Chapter One

Chapter

One

There was a naked person running across the

parking lot. Only they weren’t completely naked. They were wearing

a pair of cowboy boots. Sparkly cowboy boots?

Brogan Myles closed his eyes and rubbed his

face before opening them again. He knew it was early and he’d not

gotten his usual eight hours of sleep, but he was beginning to feel

like he’d woken in an alternate reality.

By the cock that flopped left and right as

he ran, the person was a man, though that did not explain the

boots. And he was naked as the day he was born. He held a pile of

clothes clutched to his chest and had a bag of some sort slung over

one shoulder.

He also looked terrified.

Brogan moved to stand in front of his truck

and waited for the naked man to notice him. Only he didn’t. The

smaller man seemed too panicked to notice anything.

Normally, Brogan would have just climbed in

his truck and left since he had a full day of driving ahead of him

and he wanted to be well away from this truck stop before dawn

broke, but something about this man called to him. And not just

because he was hung like a horse.

“You need some help, Hoss?” he asked softly,

knowing there were men sleeping in their trucks on either side of

his.

The man squealed and turned his head to

stare at Brogan with wide eyes. He slowed to a trot and angled to

where Brogan stood. “Shit, you scared me. And yes, I could use some

help, please. Where are you headed?”

Brogan hesitated a moment, wondering if this

was a new ploy to rob a trucker. But since he was a foot taller and

probably a hundred pounds heavier than this sweet man, he wasn’t

too worried about it. The fact that he had a 9 mm tucked in its

holster in the middle of his back added to his confidence.

A wolf whistle from farther down the line of

tractor-trailer trucks had Brogan frowning. “How about you get in

the cab and put those clothes on. Then we’ll talk.”

The man looked toward the truck stop’s main

building once more before nodding. Brogan escorted him around to

the passenger side and opened it.

“How do I?” The man looked from the high

door to him.

Brogan demonstrated how to climb up to the

cab and then descended again. “Give me your stuff.”

The man hesitated only a moment before

handing Brogan his clothes. He then quickly clambered up to the

cab. Brogan was shocked when his cock came to life watching the

man’s ass flex and contract. He was tempted to lean in and take a

bite out of the round cheeks. But that was the last thing this man

needed at this moment in time. He needed help, not to be

propositioned. Especially since he didn’t know if the man was even

gay, though the sparkly purple cowboys made him think he was.

A commotion across the parking lot drew his

attention. Two men in black suits had just emerged from the

building and were talking as they scanned the parking lot. No doubt

looking at the man in his truck.

Handing the man’s clothes up, he said, “You

can slide between the seats to the back and get dressed there,

Hoss. Just push through the curtain. There’s a pop-on light on the

left side wall.”

“Thank you.” The man looked down and gave

him a hesitant smile before disappearing into his home on

wheels.

Brogan flipped the lock and then closed the

door before doing an abbreviated walk around. It was time to get

the hell out of town. As he opened the driver’s door, the two men

were approaching.

They were big and built, though not as tall

or broad as he was. They were also wearing slick, expensive looking

suits while Brogan was in his work uniform of tan cargo pants and a

burgundy Henley shirt with the 3 Myles To Go logo on the chest.

“Have you seen a man out here?” One of them

held his hand up. “About this tall with curly brown hair?”

Brogan shook his head. “Sorry, can’t say I

have. He lift your wallet or something?”

The man shook his head and ignored his

question. Turning to his partner, he started walking away. “Maybe

he went the other way. Reymundos will kill us if we lose him. And

if he doesn’t, the senator will.”

Brogan frowned as he climbed up and settled

in the driver’s seat. Pulling the door closed, he hit the lock.

Since the engine had been warming up while he did his inspection,

it was ready to go.

“You okay back there, Hoss?”

****

Shepherd Stone stopped for a moment before

he finished pulling his boot back on. How should he answer that

question? That no, he was anything but all right? Or should he lie

like he normally did and assure the big, burly trucker that he was

fine?

After all, the man had just talked to the

reason he ran across the truck stop parking lot naked. Being

kidnapped from his father’s home and told his future would be that

of a sex slave in South America made this one of the worst days of

his life. The naked escape just added to the day’s humiliation.

