by Stormy Glenn
Blaecleah Brothers 2
Cowboy Keeper
Billy Thornton is a known troublemaker. He's spent the better part of his life doing whatever his brother Clem wanted him to--from intimidating people to stealing from them. The consequences if he resists are life-threatening. Billy has spent more than one night healing after his brother got pissed at him.
The one thing Billy can't do is allow Rourke Blaecleah to be hurt. Billy has loved Rourke for as long as he can remember, even though he knows it is wrong. The only way he can deal with it is to do everything in his power to keep Clem away from Rourke, and that means putting himself in harm's way more than once.
When Rourke corners Billy one night and kisses him, things come to a head. Rourke realizes that the man he has been looking for all of his life is right under his nose. Billy finds that he might actually be able to experience what loving Rourke is like in real life and not just his fantasies. And both men realize that what they have found together has put their lives in danger because Clem is coming for them, and he's not happy.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Western/Cowboys
Length: 37,669 words
COWBOY KEEPER
Blaecleah Brothers 2
Stormy Glenn
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
COWBOY KEEPER
Copyright © 2011 by Stormy Glenn
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-317-4
First E-book Publication: February 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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COWBOY KEEPER
Blaecleah Brothers 2
STORMY GLENN
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 1
“What are you doing, Billy?”
Billy swung around from where he was watching the wedding reception across the field. Terror filled him when he spotted Rourke Blaecleah standing behind him. As much as he wanted to take in the man’s tall, sexy form, Billy knew his ass was in trouble, big trouble.
“I wasn’t doing anything, swear,” Billy said quickly as he started backing up into the woods. He had been standing just on the edge of the forest behind a large tree. “I just wanted to see. I wasn’t causing any trouble.”
“You’re trespassing, Billy.”
“I’ll leave.” Billy continued to back up, but he wasn’t getting any further away from Rourke. The man took a step forward for every step Billy took back. “I swear I wasn’t causing any trouble, Rourke. I just wanted to see the wedding.”
“You weren’t invited, Billy.”
Billy swallowed. In his mind, Billy knew he’d never be invited to one of the Blaecleah celebrations, but in his heart, he ached to attend them all. The Blaecleah family was known far and wide as being close-knit, each member caring for the others in some way. That connection between them fascinated Billy.
“What do you have there, Billy?”
Billy instantly hid the small faded picture he held in his hand behind his back. His stomach started to roll as Rourke walked closer to him, a peculiar expression on his face that Billy couldn’t quite make out.
Besides the workings of the Blaecleah family, Billy was most intrigued by Rourke. He was the third brother born of five, the middle son so to speak. Billy started having strange feelings for the man about the time he turned sixteen years old.
In the five years since, that fascination hadn’t faded a bit. It had just grown stronger. Rourke dominated every single one of Billy’s fantasies. He’d never met another man or woman that drew him like Rourke did. He sometimes wondered if he ever would.
Rourke suddenly stood in front of him. Billy cringed as Rourke reached for the photo he held behind his back. He squirmed to get away, to keep the picture from Rourke. He would be humiliated if Rourke discovered that he had a picture of him, even as faded and worn as it was.
“Please, it’s mine,” Billy whimpered when Rourke grabbed a hold of it and tugged. “It’s mine!”
Billy wasn’t strong enough to keep Rourke from taking anything from him. The picture was no exception. The man topped him by at least half a foot and a hundred pounds. Rourke was also thick and muscular to Billy’s slim and lanky. Billy didn’t have a chance.
He groaned as Rourke ripped the picture out of his hand. His humiliation started the moment Rourke looked at the picture then arched an eyebrow at him. And something in Rourke’s face told him that it would never end.
Rourke Blaecleah had ammunition to use against him, and the man wasn’t above using it to get what he wanted. “Why do you have a picture of me, Billy?”
Billy shrugged, refusing to meet Rourke’s curious gaze. He knew what he’d see if he did, and Billy didn’t think he could handle it, not right now. Billy knew what sort of reputation he had. He was considered a troublemaker.
And, in a way he was. He learned at a very early age to do whatever his o
lder brother, Clem, told him to do or face the consequences. That meant he had gotten into a lot of fights, broken some laws, and generally made himself into someone he knew Rourke would never take a liking to. None of the Blaecleah family would.
