skies, inhaled deeply, and let the rest roll off his
back. Marcus was gorgeous but no more than a figment of his
imagination, here today, gone tomorrow. No sense replaying
everything over in his head. The man was probably repulsed by him.
He needed to get his shit together before the event.

He walked back down the main street. It was true about time

being the cure for all things. Every step he took made him less and
less anxious. He had nothing to prove, so why should he feel guilty
for who and what he was? Tyler supposed the recent events with Jet

Loving Tyler

Cartwright had him off his best. If he wasn’t good enough for Jet to
settle down with, why would anybody else ever want him for more
than cheap thrills? It wasn't like Jet was his boyfriend, or they had
anything serious going on. They had sex, hung out for a few beers
after events, but that was the gist of it. It still cut him down a peg
when he found out Jet had established a serious, loving relationship
with a hot, young cowboy. What was wrong with Tyler? Jet had never
even proposed anything serious between them, not that he would have
agreed anyway. Fuck! His head was a mess. Tyler didn’t do
vulnerable, and right now he was totally out of character.

“Hey!”
He turned around, almost having reached the rodeo grounds.

Marcus was running up the street, briefcase in one hand, Tyler’s
Stetson in the other. He looked like a fish out of water.

“You forgot your hat!”
“Thanks for that,” he said flatly. He ran a hand through his hair

before fitting his hat into place. After a quick nod, he continued on his
way. The sound of Marcus’s shoes on the gravel roadside kept pace
with his own steps. “You following me?”

“You said I could watch you compete. There’s no sense in rushing

off right away. Like I told you, I’ve never seen a rodeo.”

“Suit yourself,” he said without stopping.
“If you were interested, I don’t have to tell Cavendish about…you

know. I mean, if that’s the reason you’re not willing to accept the
sponsorship, I’m sure we could work something out.”

The man didn’t give up. Tyler wouldn’t be caught dead being

represented a company only interested in an image that wasn’t the real
him. He wasn’t one to conform to fit the expectations of others. It got
the snot kicked out of him as a teen, but he wouldn’t have it any other
way. Now he was a man, with the muscle to back himself up, and he
dared anyone to challenge his choices.

“I’m not a sell-out. Money isn’t the most important thing in life.

That’s something you should try to remember if nothing else.” They

Winona Wilder

reached the fence keeping out the spectators. “But then again you’re a
businessman from the big smoke. You’re probably taught early on
that money is greater than God.”

Marcus’s features set hard. “Actually no. You shouldn’t be so

quick to judge others. You know nothing about me as a person, only
that I represent Cavendish. It doesn’t mean I agree with their ideals. I
have a life beyond nine to five.”

Tyler hadn’t expected him to talk back since he’d been quiet and

accommodating until now. His passion amused Tyler. He backed the
other man against the fence, eager to test his suspicions. Although
Marcus was slightly taller than his six-foot-two frame, Tyler was
thicker, more built. The city boy was all lean muscle, probably from
working the gym, not hard work under the sun.

“So you don’t have a problem with gay men?” He braced an arm

on either side of him, caging him in. Tyler wanted to watch him
squirm, for him to take back what he said and admit he was no better
than the bigots at Cavendish. Or something else…

Marcus swallowed hard, trying to lean away from him. “Of course

not.”

“Really? It doesn’t disgust you that I fuck other men?”
The city boy kept silent, but held his gaze, which surprised him.

Then Marcus shrugged, not giving him an answer one way or the
other. The man was nice to look at, too nice. His soft waves of jet
black hair, dark, narrow eyes, and thick, kissable lips were distracting.
Tyler would love to spend the night exploring his body, teaching him
every kind of erotic pleasure, but he wasn’t on the market. He never
pushed his lifestyle on others—he didn’t have to. There weren’t too
many nights he was forced to spend alone, although most of the
cowboys he screwed around with lived two lives and demanded Tyler
keep their sexuality a secret.

“I don’t judge others.”
“You’re a rarity then. Even I judge by appearances without

realizing it.” He had to fight back the urge to fix a lock of Marcus’s

Loving Tyler

hair, to run the backs of his fingers along his strong jaw. “Like when I
first saw you. I only saw the suit.”

“Fair enough. I suppose I expected an uneducated, middle-aged

hick when I came out here.”

Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “And what do you think now that

you’ve met me?” He gripped the wooden fence harder, trying to will
away the swelling below his belt.

“My perception of cowboys has changed.”
“In what way?” Lord he wanted Marcus to spill it out, to admit

there was something between them more than just two potential
business associates. He could sense something deeper, something
sensual, but wasn’t going to be the first one to say something.

“You take care of your body. You’re young. You’d look great on

a billboard for Cavendish.” Marcus licked his lips. Was his breathing
picking up?

“So you only see the potential profits when you look at me?”
“No. Maybe.” He shifted uneasily, pulling his briefcase higher as

a partition between them.

Tyler felt disappointment assail him. “It’s one thing if you wanted

to use me for my body—that I can handle. But when you want to use
me to increase your bottom line, I don’t want any part of it.”

* * * *

Marcus had to keep his briefcase in front of his crotch to disguise

his hard-on. He knew he wasn’t normal since before puberty, but
continually fought what he knew was the truth. Maybe one day he’d
wake up normal and desire women, not men. No such luck.

Tyler was playing a dangerous game. It seemed he was taunting

him, pushing him to admit he was indeed gay. Part of him wanted to
give in and admit he was desperately attracted to the cowboy, but the
logical, more dominant part of his brain continued to live in denial.
Once he admitted to being attracted to Tyler, it would be over. No

Winona Wilder

more second-guessing himself because he’d be one-hundred percent
gay, no going back. It would change his life, most likely in a very
negative way. He’d played the scenario over and over in his head at
night for years—he’d lose his job, alienate his family, be laughed at
by friends, and grow old and lonely before he died and went to hell.

Even with the gloom in his head, it was hard to keep holding back

when those green eyes seemed to look into his soul. Even at twenty-
eight Marcus was a fucking virgin, which wasn’t much better than
thinking he was homosexual. He’d kissed a couple girls, but never a
man. Soft, fragile, feminine bodies did absolutely nothing for his
libido.

Taking in Tyler’s thick neck, broad shoulders, biceps bulging on

either side of him, was too much to subject him to. His oversexed,
tightly wound body was ready to explode. What would it feel like to
touch a man, to touch Tyler? Knowing the cowboy was gay and
sexually experienced made the situation more real, and made the
possibilities harder to ignore.

“I’m not trying to use you. If I don’t get my commission for this

deal, I’ll handle it. It’s not every day a cowboy gets the chance to be
represented by the country’s biggest saddle-maker. I’d hate for you to
miss a good opportunity. “

“To wear a logo on my back? To smile pretty for the camera,

maybe have a buckle bunny hanging off me?” He dropped his arms to
his sides and stepped back.

“If you’re not interested, I’ll leave. But I came all this way. Can I

at least watch you compete in one event? Or would I be a bad luck
charm?”

“It’s a public event, and you’re free to watch.” He reached out and

snagged the length of his tie, tugging him forward. “Time will tell if
you’re good or bad luck.”

He nodded, his throat too clogged with desire to speak.

Loving Tyler

“If you’re smart, you’ll get out of your fancy clothes before the

crowd eats you alive. You stand out like a sore thumb, and these
people don’t take kindly to strangers.”

Marcus hadn’t packed a bag. He’d never expected to stay

overnight. This was supposed to be a quick account—come flash
some money and fame in front of a hick’s face and be done with it.
The refusal was one shocker, but the worst was how much Marcus
craved to let everything go for one night with the cowboy. Maybe
after a little private experimentation in the boondocks he’d know
which side of the tracks he was on.

“This is all I have.”
“Come on. I’ll let you use some of my duds. I still have a couple

hours to kill,” said Tyler, tugging his tie until he followed behind him.
He looked to the sides to see if anyone was watching. They were. The
scene must look mildly erotic, in the least, affectionate. What had he
gotten himself into? Thank God he was far from home and anyone
who may recognize him.

The familiar melody of an ice cream truck chimed as it came up

the street in their direction. Children he hadn’t noticed previously
seemed to come out of the woodwork, running for the box-style white
truck. Cicadas droned to a near deafening pitch, reminding him just
how overly heated he still was.

“You like ice cream?” asked Tyler, a smile on his lips as he eyed

the growing crowd of kids.

“It’s fattening.”
Tyler scoffed. “Like you need to lose weight. Come on, you need

to live a little.”

As they neared the truck, the idling engine nearly drowned out by

the chatter of excited children, Tyler cleared a path. He scrubbed the
heads of young boys and pulled the ponytails of little girls. They
loved him, called him by name, and grabbed onto his clothes trying to
climb him, fighting for attention. Marcus stood back at a safe
distance, not willing to get sticky little fingers all over his good suit.

Winona Wilder

“Little scoundrels! Let me get my ice cream, and maybe I’ll buy

y’all a treat.” He ordered two vanilla ice cream cones and then gave
the attendant behind the window several bills, telling him to pass out
ice cream to the small group of children.

Tyler passed him one of the cones, and they moved into a private

area behind one of the out buildings, overlooking a holding paddock
where the horses grazed peacefully. An oversized weeping willow
danced magically in the slight breeze just behind the wooden fence.

Marcus took a tentative taste of his ice cream. He hadn’t had such

an indulgence since he was a child. When he shifted his gaze to Tyler,
the other man was already staring at him. He’d been mindlessly
licking his cone, not realizing the cowboy wasn’t doing the same.

“You have some on your face,” Tyler nearly whispered. A gentle

breeze fluttered the leaves in the big oak, which was providing them
some welcome shade. They were in their own perfect bubble of time
and space, but it was wrong to feel so, wasn’t it?

Tyler used the pad of his thumb to clean a smear of ice cream

from Marcus’s cheek. The touch was sensual, and he instinctively
leaned into his hand. “It’s melting,” he said as the sticky substance
rolled down his knuckles. Tyler didn’t hesitate in leaning down to lick
the rim of the cone clean. Marcus was a self-confessed germaphobe,
but there was nothing gross about Tyler’s tongue on his food. In fact,
he could imagine his tongue doing the exact same thing to his cock,
teasing his head, lapping at his release.

When Tyler stood up, he was breathing heavily. He pressed his

chest to Marcus’s, backing him up against the fence. “You should be
more careful. It’s a scorcher out, and you’ll lose your treat.”

Marcus averted his attention to the field behind Tyler, pretending

to focus on something of great interest. If he didn’t, he’d give in to his
deviant desires and end up doing something he’d regret. They walked
to Tyler’s pickup truck parked on the outskirts of the city. By now
Marcus was sweating profusely, almost faint from heat exhaustion.
When he was young he’d suffered from asthma, but had outgrown the

Loving Tyler

worst of it. The heat and humidity combined with his nerves were
taking their toll on his lungs.

He waited while Tyler rummaged through a duffel bag in the cab

of his truck. He shoved the folded up wad of clothing into the saddle
bag he carried over his shoulder and proceeded to lock the door.
“Okay then. We’ll get a room so you can change.”

When they made it to a less-than-stellar motel just off the main

road, Tyler spoke to the attendant before they could welcome them. “I
know you’re probably booked solid. I’m not asking for a room for the
night, just for the hour. Can you do that for me?”

“Mr. James, we still have two rooms vacant. They aren’t the best,

but the price is right.”

“You’re talking my language, son.” The young motel employee

tossed Tyler a set of keys which he caught in a ready fist.

Marcus wondered what “aren’t the best” implied, especially when

the motel was in dire need of maintenance. He expected insects,
bedbugs, stained toilets, and dirty linen. He internally cringed,
wondering how anyone could actually stay the night in such a
shithole.

“You didn’t have to get a room just for me to change,” he said as

he entered the door Tyler held open for him. The heavy curtains were
pulled so the interior was dim. After the door thudded shut, strong
hands were on his shoulders from behind, peeling his heavy suit
jacket down his arms. A tingle of excitement ran up his spine.

“I’ll need it tonight anyway. You’re welcome to bunk with me if

you’re too beat for the drive home tonight. I’m never against sharing a
room.” Tyler tossed his expensive jacket on the questionable
bedspread. He eyed it for a moment, tempted to pick it up and set it
somewhere else.

“No, I couldn’t stay here.”
“You’re probably used to the best, aren’t you? What do you find

so unsavory about the place? It’s relatively clean for one of their
bargain rooms.”

Winona Wilder

Marcus loosened his tie, trying to think of something that

wouldn’t be taken as an insult. He was beginning to feel like a jerk.
“There’s no air-conditioning.”

“Real men don’t need all those luxuries. Your body’s just spoiled.

You’ll adapt to the elements after a while.”

“Well, I don’t plan to stick around that long. Besides, it’s not just

the discomfort. I have a hard time breathing when it’s this hot and
humid. I’ve had trouble with my lungs since I was a kid.” He took a
deep breath, feeling claustrophobic and not just from the heat.

Tyler approached him, a sympathetic look on his face. He ran the

pad of his thumb under Marcus’s lower lip, collecting the moisture.
“You’re sweating something fierce. Didn’t know it was a medical
thing, darlin’. Forget what I said about real men. There ain’t finer
than you.”

The cowboy didn’t pull away, rather began unbuttoning his

starched shirt. He never protested, even though the act felt so intimate
and crossed too many boundaries to fathom. “You’re about my size.
I’m sure my clothes will fit just fine.” Tyler pushed the shirt over his
shoulders. Sinfully slow. The way the man devoured him with his
eyes made his dick jump to life. When his rough, cowboy hands
followed the same path his eyes just traveled, he bolted back.

“What are you doing?” And why the fuck did his touch feel so

damned good? After the brief physical contact he wanted to give
himself to Tyler completely. His mind was more a muddle than it had
ever been.

“You’re fucking perfect, Marcus. I knew you’d be even more

appealing once I got your shirt off.” A raw hunger danced in Tyler’s
eyes. But he didn’t really know this man at all. Did he bring men back
to these cheap motel rooms in every town? Would Marcus be his
rodeo bitch? He wanted to run away and hit the highway as much as
he wanted to give in to the cowboy’s ministrations.

Loving Tyler

Chapter Three

Tyler never pushed himself on straight men. It wasn’t his style.

Sure, there were many men on the circuit who were uncomfortable
that he was openly gay, but most just accepted him. Marcus was
clean-cut and professional. Tyler guessed it took a lot for him to lose
his patience, a politically correct, customer service type. The people
he knew would eat him alive, take advantage of his good nature.
Normally Tyler would, too, but he wanted more than just a free meal
or other perks. He wanted the man.

He’d kept his distance until he began to sense more from the dark-

haired angel. Either he was a closeted gay or curious. Either way, his
hooded eyes and parted lips pulled Tyler in like an experienced
wrangler to a new calf.

Marcus probably had no idea how much Tyler held back. He

continued to touch the other man since he hadn’t pushed him away.
His body was hard, lean-muscled, and an exotic golden hue. When he
reached the belt to his suit pants, Marcus gasped and gripped Tyler’s
wrist in a tight fist.

“I can get that,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“It’ll be more fun if I help you.” Until the other man told him to

fuck off, he wouldn’t back away. He wanted to feel Marcus’s cock,
weigh his balls in his palm, and taste the flavor of his cum. More time
than usual had passed since he’d hooked up with a lover, and his body
was painfully pent-up. The fact that the man alone in his room was
sexier than any he’d ever met didn’t help his frustrated predicament.
It may not be the wisest decision to have sex right before an event, but
he couldn’t turn back the sequence of events and didn’t want to.

Winona Wilder

“But—” Marcus’s grip loosened, but he still held Tyler’s wrist in

a loose hold. He continued to unbuckle and unzip the man’s pants
until they fell heavily to his feet. The tight boxer briefs hugged his
erection like a second skin. That big, beautiful cock was confirmation
that he enjoyed Tyler’s touch, wanted this party to continue.

Tyler tugged off his own shirt and tossed it. He took a deep

cleansing breath when he refocused on the hard body in front of him.
“Are you new at this?”

“I’ve never been with a man. I’m not gay.”
“Do you know what gay even means, darlin’?” Tyler placed

Marcus’s palm on his chest. “It just means you’re interested in men. It
doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or less of a human.” He could feel
Marcus’s fingers tentatively test his muscled pec. It made his cock
harden and pulse race. “Go on, touch me. Ain’t nothing wrong with
taking what you want.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” Marcus whispered.
“I don’t believe you. I think you know it feels damn right, but

you’re scared of doing what others judge as wrong. I know all about
it.” Tyler decided to make a bold move, one which would stop
everything in its tracks or bring it to the next level. He reached out,
pulled the waistband of Marcus’s boxers down, and freed his cock. It
was dark and ripe, pointing up like a virile arrow, slightly pulling to
the left. Damn beautiful sight. Tyler grabbed the base of his dick,
holding firm and gave it a few trial pumps.

Marcus dug his fingers into Tyler’s muscles and groaned, a

throaty sound of approval. He kept going, pumping his cock over and
over. When he was sure the city boy was past the point of no return,
he leaned over and kissed his neck, licking a trail up to his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus muttered, his eyes closed and head lolling

back on his shoulders.

“That’s a boy. Now you get it, don’t you?” Tyler didn’t kiss him

on the lips. He never kissed. Intimacy and sex were two different
beasts, and he didn’t do intimacy. But he nipped along his jawline as

Loving Tyler

he continued to stroke his erection. He could feel his girth thickening
the longer he fucked him with his hand.

“I’m going to hell.”
“You’re going places, but hell ain’t one of them. I promise it’ll

feel like heaven.”

Tyler lowered to his knees in front of Marcus until his cock was

bouncing in front of his face. He needed to suck more than breath.
When he swallowed the swollen head, he exhaled from sheer ecstasy.
Having the other man’s dick between his tongue and palate, so silky
and hard at the same time, was truly heaven on earth.

“Oh, my God…” Marcus grabbed a shoulder in each hand as he

wobbled on his feet. Tyler could taste the tart pre-cum already, and he
didn’t want the show to end before the main event. He sucked and
licked the warm shaft in the way he knew would drive Marcus wild.
Tyler was known for giving good head, and right now he was proud
to give the city boy this level of raw pleasure.

As he deep-throated the full length of hardened flesh, he reached

around and cupped Marcus’s tight ass in his palms. He began to run
his hands through Tyler’s hair, pulling a little too tight, but it hurt so
fucking good.

Tyler inched closer to the gold, caressing the tight, puckered

asshole. Marcus shuddered and clamped down tight. He could just
imagine how good he’d feel around his cock. Tyler pressed the pad of
his finger at the man’s ass as he sucked his cock. Every few seconds
he sank a bit deeper until the tip of his finger was just inside his
entrance.

