Wranglers: Book 1 (Part 2) Cowboy lust, hot—dirty, and unstoppable

How far are these wranglers prepared to go to fulfill their rough stock lust?

"What time are you boys leaving in the morning?" My mom sat in the chair across from me at a teal, metal-rimmed Formica kitchen table that had been in our family's farmhouse since long before I was born. It was chipped and stained from decades of use and happy memories.

"Early." Garrett mopped up the last of the mushroom gravy on his plate with his fifth biscuit. "Probably around four."

My mom nodded her head at Garrett as affectionately as if I'd spoken. Garrett spent as much time in and around the farm as I did. Had done so since we first met in high school. My mom had been immediately drawn to him. Taken him under her wing when she found out he came from a dysfunctional alcoholic home. She'd fed him to bursting at least three nights each week.

Now Garrett lived on the property, sharing a workers' cottage with two other guys. My mom considered him family, which made us even more thankful that my dad had kept what he'd seen Garrett and I doing to each other to himself. As far as he was concerned, he'd put a stop to it.

If Garrett hadn't been one of the best beef cattle farmers my dad had ever worked with, he would've been out of a job. Me—my dad had kept an invasive eye on me as I'd gone about my day breeding and training stock horses for our ten-thousand-acre farm, plus quite a few others in our home state. A side business of mine that was thriving.

I looked over at Garrett. He had gravy running down his chin. It made me smile. I almost leaned over to remove the greasy mess with my thumb and suck it from my skin.

It would take a lot more than my dad's disapproval to make us stop. We were a couple of wranglers in the middle of cattle country who did not intend to fall in line with what that meant in his mind. Or what that meant in anyone else's mind in the heartland township we lived in.

"I still need to pack." I caught Garrett's eye and pointed to his chin. Instead of using one of the cloth napkins my mother insisted on having at each place setting during meals, Garrett scrubbed the heel of his hand across his chin, only managing to smear the gravy.

I would've loved his permission to clean away what he'd left on his chin with my tongue once we were out of sight, but that would've placed my mouth too close to his.

And that would've been out of the question.

No kissing. That was the unspoken rule.

Fucking was fucking.

Kissing meant something else entirely.

The screen door leading into the kitchen screeched and slammed, and a shadow fell across the table. I turned in my chair. It was my dad. He'd missed lunch, which was unusual, and you could tell by the look on his face, he wasn't pleased.

"I need you boys to mend a piece of fence along the southern perimeter of the range. About two miles out near the dense grove of pine." He scrubbed a slow hand across his face. "I spent the last hour and a half rounding up four of our heifers."

Garrett stood, knocking his chair backward in his haste. "Why didn't you call me?"

My dad dismissed him, waving his hand in the air. "No time. I didn't see you around, so Dan and I took a couple of the horses out ourselves."

I looked over at Garrett. He was scowling. He took his job around the farm seriously. He'd spent four years in college earning his bachelor's degree in animal science. I had as well, but I was using mine for my side venture with the horses.

I could see he was beating himself up for not being available. My dad would've been looking for him right around the time he had my cock in his mouth.

"We'll head right out." I grabbed my tattered cowboy hat from the sideboard and was out the door before my dad added to the list of chores we had to finish before dark. We still had to sort through what was in the RV end of the horse trailer. We'd hauled the bedding and towels out to be washed last time we'd used it, but more than likely, we'd forgotten to empty the fridge.

Garrett jogged up alongside me. "Dirk, we've got to stop doing that …fucking around when we're supposed to be working."

I stopped and stared at him. "Fixing that fence shouldn't take long." I walked into the storage building near the cowshed and passed Garrett a spool of barbed wire and a few tools. "Then what work are we supposed to be doing? Because I can't think of anything …"

He peered over at me, his brow furrowing as he tossed everything into the cargo box of the Gator utility vehicle. It really wouldn't take long. I'd been out that way two days ago. Three of the posts had been loose. Holding but loose. It had been sheer luck that the heifers had found the weakness in the fence before I'd got around to fixing it.

Garrett smirked. "Fine …I've always wanted to see you bent over the hood of this thing anyway," he patted the XUV, "…your ass splayed wide open in the daylight in the fields."

I grunted in amusement and slid into the driver's seat. I knew Garrett couldn't resist an opportunity to fuck me somewhere new. Responsibilities or not, we always found the time, and Garrett sounded legitimately enthusiastic despite his reservations.

My cock twitched, swelling at the thought of Garrett exposing my ass—fucking it where anyone might see us. It was risky, but there was no turning back. Not following through would be excruciating for both of us. Once we set our sights on something—or someone. That was it.