Rodeo Boys (Part 6 - Final)

Roots Run Deep

After finally buying their own one-hundred-and-twenty-acre homestead, Dirk and Garrett should be living the dream—private land, a solid barn, and the freedom to build a future together. But old habits die hard. Even as they settle into their new home, they’re still chasing the thrill of other men… until one night the thrill turns into something that just hurts.

What follows is raw, honest, and long overdue: giving up the game, claiming each other completely, and learning how to be two rodeo boys who are finally ready to settle down. Family may turn their backs, but on their own land—under wide-open skies and between their own sheets—Dirk and Garrett discover that the hottest ride they’ll ever take is the one that lasts forever.

Steamy, emotional, and unapologetically filthy, Homestead is the heartfelt conclusion to Dirk and Garrett’s journey from wild rodeo nights to building a life—and a home—together.

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In the last installment of Rodeo Boys

Rodeo Boys (Part 5)

In the first installment of Rodeo Boys

Rodeo Boys (Part 1)

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As long as the grass grows and the water flows—a cowboy saying. That’s where I saw Garrett and me. Our love had put down deep, strong roots that made the foliage unshakeable.

I kept reminding myself of that as we stood in the local country bar, perusing the potential men. Garrett leaned back, his elbow on the scarred bar, and took a long swallow of his beer.

I watched his throat as the cool amber liquid descended. Almost made me hard, thinking about the taste of his skin, still a memory on my tongue from earlier.

I’d fucked him long and hard before we showered for our night out. A reminder of who he belonged to, regardless of the many men who circulated through our bed.

My beer tasted warm and flat as I drained the bottle. Garrett had his eye on someone. A tall, gorgeous stranger. The guy was built solid, wearing a black Stetson and a tight shirt that showed off his chest, and he kept peering over at us. Lifting his gaze for a moment every few sentences as he rambled on to a couple of guys we knew from around town.

When his friends dispersed, leaving him alone, the stranger tipped his hat to us. Garrett took it as the signal it probably was. I trailed behind as we crossed the bar to join him.

“You visiting?” Garrett asked, sticking out his hand.

The stranger grabbed Garrett’s hand and didn’t let go quickly; their palms pressed together a little too comfortably. The man jerked his head in the direction of the friends he had been with. “My cousin, Carl, dragged me out.” Then reached for my hand and shook it. “Name’s Boone.”

I nodded. Let Garrett do the talking. This was his fantasy tonight.

“I’m Garrett, and this here ….” He hitched his thumb at me. “My buddy, Dirk.”

Boone raised his eyebrows. “I was told you were more than buddies.”

I didn’t want to get into that discussion with a stranger. I left Garrett to it and headed to the restroom instead. Word was out about Garrett and me. Some days, I felt like a zoo animal, folks staring at me, their mouths agape, as they tried to determine what was different about me.

Wondering if they could detect that I was gay.

Because I was. Gay. There was no denying my sexuality now that I’d stopped kidding myself. I had no interest in women. Neither did Garrett. After a particular late-night conversation, we used the word aloud for the first time. Two proud gay men had been revealed.

I finished up at the urinal and washed my hands. The guy staring back at me in the mirror looked worn out. Still hot. Still sexy ... but tired. A few years too long on the rodeo circuit.

Except that rodeo circuit was my life now. Not an actual rodeo—just my day-to-day. Waking up with Garrett snuggled up next to me, his rough voice soft in the morning, and his kisses tender.

Starting our day buried inside each other as the world woke up around us. The words “I love you” shared before we even got out of bed.

Those were the good rides, the ones that still made my heart race.

But every rodeo has its losses, too. Garrett working cattle on someone else’s ranch instead of training horses with me. The clients I’d lost when we came out as a couple.

The mortgage we could barely keep up with because my dad wouldn’t buy back the family homestead, and I couldn’t bring myself to evict my own parents.

And lately, even the nights we spent cruising bars for other men—something that used to get my blood up—had started to feel like another exhausting round in the arena. The thrill was gone. Now it just left me sore and hollow, wondering how much longer I could keep climbing back on.

Life wasn’t ideal, and it was wearing me down.

When I went back into the main bar area, Garrett was leaning in close to Boone. They were talking low and laughing; Garrett’s hand occasionally knocking up against Boone’s hip.