“Fuck, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.”
Tyler pulled away his hand and mouth. When he stood he was

tempted to kiss the dark-eyed beauty, to feel his lips and tongue
meshing with his own. “Not yet, sweet thing. I want to feel my dick in
your pretty little ass.”

“No. I can’t.”

Winona Wilder

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.” Tyler chuckled. Had he ever

known a virgin? It seemed men on the circuit were born into sin.

“I already told you I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. And I

don’t think I can.”

Tyler wasn’t turning back now. Not with his own dick painfully

engorged. He unbuckled his pants as he backed Marcus against the
wall. Once he had him pinned, he pulled out his cock. “Touch me.”

Marcus licked his lips, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. His gaze

dipped between them. “I’ve never touched a man.”

“Surely you’ve touched yourself. Ain’t any different.”
He moved slower than rising bread. When he finally caressed him,

Tyler nearly lost all control. Many of his bedmates liked to play
rough, play dirty, so going slow and tender was frustrating. “You’re
big.” Marcus played with his cock, teasing without trying.

Tyler kicked off his boots and pants, and spun Marcus around to

face the wall, like a cop to a perpetrator. They were both naked, and
his erection fit snugly between Marcus’s ass cheeks. He pressed
forward to make certain he could feel the rigid line of his cock. “Tell
me how that feels, baby doll.” He thrust up and down, dry humping
his ass.

“Good,” he whispered. “So good.”
“Get on the bed, Marcus. Lie on your stomach.” As the other man

complied, he searched his saddlebag for a tube of lube and condom.
He was never without his essentials. He may play the field, but he
wasn’t foolish enough to ride bareback with a stranger, even a virgin.

He approached the bed. Marcus was on his stomach, propped up

on his elbows. His back was toned to perfection, his ass firm, round
globes. He added lube to his sheathed cock as he approached. Just the
thought of sinking deep made him dizzy with desire. “The bedding
doesn’t smell fresh,” said Marcus.

“Don’t worry about the linens, darlin’. Worry about the nine

inches about to fuck your ass.” He bent one knee up on the bed and
positioned himself for entry. “Make sure you relax for me. No

Loving Tyler

tightening up.” Tyler pressed the head of his cock at the tight rosette.
He was tighter than a clenched fist.

“Bad idea,” Marcus complained, attempting to turn around. Tyler

held him in place with a hand to his back. “It’ll hurt.”

“I know you’re scared. It’ll hurt for just for a sec, and then it’ll

feel plenty good. I promise.” He forced an inch inside his tight ass.
The man moaned when he breached his unforgiving anal ring. The
worst was over. Any minute and Marcus would learn what he’d been
missing all these years. Tyler would show him.

* * * *

Marcus had never been so aroused in all his life. As soon as Tyler

touched his bare dick, he knew in an instant that he was one-hundred
percent gay. He wanted more, he wanted it all. When he sucked him
into his hot, wet mouth he knew he’d beg if the man stopped. It felt so
good, so intense. Heat radiated through his body and his balls pulled
up tight.

Reality didn’t reemerge until Tyler mentioned taking a cock in his

ass. He knew that was what men did, but it scared him. There would
be no turning back if they had real sex. Once he allowed a man to take
his virginity, to fuck his ass, it would be a mental confirmation of his
sexual status. He didn’t want to lose his job or his family, but he also
couldn’t pretend to be somebody else for the rest of his life. Marcus
was so tired of playing a starring role that wasn’t his to play. It was
time to come out, to take what he wanted, not what he knew others
expected of him.

He could feel the cowboy’s huge cock fighting for entrance. It

was hard to relax and accept him as Tyler suggested. He was so tense,
so nervous, so lost. That first thrust brought tears to his eyes both
from the pain and the loss. But as Tyler slowly fed the full length of
his rigid cock into his ass, it proceeded smoothly, only an
uncomfortable pressure left. He could feel the partial weight of the

Winona Wilder

cowboy drop over him, feel the heat from his skin against his back.
Tyler planted kisses over his shoulder blades and neck. Never did he
thrust or move, only throbbed inside him as he adjusted to the
invasion. Marcus appreciated the kind gesture, considering they were
strangers and didn’t owe each other a favor.

Tyler whispered in his ear, “You did it.” In a way it was a hurdle

in his life, something that had to happen and was long overdue. He
could hear the genuine pride in Tyler’s voice, and it made him feel
special, victorious.

The cowboy began to move, the sensation of each thrust sent

Marcus’s nerves into overdrive. Every sensation felt magnified and
vibrant, pulling him deeper and deeper into an erotic web. His cock
was pinned painfully against the mattress where he couldn’t reach.
The mix of pleasure and pain twisted into a deep-seated longing for
more of the same.

“You okay?” Tyler asked. He nodded, too focused to speak. All

he wanted was more friction, more new sensations from his cowboy
lover. Then Tyler’s strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him to
the edge of the bed. “Walk to the wall with my dick in your ass.”

Tyler’s hard-on bent and tugged inside him as he moved. When he

nearly reached the wall he stretched out his arms and braced himself,
his upper body on an angle. “Give me more,” he begged.

“Darlin’, use one hand for support and use the other to fuck

yourself. We’re gonna come together.” Tyler was so raw, so untamed.
Every word he said in that sexy Southern drawl sparked life into his
long dormant body.

He wrapped a fist around his girth and pumped, matching the

rhythm Tyler kept in his ass. It was exquisite. The double stimulation
had his eyes rolling back in his head. Streaks of light passed by his
vision and he felt the pressure building and building in his balls. His
pending release would rival all others by his hand.

“Damn, you’re tight. You’re hugging my dick so tight I can’t hold

off another second.” He growled behind him, a feral sound which

Loving Tyler

only excited him. His cultivated, lackluster lifestyle in the city could
never compare to this untamed abandon. “I’m gonna fill you with my
seed, sweet thing.”

“Do it!” He pumped his shaft three more times and he exploded.

Marcus called out as a wide arch of white ejaculate sprayed the wall.
Moments later, Tyler rammed him hard, growling his own release.
They stayed frozen in time for a long moment before the cowboy
gently slid out of his ass.

Now what? Marcus felt a new vulnerability. Since he never did

relationships, he’d never known heartbreak or the intense need now
surfacing under his skin. Now he’d have to man up and watch his first
lover walk out of his life.

Winona Wilder

Chapter Four

Tyler knew Marcus had watched him barrel race. He felt his stare

as he prodded his horse around the sharp corners. The cheering crowd
didn’t fill him with the same enthusiasm as it always had. Why
couldn’t he focus? The city boy had transformed into a country and
western cover model once he’d donned Tyler’s old jeans and T-shirt.
He couldn’t stop envisioning him or remembering the hot sex. He’d
actually taken the man’s virginity, forced him to accept his dormant
sexuality. It felt like a heavy responsibility, and it ate away at him.
Tyler always avoided commitment, which was the reason he refused
to be sponsored by Cavendish or anyone else, company or individual.
Fucking around, guilt-free one-night stands, and living large were his
way of life.

Now his world was tilting off its axis.
He didn’t even wait for the winners to be announced before he

leapt over the wooden fence. Fans and friends patted him on the back.
The crowd was thick and the noise deafening. Tyler couldn’t find
Marcus, not even where he’d spotted him in his peripheral vision
during the event. Had he imagined him? He continued to search the
grounds, weaving through the throngs of spectators, feeling
desperation creep up his neck.

“You see the man I was with earlier?” he asked one of the hired

hands.

“Nope.”
He ran up the main road to the diner, bursting through the glass

door, half out of breath. “Dara, you see the man I was with earlier?”

“No, but I wish he’d pay me a visit.” She winked.

Loving Tyler

He made haste getting out, ignoring the chorus of laughter. What

was wrong with him? When had a quick fuck ever stayed in his
thoughts? The closest he’d gotten to another man was Jet Cartwright,
but even that was just a familiarity, not the longing he now felt as he
searched for the city boy. After an extensive exploration, he gave up,
leaning against one of the barns. He felt hot and clammy, but knew he
had another round to get set up for. The Saddle Bronc competition
would need his full concentration and strength, but his mind was
elsewhere and his body weary from running around like a fool.

All he could surmise was that he needed an agent to help him

forget—alcohol. It was the substance he used to escape the past, and
now he’d use it to escape the present. It pissed him off that he’d
allowed emotion to creep into his being. Tyler had even been tempted
to ask Marcus to stay the night with him, not to split the cost of the
room, but because he wanted to make love to him—which was
ridiculous.

* * * *

Marcus felt like a stupid, jilted teenager. It had been sex with a

drifter, nothing more. If anything, he should have thanked Tyler for
opening his eyes, helping him accept what he knew was there all
along. Now it was time to face the music.

As he’d watched Tyler ride his horse in competition—cowboy

hat, leather chaps, number 444 pinned to his back—he knew one night
would never be enough. He wanted it all, and knew he couldn’t have
it with a wildcard like Tyler. It was time for him to suck it up like a
man and return to the city.

He got in his sedan, pumped the air-conditioning, and stared at the

windshield for nearly twenty minutes. The shirt he wore smelled like
Tyler, rich musk and the great outdoors. He had to return home to his
empty condo, back to his fake life, the one he led to keep everyone
else happy.

Winona Wilder

There was a loud rap on the driver’s side window, pulling him

from his reverie. When he turned to the side, an old man with a salt-
and-pepper beard and straw hat scowled through the glass barrier.
Marcus used his control panel to lower the window a few inches,
unsure what the uncouth-looking man wanted from him.

“Can I help you?”
“Marcus Vita-something, I take it?”
He nodded. “Vinetti.”
A few other men joined him from behind. “Then I suggest you get

your butt back to the event because we ain’t letting you leave town
until you do.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me? I’ll inform you I do have a cell

phone, and it will only take me one minute to call your local sheriff.”

The old man laughed, along with his counterparts. “The sheriff’s

looking for you, too. Tyler James refuses to ride his event until we all
find you. I, for one, have a lot of money riding on that boy.”

Tyler wanted him? Actually sent these crazed country folks out

looking for him? He felt a rush of excitement swirl around inside him.

He followed his escorts back to the rodeo grounds. “I’m not gay,”

he said, unsure why he felt the need to blurt out the information to the
group of men.

A couple of them laughed, and then the old man said, “No man is

before he spends a night with Tyler James. After that, not so sure.”

Okay, he was gay and for some reason infatuated with a cowboy

he had no business falling for. Like half the fucking town professed,
Tyler was a playboy, ready to screw any man who showed him
interest. Marcus didn’t want to be a number, a passing fancy at one of
his stops. He wanted to be special, like he felt right now because
Tyler had sent for him. How long would the fantasy last?

“Look who we found trying to split town,” said his captor as they

approached the abandoned side of an outbuilding. Marcus could hear
the roar of the crowd around the corner. He felt inept as Tyler gave
him the once-over. He was leaning against the building with one boot

Loving Tyler

propped up, a cigarette between his fingers. When he gave a push off
and moved towards Marcus, he also waved the other men away. “Tell
them to give me ten and I’ll be there.”

They scattered, leaving the two men alone in the secluded spot in

an otherwise overrun town. “Leaving without saying good-bye?”

“I thought it would be appropriate. I didn’t want to make a big

fuss.” He coughed slightly from the smoke.

Tyler flicked the cigarette butt away. “Sorry, darlin’. I know about

your lungs. I’m gonna stop the filthy habit just for you.”

“That’s a good idea. It’s bad for your health.”
The cowboy smirked. “How about you stay and watch me one

more time, no running off, then we’ll talk for a bit.”

Marcus’s heart clenched. He couldn’t let the cowboy play with his

emotions and expectations like this. He prided himself on being a
modern, successful businessman. He was well respected, took care of
his health, and had family that loved him. But here he was, ready to
throw it all away from one more night with the drifter. Fuck, he was
messed up bad. “Talk about what? How you’ll be moving on to the
next rodeo town in a week, fucking the next clueless man who shows
you attention?” Where did that come from? Marcus was not a jealous
man, nor did he have a temper. Now he felt like a volcano ready to
lose its top just thinking about Tyler moving on with his life without
him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Tyler cupped his face, leaned

in, and kissed him once on the lips. Those lips were perfect, firm yet
soft, and just as precious on his lips as they were wrapped around his
cock.

“Don’t patronize me.”
“Don’t use fancy words with me, darlin’. It makes my dick hard

for you.”

This was unhealthy. The strength of the lust he felt for this man

was all encompassing, making him forget all his responsibilities back
home. Nothing mattered about the here and now—about getting alone

Winona Wilder

in that dank hotel room to experience more carnal pleasures. “I
thought you had to ride soon?”

“I do. But you have to promise to be waiting for me when I’m

through. I just need eight seconds, and then I’m all yours.” For how
long? Another night? A week maybe? Then what—a long distant
relationship where Marcus drove himself nuts wondering what Tyler
was up to? No, it would never work.

“Fine. We’ll talk for a bit, and then I have to head out.” Would

eight seconds be enough for him to gain his composure? To say good-
bye to the man who took as well as gave him everything?

* * * *

Tyler excelled at his ride, wanting more than anything to make

Marcus proud. Knowing he watched him ride that wild stallion gave
him renewed strength and stamina to last past the bell. By the time
they walked up the main street to the hotel, the sun was sinking on the
horizon. The twilight hush and lack of tourists at this end of the street
created an intimate atmosphere. The gravel beneath his boots
crunched with each step.

“So, what do you do besides work for Cavendish?”
“Well, I hope to make partner soon, and then I’ll be set.”
Marcus was moving up in the world and had a bright future.

Tyler, with his lack of education, couldn’t help but think he’d drag the
other man down. His intelligence turned him on, but also scared him.
“I said besides work. What do you do for fun?”

He shrugged. “Go to the gym?”
“What about friends, family?”
“I suppose I’m too busy at work to socialize as much as I’d like.

My family can be overbearing, so I find myself trying to avoid them
more often than not.”

They reached the hotel, and Tyler unlocked the door. Just being

back inside the room they’d recently had sex in made his body heat

Loving Tyler

with need. But he wanted to do this right, to show Marcus that he
liked him for more than the usual one-nighter. He wasn’t so sure what
the fuck he wanted himself. Commitment freaked him out, but the
thought of losing Marcus made him even crazier.

“Family can be tricky. They know about you?”
“No,” he snapped without thought. “I could never tell them. If I

did, I’d be outcast. That’s just a fact.”

“They don’t sound much different than my own folks. Sometimes

you have to just do what’s best for you and cut the apron strings.”

Marcus sat at the small, round dinette table, and Tyler sat across

from him, holding out his hands. When Marcus placed his hands in
his, he squeezed tight, hoping to convey what was in his heart without
needing to speak. He was never good with words. In fact, he’d
avoided any emotional declarations for most of his life.

“What happened with your family?” The concern in Marcus’s

voice was heavy. The poor boy was worrying himself sick in hopes of
being accepted. Acceptance. It was one word that packed a punch
greater than most. The entire human condition seemed rooted to this
one word.

“Long story. All I can tell you is you’re better off relying on

yourself rather than hoping for validation that is unlikely to come.”
Tyler had never told anyone the story of his own family. It was one of
those dark, dirty things Tyler kept locked away in his brain until it
was difficult to recall. Tyler had large blocks of his youth stripped
from memory because of things he’d rather forget.

“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Being here when I needed you. Showing me another way.”

Marcus took a breath and exhaled slowly. “You don’t even know me,
but you’ve been a good friend.”

Tyler cringed. A good friend? He bit his lip and kept silent. He’d

grown good at masking his feelings over the years, to the point people

Winona Wilder

saw him as a man-whore, a drifter that had nothing in his head but sex
and a death wish. It was better that way.

“Before you go, I’d love to leave you with a little something to

remember me by.” He winked at the city boy, hoping to convey the
full extent of his intentions.

Marcus tilted his lips into a crooked half smile. “I think I owe you

from this morning.” He rose from his seat, stretching out to his full
height. Rather than walk to the bed, he bent down in front of Tyler,
bracing his weight on his knees.

He undid his belt. The whoosh of leather and clank of the buckle

were the only sounds in the small room. Tyler leaned back, getting
comfortable for what he knew was about to happen. His own dark-
haired angel was going to suck him.

“You ever done this before?”
“I told you you’re my first. That goes for everything. I just hope I

do this right for you.” He reached into his pants and freed his cock,
which slapped tight up against his stomach.

“You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes, darlin’. I just want to

feel your sweet lips on my dick.”

Marcus gave a tentative lick. “You taste good. Salty.” He should

shower after the hard ride, but couldn’t stop now.

“Then take more.” He closed his eyes as his lover closed his

mouth around his cockhead. The heat and pressure were nearly
enough to unravel him. When Marcus began to suck and pump the
base with his fist, he groaned and reached for the sides of his face. “I
bet you never came to Yorkville expecting to have a man’s dick in
your mouth.”

Marcus pulled off long enough to speak. “Don’t be nasty.”
“You love my nasty.” Tyler guided Marcus deeper, attempting to

teach him what he liked with gentle prodding and coaxing.

When Marcus became lost to the act, the sound of wet flesh

becoming louder and louder, Tyler reluctantly pulled back.

“Did I hurt you?”

Loving Tyler

“No, but you’re about to make me come in your mouth.” He

nodded to the bed. He’d been thinking about this moment ever since
he couldn’t find Marcus after his barrel race. For the first time in his
life, Tyler would make love to a man, show him his feelings through
sex because using words would be too much. Sex had always been a
tool for him. He used it to get what he wanted or when he needed to
be built up or brought down. Tonight he’d use it for what it was meant
to be.

He stripped off his clothes, eying the dark-eyed god on the bed in

front of him. “I love your body,” said Marcus. His eyes roamed over
his shoulders, chest, and down to his prominent erection. Tyler could
feel his stare brand into his flesh.

“Get your clothes off. All of them.” He stood at the end of the bed

watching Marcus slip out of his clothing while he slowly stroked his
cock. Soon he’d be in heaven, fucking Marcus’s tight ass.

Once fully naked, Tyler took his time with Marcus. He ran a

finger down the center of his chest, along the dark trail of hair leading
to his bobbing cock, swaying freely in the air, hard and ripe. He never
touched him where he needed him most. When he crawled over his
prone body, Marcus stopped him with a hand to the chest. “What
about the condom and lube?”

“Not yet. I want to enjoy you tonight.” He kissed his neck,

licking, sucking, tasting. Marcus closed his eyes, moaning soft,
sensual sounds that made Tyler hungrier than ever. He wanted to own
the city boy, keep him under his watch for the rest of his days.
Imagining some asshole taking advantage of him, taking what was
his, brought out his beast.

