Boys Will Be Boys

Boys Will Be Boys


M/M Erotic Romance


Five hot man-on-man short stories involving cowboys, trespassers and a thankful gypsy eager to show his appreciation to a kind priest.

Trespassing – Lucy Felthouse 
Jack Hiddleston is walking in the woodlands of his father’s estate when he comes across a trespasser. He quickly realises there’s no malice in the other man’s actions, but as he gets to know Ben Kiddell, Jack realises that, far from kicking Ben off the Hiddleston estate, he never wants him to leave.

The Forgiven – V.C. 
A gypsy boy finds sanctuary in the Notre Dame cathedral where a priest saves him from being arrested from stealing a loaf of bread. The gypsy repays him with pleasure; the priest repays him with so much more.

Dirty in Denim – Jillian Boyd 
When Steven’s housemate Anna hires a sexy handyman to fix up their place, it’s lust at first sight. Soon, hunky Michael is the only thing in Steven’s fantasies, and trying to concentrate when a fit man in tight jeans is painting your kitchen proves not to be the only hard thing about the situation…

Natural Attraction – Sasha Distan 
Wesley Thompson is a displaced and rather unhappy Louisiana cowboy. Living the New Jersey suburbs gives him no pleasure, except for his daily ritual of sitting on his tailgate by the local reservoir and wishing he was home. The highlight of this activity: the beautiful boy and his horse who ride by each afternoon. After one horrible day at work when the boy fails to appear and falls from his horse, Wesley decides that it is the time for action, and goes after what his heart wants

Bad Boy Bound – Charlie J Forrest 
Chris gets a lift to a business meeting from a colleague (Richard). They have flirted before and en-route they play out a kidnap fantasy involving handcuffs. This culminates in Chris giving Richard a blowjob in the front seat of a parked van.


Click for excerpt »

Jack whistled cheerfully as he strode along one of the woodland paths on his father’s estate. It’d be his estate one day, but he tried not to think about that. He was only twenty-two and nowhere near ready for that kind of responsibility and all the crap that went with it. His father, Gregory Hiddleston, was in the best of health and only in his forties himself, so it was easy for Jack to push it to the back of his mind. He’d worry about it when he absolutely had to, and not a moment before.

For now, he was enjoying the open space, the peace and quiet. It was a summer day so beautiful it was a cliché—the sky was blue, the sun bright and warm, sending beams of dappled light down onto him through the trees. Birds tweeted, called and sang, but otherwise there was silence. This part of the estate backed onto fields—also his father’s, but there was public access through them—and as such, was far from any roads, tracks or anything else that would shatter the peace. It truly was idyllic and Jack paused, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back. The sunshine bathed his face, the heat divine on his skin. Pulling in deep breaths, he smiled. Scents of nature; leaves, trees, undergrowth and dirt, assaulted his nostrils, added to the feelings of contentment. It was impossible to be anything but happy and grateful for such a blessed life on a gorgeous day like this.

For some moments, he continued to soak up the sun, half-wishing there was a bench nearby so he could fully relax without worrying about losing his balance and falling over. Not that there was anyone around to see him—the gamekeeper wasn’t working today—but he’d still rather not sully his good mood by making an idiot of himself.

He was halfway through taking another deep breath when a sound reached his ears. A sound that didn’t resemble anything he’d ever heard in nature. Not unless there was a very talented parrot loose in the woods that could talk and swear, anyway.

More noise; rustling, grunting. A male voice. “Fucking hell, come out! For fuck’s sake! Oww!”

Jack couldn’t be sure as sound often travelled differently in the woods, but he thought the owner of the voice was ahead and to his left, close to the edge of the estate. His heart thumped, though he was sure it couldn’t be a poacher—they wouldn’t make that much noise and risk drawing attention to themselves, surely? Plus it was broad daylight and it was well known in the area that the Hiddleston estate had a gamekeeper—and not so well known that there was only one such person, and therefore they did not work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Making his way towards the cursing trespasser, he wondered what he would find when he reached him. The grumbling and swearing grew louder, so it was obvious Jack was getting closer. Soon, he caught a glimpse of a horrible fluorescent colour through the trees—a high-vis vest or something, he guessed.

“Hello, who’s there?” Jack called, injecting as much confidence into his voice as he could muster. Silly really that he was nervous, considering he was the only one out of the two of them that was supposed to be there.

“Oh, hello! Over here—can you help me, please?”

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