Taking a breath, he lied. “I’m fine.”

By the other man’s grunt, the truck driver

did not believe him.

“Are you sitting down?”

Shepherd had just stood up, but plopped back

down on the queen-size bed once again. He was amazed at the

comfortable mattress. Did all truckers have such nice

accommodations in their trucks? If they did, he might be tempted to

take up trucking as a living.

Maybe then his father would acknowledge his

existence and not ignore the fact that he had a gay artist for a

son. But after tonight, he had a feeling his father would not be

talking about him at all. After all, he had sold him to a South

American drug lord and human trafficker to keep him from screwing

up the man’s reelection.

“Hoss? You sitting down or not?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Yes, I am sitting

down.”

“Once we’re on the road, you need to move to

the passenger’s seat and strap in, but for now it’s probably safer

for you to stay back there,” the trucker said as the truck began

moving.

Yeah, that probably is for the best,”

Shepherd agreed as he pulled his jeans down over his boots and

straightened his shirt.

He looked around and marveled at how much

was tucked into the small space. Not only was there a queen size

bed, but the small apartment-like area had a tiny refrigerator,

microwave, and television. What surprised him was the calendar

hanging on the wall opposite the television. Expecting to see a

naked girl, the naked man with a half-hard cock on full display was

surprising.

Was there such a thing as a gay truck

driver?

Taking a breath, he tried not to think too

hard as the truck turned left, then right, and then right again.

Feeling the engine change as they gained speed and shifted to the

left, Shepherd prayed he was in safe hands and had not just thrown

himself out of the frying pan and into the fire. Or something

worse.

“Pull back the curtain and come sit up here

with me,” the driver said a few minutes later.

Shepherd pulled back the curtains and tucked

them behind metal hooks so they would remain where they were.

Holding onto the two seats, he stepped between them, over the

center console, and sort of flopped into the passenger’s seat.

He arranged himself so he was looking out

the front window and pulled the seatbelt around, clicking it into

place.

“Wow,” he breathed as he looked around,

taking in the dark night and the road ahead of them lit only by the

truck’s headlights. They were alone on the road as far as the eye

could see. And as high as the cab was, he could see for quite a

ways.

“Okay, Hoss, let’s talk.”

The words sent ice racing through Shepherd’s

veins though he knew the man who had just rescued him had every

right to ask whatever questions he wanted. And Shepherd would try

to answer them.

Shifting, he was surprised to find the

captain type chair swiveled left and right. He studied the driver

for several long seconds and found himself licking his lips at the

big, burly man. His hair was dark, though he couldn’t tell in this

light whether it was black or just a dark brown. His profile was

strong, and from what Shepherd remembered, he had been handsome.

His hands were big and looked strong as they held the steering

wheel and guided them down the road.

In Shepherd’s eyes, he would be perfect, if

he were, indeed, gay.

“My name is Shepherd. Shepherd Scott,” he

said to start the ball rolling. If the trucker did not want to get

involved in the mess he was in, it would be better to find out now

than a hundred miles down the road. Though in either case, Shepherd

wasn’t sure what he would do. While he had his credit and debit

cards, he also knew that his father’s people would no doubt have

them tagged so they were alerted the moment he used them. For now,

he needed to stay in the good graces of this big, burly road

warrior.

“Brogan Myles. Co-owner-operator of 3 Myles

To Go trucking company.”

Though he was terrified, not only of being

thrown out, but also of his father’s men following them, Shepherd

giggled. “Three Myles To Go, huh. Cute name.”

“My brother’s idea. He’s the real boss. My

other brother and I are the drivers. Our names are just on the

paperwork.” Brogan chuckled as he held out his right hand. “Nice to

meet you.”

Shepherd did not hesitate before shaking the

man’s hand. He sucked a breath and felt his body tingle from nose

to toes as an electric charge shot through him at the big man’s

touch.

Brogan stiffened but continued shaking for

several seconds longer than absolutely necessary. Had he felt it as

well?

“So, Shepherd Scott,” Brogan finally said

once he broke the handshake and returned his hand to the steering

wheel. “Why were those guys chasing you? What kind of trouble are

you in? What are you running from?”