Gay Cowboy Books Novels & Stories

I was hoping you'd say that. That weekend on the Saturday we went to a couple nice restaurants, and hit a couple lounges. He'd bought some clothes that didn't say ranching cowboy and more like hunky GQ and we went out on the town a bit. No gay vibe. Straight clubs. We still checked out women but we knew when we got home it was man on man.

My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I can’t ignore. One gray afternoon, it was pouring rain outside. The library was dead empty. No one to bother me. I locked the front door early and turned the sign to closed. My hands were sweaty as I picked out my four favorite books from the back shelf. There was the pirate story with Captain Thorne, a tough guy who sails the seas and takes what he wants. Then the vampire book with Lord Draven, all dark and mysterious, with eyes that pull you in. Next, the cowboy tale with Buck, rough and ready from the wild west. And finally, the barbarian adventure with Garrick, a big brute who fights with his hands and conquers everything. E

GABE Gabe Walker swung his big pickup into an empty spot on the main road of Rocky Springs, his stomach twisting over what he had to do. He stepped out and shook his head slowly as he set his black Stetson on his head. People joked he was the billionaire cowboy, and he didn’t mind. He had grown up in Texas, born rich from his father’s oil fortune. Like Brian, his dad also had a cattle ranch. Gabe guessed he was as much a cowboy as anyone, maybe even more than Brian, who was called the cowboy senator because of his ranch. He paused at the door and read the neat writing on the pristine window of the business:

He'd shut them down with a glare and returned to the ranch house which was quiet as a tomb. He hadn't intended to drink what was left in the half-full bottle of Jim Beam. Or had it been half-empty? That was a damn stupid argument, if you asked him. Any way you sliced it, he'd drained that bottle dry, all the while replaying the last week in his mind. What in the hell had possessed him to imagine that a city lawyer could come out to west butt-crack Idaho and fall in love with a cowboy like himself? Or better yet, that he could fall in love with her?

I looked at Wyatt, who was appraising me with narrowed eyes. “What? She forgets I can smell her all over the books and I know what ones are naughty, because well ya know,” I leaned over and tossed him a book from the pile. I had started reading the backs of things so I purposely incorporated a little spice in her life. He looked at the title, then skimmed the back of the book, it was some mafia romance. His brows raised, I shrugged.

I'm fine. Rowen: Fine but be careful. I'll be waiting for you when you get home. Me: I know you will. I love you, babe. Don't forget to tell the trainers to massage that right calf of yours. You don't want it cramping up again. Especially while you're tapping this ass. Rowen: Yes, ma'am! P.S. I love it when you're bossy. Love you. Me: ;) Love you too. I scroll through more sports stories, getting my brain ready for work. The final score of last night's Cowboys game reminds me to check the Hart to Heart website.

I love all different kinds of music, so there’s a little something for everyone. 3. I write all different kinds of books. If you’re interested, you can find my other books on these platforms: a. GoodNovel: Trio of Mates Series: 4 werewolf books that take on the idea of what would happen if one of the leadership was gay and couldn’t produce an heir. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed)

VOLUME SIX: A COWBOY AND HIS SWEET SPOT Carter's ass bounced on the hard seat of his banged-up pickup truck as he drove across the state line into Wyoming. Man, he was tired, and his butt hurt. Riding fourteen hours on the back of a horse was much more comfortable than six on the worn-out seat in the truck.