We wouldn’t be bringing Boone home tonight. The objective was to get a hot guy’s number and promise him a future hookup. One on the sly when I was out tending to my business.

The story was that our relationship was on the rocks, and Garrett was lonely. I was giving him nothing. Might even be cheating on him. Made me sound like an asshole.

Which gave Boone a hopefully guiltless in.

I didn’t like the game, but it was Garrett’s to play out.

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Just over a week later, I came back to the house after a long day in the arena with a temperamental horse and was met by the unmistakable sound of Garrett being fucked.

My heart twisted. I came back to the house at the same time every day. This was the setup Garrett had been driving toward. Now, I was supposed to walk in on them—catch them in the act.

I walked toward our bedroom, following the sounds of two men fucking hard. The door was ajar, and the first thing that hit me was the thick smell of sweat, ass, and that same damn cologne Boone had been wearing at the bar. It had irritated me then. Now it pissed me off.

Boone was gripping Garrett’s hips where they were positioned on the bed and pounding the hell out of him. They both looked up when I entered the room.

The interloper pulled his dick out of Garrett’s ass, a look of guilty horror on his face. I walked over to our chair in the corner of the room and sat down. “Don’t let me stop you.”

To his credit, Boone caught on quick and slid back into Garrett’s beautiful, furry, and thick ass. My man had put on a bit of extra weight since I discovered a love for baking.

His body was perfect.

My cock betrayed my mood by hardening as I watched Garrett’s hole being thrashed by another man. They were both grunting, sweating, and swearing, stirring up my desire to join them.

But that wasn’t the fantasy Garrett needed from me.

I was to sit still and watch. Not even touch my cock. I must have looked miserable because I was caught off guard when Garrett shoved Boone away from him, scurried to the edge of the bed, dropped off, and crawled to me, his expression so distraught that tears formed in my eyes.

“What’s going on, Dirk?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Go back to him.”

Garrett scowled. “Absolutely not.” He looked over his shoulder at Boone. “Get out.” We stayed quiet as Boone grumbled and swore, picked up his clothes, and left the bedroom.

The front door slammed three seconds later.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said. “Chase him off.”

Garrett cradled my face in his palm, staring into my eyes. “Are you kidding me?” Tears ran down my cheeks, and he brushed them away. “That fuck was supposed to be for both of us.”

How did I tell him it wasn’t doing it for me anymore? The cruising, the fucking, the working our way through every willing guy we came across. Garrett’s ass being thrashed repeatedly.

He rose to his knees and placed his forehead on mine. “You’re first in my world.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Tell me what happened back there.”

He loved me. I could speak the truth to him. “It hurt. Watching you with another man hurt.”

Garrett’s breath cascaded over my lips. “Is that new?”

“No.” I reached for his arms and grabbed them, his elbows nearly in my palms. I clung to him as if I might lose him if I spoke the truth. Even though I knew that would never happen, my turbulent mind was making space for devastation.

“It still turns me on, but I don’t get the same rush I used to.”

“Jealousy?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Not quite. Just the feeling I wish we were alone.”

“Do you want us to stop?” This time, his voice was barely above a whisper. I couldn’t read his emotions other than the way he was holding my face. Gentle and loving.

Garrett kept his hands where they were, eyes locked on mine like he was trying to read every thought I’d buried deep. I could still smell Boone on his skin, that wrong cologne mixed with sweat and the sharp scent of sex hanging in the air between us.

My gut twisted again, but this time the words came easier.

“Yeah.” My voice was rough. “I want us to stop. All of it. I don’t want any more strangers in our bed. I thought I could keep sharing you now that we’re a couple, but it’s eating at me. Every time we cruise someone new, it hurts worse than the last.” I shook my head. “I can’t do it anymore.”

He stayed quiet for a long second, forehead still pressed to mine, breath warm against my lips. Then he nodded once, slow and sure, like he’d been waiting for me to finally say it.

“Alright then,” he whispered. “It stops. Tonight. No more games. Just you and me, like it was in the beginning.” He stroked my face. “As long as the grass grows and the water flows.”

I smiled. I’d been carrying that sentiment with me, building my courage to do the one thing that, a year ago, I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me it would happen.

I nudged Garrett backward so I could get on my knees, facing him. It was only two words, but they carried so much weight that my tongue hesitated while my mind sped ahead.

“Marry me.”