Thrown to the Wolves: 8 Steamy Stories of Rough Gay Shifter BDSM by Mike Ox

Author:Mike Ox [Ox, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-10-21T20:57:32+00:00

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Taken by Surprise

The man walks into the bar like a fugitive, his hat slung low over his eyes. Somehow, he has the audacity to sit right next to me.

The bartender wipes a glass with a soiled rag. “What’ll it be?”

“Shot of whiskey, please.”

“What kind of whiskey?”

“Any kind.”

The bartender scowls, muttering something about city folk.

“What’s your name, pardner?” I ask.

The man jumps. “Oh. Me?”

“Never heard that one before.”

He laughs nervously. “The name’s James. Yours?”

I take a swig of Horned Toad. “Luke.”

James looks me up and down, his eyes lingering far too long.

I hide a grin. Men like him are rare around these parts. I can’t believe my luck that he’s just fallen into my lap. If he wants to knock boots, I’m happy to oblige. All he has to do is give the right signals when I make my move.

“What brings you here, James?”

“I’m trying to set up a dude ranch, so tourists can come out and vacation.” He sighs.

“Not going well?”

“Not really. I guess I should have learned something about being a cattle jockey before I sunk all my money into it.”

The bartender sets a shot down in front of James, his expression disdainful.

James looks over his shoulder toward the door.

“Expecting someone?”

“No.” He twirls the glass on the bar. His neck twitches slightly, like he’s trying to resist the urge to look again. Is he on the run from the law? An ex-wife? Who cares? He’s lithe and lean, his muscles hard under his shirt. He may not be a country boy, but he’s certainly hit the gym. And he’s not bad to look at either. His dark eyes have flecks of yellow in them. They’re hypnotizing. If my momma hadn’t taught me so well, I’d be staring right back at him.

“You know, maybe I could be of assistance. I’m a cattleman. I could come to your ranch one day, show you the ropes.”

“Could you really?” He nearly sags with relief.

I can picture it now. Roping cows in the summer is bound to make a man sweat. We might even need to take off our shirts. And we’ll be far from any prying eyes.

“Sure.” I lean toward him. “Just let me know where your ranch is.” I reach over casually. It’s the perfect move. I’ll set my hand on his, we’ll both startle. I’ll apologize, and his reaction will tell me everything I need to know.

“Luke!” The roar rings through the empty bar.

I cringe as the doors swing shut. I’ve kept my taste for men a secret all these years. Now I’ve been caught trying to hold another man’s hand.

Boots clunk over the floorboards. I will myself to turn around. Of course, it’s not one of my friends, but all three. Zeke’s in the lead, barely noticing when he knocks over a chair. He shouts at me again.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I glance nervously at James. He’s gone. His shot sits at the bar, untouched, the only evidence he was ever there.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Zeke whips my stool around.

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