“Do I get to fuck you?”
“Maybe later. But not tonight.” Tyler ran his hand through

Marcus’s dark hair, studying the sharp, chiseled Mediterranean
features he adored. He hesitated at first, but knew he couldn’t hold
back this time. Tyler braced his weight on his forearms and kissed
Marcus on the lips. What started out as a light brush quickly morphed

Winona Wilder

into a desperate passion. Their tongues battled as they savored and
tasted each other. Tyler couldn’t get enough, needed so much more.
Their naked bodies pressed together, their dicks battling as he slightly
rose and lowered his frame.

“Open your legs,” said Tyler between kisses. He nudged his legs

open with his thigh and the other man was quick to wrap his legs
around his body. Marcus caressed his back, testing his muscles and
occasionally kneading his ass. Even without the sex, they were
making love. People said a lot could be deciphered from a man’s kiss.
The way Marcus kissed him back with such energy and desperation
was a sign he had to feel even a fraction of what Tyler felt for him.

He reached between them and squeezed Marcus’s cock until he

groaned against his mouth. “Do whatever you want to me. Just do it.”

“I plan to.” Tyler slid down his body, kissing the sweat-glistened

flesh as he passed. He used the flat of his tongue to lick Marcus from
root to tip, just the once, before slipping off the bed to retrieve his
supplies. There were so many kinky things he’d love to show his
lover, but tonight was for something deeper, something beyond just
physical satisfaction.

“I wanna fuck you, Tyler. Let me try.” Marcus sat up on his

elbows, his beautiful, dark cock erect and waiting.

“Not tonight. I have to have you. I’ll die if I don’t.” He lubed his

condom-covered dick and returned to the bed. “I won’t leave you
hanging, though, sweet thing.” Chest to chest, Marcus’s legs spread,
Tyler wedged his way into the tight rear opening. It took a few tries,
and once he breached his ass, Marcus cried out and pulled him closer.
Linked together, face-to-face, they kissed. The urgency had lessened
now that they were fucking in combination with the intimacy. Their
kisses were softer, gentler, and with each pause they looked each
other in the eyes, telling so many stories with just a look. Did he
believe at love at first sight? He’d never been a romantic, but he
supposed when two lonely souls found the right match, anything

Loving Tyler

could happen. They were yin and yang on so many fronts, but he’d
never wanted another man more.

Although Tyler had never believed in commitments, imagining

being with another man or life without Marcus burned a hole in his
chest. This was it, the one thing he’d avoided like the plague—love.

The next morning, before Marcus left for the city, Tyler watched

him dress in his designer suit. He filled out his clothes in wicked
ways. Tyler would certainly miss him when he left.

“So, you’re coming to see me in Port Kent next week?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Marcus straightened his tie in the mirror.
“Good. You’re my good luck charm, darlin’. I need you there

cheering me on.” He slipped off the bed, still naked, and wrapped his
arms around Marcus’s waist from behind.

The city boy was showered, his dark hair combed back, and he

smelled great. Tyler couldn’t believe his good fortune to snag such a
catch, but was it too good to be true? Would he return to his real life
and forget his night with the drifter?

New, uncomfortable insecurities battled within Tyler. He wanted

to keep Marcus under his wing, but the man had his own life back in
the city.

Marcus took a deep breath and turned around, perching himself on

the edge of the dresser. “Will you forget me once I’m gone?” An
underlying fear rang in his voice. “Out of sight, out of mind?”

“You’ll be all I think about. You just hurry up and get back to

me.” He supposed they each had their own insecurities since the
relationship was so new. But Tyler didn’t need more time to know
what he wanted. He only doubted that a worthwhile man like Marcus
could really love him.

Winona Wilder

Chapter Five

“He told you this?”
“Yes, sir. He made it very clear, and I was sure you wouldn’t want

him to represent Cavendish in light of the situation.” Marcus had been
back home for nearly a week, but this was the first time he’d dealt
with his boss about the Tyler James account. He’d hoped it would slip
away, forgotten, but that was just wishful thinking.

“Well, good call. You’re right, of course. We can’t have homos

representing us. Do you realize how many solid accounts we’d lose?
For three generations Cavendish has maintained a strong family
image. The rodeo side is great for boosting sales, but we have to find
the right candidates.”

His boss dismissed him, conversation over. As soon as Marcus

escaped the office, he sagged against the wall and took a deep breath.
Not only had he dreaded the exchange that could possibly affect his
career, but he couldn’t stand the thought of his boss looking down on
Tyler. He was such a fucking sellout. All he’d thought about since
coming home was Tyler. Tyler this, Tyler that, and of course one of
his coworkers was named Tyler, so the name haunted him everywhere
he went.

Even though he’d left that night of lovemaking, he knew

something monumental had occurred during that time. Marcus felt as
if a rift had opened in Tyler. He saw more than the cowboy had
offered initially, but he still wasn’t foolish enough to believe a man
could change in less than twenty-four hours.

Marcus shut down his computer and tidied his desk for the day. It

was Friday night, so he’d hit the gym on his way home from work.

Loving Tyler

Tyler would probably be on the road now, traveling to Port Kent for
his next gig. He’d promised to stop by and watch him since it was
closer to the city than Yorkville, but in his heart he knew he wouldn’t
show up. He couldn’t keep showing up in Tyler’s life at different
events for a quick encounter. The constant good-byes would destroy
him.

He parked his sedan on the side of the road, grabbed his gym bag,

and locked up. It took all his energy to bring himself into the gym for
his regular workout session. It would be so easy to just go home and
feel sorry for himself, but he knew that self-destructive cycle
wouldn’t do him any good. Life had to go on.

As he wiped down the weight bench, he glanced around the gym.

It was the usual crowd, but he saw everything from new eyes. As if
he’d earned some supernatural power, he could practically pick out
the gay men. Had Lenard always looked at him like that? It didn’t
excite him, only made him turn in on himself. The only man he
wanted looking at him with lust and desire was the cowboy who took
his manhood.

Even the fittest men that had caught his eye in the past, making

him question his sexuality, couldn’t compare with the hard, golden-
muscled hunk with the fuck-me, green eyes.

By the time he returned to his sterile, modern condo, he wanted to

crash from physical and mental exhaustion. He may have complained
about Tyler’s habits, the way he lived, or his cleanliness, but he
realized now how trivial such things were. The room around him was
neat as a pin, as he’d always kept his condo. Everything clean, in its
assigned place, and sometimes coded by color or size. He really
needed to get a life. Right now he’d trade the counterfeit perfection
for the real, no illusions country lifestyle Tyler briefly exposed him
to. Most of the people at the Yorkville rodeo knew Tyler was gay and
accepted him, loved him even. He was a star and made no excuses for
who he was or what he did with his life. What he ever wanted with a
straitlaced suit, he’d never know.

Winona Wilder

As he studied the stucco on the ceiling, wondering what step he

should take next to give his life more meaning, more substance, his
buzzer went off. He cursed and trudged to the door, not in the mood
to see anyone. “Who is it?” he asked after holding down the intercom
button.

“Franco. Let me in.”
His favorite cousin. Would he even want to know Marcus if he

knew the truth? Nothing seemed to carry the same urgency, not when
his heart was aching, not when he could still feel Tyler’s kiss on his
lips. He hadn’t even called his family at home to let his parents know
he was back from Yorkville. He just didn’t have the energy to face
anyone just yet.

“Where’ve you been? Dropped off the map?” Franco burst in,

carrying a twelve case of Budweiser. He dropped the box on the
counter and threw himself over Marcus’s custom leather sofa.

“I’ve been working.” He pushed his cousin’s feet off the couch

cushions. “You can call, you know.”

“I did.”
He sat on the matching chair across from the sofa. Marcus

supposed the visit would be good to get his mind off things. “I just got
home for the gym. How’re mom and dad?”

“I saw them the other day. They invited us over for dinner.

Everything was good.”

“They say anything about me?”
Franco laughed. “What do you think? The usual ‘When’s Marcus

gonna get himself married and have children’ deal. I just go for the
food. Personally, I could care less what you do with your life, cuz.”
Franco rolled off the sofa and began to rummage through his
cupboards and refrigerator behind the counter of his kitchenette.

“I think they’re going to be sorely disappointed. I have no plans

for a wife or children.”

Loving Tyler

“Why would you? You have the perfect setup here. Great job,

amazing place, you come and go as you please. I’d give anything to
trade shoes with you.”

Marcus may see his family as a thorn in his side half the time, but

he cared about them. His cousin had so much potential, but seemed to
be a write-off half the time, not focused enough in anything he did.
“What about that girl up in Brantsworth? I thought things were
heating up?”

“No. Too far.” He shrugged, popping some of the washed grapes

Marcus kept in the fridge into his mouth. “Didn’t really like her
anyway.”

“Look, I’d really like to hang out, but I’m in a devil of a mood. I

had a miserable day at work, and I just need to unwind.”

“I’m just here to watch the game on your big screen. It’s no big

deal, just Tony and Mike are coming by. Don’t worry, they’re
bringing pizza. We’ll be quiet as mice.”

“Sure.” Marcus growled in irritation. His family did the same

thing to him nearly every week, and he usually took it. If he was more
of a man like Tyler, he’d tell his relatives to take a flying leap and
give him some breathing room.

He grabbed his wallet off the counter and pocketed his car keys.

“Look, just don’t make a mess. I have a few things to do, but I’ll be
back later.”

“Thanks, cuz.” Franco was already back on the sofa, focused on

the television, box of crackers in hand. Marco hated crumbs between
his seat cushions. He shook his head, imagining that Tyler would do
the very same thing.

After the elevator ride downstairs, he hit the street. He just wanted

to clear his head, get some fresh air, and not have to deal with a condo
full of rowdy family members he hadn’t even invited over. Some days
he felt if he disappeared nobody would notice. They’d only miss his
reflection, the one that had a big screen, cool condo, and money to
borrow. He only made it a few blocks when he halted to a dead stop.

Winona Wilder

What the fuck was he doing? Running from what he wanted most?
Tyler may not be able to change his wild ways, but Marcus had to at
least try. The thought of settling down with anyone besides the rugged
cowboy was indigestible. If anything, he needed closure. He’d left in
a hurry, with emotions strong and unresolved. If Tyler told him their
relationship was no more than a quick hoorah, he’d pick up the pieces
and be able to move on.

* * * *

Why hadn’t he shown up? Tyler had given himself to Marcus,

body and soul. The city boy had no idea just how difficult it was for
him to make love to a man, to lower his guards, to care. But he did all
for one man. When he’d left, he took a piece of Tyler’s heart, and the
only hope he had was that Marcus would show up at Port Kent—
which he didn’t. Was that the end of it?

“James! You’re up!” His head was not focused on the

competition. He climbed over the stall to the waiting horse, which
was more agitated than the devil. The crowd roared, a constant drone
in his head. He carefully wound the leather strapping around his right
hand in preparation, taking deep breaths to try and concentrate.

The gate burst open and bells sounded, and he was off. He kept

his hand up, maintaining his balance on the notorious stallion. His
peripheral vision continually played tricks on him, making him
believe Marcus watched, but when he looked it was just another
spectator. As soon as the bell sounded, he released and dropped, most
of his weight landing on his side and shoulder. He knew what he had
to do. He had to get to the nearest bar, and fast. Alcohol had been a
friend for many years, but more recently he’d chosen to use sex as an
escape. He couldn’t even think of another man now, so the bottle was
his destination.

He held his side as he walked, his ribs bruised and swollen. At

least he’d made a good time in the ring. That was all that mattered, all

Loving Tyler

he was good for. He imagined Marcus was back in his fancy condo
with his educated, clean-cut friends. They probably had a good laugh
or two remembering the washed-out cowboy with no residence but
shithole motels.

Tyler stumbled to the bar. “Set me up with three shots.” He

nodded to the bottle of whiskey on the ledge behind the bartender.

“You okay? You look hurt.”
“Nothing time won’t heal. Too bad my heart ain’t as lucky.”
Lucky placed the three shot glasses in a row and filled them up.

He had a knowing smile on his face. “Love troubles, my friend?”

“You have no idea.”
“Didn’t you just have a spat with Jet Cartwright?” He cleaned his

hands on his apron before cracking the top off a Bud for the guy down
the bar.

“That was nothin’. This is everything.” It was true. There had

been no emotional connection between him and Jet. It was just
fucking, and they both knew it. Marcus was so much more. He’d
taken the man’s virginity, showed him things he never experienced,
and opened himself up to new possibilities.

Tyler was known as the joker, the playboy, the cowboy with death

written on his forehead. But he wasn’t an empty shell. He just had a
harder outer layer than most. A survival mechanism he learned to
perfect over the years—until Marcus came along.

“I don’t need to tell you there’re more fish in the sea, do I? You’re

Tayler James. I know for a fact you’ll never have to worry about
keeping your bed warm. You attract men and women like flies to
shit.”

“Thanks. But this time I’m not worried about keeping my bed

warm.” He downed two of the shots then took a breath. “I thought this
time might be something real. You know?”

“You? Settling down? No, I could never see it. Some men are

meant for the whole white picket fence, while others are meant to

Winona Wilder

make married men jealous because they have it all—money, freedom,
sex, popularity. That’s you, Tyler. Enjoy it while you’re young.”

He choked back the last shot, not willing to hear anything else.

The stereotype he’d developed for himself over the years wouldn’t let
go without a fight. Nobody would be able to understand how, in the
span of an eye blink, he’d trade his fast life for the simplicity of
loving one soft-skinned city boy.

“Do me a favor and pass me a bottle.”
“You know I can’t do that.” The look of concern on Lucky’s face

pissed him off. He didn’t want pity. He wanted everything to go back
to the way it was when he didn’t give a shit.

“Just give me the damn bottle. Remember? I’m Tyler-fucking-

James, so don’t question me.” He took the bottle handed to him.
Lucky looked conflicted, but he didn’t care. He needed to lose
himself, even if just for one night.

Tyler occupied his small table in the dark corner of the bar, his

Stetson tilted to hide his eyes, for hours. Then the relative hush
shifted to chaos as the rodeo workers got off for the evening, rushing
into the bar, hooting and hollering. Tyler’s mood was black, and he
didn’t want company. With his bottle three quarters empty, he dared
anyone to piss him off. Maybe a good fight would do him a world of
good. The pain could take his focus off his aching heart.

Two old friends pulled up chairs after getting their drinks.

Another stood near his chair, leaning against the wall. “You killed it
out there today. Can’t wait to see you on the bulls tomorrow.” Keep it
together, Tyler. They’re just being friendly. The problem was, he
knew at least one of the men had his eye on him for the last three
days. The old Tyler would have already tapped that. He was cute, a
boy-next-door type he wouldn’t say “no” to. But the new Tyler
couldn’t stand the thought of anyone that wasn’t one-hundred percent
identical to Marcus.

Loving Tyler

Just thinking about him made him drift, a soft smile on his lips as

the alcohol did its job, pulling him into impossible fantasies. He’d get
drunk every night if Marcus starred in his dreams as a result.

He hadn’t even felt the numerous hands on his body or voices in

his ear when the distant words of an angel broke through his drunken
stupor. “I should have known not to come back here!”

Winona Wilder

Chapter Six

Marcus had driven all night long to get to Port Kent before the

rodeo closed up the next day. He prayed Tyler hadn’t already moved
on because he had to see him. Good or bad, he needed closure.

He parked his car close to the heart of the attraction, already

noting the crowds were thin and many cowboys were packing up their
trailers. Marcus locked his vehicle and asked everyone he met as he
walked along the road if they’d seen Tyler James. After half a dozen
requests, he finally got some useful information.

“Check the town bar. That’s where you’ll find Tyler.” The older

man said it so matter-of-factly, as if Tyler lived in a bar. His cowboy
was better than that, or should be.

Marcus adjusted his collar. He chose to wear a nice pair of pressed

slacks and black polo shirt in exchange for his usual suit and tie. Tyler
would appreciate the change, at least he hoped. He wasn’t at his best
due to lack of sleep, and he hadn’t gotten his usual haircut.

When he entered the bar in question, it was packed, and he had to

shuffle his way to the back bar. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing for me, thanks. I’m looking for a man.”
“There’re plenty here.”
“No, one particular cowboy. His name is Tyler James, shaggy

brown hair, green eyes—” Before he could finish, the bartender
pointed to the shadowed corner of the room behind him.

There were several men around a small table. Was that Tyler? It

looked like a fucking orgy. As he proceeded closer, he noticed they
were touching. Strange men had their hands on Tyler, even attempting

Loving Tyler

to unbutton his flannel shirt. He’d only been gone a week, and Tyler
was already back to his playboy self, Marcus fully forgotten.

Anger welled up inside him. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, as

well as heartache, betrayal, and insecurity. He was an emotional
basket case.

After calling out his misgivings to Tyler, ready to make haste and

get back home where he belonged, the cowboy made eye contact. His
eyes were red-rimmed, and he stumbled, fell, and stumbled again as
he tried to get closer to Marcus. The chair he’d been sitting on
crashed to the floor, and he pushed the other roughnecks out of his
way. “Wait. It’s not what you think…”

Marcus wanted to tell Tyler he looked pathetic, had degraded

himself once again when he was perfectly ready to love him for the
rest of his life, but he kept silent and left.

He was exhausted from the long drive and no sleep. The early

morning sun burned his eyes as he walked away from the bar, eager to
put distance between him and Tyler and whoever the fuck he was
associating with. Marcus felt small and cheap and wanted to escape.
To where he didn’t know because even home wasn’t home.

“Wait!” Tyler stumbled after him, his boots shuffling along the

gravel.

“Stay away from me. Go back to your friends.” He kept walking,

not turning back.

“Marcus…Stop! Listen to me for a minute, goddammit!”
This time he stopped, internally cringing thanks to his Catholic

upbringing. He didn’t turn to face him, just stood to listen. “What?”

“I’m a bit drunk. I was passing out. Alone. I have no clue where

those guys came from, but they’re not with me.”

Marcus whirled on him, his temperature through the roof. He’d

traveled all the way out here—for what? To feel worse than he had
pining for something that wasn’t even real? “First of all, you’re not a
bit drunk. You’re literally fall-down drunk, and it’s disgusting.

Winona Wilder

Second of all, your personal life isn’t really my business, is it? I’m
just some lame-ass city boy who gave you a few hours of sex.”

Tyler barreled forward, pinning his arms to his sides as he backed

him up against a wooden lean-to. His strength, even when piss drunk,
astounded Marcus. It also brought his strong attraction for the cowboy
to the surface, despite his irritation. “Darlin’, don’t test me. I’ve been
out of my mind crazy wondering why you never showed up as
promised.”

“I’m here.”
“You said you were coming three days ago. I’ve been walking

around like a zombie.” He loosened his grip on his biceps. “Today
was the first day I turned to the bottle. How much heartache did you
expect me to take? I’m only a man.”

“Do you expect me to believe you weren’t fucking around in

there? I’m not so naïve, Tyler. I know who you are.”

