“That’s fucking amazing.” I drank a few mouthfuls of coffee to get the dry granola all the way down. “Much
action out here on the range?”

He chuckled softly. “A lot more than you’d think. The Bar RC employs thirty-seven people. Nine of the hands
are gay.”

“Seriously? I really don’t have adequate gaydar and that proves it.” I finished the coffee he’d shared and
handed the cap back to him. He screwed it on the thermos and set the jug aside.

“I’ve had a little fun along the way but most of the guys avoid me because I’m the boss’s son. Same thing
you’re doing, Regan, and you don’t have to.”

“If I thought that were true, we’d see how we do together right now.”


I took a deep breath. I would burn in my own hell for doing this but I had to have one little taste of him.
Wythe was sitting cross-legged while I was propped up on an elbow. I reached up and grabbed his shoulder.
He didn’t resist as he toppled to the grass beside me. I seized the advantage while he was off balance and
body-pinned him to the ground beneath me. His gorgeous blue eyes went wide and wild. I ran my thumb
over his lower lip. The part of me that acted as a conscience was mute. I wanted him. I ached with it but all I
could risk was one kiss.

“Never call me a liar, boy.”

I lowered my mouth to his. Heat shot through me at the first touch of his soft lips quickly followed by
overwhelming surprise. My cock hardened in a few wonderful, throbbing heartbeats. I jerked away and
stared at him. He licked his wine-colored lips as his intense gaze held me.


I narrowed my eyes at him and remembered to inhale. “Never call me a coward, boy.”

“And never call me a ‘boy’ again.”

He cupped the back of my head and pulled me down to him. I opened my lips and his warm, silky tongue slid
over mine. Little stars sparkled in my dark vision while images of him naked danced in my mind. The mingled
scents of warm, overheated male layered with horse, expensive leather, and crushed green grass filled my
lungs. Hot and skilled, his hands were on me, stripping my shirt over my head. I yanked his shirt out of his
jeans and worked it off him. Bare chest to bare chest we rolled. Wythe rose above me. I took a deep breath
and pointed.

“You can take your hat off.”

He shook his head and I saw the sudden hesitation in him.

“I’m sorry, Regan. I thought…I’m not leading you on. I swear. I mean, don’t over think this but maybe I need
to slow down.”

Him and me both.

“I’m not some young buck, Wythe. I don’t have the wrong impression about anything here.”

It was the utter truth. That kiss hit me right in the gut. I’d be a fool to pursue Wythe Carver but it was too late.

The only way to walk away from him was to leave the Bar RC.

And he needed to slow down? Of course he did. Wythe felt it too but he didn’t know what to do about it.
Luckily, I did. I held my hands up to him and he laced his fingers through mine.

“Slow is good, Wythe. Okay, so we’re two guys with a bad case of curiosity about each other. We have to
work together on a daily basis. It wouldn’t be good for us to get all tangled up in our heads over sex.”

I eased him forward and he came willingly to rest on my chest. I was certain the birds were chirping and the
brook babbling but all I heard was his breathing and the thumping beat of my heart as he touched his lips to
my neck…
About this book in
its series ...

Ride Your Luck is a
stand-alone story
and not part of any
Return to KC's bookshelf
This website is intended for use by consenting adults and mature readers only.
It is not intended for any unmarried individual under the age of 18.
Subject matter deals with the consensual sexual practices of adults in the forms of
romance novels, gay fiction and gay literature including gay males, gay love, and gay sex.
Copyright KC Kendricks   All Rights Reserved.
This site is best viewed at 1024 x 768 using IE 6 or higher, and is formatted for wider monitors.
To change the background and text colors in IE and Firefox, click
Ride Your Luck
Regan Oakley’s luck ran out. After a stint in rehab, he’s putting his life
back together without the booze. What he thinks is an old friend’s
charity is really a plea for help. There’s trouble at the Bar RC Ranch
and the friend’s son is in the middle of it. Regan takes one look at
Wythe Carver and knows that young man isn’t the only one with his
world turned upside down.

Wythe Carver’s life took a strange turn. Suspected of murdering the
ranch foreman, he’s hanging on, one day at a time. The person who
could alibi him has disappeared and Wythe can’t find him. To make
matters worse, his prize stallion is loose on the range. Complicating
his life even more, his father called an old friend to come help out at
the ranch. One look at Regan Oakley is all Wythe needs to know it’s
going to get hot at night.  

Regan sets out to find the truth of what happened that night at the
Bar RC. He’s sure Wythe is innocent, and he’s just as sure he has no
business getting involved with the boss’s son. With no solid proof to
clear Wythe, Regan needs to ride his luck to get to the truth and keep
Wythe by his side.

I hustled a glowering Wythe out the door. The moment it closed behind us he shook me off.

“I’ll do what the hell I want to do about my horse.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You need to learn when to smile, nod, and do what you want to do anyway.”

“Is that what you do, hot shot?”

“When necessary, and it was back there in the kitchen. Now what other tricks does Shorty know?”

Wythe smiled broadly and slowly shook his head.

“Fucking smartass.” I grinned back at him.

We stepped into the dimly lit barn, bumping shoulders and telling each other to fuck-off back and forth. I
stopped at Shorty’s stall and made a kissing noise at the dozing beast.

Wythe froze and the sudden look of yearning on his face brought me up short. I glanced around. We
appeared to be alone. I kept my voice low.

“Don’t look at me like that, cowboy. You’re my employer’s son.”

He swallowed, the muscles in his neck moving tightly. He licked his lips and my mouth went dry.

“They told me about you, Regan. And they told me you were particular about who you fucked and not to make
a run at you because it would put you in an awkward spot since I
am John’s son. But you do want me. I felt it
back on the patio.”