Ride a Stud

By J.D. Walker

Sequel to Save a Horse

Ranch foreman Bo Clack has been besotted with town sheriff Nicholas “Bulldog” McMurtry for years. Bulldog knows it, the town knows it, and even Bo knows nothing will ever happen, but he seems to be stuck in a lovesick rut. Then Sam Kinsey, a regular guest at one of the sheriff’s weekend barbecue orgies, takes an interest in Bo, and he won’t be ignored.

Except, Sam can’t seem to say the right thing to the foreman and puts his foot in it too many times to count. And then others try to give Bo and Sam a helping hand and make things worse. From a fistfight to fending off unwanted advances at a bar, Bo navigates this brave new world where everyone is trying to get him a happy ending. With Sam.

Maybe he should let them. Because, once you save the horse, then you, uh, ride the stud.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Apr 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781634861076

J.D. Walker

J.D. Walker likes to keep her stories short and sweet. A multi-published author, she is also a musician, artist, and lover of all things knit and crochet. For more information, visit lifebyjo.com/jdwalker.

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Ride a Stud

By J.D. Walker

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2016 J.D. Walker

ISBN 9781634861076

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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PizzyGirl, this one’s for you.

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Ride a Stud

By J.D. Walker

Shit. There was a hole in my favorite canary-yellow shirt. Must have happened while I repaired the fence last week. Guess I’d have to order another one.

I chose something in robin’s egg-blue instead—I wouldn’t be caught dead or alive in plaid—then dragged on a pair of jeans and well-polished boots. I may work in shit and mud all day, but that didn’t mean I had to look like it. A man had his standards.

After checking my face in the mirror for wrinkles—aside from the crow’s feet that had taken up residence years ago—I frowned at the silver currently encroaching on my dirty blond strands. Traitors. My light gray eyes seemed to say, Get over yourself, in the mirror.

I sprayed on a little of my favorite citrus-scented cologne and sauntered to the kitchen to find coffee already brewed in my favorite pink mug. I grabbed it before strolling out on the porch to watch the Saturday sunrise. It was a cool morning, though it promised to warm up a bit on this spring day. I was always up with the birds, even on weekends.

The foreman’s cottage had served me well over the years. It was small and just the right size for a bachelor such as myself. I sighed as I spied the ranch house across the way, and the town sheriff, Nicholas Bulldog McMurtry’s pickup truck parked out front. He was the reason for my staid bachelorhood, though that didn’t mean I’d sworn off sex. I wasn’t that crazy.

The sheriff was having another one of his infamous barbecues this afternoon, meaning an orgy was imminent. Buddies from his old unit and others he’d hooked up with over the years would drop by once in a while, and their antics were not for the faint of heart.

I usually cooked since I was around and made a decent burger, unlike some people. And the sight of hot men in tight jeans was invigorating for the libido. A Bulldog man-sandwich was inevitable. It happened every time, and though I knew he didn’t do it on purpose, it always broke my heart. He knew my feelings, and