“If you know who I am, why’d you come back at all?” He

dropped his arms and stepped back, holding his gaze. Marcus wanted
his hands back on him, even if it hurt. The sudden distance felt like an
ocean between them when he was so emotionally fragile.

“Because!” What should he say? The absurd truth that he actually

thought he was in love? He drove straight through the night just to see
him again? But love shouldn’t be one-sided, unconditional or
irrevocable. Tyler couldn’t lie his way out of this one. Marcus had
been out of sight, out of mind.

“Because what?”
He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of laughing him out of

town. Marcus already looked like a fool, and he was an outsider on
Tyler’s turf, a prude in a polo shirt. There was a gaggle of real men in
the bar—strong, rough, dominant, and muscled to the teeth. Tyler
belonged with one of them, and no doubt preferred them to Marcus. “I
only came to give you another offer from Cavendish. It wasn’t my
idea.”

Loving Tyler

“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head in

suspicion. “Okay. What’s the offer, sweetheart? I’m dying to hear it.”

“It’s–It’s another sponsorship.”
Tyler nodded and his narrowed eyes told Marcus he didn’t believe

a word. “Another sponsorship?”

“You know, you’re pretty coherent for a drunk guy.”
He inched closer. “Cowboys can hold their liquor. I’m sure a cute

thing like you is pure as snow, aren’t you? You’d get drunk from a
thimbleful.”

“Are you mocking me? Because I was a virgin?”
“Whoa there.” Tyler caged him against the wooden plank wall, his

large body leaning towards him. He smelled slightly of alcohol and
burning wood—a comforting, rustic combination. “That’s just one of
the things I love about you, darlin’. You’re mine. All mine.”

“And who do you belong to, Tyler James? Any man who makes a

half-assed offer? Or does he just have to have a big dick?”

The cowboy laughed, a low rumbling sound that brought out his

hackles.

“That’s what led me to you, no?” Tyler reached low and cupped

Marcus’s balls and cock, giving a slight squeeze. He couldn’t stop the
drawn-out moan that escaped his lips.

“Don’t…” He wanted to tell him never to stop, to strip him, fuck

him, love him. But he had his pride and had to be cautious. All he
really knew about Tyler were rumors, all of them bad.

“Are you gonna tell me no, Marcus? I have a nice, clean room in

this town. Got it with you in mind.” He wrapped his free hand around
his waist, tugging him closer, his other hand still on his crotch. The
sound of his voice made him harder than the wood he leaned against.

He couldn’t say no, even if it tore him apart to lose him a second

time. “I’ll come on one condition.”

“Name it.”
“It’s my turn to fuck you.”

Winona Wilder

* * * *

Tyler went weak in the knees when his little angel demanded the

chance to fuck him. He wouldn’t deny him, not today. Marcus was
well endowed, and he could imagine how snugly he’d fill his ass,
igniting all his dormant nerves, lighting his body on fire with desire.

“That’s a boy.” He leaned in close, whispering against the shell of

his ear. “I’ll suck your dick first, until you beg me to stop. Then
you’re gonna get double-fucked. I’ll lube up a nice fat dildo and fuck
you with it. When you’re good and ripe, I’ll bend over and you can
ram your beautiful cock into my ass.”

“Holy shit.”
Tyler laughed again, barely able to move without causing

discomfort to himself. Not only were his ribs bruised, but his dick was
painfully engorged.

They didn’t waste time in moving to their new location in the

motel down the street. It wasn’t a long walk, but still felt like miles
when they were both desperate to be alone. But as soon as they
entered the door, they didn’t crash onto the bed as he’d anticipated.
There was an awkward divide between them, so many unspoken
confessions and concerns. The silence had a life of its own.

Tyler bent down to pick up the keys he’d dropped and winced

when he stood up.

“What’s the matter?” Marcus was next to him in a flash,

smoothing his hands down his shoulders.

“The bull had his way with me this morning.” He chuckled, but

even the slight jostling made his ribs ache.

“I really wish you wouldn’t ride the bulls. I don’t like any of this.

It’s dangerous.”

“If I had you to take care of me, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

The awkward tension shifted to an erotic longing. They looked each
other in the eyes, not speaking, just wanting.

Loving Tyler

When Tyler had casually dated Jet, he’d been the more submissive

of the men since Jet Cartwright was such a dominant cowboy as well
as being older and more experienced. Marcus made Tyler feel like all
male, strong, and virile. The city boy was inexperienced, loving, and
almost dainty in some of his ways including his insistent need for
cleanliness. It was all endearing to Tyler. He wanted to claim the
Italian for himself, to never allow another man to share what he
discovered.

“Let me look at your side. You’re hurt.” Marcus undressed him,

carefully pulling his shirt up over his head and laying in on the
dresser. He ran his hands along the greenish-brown bruising over his
ribs, making clucking noises of disapproval. “You could have killed
yourself.” Marcus bent over and kissed the wounds, softly, tenderly.
Tyler couldn’t help but run his hand through his shiny, black hair,
savoring the feel of his lips on his sensitive skin. It was surreal having
Marcus back after thinking he’d lost him. Being cared for, rather than
a just a familiar face, was something he wasn’t used to. He was
addicted. After one loving kiss he was hooked.

“Cowboys don’t feel pain,” he lied, not wanting to appear weak in

his lover’s eyes.

“Sure.” Marcus poked him as he stood, making him grimace.

“And city boys aren’t so gullible.”

Marcus stood tall, shaking his head like a distraught mother.

“What am I going to do with you, Tyler James?”

“Wanna play doctor? You can make me all better.”
Pain or no pain, his cock was still rearing to go. Just looking at the

other man’s handsome face was enough to firm him up. He had a
five-o’clock shadow, and considering the time of morning, he mustn’t
have shaved the day before. Marcus wasn’t the type of man to let his
hygiene slip. The mere idea that he may have been even a fraction as
lost as Tyler was comforting, heart-warming.

“What you need is rest. It’ll do your body good, and you’ll sleep

off the alcohol.”

Loving Tyler

Chapter Seven

Tyler slept like a baby clear through the day and night. Marcus

spent countless hours just watching the calm rise and fall off his chest,
the tranquil lines of his face, and dreaming of the possibilities. In the
early hours of the morning, he slipped out of the hotel room with
Tyler’s truck keys. Before he’d passed out, Tyler mentioned his
clothes and toiletries were in a duffel bag in the cab. The town looked
like a circus deconstructing to move on to the next stop. Cowboys
loaded up their horses into trailers, tents were being tucked away into
truck beds, and the wild children had been rounded up. The masses of
spectators and riders had already left or would be on the road within
the hour by the looks of it.

He had to hike up a low hill to find the truck. It was a peaceful

walk, and Marcus had never been to Port Kent before. The town had
an old-school charm. Overflowing flower baskets hanging on street
lights resembled antique lanterns. He wondered what it would be like
to settle down in this little piece of paradise with the man he was
beginning to believe he loved. Would he miss his city life? Would he
be able to find a job in managing or marketing in such a small
community? He didn’t want to feel useless, become bored, or regret
choosing Tyler.

“This your truck?” A gruff male voice came from behind him as

he unlocked the driver’s side.

He turned around. The man wore jean overalls, and he was

slightly overweight. There was a negative air to him that brought out
Marcus’s hackles. “Who’s asking?”

“Looks like your tires were slashed.”

Winona Wilder

He stepped back, forgetting the man, only concerned to see the

tires for himself. At least one was indeed flat. Marcus whirled around.
“You see who did this?”

The stranger was already walking away, not bothering to turn or

answer. Marcus stood in place for a minute, and then he decided to
grab the duffel bag and get back to the room before Tyler woke up.
He wondered if there was even a place in town where they could get
new tires for the truck on short notice. Who would do such a thing?
Everyone seemed to love Tyler everywhere he went. Marcus would
expect something like this back in the city where senseless crime ran
rampant, not in this quaint little town.

He crept back in the room. The interior was dim with the heavy

drapes pulled shut. Tyler shifted on the bed as Marcus clicked the
lock into place and dropped the duffel bag on the ground with a
thump. “Where’d you go, darlin’?”

“Just got your bag. How you feeling?”
“Hard. For you.” He patted the side of the bed. “I’ve rested as you

demanded, sweet thing. You’re not going to prolong my punishment
now, are you?”

He joined Tyler near the bed, the world forgotten as he gazed into

those luscious green eyes. “I wasn’t punishing you. I was looking out
for you.” Marcus sat on the mattress and ran his hands over Tyler’s
muscled sides. The bruises remained, but he didn’t flinch as much as
he did yesterday.

“I love the way you touch me,” the cowboy whispered. He tucked

his arms behind his head and took a cleansing breath. “I’m sorry
about yesterday.” His brown hair was tousled from sleep, his thick-
lashed eyes heavy.

All he’d thought about the past week were his feelings for Tyler

and the erotic peak the other man so easily brought him to. He pulled
back the blankets slightly, exposing Tyler’s ripped abs and the thin
trail of hair leading to the tent in the light covering.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

Loving Tyler

He ran his fingers lightly up and down his torso until Tyler

surprised him by grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. “No more teasing.
Touch me. Really touch me.”

Marcus was just as hard as Tyler. The promise from last night

kept echoing in his head—he’d get his chance to fuck another man for
the first time. He slipped the blanket off the hidden erection. Tyler
groaned, returning his arm back under his head, his eyes drifting shut.
He stroked the cowboy, savoring the silky skin as he pumped up and
down, memorizing every vein and curve of Tyler’s cockhead.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week. I wanted to come,

but I was scared. Scared you’d reject me.”

“Never that.” Tyler sat up and pulled Marcus down against his

chest. He was so strong, so alive. When his lips met his own it healed
all the lonely hours of longing. Nothing mattered except the here and
now. Tyler’s lips were thick and he kissed with enough skill to take
his breath away.

“Remember what you told me? Were you just playing…about the

sex stuff?”

Tyler smirked. “About getting double fucked? A dildo in your ass

as you fuck me?”

He knew his cheeks were turning red. Tyler’s unabashed way of

speaking was so different from his politically correct coworkers or
religious relatives, and it turned him on more than anything. “Yeah.
That.”

Marcus sat up and ripped his polo shirt from his body. “That’s my

boy. You’re gorgeous.” Tyler reached for his shoulders, pulling
himself up to a sit. The cowboy leaned down and sucked his nipples,
making them pebble, and delicious heat radiated all the way down to
his balls.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather have one of them cowboys from

yesterday?”

Winona Wilder

“Darlin’, I already told you nothing happened.” He cupped

Marcus’s face. “From that first day, I knew you were the one man
who could make me change my wild ways.”

God, Marcus didn’t realize how much he needed to be accepted,

desired, wanted by another human being—unconditionally,
irrevocably. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but he wouldn’t
cry in front of the other man. Tyler was a hardcore cowboy and
probably wouldn’t appreciate such an open display of emotion.

He got a reprieve as Tyler reached the night table drawer, pulling

out a small black velvet bag. “Open it.”

Marcus pulled the drawstring open and peered inside. “You’re

going to ruin me, Tyler James.” He shook the bag upside down on the
mattress between them. A tube of lubricant and a thick silicone dildo
toppled out.

“We’re just getting started. Now lose the pants so we can have

some real fun.”

* * * *

Tyler woke up in a panic. Just as he had nearly every morning

since Marcus left the last town, but this time was much worse. The
dream had been more real this time, making his heart ache for the
other man. As he bolted up in bed, sweat-glistened, heart beating
strong, he began to piece together the night before. Although well
rested, the lingering, dull headache from too much alcohol clung to
him. He remembered coming back to the room with Marcus, but
maybe it was just a fantasy caused by his overindulgence.

He dropped back on the bed, focusing on the narrow slits of light

along the ceiling from the gaps in the heavy curtains. When the door
began to open he immediately tensed, ready to reach under the bed for
his Colt. But the silhouette was comfortingly familiar. It hadn’t been a
dream. Marcus had come back.

Loving Tyler

After their loving confessions, his little city boy followed his

orders to lose his clothes. He was in for a surprise. Tyler had past
experiences with some of the kinkiest men alive, including Jet
Cartwright himself, and he’d learned a thing or two in the bedroom.
Now he couldn’t even fathom a new conquest. All that mattered was
teaching Marcus, loving him and giving him his all.

“Do you remember how it felt when I took your virginity?” He

brushed Marcus’s hair back—silky, black, and shiny.

“It hurt, and then it felt like heaven.”
“This’ll be much the same. Even if it feels weird, don’t tense up.

I’ll ease it in, nice and slow, okay?”

Marcus nodded, and Tyler guided him down to his side. His back

was toned to perfection, a beautiful golden hue like the rest of his
body. He lubed up the silicone phallus and spread the man’s ass
cheeks apart to reveal the tight, puckered hole. So tight. He’d love the
chance to fuck him today, but he’d promised his lover a chance at this
new experience. Besides, Tyler knew in his heart that this act would
solidify their relationship, make him Marcus’s as much as the other
man was his.

It was difficult breaching the tight anal ring. As much as he didn’t

want to hurt Marcus, he knew from experience the pain would be
brief. In time, he’d learn to love that initial stab of pain, the promise
of pleasure to come. He let the fake cock dangle, just an inch inserted,
until Marcus adjusted. While he waiting he showered his back with
kisses, nipping his shoulder blades, his ear lobes, and stubbled
jawline.

Once Marcus began to moan, wiggling against the toy, Tyler

continued to feed the cock into his ass. It glided in smoothly thanks to
the lube and the man’s willingness to accept the length. “How does it
feel, baby? Do you like your ass filled up?”

“I prefer your cock, your heat.”

Winona Wilder

“Later. You get something even better tonight. You’ve only lost

half your virginity. Today will make things official.” Tyler rolled to
his side. “Come on, let me feel you inside me.”

The bed shifted as Marcus turned. He heard the spurt of lube as he

prepared himself. Then his hand was over his hip as he positioned
himself

against Tyler’s ass. He felt the cool shock of the lubrication as

he nudged his opening. It had been a long time since he had a man,
but this would be like any other because, for the first time, real
feelings were involved. “I might hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’. This ain’t my first rodeo. I won’t

complain if you ram me hard.” He meant it. Tyler found a perverse
pleasure in the pain of hard sex and erotic punishment. Nothing he
planned to subject his sweet boy to, but he was game.

Marcus pushed himself into Tyler, entering him in a firm,

consistent thrust. The city boy groaned and shuddered as he filled his
ass. “Oh, God.”

“Show me what you’re made of.” Tyler grabbed the headboard

with one hand, bracing himself for a workout. Marcus didn’t fail him.
The other man must have been as pent-up as him, thrusting and
pistoning in and out of his ass like a machine.

His body was lit up with sensation, his ass spasming, his cock

thickening. Reality spiraled out of focus as his orgasm loomed just
beneath the surface. He began to pump his cock to match the rhythm
of Marcus’s big dick fucking him. The dual stimulation was too
much. He wouldn’t last long.

“Come on, sweetheart. Fill me up! I wanna feel your hot seed

inside me.” As if following his command, Marcus gasped, his hand
digging into his hip as he pumped this release into Tyler. His own
cum sprayed the coverlet as he reached his peak, the sticky mess
coating his knuckles.

Marcus kissed his moist neck, not pulling out of him, just lying

close without moving. “How’d I do for my first time?”

Loving Tyler

“You’re a natural. But I hope we’ll have lots and lots of practice.”

Tyler clenched around Marcus’s semi-flaccid cock, making him groan
against his neck.

They rolled apart, only to snuggle closer, face-to-face. He could

never tire of looking into the Italian’s dark, exotic features. The man
belonged on a magazine cover, and here he was, all his.

“Where will you go from here?” asked Marcus.
“Paying events are in Essa now. Drifters follow the money, so I

guess that’s where I’m heading.”

“What about me?” He could hear the caution and vulnerability in

Marcus’s voice, and it made him want to hold onto the man and never
let go.

He kissed him on the lips, once, twice. “You go where I go.”
Marcus sat up, breaking their intimate bubble. “Is it really that

simple in your head? I just throw away my whole life and travel the
rodeo circuit with you?”

“I thought that’s what you had in mind when you came out here

looking for me.”

“I needed to see you, to get some closure. Tyler, I have a condo, a

job, and family back in the city. I can’t just not go back—that’s not
how real life works.”

He hopped off the bed and tugged on his boxer briefs. “So what

was I? A fantasy? A good, part-time fuck?”

“No! You’re putting words in my mouth.” Marcus slipped the

remainder of the dildo out of his ass and tossed it on the bed beside
him.

“Am I? You’re not coming with me, so I guess that means you’re

heading home to your real life.”

“What do you expect? I’ve known you a week. Am I supposed to

throw away my whole life and take a risk on you?”

Tyler cringed on the inside, but didn’t let it show. What else did

he expect? Every man he’d shared a bed with only saw him as a
bedmate, a man-whore with nothing of value besides a good romp in

Winona Wilder

the hay. It never bothered him until now. Now it fucking hurt. He
wanted to get down on one knee and beg Marcus to stay, to love him,
but he wouldn’t.

“Maybe I should just hop in my truck and hit the highway.” He

pulled on his Wranglers.

“I forgot to tell you. Your truck has at least one flat.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I went to get your bag, there was this guy lurking around.

He pointed out the flats.”

Tyler’s heart clenched and throat tightened. “What did he look

like?”

“I don’t know. Big homely guy with overalls.”
Tyler was scared to know the answer, but he had to ask. “Did he

have a lazy eye?”

“How’d you know?”
Fuck! They’d found him again. It had been two years with no

sign, but now they’d found him. They always found him.

Loving Tyler

Chapter Eight

There was an uncomfortable silence during breakfast at the diner.

He was sure Tyler had been happy to see him, but maybe it was only
the buzz from the alcohol. Ever since they had sex, his mood seemed
to shift. Was it all about sex? Had he gotten his fill for the week?

“I have to head back to the city to get things settled. But if you’re

serious about starting something long-term, I’ll come back up and we
can talk more seriously about it.”

“No. You’re right, I barely know you. We should head our

separate ways.”

Marcus froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Permanently?”

Surely Tyler hadn’t done a three-sixty in only an hour. He seemed
genuinely interested in maintaining their relationship this morning,
even getting hostile when Marcus suggested not following him to the
next town. Maybe he’d hurt him. Maybe Tyler was putting up guards
to keep from getting hurt. Marcus felt like an asshole. All he wanted
was Tyler. He was just too damn scared to give up everything only to
find out Tyler tired of him after a month together. He wanted to be
sure their relationship was for real before committing himself body
and soul.

“We had good times, but it’d never work. City boy, country

bumpkin. Personally, I think you could do much better than me.”
Tyler never looked him in the eye, only making patterns in the eggs
he’d barely touched.

