Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 4 purr heat index...
Bryan likes older men and loves cowboys. He decides to dress the part to get one. He succeeds only to find that his cowboy wants the real thing too. Will his deceit cost him the perfect man for him?
I am a huge BG Thomas fan and I love cowboys. This story didn't let me down. It was short but also fun as in all B G books and also sweet and sexy. To be so short I felt we really got into both characters and the plot is obvious. Both men looking for that perfect partner. I adored the use of the title in the book as well.
If you like short stories, cowboys, and some hot man-sex you will love this book.
BRYAN MILLS stood in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of his closet and posed. His bedroom was dark, save for a muted bedside table lamp, in an attempt to mimic the lighting of The Watering Hole, his favorite bar. He shifted from one foot to the other, practicing. He wanted to look just right, and he thought he’d finally managed it.
The shirt was perfect: not boring, not too bold. “Slightly worn” was the way the guy at the secondhand shop had described it (which sounded so much better than “used”). Bryan thought the jeans were a work of art. He’d spent days washing them, sandpapering the denim in all the right places, especially between the thighs, over the crotch, and across the ass. He wanted them to have that horse-ridden look. He turned and looked over his shoulder at his butt and thought, Yes, not bad at all.
“I’d fuck it,” he said aloud. “If I was a top.” He grinned.
Bryan spun back around on his heels and lowered his head so that the brim of his hat—a gray Stetson—all but hid his blue eyes, showing little more than his five-o’clock-shadowed jaw. Fetching, if he did say so himself.
He hooked his thumbs in his foremost belt loops, letting his fingers frame both his silver belt buckle—nice but not too over-the-top—and the mound of his crotch. No underwear. He was a grower, not a shower, and underwear mashed his cock and balls almost flat. Anyone who saw him only from the belt down might not even know he was male if he didn’t go commando. At least this way his package looked promising, even if it didn’t look huge.
And the boots? Perfect. Scuffed but not sloppy or overworn.
Hadn’t cowboy boots been the real start of this whole more authentic costume? His “cowboy drag,” as his roommate Tommy—the drag queen “Dixie Wrecked”—liked to say?
The first time Bryan had headed out to The Watering Hole trying to look like the real thing, he’d been proudly wearing a pair of five-hundred-dollar snakeskin cowboy boots. He’d no sooner walked in the door, Loretta Lynn crooning about a cabin on a hill in Butcher Holler from a jukebox, when he’d spotted a pair of men who’d made him hard in less than a minute.
They were hot, and both looked like the real thing to Bryan. One was at least forty for sure, and he guessed the other to be a well-preserved fifty, easily old enough to be his father. Hot enough to make his erection get wet. He moseyed his way over to them, wondering whether they were friends or lovers, trying to decide which man was hotter. Both had facial hair—one a thick mustache like Sam Elliott, the other a goatee. Both were darkly tanned, obviously men who worked outdoors, with deep lines carved around their eyes. Bryan couldn’t help but imagine them on horseback, squinting into the sun.
They were each drinking a pitcher of beer, apparently spurning a glass—
(Even a dirty one, Bryan thought, and grinned at his own joke)
—and both were smiling. And oh, how very pleased he was when he saw the pair were eyeing a small group of men his own age.
Score! They like younger men! And then he quietly edged closer to the stuff of his dreams, hoping to catch their eyes.