Page 1 of Stud Ranch

Chapter One

Shaw Sheridan winced at the twinge in the hamstring he’d torn two years before. And just for good measure, the knee he’d blown out at twenty-nine years old decided to start creaking.

He aimed a glare at the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. His old hockey injuries seemed to act up worse in the rainy weather, which was the only weather for the past month here in Alaska.

When Shaw followed his dream to the wilderness, he never took his aches and pains into consideration…but his job did a lot to limber him up.

The Boot Knockers Ranch stretched ahead of him, the rustic log buildings and metal roofs painting a picturesque vision against the steel-gray sky. A group of cowboys walking ahead of him were talking and joking around. Shaw caught snippets of their conversation, which involved the usual speculation about the group of ladies about to land by float plane.

A new week, a new group of women, all here for a particular kind of therapy. Each plan of action was different depending on their troubles. Shaw enjoyed his new line of work, but helping women through sex therapy was a big departure from the hockey arena.

Instead of a stick, he wielded his cock, or sometimes a toy that would launch the woman to the next level of pleasure. Rather than giving his team a pep talk before going on the ice, he used his deep baritone for dirty talk to drive his clients crazy.

Still, he never expected life to take this detour. His plan to coach hockey in Alaska wasn’t dead—he’d just placed it on the back burner. Until he got his head back in the game, coaching would have to wait.

The buzz of a single propeller plane filled the air like the hum of a giant bee. He and the guys ahead of him all turned their attention to the sky. The small white aircraft zoomed between two mountains, dropping altitude by the second over the harbor where it would land.

The cowboys let out a collective whoop, their cheers carrying across the choppy water. Shaw had to grin at their antics. They acted as if their dry spells lasted months when in reality, they only lasted days. Some suffered even less than that, considering they hooked up with each other and the occasional female ranch employee—though that was forbidden territory.

“Here they come, boys!” The familiar voice hit Shaw’s ears and worked downward through his entire body.

Dylan Knoxdale aka Knots. The cowboy earned his nickname after he revealed how damn good he was with ropes. Shaw hadn’t been on the receiving end of that, but he’d witnessed it happen on stage in front of the entire ranch.

The memory made a regular appearance in his fantasies.

Shaw approached the group of men gathered on the dock. With his height of six-five, he towered over most people, so he was able to pick out Dylan’s black Stetson easily.

As if he felt Shaw’s gaze on him, Dylan glanced up. For a strong heartbeat, their gazes locked.

A dozen innuendos passed between them, and Shaw felt the stirrings of desire. Considering he was off this week, with no client of his own, it was best for him to tamp down his urges.

If he was lucky, he’d be asked to stand in for one of the cowboys and be able to slake his lust, but what he really wanted right this second…was a tall cowboy looking back at him with hooded eyes.

Damn, this had been the most unexpected part of coming to Alaska. Shaw never expected to work as a male sex therapist on a sex ranch. He really didn’t think he’d ever explore sexuality with another man. In the hockey league, in all those locker rooms, he didn’t take any interest in guys.

How things happened between him and Dylan, he still wasn’t sure. One night Shaw wandered across Dylan with his cock buried in his client. Their gazes connected, like they did just a second ago, and Shaw joined in.

Yeah, it was hot as hell, but they enjoyed each other’s company even when they were clothed. Often Dylan sought him out to partner with him on some ranch task, and they shared a lot of laughs at the other guys’ expense too.

His cock stirred behind the fly of his worn jeans. This week, it looked like he’d have to take matters into his own fist.

The float plane skimmed across the water and buzzed up to the dock. As it bobbed on the rippling waves, one of the guys tethered the craft to the mooring using ropes, and another moved forward to open the hatch door.

A set of steps unfolded, and the first lady appeared in the doorway. Shaw didn’t blame her for looking as nervous as a deer. Facing down the wild and untamed cowboys waiting to assist her off the plane wasn’t something they warned women of on the ranch website.

Shaw hung back, watching as one by one, the ladies emerged from the small plane. Six newcomers in total. A few had arrived earlier this morning via other routes and were already awaiting the selection process to pair them with their cowboys of the week.

All of their hopes hung on the Boot Knockers. They paid good money and put their faith in the ranch to help them heal from their hangups and past traumas.

As another lady exited the plane—lucky number seven—a cowboy reached out a hand to assist her to the dock. Several guys swarmed her immediately. Shaw’s line of vision was cut off by broad backs and wide shoulders, but their attention was a sure indication that she had more than one desirable attribute.

His interest lost, Shaw turned away. He’d done his duty by showing up. Their job was to give the ladies a good view of the hot men they were about to explore all their deepest desires with when they landed at the ranch.

Shaw headed back toward the lodge. Dylan’s voice carried on the wind to him, making him glance back.

Holy hell.

No wonder the guys had crowded around the last client to arrive at the ranch. The woman standing there talking to Dylan had a banging body.

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