“Are you kidding me? I drove all the way down here because I

thought we had something special. Was I wrong?” The foundation of
his whole world was crumbling. His mind processed the past, present,

Winona Wilder

and future at an alarming rate. If he returned home knowing Tyler
only thought of him as another number, he’d be crushed. He’d have
no hope, nothing to look forward to but his unfulfilling life. Was he
too uptight? Not uninhibited enough for the more experienced
cowboy?

“I’m a drifter, Marcus. Certain people aren’t meant to change.”
He stood up, his chair scraping along the tiles. “Bullshit!” It was

so unlike him to make a scene, to raise his voice, to tread off the
beaten path. Now all he could think about was the betrayal
threatening to undo him.

“Cavendish Tack and Saddles are probably wondering where their

best recruiter is. Can’t say I was disappointed with the fringe benefits,
but like I said, I’m not interested in a sponsorship.” Tyler took a drink
of his Coke, effectively ignoring him.

“You’re a bastard!” He tossed his napkin and stormed out of the

diner. Tyler didn’t try to stop him, and he didn’t expect as much.

He speed-walked up the side of the road towards his car, undiluted

anger making the world blur out of focus. Marcus replayed all his
times with Tyler over and over in his head—the kisses, the
lovemaking, the endearing confessions. How could he be such a poor
judge of character? The more distance he put between him and the
diner, the more he felt the anger diminish and the despair and hurt
take over. He felt small, cheap, and stupid, completely deceived by a
cowboy and a world he barely knew.

Marcus wasn’t Tyler’s anything, just another fuck for the record

book. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture from
his eyes and hit the gas, eager to put the miles between him and Tyler.

* * * *

Essa looked like every other town he’d passed through over his

countless years on the circuit. It was the same meaningless sequence
of events—new town, cheap motel, glory in the ring, meaningless sex.

Loving Tyler

The routine was getting old. Ever since he’d found Marcus, he saw a
new world of possibility. Life didn’t have to be black and white, but
could be lived in full color. The Italian had brought out the best in
Tyler, given him the precious gift of his body, and showed him a new
reality.

Breaking the other man’s heart, practically hearing it crack down

the middle, had been the hardest thing Tyler ever had to do. As soon
as Marcus told him about the lazy-eyed bastard that had slashed his
tires, he knew it was one of his old foster brothers. It had been years
since they’d bothered him, found him. Living in the foster home as a
teen had been a sadistic entrapment that he’d only been able to escape
when he’d turned legal age. It seemed most country folk back then
only took kids in for the money, not for their love of children. His
foster home hadn’t nurtured his differences, his unique sexuality, but
tried to beat it out of him. When that didn’t work, they just beat him.
Since his escape, he’d traveled the circuit on his own, making a name
for himself.

When news hit his abusers of his success, jealousy and hatred

made the blood brothers blind with the need for retaliation. For what,
he didn’t know. But he never could understand the mind of a bigot.

He knew it would never end, the vicious attempts to ruin him.

They focused their meaningless lives on making Tyler’s miserable.
Like they’d said in the past, a faggot doesn’t deserve glory in the ring,
and he was ruining the respectable tradition of the rodeo.

There was no way he’d subject his sweet Marcus to their hatred. If

they knew he loved the city boy, they’d no doubt focus their attention
on him in hopes of hurting Tyler. He wouldn’t have it. It was better
for him to lose Marcus, rather than risk getting him hurt. There was
nowhere for him to escape, not with his fame on the circuit. It would
be as easy as checking the public event list to know where he’d be
next. He was good at keeping invisible, hiding in off-the-radar motels,
and moving on as soon as he finished his last event.

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Marcus was innocent, tender. He’d never be able to deal with the

kind of hatred his foster brothers were capable of dishing out. Tyler
couldn’t watch over him every minute, and every minute away from
him, he’d worry. And it wasn’t just the two brothers out for blood.
They’d managed to recruit a group of extremists determined to keep
gays out of the ring. If only they knew how many there really were,
they’d give up their twisted crusade.

“Tyler!” One of his ring buddies greeted him near the registration

desk. It took a Herculean effort just to offer a barely there smile.

“Braden. How’s the family?”
“Just setting up tent for the night. You’re welcome to join us for

dinner. We caught a good-sized deer just outside of town. It’ll be
enough to feed an army.” His friend laughed and clapped him on the
back. Normally Tyler would revel in his good-natured conversation,
but not anymore.

“With the number of kids you have, it should last you at least one

meal.”

“You’re right! Macy’s expecting again, wouldn’t you know it.”

The redheaded man wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “She’ll be
happy if you stopped by for a meal.”

Tyler slipped out of his friendly hold. “I have a ton to do, but if I

have a chance, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Thanks for the offer.”

He roamed off the beaten path, not in the mood to small talk with

the usual crowd. It was the same greetings, smiles, and gossip. By
nightfall they’d return to their families or bunk buddies, Tyler
forgotten. For a brief moment in time he belonged, had his own man
to share his life with. But as soon as he had the world in his grasp, it
was snatched from him. His foster family had stolen everything from
him—his innocence, his self-respect, family, security, and now
Marcus.

Loving Tyler

Chapter Nine

“Good work, Marcus. You’re definitely going places.” His

supervisor scanned the files of the new account, a satisfied smirk on
his face. Marcus had worked his ass off to get Calvin Brackworth to
sign with Cavendish. He’d taken him out to dinner, given him front-
row seats at a home game, and offered him a competitive commission.
He was no Tyler James, but he was a rising young star in the rodeo.
The extra work over the past three weeks had helped Marcus live life
without dwelling on his aching heart and the memories that were
likely all counterfeit.

“Do you still want me to attend the opening of the Smithfield

Rodeo next week?”

“With the Brackworth account in the bag, I definitely want you

there, Vinetti. We’re doing a big promo push. I want our banners
inside the ring where the cameras are aimed. Get some live
interviews, endorsements from any of the big names.”

“I’ll do my best.”
Marcus drove home just after sunset, a light rain making the

pavement ahead of him appear as a static haze. He hated nights like
this, and there’d been many lately. These kinds of nights were made
for lovers, for cuddling up on the sofa and watching a good movie.
Since that wasn’t his destiny, he’d go home alone to an empty condo,
order some takeout if he wanted to eat, and file through his memories
as he stared into space. It was the reason he kept busy, and it was
better than the quiet reflection that could destroy him easier than a
rusty blade. What was Tyler doing now? Had he found another lover?
Did he ever think of him?

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He wanted to search him out and beg for him to love him, but

those were only moments of weakness. Marcus didn’t want a man
who was with him for convenience, pity, or any superficial reason. He
wanted love, the love he thought he experienced with Tyler. Their
lovemaking had allowed him to transcend to another level of
consciousness, but it was all a lie, a vicious lie. Fuck, he was a mess.

Marcus unlocked his unit and tossed his keys on the kitchen

counter. He ignored the ringing phone, knowing it was one of his
obnoxious relatives. After flicking on a couple lights, he pulled a
travel bag down from the closet in his bedroom. He stuffed random
clothes into the bag, not bothering to fold or organize them as was his
habit. Nothing seemed to matter, and his anal ways now made him
feel foolish, not refined as they once had. Would Tyler have wanted
him if he was more casual, more nonchalant about the little things in
life?

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off as he approached his

dresser. His reflection stared back, a stranger mocking him. Tyler had
consistently told him how attractive he was, but what good did that do
him if he wasn’t good enough to keep?

* * * *

Tyler dusted off his chaps once he eased up from the dirt floor in

the ring. The crowd roared when he waved his Stetson in the air.
Another easy victory under his belt. He disguised his wince when he
climbed over the fence. His ribs still ached on occasion, but
complaints of the body never stopped a cowboy. He had something to
prove, to himself and the bastards he knew were tracking his career.
He growled under his breath. If it weren’t for his foster brothers he’d
have Marcus with him right now. He’d be waiting for him, ready to
tend to his wounds. There wasn’t anything he wanted to see more than
Marcus’s smiling face. But it was only a memory that became a little

Loving Tyler

more blurry each day that passed. He didn’t even have a picture to
remember him by.

As he trudged his way back to his motel room to change, he heard

an all too familiar voice. Jet Cartwright, his old lover. He turned
towards the voice and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Still riding, I see.” Jet closed the distance between them, his

young blond in tow. He couldn’t fault the older man for his choice.
James Matthews was a regular piece of sunshine, thick-muscled with
that boy-next-door charm. It still didn’t sit right with Tyler to be the
unchosen one, forgotten and dismissed.

“That’s what I do. I didn’t see you on the riding log.”
“We’re ranchers now. James gets too nervous when I ride, so I’ve

stopped altogether.” Jet turned and winked at the blond.

“Ain’t that just dandy.”
“I heard word of you spending some time with a new fella back in

Essa.” Why did Jet have to sound so genuinely concerned? It brought
his emotions to the surface and made him feel worse than shit when
Jet stood there with his boy toy while he was alone. He’d told Jet
things he’d never told another living soul, and he trusted him to keep
those secrets, even now. But things weren’t the same as they’d once
been. Jet was a family man now, and Tyler was heartbroken, more
messed up than he had been to start with.

“A passing fancy, is all.”
“You wanna tell me something?” Jet was all dominance, hard to

deny. He had a sixth sense about human nature, so lying was out of
the question.

“They’re back. Slashed my tires again.” He’d told the older man

details about his past that made him cringe to this day. Jet was a good
listener, didn’t judge, and the only other man on the circuit he knew
of that was openly gay and proud of it.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this? You can’t keep hiding

forever!” James held Jet’s arms when he started to throw them around

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in anger. Tyler continued to feel like an outsider and just wanted to
get to his room.

He dragged his hand through his hair, not comfortable even

discussing the situation. “What would you do anyway, Jet? You know
what kind of people they are. You gonna get yourself killed and leave
your little sweetheart here all by his lonesome?” He shook his head,
knowing the answer.

“This have anything to do with the guy you were seeing?”
“It always does. You know that. Love isn’t in the cards for me,

not now, not ever.” He dipped his hat to James out of courtesy and
began to walk backwards up the road. “Don’t be worrying about little
ol’ me, Jet Cartwright. I’ve managed to survive this long…”

He twisted to face the road, picking up his step. There was

nothing to say that could change the situation, no matter how much he
wished it.

“Join us at the pub tonight!” Jet called from the distance. He only

raised his arm to confirm he’d heard, no promises.

The next morning, after a fitful night, he showered, shaved, and

dressed for the big event. It would be a media circus today with the
much anticipated bull riding events. Tyler rarely entered, but today he
did. Why the fuck not?

He donned his finer plaid shirt, knowing his fans would ask him to

pose for photos. As much as he respected Jet and had no personal
reservations about his beau, he hoped he didn’t run into them. He
needed to be alone in order build up his barriers again, to kiss away
everything Marcus brought to the surface.

The first thing that caught his eye as he walked the perimeter of

the main event ring was the oversized banners for Cavendish. His
heart immediately clenched in his chest. Visions of Marcus had his
pulse racing. But a banner meant nothing. Cavendish advertised at
most medium- to large-size rodeos, so it didn’t mean the man he
loved was somewhere just out of sight. Even if he was, nothing could
come of it. He had to avoid Marcus for his own good. Tyler’s life was

Loving Tyler

riddled with danger, and Marcus didn’t deserve to deal with his
baggage.

He didn’t have to ride for hours, but liked to size up his

competition and check out the temperament of the animals before his
turn. From his seat on one of the bleachers, his pulled out a crumpled
pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He’d quit the filthy habit for Marcus,
but now needed any help he could get to help his frayed nerves.

There was plenty of horse trading going on. Tyler only paid half

his attention to the different groups of people around him, half in a
daze. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, but ended up swatting away the
fog when he swore he caught a glimpse of his angel. He sat straighter,
focusing on the distant figures. His eyes hadn’t deceived him. Marcus
Vinetti, in all his masculine, refined glory was standing just out of
earshot. He was talking to Bryce Coldwater, one of his greatest threats
in competition. Was he here to sign Bryce to Cavendish? Had Marcus
fallen for another man so soon? Just seeing the two talking, laughing,
only a foot separating them, made the stink of jealousy pierce his
heart. He stood up a couple times, but sat himself back down. It
wasn’t his business. He’d cut Marcus loose, so Tyler had no right to
interfere in his life.

Why was it so hard to look the other way? He didn’t know much

about Bryce, but he already judged him to be his enemy. Tyler sized
him up, knowing he could easily take him down in a fight, if it came
to that. He took another drag, trying to calm the vicious desire
swirling in his head. Marcus was his.

“Bryce. Good ride earlier.” Tyler couldn’t resist. He came up

behind the couple, keeping his best poker face in place.

“Thanks.”
Marcus turned, recognition blanching his features. “Tyler, what

are you doing here?”

“Looks like a rodeo, and I’m a cowboy.” He returned his attention

to the other man. “So, you signing on with Cavendish?”

“Thinking on it.”

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Why was Bryce acting so cool and collected? He leaned against

the fence, hips thrust out to show off his buckle. Tyler gritted his teeth
so hard his jaw ached. Was he trying to impress a potential sponsor or
Marcus, the man?

Tyler nodded, not knowing what the fuck to say, but not willing to

leave the men alone. He brought what was left of his forgotten
cigarette to his lips. Marcus reached out and grabbed his wrist before
he could inhale. “Smoking’s not good for you.”

He did care. Tyler’s body slumped in relief, his previous tension

pooling around his prized boots.

“I tend to remember you mentioning that before.” He stomped out

his cigarette. They stared at each other now, mirroring a similar
longing. As much as he should push Marcus away, every cell in his
body screamed for him to hold on, to never let him go. They’d find a
way to make it work. They had to. Even if he had to go to Jet for
advice or leave the rodeo altogether, it would be worth it to have
Marcus back. Without him, he was just existing, as he had all his
adult life. He’d never really live until they were together again. Really
together as a committed couple.

“We still talking business, Marcus?” Hearing his man’s first name

on Bryce’s lips made him see red, especially when Tyler was vying
for Marcus’s attention.

“He’s done talking business,” said Tyler, still entranced by the

dark-haired, Italian stud.

Reality and fantasy momentarily blurred as he nearly lost his

balance. Had Bryce really just shoved him? He laughed out loud.
“Worried about your sponsorship?”

His nonchalance appeared to piss the younger cowboy off. “Hell

no! They’re looking for rising stars, not fags with a death wish.”

Tyler did what he did best, reacted without thinking. He barreled

forward into the other man and let the punches fly. They swung back
and forth, muttering curses and trying to dole out the most damage.

Loving Tyler

Marcus finally pulled him off Bryce, and he landed back on his

ass, hyped up for more. The city boy’s strength surprised him, but
then again, he’d seen his developed muscles up close and personal.
“Enough!”

“He’s trying to weasel in on my sponsorship. Cavendish sent you

here to recruit me, not him.” Bryce stood up and tucked in the tails of
his shirt.

“Tyler already refused a sponsorship from us last month.” He ran

a hand through that silky, black hair he adored.

“Good. Then why don’t you fuck off.” Tyler lunged at the other

man again, but Marcus intervened, holding him back with an
outstretched arm.

“Marcus, I need to talk to you in private. Just you and me,

darlin’.” He didn’t care what Bryce thought. In fact, he wanted him to
know they were an item, that Tyler had claim over the man.

“Tyler, I have business…”
“Business with me.” He deepened his tone, letting Marcus know

he wasn’t playing games. This wasn’t just about getting him away
from Bryce. He did need to talk with him, to confess his true feelings,
explain why he pushed him away, and plan a future they could both
live with.

Winona Wilder

Chapter Ten

Marcus always had Tyler in the back of his mind, but he never

expected to find him way out here in Smithfield, especially when the
events were centered around the bulls. Tyler promised never to ride
the bulls again, and he didn’t like the thought of him risking his life.

When he showed up, Marcus swore his heart stopped beating for a

second. It was like seeing a ghost after grieving for his love for so
many weeks. But Tyler had claimed to not want him, which was why
he returned to the city with a cloud of despair hanging over his head.
Now Tyler acted possessive, as if he wanted him for more than a
casual affair. Although he stopped the fight soon after it started, he
had to admit that it made his cock hard as granite. Watching Tyler
fight for him, display such passion, proved he wasn’t as cold as he
had portrayed.

He allowed Tyler to lead him away, unwilling to witness another

fight, and he desperately wanted to hear what the cowboy had to say.
He prayed now, as he did every night, that Tyler would actually love
him, that the man he fell in love with wasn’t just a mask.

“Where we going?” he asked as they entered the dim interior of an

aging barn. Sunlight beamed in through the many cracks, like lasers,
highlighting the dust motes. It smelled rich of sweet hay.

“I needed to find a little hideaway. My motel’s at the other side of

town, and I couldn’t wait another second to get you alone.”

“The air’s heavy in here. I doubt it’s good for my lungs.” He

kicked at the hay littered on the concrete center of the barn. This barn
hadn’t been maintained in ages.

Loving Tyler

“That’s right. You’re delicate, aren’t you, sweet thing.” He

cupped Marcus’s face and leaned in for a kiss. Marcus pulled back in
a rush, straining his neck he moved so fast.

As much as he wanted to succumb, he couldn’t forget the fact

Tyler had pushed him away, made him feel smaller than an ant. “You
told me you weren’t meant to change. You made me feel like a man
whore.”

Tyler shook his head. “Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean any of

that.”

“Then why? I thought everything was going so well between us,

then the whole three-sixty. I don’t know what to believe.”

He grabbed him by the belt, tugging him against his chest.

“Believe that I love you,” Tyler whispered against his ear.

Marcus closed his eyes and exhaled, savoring the words, wanting

to believe them. “For how long this time? A day? A week? Until
something better comes along?”

“I know I hurt you, but I did it because I care, not because I don’t.

My life ain’t peaches and cream. You deserve better.”

“That should be my choice.”
“You’re right. And I’ve been sick since you left. I want you to

choose me, choose us. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. No
cigarettes. No bulls. No lies.”

He knew his voice would crack, but he spoke anyway. “Promise?”
Tyler chuckled and dropped his face against the side of his neck.

Marcus could hear him breathe in his scent, and feel the heat as he
exhaled against his sensitive skin. “I missed your smell. It was on the
shirt you wore for a couple days, but then it faded away.”

“I’m here now.” If Tyler was playing with him, it would utterly

destroy him, but he couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to resist. “All I’ve
thought about is you. I’ve been like a zombie most days.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. If it’s any consolation, I’ve felt worse than

shit since you left. You give my life meaning.” He kissed his lips.
Once. “I need you, Marcus Vinetti.”

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“You do realize we’re the worst possible match, don’t you?”
“That’s why it’s gonna work.” He pressed Marcus’s hand against

the front of his jeans. Tyler was hard, threatening to blow the zipper
clean off his Wranglers.

“What about my condo? My job at Cavendish?”
He nipped Marcus’s jawline, sending an erotic current sizzling

through his body. “Details.” Tyler continued his assault with his lips
and now his hands. He unbuckled him without looking, and then
began to tug up his shirt.

