Stallions and Studs Box Set

Shoulda Been a Cowboy-5

Charlie looked around the Boise air terminal. Nowhere near as busy as O’Hare, which they had flown out of very early that morning, but exciting nonetheless as Charlie felt his cowboy adventure had actually begun. He and Jared stood with Rick and Richard, two men from Nashville they had met on the flight and who were destined for the dude ranch as well. Their claim to fame seemed to be that Richard’s last name was Richardson and Rick’s, Ricard. The family joke was figuring out whose mail belonged to whom.

When Jared asked them why they had chosen Stallions and Studs for their vacation, their response was, “Are you kidding, haven’t you looked at the online pictures of the staff? The testosterone fairly oozed off the screen.”

Charlie hid his self-satisfied smile.

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, me either,” Jared said with an air of sarcasm that Charlie immediately picked up on.

“Come on. You agreed to come and give it a fair shot. Remember what Richard and Rick said about the staff.”

Jared ignored the remark and jabbed Charlie in the ribs, saying, “Oh, my God! Look over there. It’s the Marlboro Man in the flesh.” He laughed derisively.

Charlie looked in the direction Jared had indicated and saw a tall, older man. His face was weathered, and he sported a handlebar moustache, but that didn’t distract from the fact he was extremely handsome, something that seemed to escape Jared’s notice. In addition to his rugged good looks, the Marlboro Man was built. His chest filled out his plaid shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbow revealing his muscular forearms. His slight paunch seemed only to add to his mystique in Charlie’s opinion.

The man was gazing around as if looking for someone. When his gaze fell on Charlie, Jared, and the Richards he broke into a big smile and walked toward them, oozing cowboy sexuality with every stride.

“Howdy, gents,” he said in a deep voice that seemed to tickle Charlie’s balls. “Ya don’t jist happen ta be Charlie Bradley, Jared Clarke, Richard Richardson, and Rick Ricard, do ya?”

“Well, shut ma mouth if we jist don’t happen ta be them,” Jared said, imitating the man’s accent.

Charlie glared at Jared before looking back at the man. He extended a hand and said, “You have to excuse my friend’s bad manners…jet lag. I’m Charlie, and this is Jared.”

The man gave a deep laugh that resonated through Charlie’s body. He took Charlie’s hand and gave it a firm, welcoming shake.

“Pleased ta meet ya. I’m Mack MacIntrye, owner of Stallions and Studs. I’m here ta collect ya’ll and take ya ta the ranch.”

He dropped Charlie’s hand and extended his to Jared, who accepted it.

“Hope that there jet lag a yers clears up real soon,” Mack said with a wink. Then he turned to Richard and Rick and shook their hands, too.

For a minute Charlie thought Rick was going to swoon.

“We’ll jist wait here a minute,” Mack said. “Wade and Rio are bringin’ the van around and we kin git yer luggage all loaded up.”

“Wade and Rio?” Jared whispered to Charlie with a chuckle. “How very cowboy.”

But when the men drove up in the van, hopped out, shook hands with each of the new arrivals, and introduced themselves, it was Jared’s turn to try to stop drooling and keep his eyes from popping out of his head. Suddenly it seemed those cowboy names were very appropriate.

Both men wore tight jeans with silver championship belt buckles attesting to their prowess on the rodeo circuit: Charlie could see from the inscriptions Rio’s was in bulldogging and Wade’s in bronc riding. Both wore straw cowboy hats and western boots. Rio was short but built like a bull: his muscles bulged from beneath a gray Stallions and Studs tank top.

If Rio Cody was spectacular then Wade Connors was magnificent: tall and handsome, with dark hair and a smile that melted Charlie’s heart and made his c**k sit up and plead for attention. He wore a blue denim shirt from which the sleeves had been ripped. It was unbuttoned to the navel, revealing his massive chest, which was covered with a tangle of black hair. His colossal arms begged to be admired visually, tactilely, and orally.

Charlie glanced around and realized he and all three of his companions were staring at the two men with unabashed lust in their eyes.

Rio and Wade on the other hand seemed not to notice but casually welcomed them to Boise. Then they loaded their heavy bags onto the rack on top of the van as if they weighed no more than a few ounces.

“Hop in, gents,” Mack said when the loading was complete. “Make yourselves comfortable. It’s a might fer piece back ta the ranch.”

Mack got in the driver’s seat. In the mild confusion of entering the van Charlie wound up in the center seat with Wade sitting next to him.

Somehow Jared ended up riding shotgun. He was scowling. Charlie looked over his shoulder and saw Rio sitting between Rick and Richard in the back of the van. Richard rolled his eyes and mouthed “I’ve got a hard-on.” Charlie turned back, chuckling to himself.

As they pulled away from the curb, Wade laid his arm across the back of the seat. He wasn’t touching Charlie, but Charlie was acutely aware the bare arm was there, right behind him. As they made the turn out of the pick-up area the centrifugal force of the turn seemed to cause Wade’s leg to come in contact with Charlie’s. Wade made no attempt to move it.

Charlie felt a tightening in his groin. Here he was, sitting next to a real life cowboy who almost had his arm around him and a muscular leg pressed against his own. Mack’s comments the length of the trip were quite welcome under these conditions as Charlie felt as though the drive could take forever and he wouldn't mind in the least.