Jaded Temptations / Hot Shorts

His Cowboy Roundup

Donny’s been keeping a secret. He’s had some new and alarmingly hot urges involving the five hot cowboys working with him out on a cattle drive. When the boss decides it’s time to round up this shy cowboy, however, he’ll find out that his desires are quite mutual—and shared by them all.

Genre: Western/Cowboy/Multiple Partner Erotica

Length: Around 5,481 words

Copyright © 2011 by J. Rose Allister Smashwords Edition

First eBook Publication: October 2011

Cover design by J. Rose Allister

All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by J. Rose Allister

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: You do not have the right to distribute or resell this book without the prior written permission of the author. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred.

HIS COWBOY ROUNDUP
J. ROSE ALLISTER
Jaded Temptations/Hot Shorts

Donny rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the twitch in his cock when he saw who was coming. Jarvis was headed his way, his stereotypical cowboy swagger outdone only by the smartass tilt to his battered old Stetson. He straightened up from examining his horse’s front fetlock, unable to stop himself from checking out the nice bulge in the guy’s dusty jeans. A weird tingle shot through him when he met the man’s liquid brown eyes.

“You still rubbin’ down that mare?” Jarvis said, pausing to spit in the dirt before pointing to the rapidly darkening sky. Stars were popping out, one by one. “Jesus, boy, I swear you’re slower than a preacher’s sermon durin’ a hangover. Like you gotta thing for bringin’ up a rear.”

The last phrase summoned an image Donny worked to shake off. “Just tryin’ to be thorough,” he said, giving the brown mare a firm pat on the neck. “Seemed like she was favoring her right leg our way back.”

Jarvis was eying him intently, the way he had been the past two nights out on the trail. Sure, Donny was greener than green when it came to ranch work, and Jarvis had taken him under his wing. But the way his narrow, piercing gaze measured him from beneath the brim of that hat made Donny feel as if the man was digging secrets right out of his brain. Secrets he would rather weren’t kicked out from under the rock he kept them safely hidden beneath.

The man frowned. “Think she took lame?” Without awaiting a reply, he sauntered up to where the horses were tied up to check the leg.

Donny caught the scent of trail dust and male sweat as the man bent over right in front of him, so close that his narrow ass brushed against Donny’s crotch. Donny swallowed hard and stepped back. His reactions to men since going out on the trail were no better than the thought of riding a lame mare. No better at all.

Jarvis ran a hand along the animal’s leg, prodding near the joints. “Ain’t no heat in it. We’ll watch her tomorrow.”

He stood up again, invading Donny’s space—and his senses. Jarvis licked weather-dried lips, and Donny’s eyes automatically flew to watch the man’s tongue flick out. He averted his gaze, hoping Jarvis hadn’t noticed.

The man’s eyes narrowed farther into slits, and his head cocked. “But then, we got ourselves a bigger problem at the moment than yer horse.”

“We do?”

“Yup.” Jarvis fisted his slender hips as he eyed him up and down. “How come you been avoidin’ me and the boys come nightfall?”

Donny’s eyes shifted away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I expect you do. Think yer too good to hang around a campfire with a bunch of cowhands?”

“No. I’ve just been busy at night, getting ready for the next day.”

The man clucked. “Maybe yer just shy.”

What the hell was Donny supposed to say? That some bizarre temptations involving Jarvis’s team of Marlboro Men had emerged on the trail? That he figured it was best to avoid close proximity and beat off in private when he got horny and lonely after dark? Yeah, his macho man mentor sure as hell wouldn’t want to hear about that.

He was starting to argue the point when Jarvis sucked in his lower lip and let out a shrill whistle. “Okay!” he shouted. “Time to round him up, boys.”

Out of nowhere, tight denims and checkered shirts emerged from the shadows. Every one of his new fellow cowhands wore glittering, mischievous expressions that put Donny on instant high alert. Worse, John Doe was lazily twirling a suspicious hank of rope.

“What the hell’s this?” Donny asked, taking a step back.

“You ain’t been actin’ all that hospitable,” Marco said, still advancing. His curly, white-blond hair stood out against the darkening sky. “We all decided it’s time you hop off that high horse.”

“Yeah,” said Antoine, a dark, olive-skinned god that had featured in a few of Donny’s recent and disturbing ass-fucking fantasies. “Time you start rubbin’ elbows with the gang, cowpoke.”

Someone muttered a comment about elbows that Donny couldn’t make out. He was still backing away, but shuffling sounds told him it was useless. More guys were behind him. His heart pounded as he glanced wildly back and forth between the jeering, pointed stares. The cowboys were up to no good, that much was clear. He’d bet his new salary there was some kind of painful, humiliating cowboy hazing ritual no one had warned him about. Fuck.

That thought struck right at the core of his fight or flight, and he took off. He bolted away from the horses, straight for a gap between two of the men.

“He’s runnin’!” one of them shouted. Bobby Ray, he thought. “Ain’t that cute?”

Donny was making good headway, or so he thought until the sounds of boot heels scuffling behind him grew closer. His shirt was grabbed at once, twice, and then a heavy weight slammed him to the ground.

“Shit!” he said, just as a pile of cowboys landed on him. “What the fuck? Jarvis!” he shouted out. “Get these asswipes off me.”

Jesus. Hot, male bodies lying on him, holding him down. He could barely breathe, and not just because of their weight and his attempts to struggle for freedom. He tried bucking his hips to shove them off, but all he succeeded in doing was rubbing his crotch against hard muscle. He felt the damn stirring in his pants and knew he was getting a hard-on. Don’t let them notice, he thought when Marco and Bobby Ray rolled off him to hold his legs down. Antoine and Jarvis had his arms pinned. He tried to yank free, but four against one was too much to ask. Four against his body had been too much to ask of his cock, too. He didn’t have to glance down to know it was ridged long and hard down the thigh of his tight jeans. Apparently, his dick didn’t give a damn that the rest of him was about to get tarred and feathered or whatever these bastards had planned. All his cock cared about was rock-hard, sweaty man flesh.

His heart, already pounding against his sternum, double-timed when Antoine leaned down over his face. Sexy, almond-shaped eyes glittered with victory. “Looks like we got ourselves a wild one,” he said, and Donny’s throbbing pulse skipped at Antoine’s wink. “Better tie him up.”

“What?” Donny said. “No!”

John Doe chuckled as he stood near Donny’s head. “Haul ’em up and let’s git it done.”

“What the fuck’s wrong with you guys?” Donny shouted as he was dragged upright. “I’ve done nothing but mind my own damn business. Is that a crime?”