“You sure you’re not just horny?”
“I promise you I’m horny,” he said in that sexy Southern drawl.

“You’ll find out soon enough. But that’s just one element. You’re
mine, Marcus. I won’t leave you, I won’t share you, and I want you
for more than sex.”

* * * *

Tyler continued to undress Marcus, needing to feel him skin to

skin. It had been so long. Every minute felt like an hour, every day, a
year, when they were apart. He wanted to indulge himself on his
lover’s golden muscles, to give him enough pleasure he that he’d
never want to return to the city.

“How’re your ribs healing?” asked Marcus.
“Don’t change the subject. All I care about right now is you.”

Tyler felt the beast clawing inside him, urging him to let loose.
Marcus was no delicate flower, but all hard, sinewy muscle. He’d be
able to handle what Tyler dished out, no matter how rough. When he
yanked off the other man’s shirt, revealed sculpted pecs and abs, he
had to step back to get a full view. “You’ve been working out.”

“It helped keep me from going nuts. All I’ve thought about is

you.” His dark eyes looked haunted, and Tyler felt like an asshole
from putting him through such turmoil. He should have been honest
from the get-go and worked something out between them. Love at

Loving Tyler

first sight couldn’t even begin to describe the full and utterly complete
attraction Tyler had for Marcus, body and soul.

He tentatively trailed his fingertips down his chest, watching his

reaction. When his eyes lit up and lips parted, it was Tyler’s sign to
continue. He walked Marcus backwards until the backs of his legs hit
two stacked bales of hay. “Ever been fucked in a barn before,
Marcus?”

“You should know. I haven’t been with anyone else.” It wouldn’t

matter one way or the other, but knowing Marcus hadn’t strayed when
he returned home, as many jilted lovers did, pleased him. The city boy
was all his, and he’d devote his every breath to keeping him safe,
happy, and satisfied.

“Saving yourself just for me, eh, darlin’?” He sucked on his

shoulder, giving a slight nip. “Drop your pants. I’m going to give you
a little head.”

“Here? Anyone could just walk in.” All the bay doors of the

century-old barn were open, a slight breeze wafting through. With all
the traders and riders showing up early, it was very possible they
could get an uninvited guest.

“Drop ’em,” he demanded, licking his lips tauntingly. Marcus

shimmied out of his pants until they pooled at his ankles. He looked
side to side and slightly behind him to ensure they were alone before
he released his cock from his boxer briefs. The man was a god and
could have easily passed for a Calvin Klein model. Marcus leaned
back against the hay, the soft shadows outlining every ridge of
muscle, including the perfect V leading to his proud erection.

Tyler stroked him, just his hand making contact. He enjoyed the

divide between them, making the simple touch more erotic, and their
public surroundings more taboo. Marcus groaned and muttered
something incoherent, his eyes drifting open and closed. “Someone
might see…” he whispered.

Tyler bent down on one knee and lapped at the swollen mushroom

head of Marcus’s cock. He gasped and braced his elbows back on the

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bale. “If they wanna watch, they’re welcome. But like I told you, I
ain’t sharing.” It was funny how only a month ago Tyler was ready to
share Jet with James and anyone else who wanted to play. Now he
couldn’t even think of another man.

He sucked his dick down his throat, using his tongue to tease the

nub of skin at the base of his head with each upstroke. Every twitch
and moan from Marcus spurred him on. He wanted to bring his lover
to the pre-orgasmic realm before he flipped him over and fucked him
hard.

The sound of shuffling footsteps and voices echoed in the barn as

they neared. Marcus bolted upright, but Tyler held his hips and
continued to indulge on his ripe cock. He recognized the two distinct
voices. They were drifters, both gay. He’d had a fling with the
younger one, Josh, last year. If anyone knew Tyler’s illicit past, it was
them, so they wouldn’t be surprised to find him sucking a man’s dick.

“Tyler! They’re coming,” Marcus whispered harshly. The idea of

getting caught, of other men witnessing their lovemaking, made the
act that much more titillating. His own cock wept inside his jeans,
rubbing mercilessly against the coarse denim.

After one final lick, he stood tall, braced Marcus’s shoulders, and

kissed him. Their mouths molded together, hot and demanding, but he
felt the other man continually pull away. He was standing in the nude,
his cock poking Tyler’s stomach, while he was fully dressed.

The uninvited spectators drew near, almost at the opening of the

side doors they’d entered. Tyler flipped Marcus around and used the
flat of his hand against his back to hold him down against the prickly
bale of hay. He almost chuckled, knowing his city boy would be
worried about bugs and hay dust. Tyler unbuckled and released just
his dick, and then used a dollop of his own saliva to coat Marcus’s
pretty, little asshole. The slight touch made the other man jolt in
awareness.

“Tyler! Let me up, for God’s sake. People are coming!”

Loving Tyler

Tyler positioned his dick and penetrated his tight ass, thrusting

forward in a firm, smooth motion. He gasped and gripped fistfuls of
hay as Tyler breached his unforgiving sphincter muscle. His body
hugged his cock, so warm and snug, the perfect fit.

He kissed his sexy Italian’s back, smoothed his hands up and

down his arms, and admired his firm ass pressed tight to his groin.
Before he’d given Marcus the time to fully adjust to his invasion, the
men entered the barn. They stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of
Tyler with his cock in another man’s ass. No one said a word, and
Tyler returned his attention to his man.

After pulling out slightly, he worked back in until he established a

steady rhythm. Marcus struggled beneath him when he noticed the
two men watching their intimacy. He leaned over his back and
whispered in his ear. “They’re just watching, sweet thing. You’re a
beautiful sight.”

His dick had never been harder. He gripped his hips and

pummeled his ass. Tyler’s balls pulled up tight, his body coiling for
release. Marcus stopped focusing on the public exhibition and
accepted his cock, moaning and grinding back against him.

“Tell me you’re mine, Marcus. Tell me for everyone to hear.” He

punctuated each sentence with a hard thrust.

“Yes!”
“Yes, what?”
Marcus’s back was sweat-glistened, the droplets from his own

forehead dripping down onto his moist flesh. “I’m all yours. Only
yours,” he muttered. A few more forceful thrusts and Tyler came, his
orgasm nearly blinding him from the intensity. He growled and
pumped his seed into Marcus, claiming him, marking him forever.

He secured his cock in his jeans and sat down on the bale, nearly

collapsing from exhaustion. “Roll over, darlin’.” Was he still being
shy? Tyler didn’t think he’d reached his peak and wanted to ensure he
received the same pleasure that he did. He had to nudge him to sit
upright, and even then he tried to cup his solid erection with his

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hands. Marcus’s modesty was adorable, but Tyler didn’t want him to
feel shame or insecurity—not anymore, not as long as they were
together.

After prying his hand away, Tyler began to pump the man’s cock.

Their two-man audience had hungry looks in their eyes, one of them
reaching in his own pants to play with himself. “Look at me, Marcus.”
The other man sat a little straighter, and turned to look him in the
eyes. “Do you like the way I’m touching you?”

He nodded.
“Come for me. Right here, right now. I wanna milk you until my

hand is covered.”

His words appeared to undo his lover. He closed his eyes, his

mouth opening in a soundless cry as Tyler fucked him hard and fast
with his hand. His release was punctuated with a loud exhale. He
leaned over and kissed Tyler, probably needing the reassurance that
this wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t.

Marcus’s cum shot out in a wide, white arch, coating his hand and

the hay between his legs. “Good boy.” Tyler kissed him back, ready
to go again, but knowing it was time for them to leave. With their
pent-up passion alleviated, they could talk with clear heads.

Once decent, they made their way to the bay door. “You’re a

lucky man, Tyler,” said one of the men from behind them.

“I know it!” And he did.

Loving Tyler

Chapter Eleven

They’d stayed in Tyler’s hotel for two nights while he rode in the

events he’d registered in. It had rained last night, heavy enough that
the static hush on the roof had lulled Marcus to sleep. Now he awoke
in Tyler’s strong arms. The cowboy was still asleep, his chest gently
rising and falling. He snuggled in close, resting his head on his
shoulder. It was a grey day, no sunshine trying to get in through the
cracks in the curtains even though the digital clock put them at nine
thirty in the morning.

So many things had to be resolved in Marcus’s life if they were to

have a life together, but he wasn’t sure how to handle things. He knew
Tyler was still keeping secrets which created a rift between them.
There had to be one-hundred percent trust for their love to grow.
Marcus didn’t care about Tyler’s unsavory past or old bedmates, but
he did demand they be open and honest with each other in the present.

When he attempted to roll away, Tyler shifted and pulled him

back against him, kissing his forehead. “You awake?”

“For a while.”
“I don’t ride today. We can do something together. Want me to

show you the sights around town?”

“Maybe we should just talk.”
“Is this the talk where you tell me you have to get back to the

city? Or the one where we ride off into the sunset together?”

He chuckled. “I’ve never even ridden a horse.”
“Good Lord, how is that possible? That’s what we can do today.

I’ll teach you to ride.”

“I don’t know…What about our talk?”

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Tyler’s hand warmed circles on his side. “We’ll borrow two

geldings and ride out past the mustard fields you love. We can talk
out there, just you and me.”

They showered and dressed before heading out for the day. The

overcast sky was ominous, warning of severe weather to come.
Marcus didn’t think now was the best time to ride out into the fields,
but he wouldn’t lose this chance for a one-on-one talk.

“I remember Ben from last year. He’s a good-tempered horse for

your first run.” Tyler ran his hand lovingly along the animal’s neck.
“I’ll teach you how to saddle him.”

His cowboy left the stall and came back with a heavy Western

saddle, lugging it atop the saddle blanket he’d placed on the horse’s
back. Tyler’s confidence and skill turned him on. Staying in the same
place as Tyler was a major adjustment. He lived by the seat of his
pants—no agendas, schedules, or organization whatsoever. It was
good for Marcus because he was too uptight, too consumed by rules
and order. Being with Tyler was like rest for his mind, peace he’d
sought all his life. The only place he was fully accepted for who he
was, no acts, no trying to impress.

Tyler’s arms came out on either side of him, his chest against his

back. “Pass me the cinch, the brown one there.” He proceeded to
thread one fastening through another, twisting and knotting like he’d
done it a thousand times, and he probably had. When Tyler pulled the
slack tight, pressing his body tight against Marcus’s back, he wanted
to say screw the trip so they could return to their room. He kissed the
side of Marcus’s neck when he was finished. “Just watch your toes.”
Then he backed the beast out of the stall and out to the paddock.

He had a new respect for Tyler once he was up in the saddle. The

skills he’d seen the cowboy display during events was unparalleled,
even amongst the other riders he’d observed.

“Careful there. You’ve got a lot of power between your legs.”

Tyler winked and raced off through the open gate into the fields. He’d
told him how to handle the horse, but he didn’t expect to start racing

Loving Tyler

straight out of the gate. Marcus prodded the horse, and they began to
walk. Then the pounding of hooves grew closer and Tyler reappeared,
circling him and his horse. “You’ve gotta keep up, sweet thing.” He
swatted the rump of his horse with the ends of his reins. Marcus had
to grab the saddle horn to keep from flying off the back. They raced
the fields, side by side. At first he’d been terrified, but the further they
went, the more he began to enjoy the speed and the rush.

Maybe country living wouldn’t be as bad as he imagined. Being at

one with nature, living by his own rules—it was a tempting prospect.
They settled into a trot as they neared their destination. The distant
fields were a stunning yellow, almost unnatural in their brilliance.
These were the kinds of miracles he never got the joy of experiencing
at home in the concrete jungle.

“Whoa…” Tyler pulled his horse to a stop and leapt down onto

two booted feet. “This seems like a nice spot.” He brushed back his
waves of brown hair from his face and reached up to help Marcus
down. His eyes seemed to glow green as they reflected the bright
white cloud cover.

“So peaceful.”
“I’m all yours until we head back into town.” He dropped down to

his back and positioned his arms behind his head. “I’ll admit I’m a bit
frightened about what you want to talk about.”

“Why?”
“I have a feeling you’re gonna try and convince me to move back

to the city with you.”

What he wanted to talk to Tyler about was the distance he kept

between them, however subtle. The way he’d dismissed him
originally, as if Marcus was disposable, was done for a reason. Had he
been hurt in a past relationship? He wanted to assure Tyler he had no
plans on hurting him, that he was in this for the long haul. His own
parents had been married forever, and he had the same sense of
commitment hardwired into him.

Winona Wilder

They were about to take a huge leap forward, so he had to feel

secure in his decision. To be certain Tyler wasn’t being fickle when it
came to their relationship.

“Not necessarily. The country’s kind of growing on me.” He sat

down beside Tyler and hugged his knees. The air was sweet, the wind
creating a wave through the distant barley fields.

“So you’ll stay with me this time? I can’t imagine you traveling

the circuit. Cheap motels, no air-conditioning, greasy spoons…you’ll
be miserable.”

“What are you saying? That’s it? We should go our separate ways

before we even start?”

Tyler tugged him over until he lost balance and fell to his back.

“Look at the sky. Ain’t it beautiful? I used to search for shapes in the
clouds when I was a kid. They’re never the same, constantly changing
and drifting to new locations—”

“Like you?” He turned to look at the cowboy.
“I suppose. It’s not the life I want. I mean, doesn’t every man

want it all? Love, sex, security, happiness?”

“I’m offering you that. I’m giving you everything I am, but you

need to do the same.”

Tyler rolled to his side and kissed Marcus on the cheek.

“Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“It’s not enough. I want you.” He placed his hand on Tyler’s

heart. “What’s in here.”

Rather than follow him down the road of happily ever after, the

cowboy abruptly got to his feet, dragging both hands through his hair.
He looked rattled, ready to lose precious control. “It’s ugly in there,
Marcus. Some things are better left alone. Darlin’, I’ve given up
smoking, bulls, men, my whole life as I know it…ain’t that enough
for you?”

“No.”
“What the fuck do you want? You ask for things I can’t possibly

give you.”

Loving Tyler

Marcus wasn’t going to bow out this time. He liked Tyler taking

the lead in their relationship, craved it, but it was time to make a
stand. Marcus rose to his feet and got nearly chest to chest with the
other man. “You’re not the only one giving up things. I was about to
make partner at Cavendish! Do you realize how much cash I’d have
coming in if that happened? I have a luxury condo, half paid off. Back
home I had order, routine, and security. What do I have now?
Horseshit and bedbugs?”

“You just told me you wanted me, were willing to give up

everything. You sound pretty resentful for a man ready to turn his life
around.”

“I’m only resentful because I’m ready to give one-hundred

percent, but you’re only offering seventy-five. Is that fair?”

“Well maybe you’d be happier with your piles of money. For

God’s sake, if you think money can buy love, more power to you!”
He stormed off towards the horses. Marcus followed and spun him
around by the shoulder.

“I’m the one ready to give up the money—for you! Doesn’t that

mean anything to you, Tyler James?” Marcus grabbed him by the
shirt, shaking and tugging, desperate to get through to him. Fear of
losing the best thing in his life, and an equal fear of settling down
with an emotionally distant man, left him terrified and desperate.

Tyler laughed with little true humor. “You trying to hurt me, city

boy?” He even held out his arms to the side, offering himself as a
punching bag, as if there was no way Marcus could hurt him. Without
thinking, he pulled back his elbow and gave the cowboy one to
remember right in the gut. He coughed and doubled over, grabbing his
stomach. Marcus expected him to retaliate, knock him into next
month. He feared what Tyler was capable of, being the stronger of the
two. This time he laughed with full mirth. “You’ve got a good arm,
darlin’.”

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“You aren’t going to hit me back?” Part of him wanted Tyler to

fight him, to bring their anger to a pinnacle and see where it took
them.

“I’d never hurt you.” Tyler cupped his face and kissed him with

more passion than he’d ever known. Marcus’s heart was still beating
hard, his breathing ragged. With all the adrenaline spiking through his
body, mixed with heightened emotion, he was completely susceptible
to the erotic advance.

* * * *

His little angel had fire. And it turned him on. He’d always had

issues distinguishing genuine emotion from sex, but in this case, he
knew he loved Marcus. He couldn’t live without the city boy.

“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” he said.
Marcus smirked. “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”
He leaned against him, seeking comfort and affection. For once in

his life Tyler was eager to give it. He ran his hands through Marcus’s
silky hair. “I want to be honest with you. I’m trying…but it’s not
easy.”

Marcus led him by the hand to their spot on the grass. Such a

simple act of hand-holding was, in many ways, more powerful than
sex. Tyler tugged off Marcus’s shirt, and then lay down on the soft
ground. “What?”

“Come straddle me. I wanna look at you when we talk.”
He obliged him, lowering over Tyler’s middle, sitting partially on

the erect cock straining in his jeans. “Okay, talk to me.” It was
distracting watching Marcus, the sunlight making his golden skin
shine, highlighting the lines of his muscled frame.

This had to happen. He’d keep holding back to protect Marcus

only to end up losing him again. “My childhood wasn’t a fairy tale. I
accept that. But when I was fifteen I was sent to a new foster
home…” He swallowed hard, squeezing Marcus’s thighs. Revealing

Loving Tyler

these details of his life made him feel weak, less of a man. These were
the demons in his closet, but they were also a real life nightmare.
“They were homophobic. Beyond that. It was more like a raw hatred
and they focused all that hate on me—the father and the two sons.
Those boys did some wicked things to me, things that I don’t even
want your sweet ears to hear.”

“None of that’s your fault.”
“Doesn’t matter. I took off as soon as I turned of age, but they’re

determined to ruin me. Those white trash miscreants are jealous of my
success. They don’t believe fags belong in the rodeo. The man you
saw at my truck when my tires were slashed was one of my foster
brothers.”

Marcus’s face blanched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared. Not for me, but for you. If they know how much I

love you, I don’t doubt they’d hurt you just to bring me more pain.”

“You should have told me. We’re a team, and we’ll get through

this together. Have you told the police about them?”

“This ain’t the city. There’s an unwritten rule on the prairies to

take care of yourself, to handle your own business. Only lily-livered
men would run to the cops. It’s the same reason I never did tears or
told the authorities when I was a teen, under their rule. Cowboys
aren’t supposed to cry. If anything, they made a man of me.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, that’s not making you a man. That’s

sick.” He tenderly rubbed his stomach. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine. I welcome your punishment.” Tyler smiled.
“I never want to hurt you. I want to help.”
Marcus leaned over, pressing his body flat against his. He kissed

his neck, sweet individual kisses. “There’s nothing you can do, sweet
thing. Just let me take care of you.”

