Drawing the Devil Read online

  A heart can live a lifetime in eight seconds.

  Ever since his father caught him with another boy and threw him out at the tender age of sixteen, Dustin Lewis has been fighting his way up the national bull-riding rankings. He’s on the brink of qualifying for the National Finals when he draws Diablo, a notoriously rank bull—and the ride goes bad.

  When bullfighter Shane Rees frees Dustin from the rigging of the same bull that nearly destroyed his face, he comes dangerously close to dropping his guard. Shane knows the potential consequences of being gay in a sport loaded with testosterone-overdosed cowboys, and the resulting scars of mind and body have left him with little self-worth.

  Their near-death-by-bull first meeting sparks an attraction that awakens every last one of their personal demons. Yet as the National Finals draws closer, so do they. But they’ll have to overcome emotional highs, near-tragic lows, and bone-crushing danger before love can bust out of the chute.

  Warning: Contains man-on-man boot knocking, rawhide and raw emotions, badass cowboys and even badder-ass bulls. This ain’t your old man’s rodeo.

  Drawing the Devil

  Jon Keys

  Chapter One

  Nothing made Dustin feel more alive than sitting on a ton of beef and balls that ate cowboys for lunch. The rush was almost as good as sex. Almost. He was going to get a hell of a buzz from the bull he drew today.

  “Get him in there, boys!” yelled Dustin.

  His pulse raced as the bull slammed into the gate, never slowing from his headlong race down the alleyway. It tried to climb over the chute, hooves banging against the enclosure. Dustin waited for a still moment and then dropped onto the brindle hide below him. The metal chute was tight against Dustin as his legs wrapped around the bull with no room to spare. His body flooded with adrenaline. He yanked the rope around his rosin-coated glove as Diablo fought with the metal chute, then drew his crotch snug against his hand. He rammed his cowboy hat down tight. There was a second when everything aligned. Dustin gave the gateman a quick flip of his head, the signal for all hell to be let loose.

  The side of the chute flew open with the force of two thousand pounds of muscle ramming against it, ending with the crash of metal against metal. The bull jumped sideways to clear the gate, then dropped into a spin.

  With a snap of his hindquarters, the bull sprinted a few yards, then contracted like the devil’s slinky. It uncoiled violently, slashing the air with all four hooves in a gravity-defying move. As he anticipated each twist of the bull, Dustin tightened his jaw in determination. The bull finished his move by slamming against the ground, jarring Dustin to the bone.

  Fuck! I see why this bastard’s named Diablo.

  Diablo dropped into another spin. His body swapped ends with each thump of Dustin’s heart. As the bull hit his stride, Dustin struggled to regain control. No! Fuck! You aren’t tossing me. Seeming to sense Dustin’s effort, the bull flipped back on itself and reversed the spin. The forces pummeled Dustin even as his muscular legs fought to regain their grip. Forces outside his control overwhelmed him. His battle against animal and time ended as he fell into the hellish vortex the bull created.

  Shane’s gut twisted when the gate exploded outward and a familiar tiger-striped bull jumped into the arena. It had to be this motherfucker? His thoughts flashed to the thick scar bisecting his face. A souvenir from the last time he’d dealt with this bull. The crash of metal against metal signaled the start of Shane’s job. He focused his entire being on the cowboy who might need his help.

  Shane tracked everyone as he positioned himself: rider, bullfighters and bull. There was a reason this bull won the vote for rankest bull at most of the rodeos he was at. Diablo liked to hurt cowboys and bullfighters. Shane gathered up the tattered legs of his costume as he read the beast’s moves and adjusted his position constantly so he could rush in if needed.

  He studied the rider and how he handled the bull through the first jumps. Shane could imagine the painful jar reverberating through the cowboy each time the bull moved from one maneuver to another. Then it happened—the break in rhythm marking the loss of control from the rider. Damn it. Shane ran toward the bull. This bull rider needed help getting out of the arena in one piece. When he lost his seat and fell inside Diablo’s spin, Shane shifted to a frantic sprint.