The air in Billy’s lungs got caught somewhere in mid-breath when Rourke suddenly stepped forward and pressed him up against the large tree behind him. Billy could feel the hard bark digging into his skin through his thin shirt. He knew if Rourke pushed, he would have scratches on his back.
Rourke just seemed to lean into him, not pushing too hard but enough that Billy couldn’t get away. Billy turned his head to the side when Rourke leaned down close to him. He swallowed hard when he felt Rourke’s warm breath blow across his cheek.
“I believe I asked you a question, Billy,” Rourke said softly. “Why do you have a picture of me? And don’t lie to me, Billy. I’ll know if you do.”
“I found it,” Billy said quickly. It was the truth. He had found the small picture. Of course, he’d found it inside the glove compartment of Ma Blaecleah’s car, which Clem had ordered him to search for money or anything they could sell.
Billy’s knees had almost buckled when he came across the small photo of Rourke, the main character in all of his dreams. It had been taken just a couple of years earlier on the Blaecleah front porch.
Rourke had been dressed in cowboy boots and tight jeans, his chest bare as he worked on the porch railing. Someone had obviously said something funny because Rourke’s head was tossed back as he laughed. The afternoon sun had been shining, lighting up Rourke’s face. Even if Billy lost the picture, he had looked at it so many times the image was burned into his memories.
“You stole it,” Rourke murmured.
Billy shuddered. Rourke was so close. Billy could smell the man—smell his rich, deep masculine scent, and it was driving him wild. He knew he wasn’t supposed to have these feelings toward a man. They only led to trouble. Billy just couldn’t seem to stop them.
“Now, I wonder why you would steal a picture of me, Billy.”
Billy pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. He knew from experience that keeping quiet was his best course of action. Talking only got him into trouble. If he just kept his mouth shut, Rourke would torture him in whatever fashion he chose then tire of the game and leave him alone.
“You’re not answering me, Billy.”
The moment Billy felt Rourke’s warm tongue rake across the sensitive skin of his throat, he started struggling, the cries in his mouth silent. He kicked out at Rourke until his legs were trapped between two thick thighs. Then he started hitting and scratching.
Billy whimpered when his wrists were caught and held behind his back. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. Rourke only had to use one hand to hold both of his. The other he used to grip Billy’s chin, forcing him to look up. Billy kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t look.
“You like me, don’t you, Billy?”
Billy shuddered when he felt Rourke’s tongue scrape across his skin again.
“Little Billy Thornton has a crush on me.”
Billy whimpered at the low chuckle that rumbled through Rourke’s chest. His humiliation was complete. Rourke Blaecleah now knew how Billy felt. Billy knew from this day forward, Rourke would use this knowledge against him. No matter what Billy did, no matter how much he begged, Rourke now had the ability to destroy him.
“Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?”
Billy squeezed his eyes tighter, hoping the tears he could feel growing there didn’t fall down his cheeks. If he could just hold that part of himself in then he might be able to survive the next few minutes. He wouldn’t let Rourke have that piece of him.
“I don’t have a crush on you,” Billy snapped as he opened up his eyes to glare at Rourke. He tried to put every hateful feeling, every bit of anger and rage inside of him into his eyes. It did no good. Rourke just chuckled.
“Let’s just see about that, shall we?”
Billy’s bravado fled in an instant as Rourke slammed their mouths together. He’d never been kissed before, but he’d imagined it plenty of times. None of those fantasies came anywhere close to how it felt to be kissed by Rourke.
Billy cried out and pushed himself against Rourke. He could feel every thick, sinewy muscle, every dip and curve of Rourke’s body. And all of it felt glorious to Billy. He pulled on his hands until Rourke released them and reached around to grab on to the man’s shirt, pulling himself closer.
Billy felt Rourke’s hands cup his ass, lifting him up until their hard cocks pressed together. He groaned and lifted his legs, wrapping them around Rourke’s waist. The hard bark pressed into his back, scraping against his skin. Billy didn’t care. He was right where he’d fantasized about being for years.
Rourke pushed harder against him, their cocks rubbing together through their jeans. Even that brief contact was enough to make Billy ache and want more. Billy’s head dropped back against the tree when Rourke left his lips and started kissing a line along his jaw to his throat.
