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

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

Garrett set his beer down on the bar and stared off into the crowd of people on the dance floor. The country bar Rusty's Saloon was packed. The beer tent on the rodeo grounds had shut down at ten, leaving a lot of thirsty cowboys and girls in need of a new venue.

I rotated my empty bottle on the stained wood bar top. Garrett had continued his streak of near silence, only grunting out short responses to anything I said. I'd given up trying to engage him in any conversation requiring more than a yes or no answer.

Discussing what Austin had said to Garrett in the trailer was entirely out of the question. I'd tried to bring it up over dinner.

Mistake.

Garrett had scraped his plate into the garbage and stormed out of the RV.

"I'll be back," Garrett said, then rose from his seat and headed off in the direction of the restroom. I sighed exhaustedly and flagged down the bartender, needing another beer.

Lots more. Full damn kegs more.

I tossed a few bills down on the bar, a fresh, cold bottle in my hand.

"What's with your friend?"

I swiveled in my seat. A gorgeous, dark-haired woman bejeweled in a seductive outfit of rhinestone-encrusted denim had slipped into Garrett's vacated seat.

"Not sure I care at the moment." I grinned at her when she laughed. "Dirk." I extended my hand. Hers fit warm and snug into mine as she introduced herself.

"Deirdre."

"Pleasure." I tipped my hat.

A devious smile lit up Deirdre's face.

"That's yet to be decided."

I smirked. "You don't waste any time, do you?" I set my hand on her thigh and moved closer. If Garrett was going to huff off and leave me to my own devices, I was going to do my best to entertain myself, and Deirdre had generously offered to join me in that pursuit.

Deirdre leaned in and kissed my neck, then whispered something the music effectively managed to drown out. I didn't need to ask her to repeat herself, though; her hand brushing the seam of my jeans, caressing my cock told me all I needed to know.

I exhaled a groan and removed her hand from my lap. I wasn't as interested as I should have been. Casual sex with a beautiful woman would undoubtedly be a welcome change from the profoundly unsettling encounters I'd been having with Garrett, but it wasn't the answer I was looking for.

Garrett was the only one who could bring me those answers.

"I'm sorry," I shouted, the music now ramped up to a deafening twang. "I can't."

Deirdre sat straight up, then leaned forward, her hand gracing my ear. Her hot breath caused me to shiver with what would be unfulfilled desire. "Girlfriend?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Something like that."

"Shame."

And just like that, Deirdre moved on, leaving Garrett's seat sitting empty. I looked toward the restrooms. He'd been gone a long time. It was possible he was lining up someone to take home with us. Unlikely though. I was typically the one to lure in a target.

I slipped through a crowd of honest, callous-handed ranchers, one of which Garrett and I had roped into joining us a few years back. I nodded as I passed by, enjoying the rise of color in his cheeks. I grinned. It was nice to be remembered.

I stopped short. The restroom was empty—no Garrett. Not even tucked into a restroom stall priming some guy's desire. I stepped back into the hallway. An exterior door at the end caught my attention. The exit was crowded by boxes of empty beer bottles but accessible.

Pushing open the door into a dark alleyway, I was irritated to find it was raining. Crazy, brutal gusts of cold, cutting wind creating sheets of driving, pelting, skin soaking rain.

I peered out, using one hand to shield my eyes from the torrent of water. I saw nothing. It was pitch black out …but I heard more than enough to know what had become of Garrett.

He wasn't securing anyone for both of us.

He'd gone off script again.

I let the door fall closed behind me as rivulets of water ran into the neck of my coat. Cold—wet, trickling down my back, chilling me.

I should've walked away, but I needed to know for sure it was him.

Shivering, I stepped into the alley and around a stack of pallets blocking my view. Garrett was face-first against the wall, grunting—groaning, an immense brute of a broad-shouldered cowboy clutching the back of Garrett's neck, pinning him in place—the cowboy's ass clenching, hips thrusting, pounding—vicious—angry.