  He ran across the bull’s path, waved his hands and hoped the loose flags of clothing flapping in front of him would distract the bull from the cowboy under his hooves. A split second later, the situation became worse. The guy was hung in his bull rope. The slender rider bounced against the enraged animal like a rat in a terrier’s mouth.

  Shit!

  Shane ran across the path of the rampant bull, hoping he would give the other bullfighter enough time to get to there. “Come on, you worthless piece of hamburger meat. Chase me!”

  The bull spun toward Shane, responding to the rag streamers that flapped from his arms. Diablo pawed the arena floor, tossed dirt high in the air and charged Shane. As he cut in to avoid the bull, the other bullfighter yanked on the kid’s arm. He popped loose from the rigging, and they landed on the arena floor in a heap. Shane dodged the end of Diablo’s blunt horn by a hair as he danced away, leading the bull from the pair, who struggled to get across the expanse of arena.

  Shane raced for the barrelman, who dropped inside at his approach. As his painted face disappeared, Shane spun the barrel and positioned it between himself and the bull. Not a heartbeat later, the bull charged and a dull thud sounded as a cockeyed horn struck the barrel’s aluminum wall. Diablo paused, then tossed a spire of dust before charging Shane again.

  Shit! Get that cowboy out of here!

  Shane gauged the progress of the other two as he worked to keep the barrel between himself and the angry animal. After a brief test of wills, the bull left Shane and ran along the wall in search of an easier victim. Shane used the time to catch his breath. The bull circled back, and Shane’s heart jumped into his throat when Diablo’s head snapped up, his nostrils flared, and he spun toward the fleeing pair.

  God damn it!

  The bull thundered toward them as they ran for the fence. Shane realized only a slim chance of intercepting the ton of beef existed. He ran at Diablo, who whirled toward him again. The two ran a collision course, with Shane certain to be the loser. A gasp erupted from the crowd when, at the last second, Shane jumped toward the bull.

  Diablo slammed to a stop. Shane sailed over his head and planted a foot on his thick neck. His momentum carried him forward to complete the jump. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause as he landed on the packed arena floor. He spun in time to see the cowboy pulled over the fence. The other bullfighter ran back into the arena as the bull shot out the gate.

  Shane walked to the barrelman and slapped him on the back. “Did you get a nice nap in there? Ready for another bull?”

  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Shane threw up his arms in a triumphant gesture…and curtseyed.

  Chapter Two

  Shane sat in a dark corner of the bar, the intermittent flashes of flickering neon the only illumination. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see the handsome kid who’d tried to ride Diablo.

  “Hey, man. I’m Dustin. You saved my ass today. Your drinks are on me. They said you jumped the damn bull to give them time to drag me out.”

  Shane lifted his longneck and filled his mouth with the cool amber liquid, then let it slide down his dry throat as their eyes met. “Name’s Shane. Glad I could help. Your ride was a little crazier than usual, but with the amount of beer I plan to drink tonight, it’ll cost you.” Shane leaned back into the shadows, trying to further hide h
is scarred face.

  A dimple appeared in Dustin’s cheeks when he grinned. “I ended up winning today, so I can cover it.”

  “You won? I thought you fell before the buzzer?”

  Dustin lifted his bottle of beer and chugged down its contents, his prominent Adam’s apple dancing as he swallowed. He emptied the longneck and lowered it with a sigh. “Everyone had shitty rides today, but my other go-rounds kicked ass, so I ended up high score.”

  Another cocky, good-looking bull rider.

  “Hey, fag, how’s it goin’?”

  Shane bristled and started to stand to defend himself, but realized the crack was directed at Dustin.

  “Yeah, fuckwad. Look whose tiny little dick is talking for him again,” said Dustin.

  The interloper tipped his hat backward with a friendly wink. “Yeah, pussy. We’ll see who has the biggest dick. Just wait.”

  “Hey, asshole, meet Shane. He’s the bullfighter who saved my butt today. We were just talkin’ about how much beer he’d have to drink before we’re even.” Dustin turned to Shane. “Todd puts out for me whenever I whistle.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Dustin loves my dork up his honey hole.”

  “Honey hole? You’re such a dumb shit.”

