When the feared locomotive arrives in the small town, Jet waits at the rundown station to discover the truth about the old iron horse that has long been feared by the townspeople. Coming face to face with a mysterious man dressed all in black, he has a barrage of questions for the lone rider. The quick tempered man is somewhat amused by Jet’s juvenile inquiries but the inquisition does not deter him from his secret mission. Jet’s name is not on the list, but the man in black decides that he will be an amusing distraction. With a little coercion, a friendly dare, and the offer of a train ride to a place he will never forget, the sexy man lures Jet inside.
When the feared locomotive arrives in the small town, Jet waits at the rundown station to discover the truth about the old iron horse that has long been feared by the townspeople. Coming face to face with a mysterious man dressed all in black, he has a barrage of questions for the lone rider. The quick tempered man is somewhat amused by Jet’s juvenile inquiries but the inquisition does not deter him from his secret mission. Jet’s name is not on the list, but the man in black decides that he will be an amusing distraction. With a little coercion, a friendly dare, and the offer of a train ride to a place he will never forget, the sexy man lures Jet inside.
Excerpt:
“So, it’s true. There really is a mystery man aboard this old thing. What’s your name…Jesse James?”
The taunting tone in the young man’s voice caused a familiar stir in the rider’s gut. “No, sir,” he answered. The manner in which the young man stepped back when the rider extended his hand caused a smirk to form on the rider’s lips. He was a fine young man with dark hair and dark eyes. He was fairly tall and well proportioned…not too skinny. The lone rider liked that in a man. He took his time studying the daring young man. He was young enough not to have known many of the pleasures that a man could give him, but he was too bold and cocky for his own good. This was one horse that would need to be broken.
A teasing smile was formed by the thick lips of the young man who wore tight pants that fit his butt perfectly and formed tantalizing half moons as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. The lone rider of the train fixed his stare on the man’s midsection and lower, hoping to make him uncomfortable, but it didn’t work. He didn’t shift his stance to lessen the view nor did he seem embarrassed at being ogled. He stood facing the train’s traveler with his hands on his hips and announced proudly, “The name is Jackson, but my friends call me Jet.”
The pride evident in his proclamation made the dark mysterious man laugh, a deep throaty laugh that was clearly meant to be mocking in its tone. “Well, Jet, why are you here?”
“Curious, I guess. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about?”
“Fuss?”
“Yes, fuss. You should see this little town when this old piece of tin whines and moans its way along the tracks.” He kicked his foot out in a pretend kick to the old train to make his point. “Everyone is so scared of it. They stop in their tracks as if they were struck by lightning. It’s insane.”
The mysterious man rubbed his chin. “Is it?”
The darkly dressed man challenged the younger man. “Well, how about a ride on this old, what did you call it, piece of tin?”
Jet looked down at his feet, rolling the toe of his boot on the cement floor of the station. He couldn’t chicken out now, and the man was mysteriously sexy. He looked up and the dark eyes seemed almost black now as they peered into his own. “Sure, I’ll go.”
It was dark inside the old locomotive. The windows were blackened and Jet could not see a thing. “Make yourself at home. It’s going to be a long ride.”
******
Photographs of handsome men and beautiful women dressed in formal attire were mounted on the walls along with photographs of Dakta. The photos of Dakta were breathtaking and they captured the man perfectly in everything from formal dress to completely nude. Some of them showed a great deal of discretion, but others detailed everything. Arousal showed in every part of him. The dark brooding eyes were mesmerizing, but it was the body that was a work of art. Dakta’s chest was broad and thick, tapering down to a well toned torso, nearly perfect, as if sculpted. The long legs made Jet’s mouth water as he thought of them intertwined with his own. He returned to the eyes, the intensity so great they appeared to be seeing into him from the photograph.
“Do you own this place?”
“No. This ‘place’ belongs to Miles.”