Winona Wilder

Chapter Twelve

“I feel like a fish out of water.” Tyler gazed out the passenger side

window as they drove through the gridlock traffic. They’d gotten a lot
accomplished in the two days since arriving in the city. After the
Smithfield rodeo closed up, Marcus took Tyler with him to settle his
affairs. His condo was now officially on the market for sale, not that
he’d ever had a soft spot for the place. He’d also stopped in to
Cavendish and talked with his boss about his future with the
company. Although he half expected to lose his job, he was offered a
position as a part-time recruiter. Since him and Tyler would be
visiting different rodeos around the neighboring states, there would be
plenty of opportunities for him to sign up new talent for Cavendish.

There was one thing he did require—roots. He’d give up the

notion if it meant losing Tyler, but he had the feeling the cowboy
needed them just as much as him. Maybe more. Marcus wanted to be
everything Tyler never had. He wanted to offer him unconditional
love, acceptance, and understanding for as long as he had breath.

“Where will go? The next event isn’t for two weeks.”
“Wherever you want. You know I’m using to traveling.”
Marcus merged into the left-hand lane. He wanted to stop by his

cousin Franco’s apartment to leave him a set of keys for emergencies
until his condo sold. “I’m not. Don’t you ever crave settling down in
one place?”

“Doesn’t make sense when you work the circuit.”
“But you’re not single anymore, and not getting any younger.

Besides, come November, you have no events until late spring.”

Loving Tyler

Tyler kept quiet for the remainder of the drive. Marcus pulled into

the visitor’s parking at Franco’s apartment complex and got out.

“You want me to come up or wait here?”
He leaned into the open driver’s side window and glared at his

cowboy. “Of course I want you to come with me. I’m not ashamed of
you.” Far from it. Tyler was God’s gift to men from his strong jaw
and fuck-me eyes, to those broad shoulders and tailored waist. He
could also rock denim like no other. Marcus was proud to have him as
a significant other, even though he wasn’t quite ready to reveal his
sexuality to his parents, and probably never would be. He wasn’t
naïve enough to believe he could change the world just because he’d
finally learned to accept himself.

Tyler rolled out his big body as he stood, stretching out all those

delicious muscles. Before they could walk to the entrance, Tyler held
him back. Leaning against the car, he held him loosely on the hips.
“About what you said earlier, I do want to settle down. I can just
imagine having out own little piece of paradise. It’s
just…complicated.”

Marcus sighed, knowing just how complicated their lives would

be, but still willing to risk it all for the love of Tyler. “We’ll talk about
it tonight.”

They took the elevator up to the twelfth floor. His heart began to

pump harder the closer they got. He watched the floors light up on the
control panel bringing them closer to their destination. Of all his
relatives, Franco seemed the most likely to accept his alternative
lifestyle. He wasn’t into the old ways of the Vinetti family but
embraced modern conveniences and partied like the best of them.
Although they’d been close growing up, they’d lost that connection
over the years. Marcus blamed himself. He was so busy with his
career and blinded by his introverted ways and secrets. Tyler was
changing all that.

“Where’ve you been? I’ve called your place a dozen times.”

Franco filled the open doorway. “Who’s your friend?” He gave Tyler

Winona Wilder

the once-over from top to bottom. The cowboy was nice to look at
and an imposing sight. With cowboy hat and boots and that big silver
buckle, he was the one who stood out now.

“Long story.” He pushed past his cousin. “This is Tyler James.

Tyler, this is Franco.” The place was a typical bachelor’s joint. Empty
pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, beer bottles lined the
coffee table in front of the television, and clothes hung on the backs
of most chairs. Marcus shuddered. He’d love to have an hour alone to
clean up the place. His cousin was at a precarious age, too old to live
with his parents and too young to push him into marriage. It wasn’t
healthy to live alone forever, and Marcus knew that all too well.

Franco flopped onto the corner of the loveseat, while Tyler and

Marcus sat across on the sofa. “What’s going on?”

“My condo’s up for sale. I don’t have any plants or anything, but

was hoping you could check on the place for me once in a while.”

“Sure. But, selling? You getting married, cuz? You’ve been there

for years.”

He took a deep breath, unsure if he could go through with spilling

the truth. Why was he ashamed when he had his dream man beside
him? That was all that should matter at this point.

Tyler’s deep Southern drawl surprised him. “We’re moving in

together, just the two of us. Your cousin just can’t seem to get enough
of me.” He winked at Franco. Marcus froze in horror and shock.

“Yeah…right.” Franco narrowed his brow, unwilling to accept the

truth, and no doubt thinking Tyler was fooling around.

“Damn straight. He’s made an honest man of me.” Tyler was

completely nonchalant, unnerved, continuing to take in the room
curiously, not even aware of the thick tension in the air. God, he loved
the man.

Franco sat straighten, his carefree nature slipping away. “You

mean? No way, you don’t mean…”

Marcus nodded, unable to say the words.
“I had no idea.”

Loving Tyler

“You know my mom and dad. I’ve grown good at hiding things,

but I’m not living in denial anymore.” He couldn’t garner his cousin’s
reaction. Was he just in shock or disgusted? Would he never speak to
him again once he left the apartment? “You still willing to watch my
place?”

Tyler interjected, once again. “Darlin’, why would he change his

mind? You’re not asking him to suck your dick, just watch your
condo for a spell.”

He felt his face heating, flames licking up his collar. He’d grown

used to his cowboy’s crude way of speaking. In the country, all the
men spoke in the same way, no time to worry about being politically
correct. He didn’t mind Tyler’s mannerisms. In fact, they endeared
him to his cowboy, but people not used to it would probably be
shocked to the core.

Then Franco laughed, a deep belly laugh that filled the apartment.

“If I were you, I’d have picked a man just like Tyler. Hey, you into
sports?”

“Bronc riding mostly. Marcus made me give up the bulls.” Tyler

leaned over his knees, both men ignoring him, becoming interested in
their small talk.

“Sounds just like Marcus.” Franco laughed again, his stiff stature

softening. “He’s always been an old stick in the mud.”

Tyler squeezed his knee. “Not anymore. He’s becoming a regular

drifter. No more folded napkins and antibacterial soap for him.”

The two men continued to compare stories about Marcus, but he

knew they both loved him, so it was easy to ignore—even though
embarrassing at times.

Marcus felt he’d crossed an ocean, an impossible hurdle. One of

his dear family members now knew he was gay and apparently was
okay with it, more than okay, even chumming up to his lover. An
immense weight was lifted from his shoulders as they returned to the
car hours later. The sun was lowering on the horizon, so they’d have
to choose a hotel for the night. So many things were on the cusp of

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changing, all for the better, but right now they were in the center of
chaos and confusion, which left Marcus uniquely vulnerable. He
needed Tyler at his side more than ever.

* * * *

“Fancy.” Tyler looked around the room. This place was nothing

like the shitholes he’d stayed at on many occasions. It was artistically
decorated, neat, clean, and spacious.

“At least we don’t have to worry about strange stains on the

bedding or about someone crawling through the window to steal your
boots.” Marcus collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Tyler hated for him to have so much stress and worry. It wasn’t
natural, and certainly not the cowboy way. Nobody lived a day longer
by worrying about things. In fact, it could age a man before his time.

He sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off his boots, and tossed his

hat on the nightside table. “You wanna talk?”

Marcus shook his head.
“I know you better than that. You love talkin’. Tell me why the

corners of your eyes are all crinkled up. Are you regretting
something?”

“Just worried. There’s so much to plan, so much to think about.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“You’re gonna worry yourself sick. There’s nothing to plan. Your

condo will sell when it sells. Until then we live day to day and enjoy
life. Once it sells, we’ll find a nice little place, pool our money, and
put down a nice, fat down payment. Now, let me do the worrying. It
doesn’t sit well with you.”

He blew out a breath. “I wish I could think like you.”
Tyler had had enough of Marcus and the black cloud he allowed

to hover over him. In Tyler’s mind, this was the best time of his life,
full of possibilities. He’d found a man he loved and had taken the leap
to commit. Marcus’s forearm lay across his eyes, his legs below the

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101

knee dangling off the edge of the bed. Tyler stood up and grabbed the
man’s belt in his fist, giving him a jerk.

“What’re you doing?” He raised his head, looking sinfully sexy

with his dark features and curious scowl.

Tyler unclasped his belt and peeled back the flaps of his pants.

“Taking away your stress.” He freed his semi-flaccid cock, which was
already firming up just from the slight touch.

Marcus didn’t refute him, just dropped his head back on the

mattress. As soon as Tyler sucked him into his mouth, he groaned and
muttered, “I love it when you suck my dick.”

“And I love your dick any way I can get it.” He proceeded to

indulge on Marcus’s now stiff erection, licking, teasing, and sucking.
His flesh was warm and silky. Tyler loved cock, loved Marcus. The
way the city boy lost himself, forgot his stress so he could focus on
the pleasure, made Tyler want to go down on him every day. Maybe
he would.

“Oh, yeah.” Marcus groaned and reached for Tyler’s shoulders.

He grabbed handfuls of his shirt, directing him to give more, which he
delivered. Tyler hollowed his cheeks and sucked him hard and deep,
working up to a frantic rhythm. Any minute and Marcus would
detonate, and this time he wanted it to happen in his mouth. This
wasn’t just about sex. It was about helping Marcus find some
temporary peace.

As he began to come, he tried to pull free, but Tyler pinned his

wrists as his side and swallowed every drop of his ejaculate. Marcus
writhed, struggled, and moaned until his prolonged release finally
eased and his body went pliant. Tyler crawled up on the bed over his
body. “Did that help?”

“I think I should worry in front of you more often.” He glanced up

through hooded eyes. “Let me do something for you.”

Tyler shook his head and dropped down beside him. “Take a rest.

When you wake up we’ll order some room service. I can’t wait to see
what this upscale place has to offer.” He gave Marcus a kiss and went

Loving Tyler

103

Chapter Thirteen

Marcus shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He’d been

sitting under the sheltered bleacher-style seats, but now that Tyler was
in the ring, he wanted a good view. And did he ever look magnificent
with his leather chaps and cowboy hat. The crowd cheered as soon as
the announcer said his name. His boyfriend was becoming a legend,
and he bet Cavendish was kicking its ass for not signing him, gay or
not. Times were changing, and Marcus was quickly learning that
change was good. Not everything could be programmed into a
BlackBerry scheduler. Sometimes a man had to go where life took
him, not knowing where he’d sleep the next night. As long as he had
Tyler, everything else would fall into place.

“Eight seconds,” said a voice from behind him. “That’s all it takes

to make or break a cowboy.” He turned to find that same lazy-eyed
man from months ago, the one Tyler said was his abusive foster
brother. Marcus alternated from watching Tyler in the ring to keeping
tabs on the creep behind him.

“Tyler will always be a winner,” he said proudly, daring the man

to contradict him. This loser was the one giving his true love
nightmares. The reason he’d almost broken up their relationship over?
When he turned back after checking on Tyler when the buzzer
sounded, the man was gone, disappeared into the crowd of spectators.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Should he tell Tyler about this?
He didn’t want to worry him for nothing. Marcus couldn’t imagine
that trailer park reject making any real trouble for them.

They recently signed the mortgage papers for their new home. The

closing date was in just three weeks. They were both so excited and

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Winona Wilder

eager to settle into a regular routine mixed with spontaneity. The two
men complemented each other perfectly, bringing out the best in one
another.

“You see me?” Tyler was out of breath, removing the wound up

protective fabric from around his gloves. The crowd parted for them
as they made their way away from the ring. Fans patted him on the
back and praised him. Tyler was forever gracious, even when
exhausted, smiling and shaking hands.

“You looked great out there.” He tried not to let any concern slip

into his tone and ruin his shining moment. Even as they walked side
by side he continually replayed the strange man’s words over and
over in his head. Were they meant to threaten Tyler? He could only
imagine what those heathens did to his sweet cowboy.

They were staying at another one-star hotel, but in these small

rodeo towns there was often little selection. It was better than sleeping
in the car or truck, as Tyler apparently did on many occasions before
they met. “I’m starved. How about I take a quick shower, and then we
can go get a bite to eat?”

“Sounds good.” He continually scanned the streets, ready for a

sneak attack of some kind. Marcus wouldn’t allow any assholes from
Tyler’s past to ruin what they were building together. Their new place
was out in the country with fifty acres. Tyler mentioned he’d love to
get into horse breeding when his body became too weary for the ring.
They had dreams, big ones, little ones, even silly ones…but they were
their dreams, and he wouldn’t have an outsider try and steal away
what was theirs.

By the time they left the hotel for dinner, Marcus was downright

paranoid. He’d continually checked out the window of their one-story
hotel, jotted down license plate numbers of strange vehicles, and was
jumpier than a guilty child. Could Tyler just have overreacted? Maybe
it wasn’t his foster brother who slashed the tires. Coincidences
happened every day, didn’t they?

Loving Tyler

105

They entered the local diner. At this point they all looked the same

to Marcus. He hadn’t sacrificed his dietary habits, but he’d
compromised a bit. They took a table at the end of the diner. “I
wonder if they have salads here,” he said, glancing at the menu.

“Darlin’, you need meat. Men need meat.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. They’d had this mock fight too many

times to count.

“If they don’t have salad on the menu I’ll make sure they whip

one up special for you.” He believed it. What Tyler wanted,
happened. He reached across the table and took Marcus’s hand in his.
“Remember that first night? We were sitting at a table just like this,
and I took your hand in mine. Little did I know you’d change my life
forever.”

“I came to try and snag you for Cavendish, but I got you for

myself.” He kissed Tyler’s knuckles, so full of love for this cowboy
he couldn’t begin to describe it. Those green eyes seemed to look into
his soul. Then the moment came crashing down when Tyler’s
attention was pulled to the aisle.

“You find yourself a new boyfriend, Tye?” Two men, one the

stranger from earlier, sidled up next to their booth. Tyler froze in
place, his face a blank slate. The stale odor of cigarettes and alcohol
was strong on the men’s clothing.

“What do you want, Adam?” Tyler pulled his hands away, his

posture straightened.

“It’s a public place. We’re just here to eat.”
“Then we’ll leave.” When Tyler attempted to stand, Adam, the

man with the lazy eye, pressed down on his shoulder.

He bent low to speak directly to Tyler. “I heard about your record

placement today. What did I tell you about tainting a real man’s
sport?”

Marcus studied Tyler, not sure if he should speak for him. His

cowboy’s jaw twitched and fists were clenched hard. Any minute and

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he’d strike. Tyler may have been more than twice as buff as the two
assholes, but there were two of them, both husky and menacing.

“Tyler’s more a man than you’ll ever be. If you’re so worried

about the future of the sport, why aren’t you in the ring? Because you
know he’d kick your ass all the way ’til Friday.”

No one spoke. Marcus was quite proud.
A waitress approached. “Problem here, boys?”
“Nope. We were just leaving,” said Adam. “But we’ll be seeing

you two later.”

Had he really yelled loud enough to attract the waitress? The

threat muttered was clearly evident, but at least they were leaving the
diner. Marcus felt the adrenaline leak from his pores once they were
out of sight.

“Where did all that come from?” Tyler stared at him as if he’d just

walked on water.

“What?” He shrugged and smirked. “You do the same for me all

the time. I wasn’t going to sit here while they tried to tear you down.”

“That’s my job, Marcus. I’m supposed to take care of you.” He

ran his hand through his tousled brown hair. “How can I protect you
every second? They’re always around, waiting for the perfect moment
to strike.”

“Soon we’ll have our own place, safe and off the radar.”
“Don’t you get it? It’ll take just one time for them to follow us

home or find out our address from one place or another and then
we’re fucked.”

Marcus wouldn’t accept this. He wouldn’t let bullies ruin his

chance at happiness. Hadn’t they done enough to Tyler when he was
growing up? He kept quiet. They ordered, ate, and had coffee. The
night beyond the glass beside them was black and impenetrable by
human eyes due to the glare from the indoor lighting. They were both
stalling, delaying the inevitable.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here?” Marcus finally asked.

Quiet was far worse than fighting in his opinion. A silent dagger

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107

working its way into his gut. At least a punch was over with in an
instant, not a lingering torture.

“I’d fight ’em.”
Marcus got up from his seat, tossed some bills on the table, and

headed for the exit.

* * * *

Where the hell was he going? He wasn’t taking the threat

seriously. Tyler knew what his foster brothers were capable of. They
were sadistic bastards, hate-filled, and ruthless. Not even the animals
on their ranch had been safe from those two. Tyler had always done
his best to defend the cowdogs and livestock, but he couldn’t always
be there and he was just a scrawny kid back then. He’d come home
one day after a back-breaking day on the fields to find his favorite dog
under his blankets, dead. It was one cruelty after the other. Now he
had Marcus to consider.

“Get back here!” he called out into the darkness. He could only

see the whites from the stripe on Marcus’s shirt.

He caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm. “Tyler, stop

babying me. I’m a grown fucking man. You don’t have to protect me
from some jerks from your past. I don’t understand the hold they have
on you, but it has to stop.”

“They’re not normal people. They live off the grid. Law and order

mean nothing to them, trust me.” He held Marcus close, unwilling to
have him disappear into the darkness.

“I won’t have them ruin what we’ve started together,” he

whispered. Tyler pulled him into his arms and held him, cooing
against his ear. He could stand like this forever.

A shrill whistle cut through the moment, abruptly pulling Tyler

into reality. “Look at the lovebirds, Glen.”

Adam laughed. “This is the future of the rodeo? A bunch of

queers holding hands?”

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Tyler pushed Marcus behind him. He wasn’t afraid for himself.

And he wasn’t surprised they were waiting for him. He’d been
through hell and back numerous times in his life—from his time on
his foster ranch to countless injuries in the ring and bar fights. He
could handle himself, but the thought of one finger touching his
boyfriend made him more dangerous than a mother bear guarding her
cub.

Marcus yelled over his shoulder, “He’s got more going than you.

Where’re your prize buckles? Do you even have a wife, or do you go
home and jerk off every night?”

“Hush,” said Tyler. He didn’t need to rile men that were already

raring to go.

“That’s right. You best listen to your boyfriend if you know

what’s good for you,” said Adam.

“You best watch the way you speak to him,” Tyler threatened. He

wasn’t sure if either man had a weapon, and his gun was under the
mattress in his hotel room. Either way, he’d be using his fists.

The moonlight glimmered off a metallic surface. He hadn’t even

thought of a knife. A knife was so much more threatening, could
cause more pain and suffering than a single gunshot. His foster
brothers often played with knifes in the past, taunting him, insisting
they’d cut off his balls if he didn’t do what they demanded. Those
traitorous childhood fears seeping into his mind, but they had no place
there. Tyler wasn’t a skinny teen anymore with no one to turn to. He
was a grown man, bigger than most, and he had Marcus’s love to
anchor him.

