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The Retreat, a Roughstock story
by B. A. Tortuga
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: When Coke finally gets to invite his lover Dillon to the annual bullfighter retreat, all manner of mischief is on the menu along with the barbecue. The guys have three days before all their families show up. Can they get enough team-building done in seventy-two hours?
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Sips, 2012 www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: May 2012
 
7 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [21 KB]
Words: 3479
Reading time: 9-13 min.
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
The house was huge -- making his place look like a hovel. The place had to have five bedrooms, plus a mother in law suite. He and Coke were taking that. They had no kids and they had the dogs, and the suite had a private yard exit.
There was a pool, a pool table, a huge TV, and a gourmet kitchen. There was a separate backyard for the kids and a grilling area. Dillon looked at Coke. "You did a good job, babe."
Coke grinned. "I been here a couple times. Tina is a good lady and gives us a great deal."
"This is like a palace." Hell, there were two dining areas. Since no one else was there, he bounced over to give Coke a kiss.
Coke reached out, hand cupping the back of his head and that fine specimen of cowboy kissed him so hard his toes curled. That was what he loved most. Touching Coke.
"We got an hour, cowboy." Coke mumbled the words against his mouth, hips pressing close enough that it felt like a promise.
Woo. Possibly hoo. "We could just leave the door open to the yard for a bit."
"Uh-huh." Coke grabbed the water bowls.
They got the bassets watered, the cold groceries put away and the one door propped open just enough to let the bassets in and out. Then they headed to the bedroom without another word, of one mind.
Coke took his boots off, hung his gimme cap on the hook by the door. Then the t-shirt came off, baring that broad, fuzzy chest.
Dillon's fingers twitched, and he started shucking clothes, wanting to be touch. He wanted naked touching, though. He wanted to see it all, too. Just admire a minute. There was nothing like his bullfighter.
"Cowboy, get moving."
"Huh?" He blinked, his hands still tangled in his shirtfront. "You first."
"You see my old ass all the time."
"A? Not old. B? Mine. Get it bare."
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