  “Yeah, fuckin’ whatever. I need to find some hot tail to slip my nine inches into.”

  “Go for it. Maybe there’s some drunk chick here who’ll think your four inches is nine.”

  Todd flipped Dustin off as he walked to a huddle of girls whose drinks all had little umbrellas.

  Dustin twisted back to Shane. “Sorry about Todd. He’s an ass, but he’s my best friend.” Dustin signaled the bartender and drank from the ice-cold bottle he brought, his second. “Also my closest competition.”

  “Yeah, I saw you were really high in the earnings. Taking a run at Finals?”

  Dustin nodded and set down his beer. “Yup, I’ve got a good shot at making the short list. If I don’t get too many more repeats of today.”

  Shane’s hand drifted to the deep scar. “Yeah, he’s a bad son of a bitch.”

  Dustin stood, grabbed Shane’s chin and turned his face toward the light. “He the one who did that? Nasty SOB. He should be dog food.”

  Shane reached up, pulled Dustin’s hand away and tried not to show how much the touch bothered him. He leaned against the wall and glowered at Dustin. Arrogant ass. I’m not some freak for your inspection.

  Dustin motioned for the bartender. “Hey, my buddy needs another beer.” A fresh drink appeared on the bar, and he handed it to Shane. Dustin continued to flit from topic to topic without pause, and Shane realized the incident with his scar had been no more meaningful to the cowboy than the color of his eyes. Social skills didn’t seem to be one of Dustin’s strong points, but as the night wore on, Shane found his bluntness a charming quirk rather than an annoyance.

  “So yeah, I was like ‘get your skanky ass off me’, and her nasty tongue looked like a baby calf after a bottle. I mean…” Dustin shoved his tongue out as far as he could and waved it in the air.

  Shane held his side, sore from laughing at Dustin and his wild stories. The evening made Shane more comfortable than he’d been in years. He finished the last swallow of the bottle bought by Dustin hours before. He knew his limit, and tonight’s trip crossed several state lines. He motioned Dustin closer. “Sorry to cut this short, but I guess I’d better go. I have to be in Cody tomorrow.”

  “Hey, that’s my next rodeo too. Todd was driving, but he’s decided to hit the one in New Mexico. You mind if I bum a ride? I’ll split the gas and motel room. That’ll save us some money. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind not arriving flat broke again.”

  “That’ll work. You don’t mind sharing a room?”

  “Nope, sounds solid to me. I’m about done here. We can get on the road and put some distance behind us before stoppin’ for the night.” Dustin stretched and stifled a yawn. “Not too far, though. I’m already beat. You good to drive?”

  Shane nodded. “Yeah, I was a cheap date for you. I only had a couple of beers all night. Let’s head out. We couldn’t find a motel around here anyway. They’re all booked for the rodeo.”

  “Cool, let me tell Todd.”

  Shane nodded, glad he hadn’t agreed to travel with both Dustin and Todd. Their crude banter would get old fast. Dustin had the potential to wear on his nerves.

  Todd noticed Dustin working through the crowd in his direction. His friend had a relaxed expression he didn’t see often. Todd swigged his beer as Dustin walked up.

  “Hey, bud. I’m jettin’. I’ll leave my pickup at your place until your dad has time to take a look at it,” Dustin said.

  Todd nodded, then leaned in to give the curvy blonde under his arm a kiss on the cheek. “That’s cool. You found a ride, then?”

  “Yup, Shane’s goin’ to the same rodeo, so I’m ridin’ with him. We’re gonna drive as long as we can, then crash for the night.”

  “Hey, you sure? You don’t really know the guy.”

  “What’da you mean? I’ve seen him plenty of times.”

  “No, you know. You can’t tell about people. Cody’s a hell of a long ways off.”

  Dustin scrunched his eyebrows together as he struggled to make sense of Todd’s comment. “He’s fine. We’ve been drinkin’ together all night. Don’t be a douche bag!”

  “Whatever, man. I’m just sayin’ stay safe. Ya know?”

  Dustin walked off, flipping his friend the bird, his face set in a scowl.