“You plan on using that?”
“I’d only be doing the world a favor,” said Adam, examining the

blade with a twisted admiration. Tyler wasn’t going to stand and wait
for one of them to strike. The night was dark, and they were in the
deserted area between the diner and motel, a no-man’s land with no
witnesses. It would be too easy for them to kill or injure him and
Marcus and get off scot-free.

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He took a deep breath, feeling his muscles tighten and heartbeat

increase as he prepared himself for action. Then he struck. Tyler
barreled forward and used his shoulder to plow Adam backwards until
he fell on his ass. Glen was on him like white to rice, but he wasn’t as
husky and Tyler easily knocked him flat. They didn’t give up easily,
continually getting back up and throwing sloppy punches. He
managed to kick the knife away when it hit the ground, but that didn’t
mean they had no others on them.

“Tyler!” Marcus’s deep warning sent a chill up his spine at the

same time he felt the cool metallic blade against his Adam’s apple. He
thought Glen was down for the count from the last punch, but he’d
come up behind him without a sound while he fought with Adam.

“You’re gonna kill me and risk going to prison for the rest of your

lives?” He could barely speak without the sharp edge of the blade
digging deeper against his throat.

“It’s a rodeo town. Men get drunk and stupid. Nobody will

suspect us, especially after we take care of your little bitch.” Without
worry for his own welfare, only concerned with ensuring Marcus
remained untouched, he elbowed Glen in the gut. He could feel the
slice of the blade along the side of his neck, the warm moisture
seeping forth, but no pain.

“Run, Marcus!”
He was becoming dizzy and unsteady on his feet, shuffling his

boots along the gravel. The advance of the two men on him was like a
hallucination, happening but he was unable to focus or feel.

Then the shot rang out. It was near deafening in the hushed

surroundings, snapping Tyler back to the present with a morbid fear.

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Chapter Fourteen

Tyler woke up in a sterile white room with drawn mint-green

curtains to the side of him. How did he get in a hospital, and why was
his head pounding? He tried to sit up on the bed, but thought better
and lay back down.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re staying put.”
He turned to the window where the voice originated. Marcus was

standing by the bed, the morning light spilling in from behind
highlighting him like an angel. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”
Tyler searched his muddled thoughts, digging deep and becoming

frustrated when he couldn’t recall any recent events. “I’m trying.”

“But you remember me, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He reached out, not wanting to upset his boyfriend.

The rodeo was closing up soon, and it was only a few weeks until
they moved into their new home. How the hell he ended up in the
hospital was the only wrench in his memories.

Marcus took his hand, and Tyler pulled it to his mouth and kissed

his knuckles. “What do you remember about last night?”

“Um…”
“Do you remember having dinner? What about riding earlier?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I remember you watching me ride.”
“And after?”
Tyler’s head began to pound again. Why couldn’t he remember?

Had he hit his head? He felt a dull throbbing at his neck and reached
to touch it. There was a thick bandage on the side of his neck. “What

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on earth? Darlin’, I don’t remember anything that happened after my
ride. Did I get tossed in another event?”

“Don’t touch.” Marcus gently smacked his probing hand. “You

got hurt pretty bad, but you’ll live. When I take you home, you’re
going to be under my care. Your season just got cut short.”

“But—”
Marcus shook his head. “No buts! You nearly got yourself killed.

We’ll wait out the next couple weeks at a decent motel, and then
you’ll park yourself on the sofa while my cousins and I move us into
our new home.”

“The fall must have knocked the sense out of me.” Tyler took a

cleansing breath, feeling full of butterflies despite being in the
hospital. He was alive and had the best man in the world to spend his
life with.

* * * *

Marcus stepped out onto the gleaming waxed hallway. The two

officers were waiting for his statement. He’d already been at the
police station half the night, but they wanted to find out what Tyler
knew about the murders. Since he couldn’t recall last night’s events,
Marcus was going to take his place for questioning. The small-town
cops didn’t look overly concerned when he joined them around a
small table in a nearby staff room. Apparently rubbing out a neighbor
wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in this part of the state.

“So…” the balding officer began.
He wasn’t going to play games. Marcus planned to advocate for

his boyfriend, come hell or high water. “Tyler can’t remember a
thing, and I want it to stay that way.”

“He was a witness. He’ll still need to make a statement.”
Marcus was in his element now. No fear or uncertainty. Handling

business and legal matters was his forte at work. They often used him
as a negotiator during contract talks. These hicks didn’t know who the

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fuck they were dealing with. “I’ll get him to sign an affidavit stating
that he has no recollection of last night. You’re not going to drag him
down a hellish memory lane just so you can update your files.”

The older man scratched his temple. “You don’t plan on telling

him?”

“No. I don’t.” He used this thickest executive voice, the one he

saved for businesses trying to swindle Cavendish. “And if any of you
feel the need to fill him in, I’m sure Cavendish saddles wouldn’t be
too eager to support the rodeo in this town next year, or the next,
which I believe helps pay the salaries for the police force.”

“You’re with Cavendish?”
“As Tyler would say, damn straight. Now, can we finish up? The

doctor said I can take him home this afternoon. Let’s not forget, we’re
the victims here.”

Marcus left the room and collected himself emotionally before

joining Tyler. It wouldn’t be easy keeping the truth from him, but
he’d carry that burden on himself. He’d rather live with nightmares
than pass them on to the man he loved.

When he’d seen the blood, watched Tyler fall to the ground, his

mind transcended his body. It was surreal and horrifying. At the
moment those two men went for the kill, Marcus didn’t hesitate in
pulling the small pistol from his waistband and firing. He’d secretly
taken Tyler’s gun along to the diner to calm his nerves, never
expecting he’d actually need to use it. Marcus hadn’t stopped shaking
all night after coming to the hospital, but he didn’t regret what he did,
what he had to do.

Tyler went into minor surgery to sew up the lacerations on his

neck. He lost a lot of blood, mostly from when he hit his head after
falling. The memory loss was an unexpected bonus. But he believed it
was more than that. Tyler often spoke about large segments of his
memories that had gone missing during the worst years of his
childhood, his body’s natural defense to keep some level of sanity in a

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113

world gone mad. This amnesia was a godsend, or exactly what his
mind needed as an excuse to forget events better left forgotten.

Marcus may have to keep the secret, live with the gut-wrenching

knowledge that he was responsible for taking two men’s lives, but it
was worth any suffering on his part. He loved Tyler too much. Now
his cowboy could live life without looking over his back, not have to
feel that sense of dread that one day his foster brothers would come
for him or Marcus. Tyler hadn’t even told him half the things they’d
done to him, the things that had him calling out in the night or waking
up sweaty and terrified. Even though they were dead and gone, self-
defense reported on the police record, there was no reason for Tyler to
deal with the drama. His mind gave him peace, and Marcus wasn’t
going to steal that away.

He reentered the room. “How’re you feeling now?”
“Can’t say I’m right as rain, but not too bad considering…”
Tyler’s hair was matted and his skin ashen, but he looked adorable

in a boyish way. All he wanted to do was bring him home, take care
of him, and love him. He never wanted to see this town, this hospital,
or these police ever again. Marcus wanted to put the ordeal behind
them and begin the life they were meant to live with each other.

“You look good for losing so much blood. Good thing you eat all

the protein you do.” He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

“Mmm, I could eat ten steaks right now. How long have I gone

without eating?”

“You’ll survive, cowboy.” Marcus leaned over and kissed Tyler

on the forehead. They’d make it through this together.

After a mountain of paperwork from the police and hospital staff

to get Tyler released, they were in Marcus’s car heading out of town.
It was strange driving and driving with nothing but prairies around
them on the endless stretch of highway. He imagined this had been a
snapshot of Tyler’s life when he lived as a drifter, going from one
town to the next, alone, with no roots or final destination. Marcus
looked to his side to find Tyler hunched to the side, asleep. He sighed

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contentedly. As long as he had Tyler, he could handle any obstacle.
He only prayed that a semi-stationary life wouldn’t be too dull for the
hardcore cowboy. Would he bore of Marcus over time? Would he
resent him if he ever found he hid the truth about last night?

* * * *

The recovery wasn’t too bad. His body was sore, but no worse

than taking a fall in the ring. After the accident his mind was a hazy
mess, and it drove him mad that he couldn’t remember the events.
Marcus was shaken to the core, despite trying to act unscathed.

They were staying in a new motel after he was released from the

hospital. That was when his memories began to return, as if a net was
lifted off his mind. He replayed the night over and over in his head,
not able to forget the fear on Marcus’s face. His city boy loved him.
He’d sacrificed everything for Tyler, and he wouldn’t ever forget that.

Marcus’s lies about the accident were forgivable, especially when

he had Tyler’s best intentions in mind. There were so many moments
he wanted to reveal he got his memories back, but didn’t want to
diminish the gift Marcus made. He’d taken the burden of that night on
his shoulders so Tyler wouldn’t have to suffer with the violent
memories.

The truth was, Tyler had dealt with much worse in his life. A few

more unsavory memories couldn’t break him. His past could no
longer control him because he had a loving, secure relationship to
ground him. He’d spend the rest of his life showing Marcus how
much he appreciated him.

* * * *

Tyler walked in small circles as he attempted to break one of his

new colts. Only two were green broke, but he’d have the other three
tamed in no time. In fact, he had all the time in the world. The sky

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was a robin’s-egg blue, not a cloud to be seen. Their land stretched
beyond the horizon, lush fields, and acres of hardwood. It had been
over a month since they’d settled into their new homestead and
decided to take up horse breeding as a side income.

“Hey!”
He turned, careful not to get tied up in all the slack from the

training lead. Marcus stood on the wraparound porch, just a towel
wrapped loosely around his hips. Lord, the man was magnificent. His
dark hair was slicked back, his skin golden and moist. “I’m just
finishing up.” Tyler cautiously approached the colt and then led him
back into the main barn. It was so odd having his own place. It would
take a lot of getting used to before he realized this was their home and
he never had to leave or worry about someone kicking him out.

Tyler dusted off his jeans with his Stetson as he stepped up onto

the balcony. Marcus welcomed him with a kiss, a soft, sensual kiss.
“You should get showered after all that work.”

“You just don’t want me smelling like a horse.” He chuckled and

playfully smacked Marcus on the ass.

Marcus shrugged before taking a seat on the bench swing, looking

off into the fields. Tyler often wondered if Marcus was happy here, so
far away from the city and everything he knew. Was the isolation
stifling him? Did he regret their relationship? He sat beside Marcus
and kneaded his thigh, setting the swing into motion. “You okay?”

“Great.”
“Do you want to go into town for dinner tonight? Or we could

pick up pizzas and bring them home?” He just wanted Marcus to talk
to him, really talk to him. There was something he held back, and he
suspected the cause but was reluctant to bring it up. He just wanted
him to be happy, like he’d made him. If moving to the city was the
answer, he’d do it in a heartbeat, even if it wasn’t his first choice.

“Sure.”
“Darlin’, look at me.” He turned the other man’s cheek to face

him. His eyes were glazed over. “What’s the matter with you lately?”

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He shook his head and looked away.
“Don’t you start with me. I know when something’s wrong with

you.” He took a breath. “You’re not happy.”

That garnered Marcus’s attention. “I am. I’m too happy, so happy

it scares me.”

“You’re not making any sense, baby.”
“I don’t want any secrets between us. Good relationships need a

solid foundation. But—” He could practically feel Marcus’s inner
conflict, see it twisting his handsome features.

“This have anything to do with the night I got hurt?”
Marcus frowned, clearly not expecting Tyler to know what he was

thinking. But he knew. He’d hit the heart of the problem and was
about to fix it. “I know all about it. If that’s what’s making you fret,
just stop.”

He twisted onto one leg, his towel nearly unraveling from its knot.

“What do you mean you know? How? Since when? Why didn’t you
tell me!”

Tyler laughed and pulled Marcus against him. They rocked,

looking out onto the land. Our land. “Two days after.”

“Two days!” He pulled back, nearly toppling off the swing. “I’ve

been driving myself nuts with guilt for over a month.”

“I know what you were trying to do for me, and I love you even

more for it. I didn’t want to spoil your gift.” And it was a gift. For
someone to care about him enough to put his needs and feelings first
was priceless. It was something he’d never experienced as a young
man, not even sure such love existed outside of country songs.

“You’re okay with it? With knowing and me not telling you?” He

looked like a puppy with his big brown eyes, eager for approval.

“All along, I was only worried about you. I’ve managed fine on

my own for years, but knowing they could hurt you, even place one
finger on you—that’s what made me crazy. You didn’t have to keep it
from me. They can’t hurt me here”—he touched his head—“because

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you’ve overridden everything. You’ve taught me what love is, taught
me that it’s okay to trust.”

“I’m sorry…” Marcus cupped his face.
“No, thank you.” They both leaned into each other, kissing,

touching, showing each other physically what they felt emotionally.
That invisible barrier that managed to slip between them, thickening
with each passing week, dissolved with their confessions.

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Chapter Fifteen

Marcus felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder, the

perpetual gloom—gone. He’d become so obsessed that one day a
cowboy who’d been in the town at the time of the murders would tell
Tyler, making Marcus look like a lying rat. He didn’t want his
boyfriend to hate him, especially when he did it out of love. Now that
everything was in the open, he could just enjoy each day, relax and
embrace their life together.

“Tell me though, sweet thing, does country life suit you? Do you

miss the city?”

He didn’t. There was nothing for him in the world he left behind.

He still talked with his family by phone, but they weren’t close
enough to just show up whenever they wanted. Franco came up to
visit a couple times, which was nice since he knew the truth. Living
without hiding was liberating. The balance was perfect, and the
country lifestyle grew on him to the point he couldn’t imagine
returning to congested traffic, lineups, and pollution. Besides, if Tyler
was happy, he was happy. Watching his cowboy teach the horses,
take care of their property with pride—it was special and precious,
moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“You’re not in the city, so no, I don’t miss it.”
“Do you realize we haven’t christened our ranch? It’s customary

where I come from. You’ll bring us bad luck if you keep holding off.”
Tyler’s eyes had changed from serious to playful. A hint of seduction
lay behind those beautiful green irises.

“Oh, really? And what does this christening involve exactly?”

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The cicadas droned off in the distance, a rustic lullaby for a lazy

afternoon, but the ancient oaks near the house provided welcome
shade to the front of the house. Tyler made sure to have a window air-
conditioner installed in their upstairs bedroom so Marcus wouldn’t
have trouble sleeping during the night when it was too hot and humid
for his lungs. He’d already found that being out of the pollution of the
city had helped his health tremendously.

Tyler urged him to stand in front on him with silent gestures. He

complied, fitting between his open legs as he looked up at him from
the bench swing. Then Tyler tugged the towel away, tossing it aside
with disregard.

“Well, well, well. When did this happen?” Tyler alternated

looking from Marcus’s eyes to his prominent hard-on, jutting out near
his face.

“I’m always hard for you. You know that.”
“Damn, I love your cock. It’s fucking gorgeous.” Tyler painted a

line along the hard ridges with a fingertip, a featherlight stroke when
he needed so much more. He wanted the cowboy to squeeze him, play
with his balls, anything to help squelch the heat burning in his veins.

Marcus sighed. He felt odd standing on his porch stark naked, the

warm breeze gently tickling his body. Both of Tyler’s hands cupped
his ass, pulling him forward into his hot, wet mouth. “Someone will
see,” he muttered, bracing his arms against the brick wall behind the
swing.

“Who’s gonna see what we’re doing way out here? The horses?

Darlin’, this is our place, and we can do what we damn well please.
Right now I want your dick in my mouth.” Tyler grabbed the root of
his erection and suckled him. He knew exactly what to do with his
tongue, lips, mouth to drive Marcus to the edge in record time. With
both hands supporting his weight against the bricks, he watched
Tyler’s mop of wavy brown hair bob back and forth, bringing him to
that place where nothing mattered but sex and more sex.

“I’m gonna come down your throat, cowboy.”

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Tyler pulled back, leaving him bobbing in the breeze. “The hell if

you are.” He unzipped his Wranglers and released his own cock—
hard, darkened by desire, and impossibly thick. A few days had
passed since they’d made love. That increasing stress no longer
existed.

“Can I sit on it?”
He growled. “No teasing.”
Marcus wasn’t playing. His ass felt achy and needy. He craved the

wicked rush of pleasure he knew Tyler’s cock could bring him once
he impaled his full length in his ass. He turned around and squatted
over his lap. His cock was throbbing, so he began to stroke himself,
unable to wait for Tyler to prep with his saliva.

“Okay, put it down on me, baby.”
He lowered down, and Tyler guided him. Even only a few days

without sex left him impossibly tight, in need of a good stretching. He
wiggled around Tyler’s thick, swollen head to loosen himself, anxious
to feel the burn, the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. “Fill me
up. All the way.”

Tyler eased him down, holding his hips in his big, rough hands.

Once sitting heavily on his lap, his dick fully lodged inside him, he
nearly came from the intensity of it all. He leaned back until he his
head rested on Tyler’s shoulder. They kissed as his cowboy jerked
him off. It was heaven. The multiple stimuli had him spiraling out of
control. He needed to come, needed to release all the stress and pent-
up energy he’d been holding on to.

“You take over for me. I need to fuck you now, baby boy.” One

more kiss and he leaned forward, pumping his own shaft in time to
Tyler’s rocking hips. They helped each other, Marcus rising and Tyler
thrusting upwards.

“That feels so good. So good.” He drifted, needed it harder,

rougher, dirtier. Tyler delivered as if sensing his wicked desires,
pounding his ass like a machine. The rocking bench creaked and
rattled, probably close to coming undone. “I’m gonna come, Tyler.

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Oh, God, I’m coming…” He rapidly worked his cock as his orgasm
ripped through his body. Tyler’s animalistic groans behind him
signaled he wasn’t far behind.

“Oh, baby. Fuck!”
Marcus could feel Tyler’s seed spraying inside him, filling and

completing him. He collapsed back against his boyfriend’s chest,
trying to catch his breath. Tyler ran his hands up and down his sides
and over his six-pack abs in a loving caress. They rocked this way,
with Tyler’s flaccid cock still connecting them, for the longest time.

A couple of their chickens scurried across the yard. “What are you

thinking?” Marcus whispered.

“That I could get used to this.” Tyler’s chest rumbled beneath him

as he chuckled.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.” They interlocked

fingers. “This is our home now, cowboy, our new beginning.”

It had been a wild road to reach this point, but he’d do it again in a

minute. Everything in his life had prepared him for this day, so he
could fully appreciate the love, peace, and acceptance. They’d saved
each other, combining their unique attributes to make them both better
people. His road trip to recruit a rising rodeo star had not worked out
as planned. But loving Tyler was so much better.

THE END

WWW.WINONAWILDER.BLOGSPOT.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Winona Wilder enjoys delving into the human mind and exploring

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

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Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 2: Corralling the City Girl

For all other titles, please visit