Sing For Your Supper
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by Jaime Samms
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: Hunger can drive a man to do just about anything in order to satisfy it, but when it's hunger of the heart, will past relationships keep three men wanting more? Taylor has left home, chased out by his family because he's gay, and pursued across the prairies by the man who violently assaulted him in his own home. Now he's homeless, friendless and using his charm and skills learned on his knees before his father's farm hands to pay for his meals. Matt sees something more than a desperate whore in the young rancher who comes to his diner in hopes a quick blow job will buy him a meal. He sees past Taylor's current circumstances to a man who just needs a clean break. Matt sends Taylor off to his friend Jim's ranch hoping the older man will see the same things in Taylor and give him the opportunity to start over. No one expects the visceral attraction between the rancher and his new hire. When Taylor's past catches up to him, and he realises he's put both men in jeopardy just for trying to help him, he thinks maybe he deserves to be branded the fool he is.
eBook Publisher: Total-e-bound, 2011
eBookwise Release Date: November 2011
4 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [110 KB]
Reading time: 63-89 min.
"I was pleased with the unconventional storyline...I really did enjoy this book...I will recommend this to anyone who loves complex men, complicated relationships, hot sex and an unconventional ending." Good Book Reviews
According to my map, there should have been a town here. I'd passed a closed gas station five minutes back, and a general store with a curling, paper "out to lunch" sign taped to the window. The crumbling, yellowed tape holding it in place looked like it hadn't been taken down in months. The doors had been locked up tight.
I glanced at my gas gauge and felt the tension in the back of my neck crawl up towards that spot behind my left eye. I made a point of rolling my shoulders over in a useless attempt to ease the stress. The old Jeep I was driving wasn't exactly a stellar gas saver, and the needle edged towards the big red 'E' awfully fast. I didn't have to look in my wallet to know filling the tank was going to be problematic.
"Where the hell is 'Redcliff'?" I glanced again at the map lying on the seat beside me. There was a tiny black dot about the point on the map I was driving through, but the gas station and store seemed to have been plunked down in the middle of nowhere, like tornado casualties deposited on the side of the road.
I rubbed a hand through my hair, trying to ignore the tightening in my gut. The gas tank wasn't the only tank needing refilling. I was going to have to find a place to stop soon then make the decision--feed myself or fill the tank. I wasn't going to be able to do both.
And it was Pete's fault. Bastard. He was supposed to be my brother, was supposed to look out for me, not be the one holding me down...
Don't. Don't remember.
I still fell asleep with that image of the red-hot metal coming at me, Pete's hands vice-like around my upper arms, Luke Driscoll's leering face. I couldn't remember what they'd been babbling about. The branding iron seeking my flesh, and the nasty taste of Luke's spunk still in my mouth, had been about all I could focus on at the time.
Just the memory made my hands shake. Sweat trickled down my back and under the waist band of my jeans. Luke had been the one to lure me into that trap, swaying his tight ass and offering...
The highway blurred before me. It took a minute to clear my vision enough to reveal I was on the wrong side of the tarmac. I eased back to my own side of the road.
The guy had been my friend. Or so I'd thought. He'd certainly acted the part for months, and had no compunction about shoving his dick down my throat. In fact, he'd acted like it was us against the narrow-minded idiots I called family. But no. None of it had meant anything. He'd been bait. Willing bait, eager to take any opportunity I'd offer to get off, but bait, just the same.
I yanked on the wheel, veering off the highway onto the shoulder. Six months, and I couldn't get the asshole's betrayal out of my head. Couldn't think past it.
Clouds of dust billowed past me on a warm breeze. The highway stretched out, straight and empty in both directions. I'd learned days ago that emptiness was an illusion in this heat. The shimmering waves of air above the pavement concealed oncoming cars pretty effectively. I sat for another minute, staring off into the desert of wheat fields, but I couldn't sit there long. I had to get my ass somewhere, or who the hell knew how far I'd have to walk with empty pockets and an empty gas can.