Chaps: Book 3 (Part 2) Cowboy lust, hot—dirty, and unstoppable

How far are these wranglers prepared to go to fulfill their rough stock lust?

The doors of the abandoned horse trailer creaked open, allowing light to stream into the dank, darkened space. Austin brushed aside a few cobwebs as he stepped inside, then turned and hauled Nash in after him. He shoved him against the back wall of the trailer, bouncing him off it.

Austin had unlatched his belt on the walk away. His Stetson discarded on the grass outside the trailer. Garrett and I held back, waiting to see what Austin had in mind. He appeared to have a plan, starting with removing Nash's hat and tossing it in the hayloft.

As Nash stood perfectly still, Austin unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, then appeared to think better of it, and ripped Nash's shirt open to the waist. He stroked his hand across his brother's chest, tweaking at his nipples, then moved down his brother's torso.

I reached over and grabbed onto Garrett's arm, my heart leaping to double time as Austin unlatched his brother's belt buckle.

"Damn …," Garrett whispered. I looked over at him, his attention captured by the scene unfolding. Austin had removed Nash's shirt, told him to kick his boots off, ditch his socks. He circled around Nash, running his hands all over his brother's body—chest, shoulders—thighs.

Nash's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling dramatically.

Austin stripped Nash's belt from the loops of his jeans, folded it in two, and tapped the robust, metal buckle to the center of Nash's chest.

Nash exhaled seductively, licked his lips, and tipped his head back, submissive.

I nudged Garrett. "I think Austin has misled us somewhat about his brother."

"Figures." Garrett laughed. "We are talking about Austin." He stepped up into the trailer, walked toward the men, took possession of Austin's face with one hand—and kissed him.

A shiver ran down my spine and coiled in my gut as their kiss deepened, hands searching for ways inside their clothing. Nash moved closer to them and stole Garrett's attention away, laying his hand on Garrett's shoulder and sealing Garrett's lips to his own.

The three men faced one another, their breath mingling within the intimate space they'd created between them, Austin's hands on the back of each man's neck—so incredibly close.

I hopped up into the trailer, my cock pressing fiercely against the fabric of my jeans. Nash released Garrett's lips, panting—flushed, his bare chest heaving with each breath. He turned toward his brother, and their hungry, wet lips closed in against each other.

My blood surged in response, swelling my cock further, aching—tight.

Garrett's lips were nearly touching theirs, his presence encouraging them, each hand on one of their shoulders, pressing them closer.

Austin returned to Garrett, taking his face in both hands, and man-handled him against the sidewall of the trailer before attacking his mouth, frantically tugging at his clothes, lifting his shirt, struggling with his belt buckle. They were both laughing like a couple of kids.

Nash turned around to face me, unzipping his pants. He let them fall to the damp floor of the trailer and kicked them aside, his semi-erect cock bobbing with each movement, his shy demeanor overtaken by desperate lust. He reached down and picked up his brother's backpack.