Rourke’s teeth clamped down on his throat. Billy stiffened and cried out, saturating the front of his jeans with his unexpected release. He felt so high that nothing could touch him. He only felt Rourke’s breath on his neck, the man’s hands on his skin. Nothing else mattered.
“Fuck, you’re a hot little piece, aren’t you, Billy?” Rourke murmured against Billy’s throat.
Billy’s blood went from raging hot and needy to ice cold in the second it took for Rourke’s words to register in his brain. He almost choked on the cry that he tried to swallow as he pushed at Rourke’s body and dropped his feet to the ground.
Rourke was only playing with him. He didn’t feel the earth move. He didn’t come in his pants. He didn’t feel in that one single moment in time like someone might have loved him for just a moment. For Rourke, it had all been a game in humiliation.
Tears filled his eyes, and this time, he was unable to prevent them from falling down his cheeks. Rourke had taken away the one good thing Billy had in his life and made it cheap and dirty. Billy wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive Rourke.
There must have been something in Billy’s face because Rourke looked confused as his arms dropped away. His eyebrows drew together in a deep frown. “Billy?”
“I hate you.”
“Billy!”
Billy grabbed the photograph out of Rourke’s hand and tore it in two, just as Rourke had done to his heart. Rourke’s mouth snapped shut as if his confusion had just turned to anger, but Billy didn’t care. In that moment, he truly did hate Rourke.
Billy moved around the tree trunk and started backing away. He knew if he could just get far enough away from Rourke, he could run, and that was something Billy knew how to do very well. It was the one time he was glad he was so small. He could run very fast.
“Billy, let’s talk about this,” Rourke said, his hand held out in front of him.
Billy shook his head and continued to back away. There was nothing Rourke could say that would make any of this any better. He’d said everything already. Billy knew exactly what the man thought of him.
“Billy, come on, I didn’t mean it.”
And maybe that’s what saddened Billy the most. Rourke didn’t mean any of it. Rourke had rocked Billy’s world, and it hadn’t meant a damn thing to him. Billy always knew that would be the way it was, but a small part of him had held out hope, until now.
Billy gave Rourke one last long look, knowing that the moment he left this small cove of trees, everything would be over. There would be no going back. He’d be leaving his fantasies behind like a piece of trash on the ground.
Billy’s eyes flickered to the torn photograph lying on the ground behind Rourke. The ache inside his body was almost debilitating in its intensity. Such a small thing, a cheap piece of paper really, and it had been Billy’s whole world. And now it was gone.
Billy looked up at Rourke again, noticing that in his distraction
with the picture, Rourke had moved closer. Billy took another step back then turned and sprinted into the thick trees. He knew despite Rourke’s size and strength that the man had no chance of keeping up with him. Billy had run from bigger and meaner people before. He could easily get away from Rourke.
The last sound he heard before the trees enclosed him was Rourke shouting out his name. Billy almost stumbled as the sound echoed through the forest. He ran faster to get away from the sound of Rourke calling his name as much as to get away from Rourke.
He darted between trees, ducked under low-hanging branches, and jumped over fallen logs. He ran until his legs hurt and his heart pounded in his chest. He ran until he knew he had left Rourke behind.
Finally coming to the far edge of the forest from the Blaecleah ranch, Billy slowed to a walk. He could see the lights of his family’s farm off in the distance and cringed, knowing his brother Clem was home. His folks were most likely in town.
Billy changed his direction from walking toward the house and headed to the small creek that ran down behind the barn. He needed to clean up before he went inside the house. He didn’t know how much Clem had been drinking, but if his brother smelled Rourke on him, he was done for. Clem could be merciless when he wanted to be, and he usually did, but it was worse when Clem was drunk.
Clem also hated every single member of the Blaecleah family with a deep hatred that bordered on obsession. Billy had never understood it, but he had learned not to question it either. That only got him hurt. He’d learned to not even talk to the Blaecleahs.
Billy edged around the side of the barn and walked down to the creek. He squatted down and started cleaning his hands. A splash of water on his face cleared away his tears. Billy just hoped he could get rid of the rest of the evidence so easily.