Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Western, Gay, Darkest Desire

 

Texas cowboy Ashton is looking to let off some steam in Aspen.
Snowboarder Max is so much more…

 

Texas cowboy Ashton is looking for a new experience when he heads up to Aspen to go to The Barn, a club that mixes all things western with his favorite BDSM lifestyle. He’s not looking for anything full-time, just a place to let off some steam in private, but that all changes when he meets Max.

Snowboarder Max is an elite athlete, but he’s always up for a good time. His attraction to Ashton is immediate, but he has no idea what to do with Ashton’s club or the things Ashton wants to share. He’s intrigued, but he also has a lot going on in his life too. Can these two find enough common ground to make a relationship work?

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Julia Talbot & BA Tortuga

Ashton Gregory stood at the baggage claim at the Aspen airport, waiting for his suitcase to appear. He could hardly miss it; the place was tiny. A couple dozen other people stood around with him, most of them looking determinedly at their phones.

All but that one over there.

Uhn.

Lean and blond, tanned as shoe leather with the brightest green eyes he’d ever seen and a little scruff of a beard that begged to be shaved off. Delicious.

Ashton smiled. This one was ripe for the picking, and he stood there waiting on his bags with a snowboard in a nylon bag. An athlete then. Drifting closer, Ashton invaded the man’s space slowly.

Those eyes kept sliding toward him, watching him, then looking away.

Yes. Hello, hot little man.

“That’s quite a ride on the descent, huh. Whoosh.”

“You know it. It’s a fucking rush.” Oh, fuck him. Pheromones were pouring off the man, the look dragging over him, bold as brass.

“What are you in for this weekend?” He knew some big snow event was happening…

“Gay Ski Week. I’m doing an exhibition.”

“What kind?” He returned the clear interest with a once over that made his snowboarder’s seem fast.

“I do half-pipe. You here for the skiing? You don’t look like a boarder.” Oh, look at that heavy ridge of need in those jeans.

“No. I’m actually here for a new adventure. I joined a private club.” He would love to tell this one all about The Barn.

“No shit? Well, good on you!” The bags started clunking out of the chute. Thud. Thud. Thud.

His bag was distinctive, a sleek, steel gray hardside.

“What’s your name?” Ashton asked. “In case you slip off. I want to be able to find you.”

“Maxwell Driver. Everyone calls me Gear, though.” Maxwell held out one hand to him.

“Gear, huh?” He leaned closer to shake, electric shocks running up his arm.

“I got a steampunk vibe, you know. Gears.” The little tease lifted his shirt, showing off a hint of ink — a series of clockwork gears that trailed up and down Max’s ribcage.

“I like that, Max.” His own tattoos were just as complex, maybe more so, based on the march of the seasons across the earth. Maybe Max would get to see them.

“Thanks. I got the work done in Portland.” Max grabbed a rainbow suitcase. “I hope you have a good visit, man. Enjoy your club.”

“Wait.” He touched Max’s arm, just lightly, but it stopped the man in his tracks. “Here. I get one guest for each visit. There’s a barbecue tonight, and more events all weekend. Call me and I’ll get you in.” He handed Max two cards. One with his cell number, one with The Barn.

“Ashton. I like it.”

Max slipped the cards in his back pocket, then grabbed Ashton’s phone, holding it out and waiting patiently for him to unlock it before putting in his contact information.

Ashton smiled widely. “I’ll use it, you know.”

“Promises, promises. I’m staying at the St. Moritz. Exhibition’s tomorrow. I can get you in. If you’re into watching, I mean.”

“I love to watch.” He would squeeze it in. “What time?”

“My run’s at ten in the morning at the half-pipe. I’ll be in red.”

“I’ll be there with bells on.” He was staying in Aspen proper, renting a condo through VRBO. If he liked it, he would buy a place, since he hoped The Barn would be a regular visit for him.

“Ring a ling.” Max put his bag on his shoulder, grabbed his board. “Nice to meet you, cowboy. I love the hat.”

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