  Shane let out a deep sigh, his fingers beating a rapid rhythm on the dark countertop. “You’ve only got the one single?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry but there’s a state high school softball tournament in town, and all the accommodations are booked.”

  Why does this crap always happen to me?

  Shane glanced at Dustin, concerned about what the rodeo rumor mill might make of the situation. He’d have to tell Dustin—it wasn’t fair to the cowboy otherwise.

  “What do you think? I can sleep in the chair or something,” said Shane.

  “Nah, we can share the bed. She said it’s a queen. I’m beat. I don’t feel like drivin’ any further.”

  “Yeah, me neither. I want to get the dirt off me and crash.”

  “Okay.”

  Shane turned to the desk clerk, finalized the arrangements and then handed Dustin his copy of the key card. The pair jumped back into the pickup and drove to their room.

  Standing at their door, Dustin struggled to get the lock’s magic green light to appear. Each time the light flashed red, Dustin’s curses increased in volume. With a final frustrated swipe, it unlocked, and Dustin shoved the door open. They tossed their stuff onto the bed, and Shane surveyed the room. Spartan but functional. He glanced in the bathroom. “It’s clean. I’ve slept in worse. I’ll take a quick shower, then you can have it. That work for you?”

  “Sure, I’ll just chill and see if there’s anything on the tube.” Dustin grabbed the remote, and the television screen soon had images flashing by like a bad vacation slide show. Dustin flipped through channels so fast Shane didn’t see how he could tell what was what. He cocked his head when Dustin found Cartoon Network and lay back on the bed to watch. Too exhausted to care that Dustin was there, Shane undressed, tossing his clothes into a pile before starting the shower. He would have sworn Dustin was watching, but as he pulled the door closed, Dustin’s attention seemed riveted on a Roadrunner cartoon.

  The heat of the water soaked into his sore muscles. Damn, what a hell of a day. It feels like I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen. Shane spent several delicious minutes letting the hot spray loosen some of his aches. He shouldn’t be this bruised after a night in the ring. For God’s sake, he was just twenty-six. But tonight, he felt more like sixty-six.

  Shane squirted some of the motel
soap on the thin washcloth. First, he scrubbed his crotch, then his armpits, happy with the definition he’d managed to keep from all those years of gymnastics. That stuff saved my bacon today. He shook his head at himself as he rinsed his pits and ran the cloth over his chest and stomach.

  Water ran off in freshets while he washed. He appreciated the slight chubby he managed to get from a few seconds of touching. At least that still works. With his foot on the edge of the tub, he ran the cloth down his crack and soaped it gently. The hot water had worked its magic, so he could enjoy the tingle that ran through his body as the dripping cloth ran over his pucker. He stood for a last few minutes, thinking about Dustin and how he’d enjoyed his time with the young cowboy. Too bad it couldn’t last.

  Shane emerged from the shower to find Dustin still glued to the television. He rubbed the towel over his hair, then wrapped it around his waist. He turned his back to Dustin to dig through his bag for a toothbrush to finish his nightly routine. “Shower’s all yours.”

  Dustin tossed the remote on the bed, bounced around and gaped at Shane. “Damn! What happened to you?”

  Shane shot his hands to his face before he realized Dustin’s eyes were locked on the livid marks across his ribs. He let out a sigh of relief as he answered. “A bull was too fast for me a year or so ago. He caught me with his horn on a day I was too stupid to wear a vest.” Shane met Dustin’s gaze. “Bull riders aren’t the only ones who suffer from immortality disease.”

  Dustin’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah, bull riders are kinda full of themselves.” He rolled to his back and scooted his jeans and underwear off his ass.

  Shane appreciated the brief show when Dustin’s smooth butt appeared. When Dustin windmilled his feet in the air and then yanked at his socks, his ass crack was exposed. Shane was treated to more glimpses of Dustin’s good bits as the performance continued.

  Fuck, he’s sexy. Damn bull riders!

  Dustin wriggled out of his pants and kicked them to the floor. He jumped up on the bed and bounced as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. The shirt shot across the room as Dustin bounded off the bed and toward the shower.