The Shearing Gun can be purchased from Dreamspinner Press: Link Here.
So without further ado, I would like to introduce you to Hank and Elliot. Hank is my big, tough shearer who is so far in the closet, you need a smoke bomb and a ten-foot pole to yank him out. Thankfully Elliot arrives on the scene to save him from being eternally alone.
In this scene, Hank knows that Elliot's gay, but Elliot doesn't know that Hank's gay as well. (Yeah - that closet is pretty big for ol' Hank.) Paul, Hank's brother, knows that Hank' s gay, but doesn't know that Elliot is. (Confused yet?) Hank, the only person who does know all the gay people in the chapter, is busy keeping secrets from everyone.
Excerpt from The Shearing Gun:
I closed the gate, then pointed to the nearby dam. “Who’s up for a dip before lunch?”
Paul frowned slightly in my direction, and Elliot looked surprised. “You swim in that?” he asked.
“Hell, yes,” I replied. I was sweaty and I often took a dip before lunch. “I’ll even leave my pants on today just to stop your maidenly blushes.”
Both my brother and Elliot looked discomforted. I laughed because I knew why, and neither could say anything. Elliot, I knew, fancied me and was probably looking forward to seeing me without my clothes. However, he couldn’t look his fill or show interest because my brother was there.
Conversely, my brother thought that, since I was gay, I shouldn’t be undressing in front of any other bloke—straight or gay. He had this weird idea that I should actually cover myself up and not make myself “available.” But with Elliot within hearing range, he couldn’t tell me that.
I left the two of them to make up their own mind and strolled toward the inviting water, taking off my sling as I went and unbuttoning my shirt. I didn’t bother to look back, even as I heard the Rover start up and follow me down the hill. I sat on the edge of the dam, took off my boots and socks, and carefully looked for vicious thorns before I waded in—still in my pants as I’d promised. I struck out, making for the middle of the dam, before lying on my back and floating for a while.
A nearby splash caught my attention, and I looked up in surprise. Elliot was wading in, still in his black jeans but without his shirt and sunnies. He was pale and lean, but my dick didn’t care if he was green and warty. Male flesh, naked and dead ahead, was all my nether regions cared about. I was infinitely alarmed. Usually I could temper my reactions to other men when I was around “work.” It was only in the darkness of nightclubs or the privacy of a house in the city that I let my dick do the thinking for me.
“Shit! It’s cold, Hank,” Elliot complained as he walked in. “Don’t you know it’s winter?”
“Wuss,” I threw back at him, ducking down in the waist-deep water so my arousal couldn’t be seen. Elliot took a deep breath and plunged in, ducking under the water and coming up not too far from me. He surfaced with a flick of his hair and floated on his back next to me for a moment. “Good?” I asked.
He didn’t bother opening his eyes against the midday sun. “Ask me again when I stop shivering.”
“Oh, bullocks. It’s not that cold. You don’t even have goosebumps.” He sat up, still floating with his toes above water, but only his head sticking out.
“You have goosebumps,” he pointed out.
Yeah, but they’re not from the cold.
“Put your eyes back in your head, Quackle,” I whispered low enough so my brother, sitting on the hood of my car, couldn’t hear.
Elliot chuckled and swam around until his back was to Paul. His gazed flicked down, taking in the breadth of my shoulders and my nipples, tight with cold and arousal. He had a smirk on his face as he whispered back to me. “I’ll stop looking if you stop putting it on display. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
I don’t think I was doing a very good job of not smiling as I replied, “You can’t prove anything.”
Paul chose that moment to bellow across the expanse, “Have you two pansies had enough yet? Can we go and get some grub before my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut?”
I chose to ignore my older sibling and focused on Elliot. “So have you had enough yet, Quackle?”
He gave a huge put-upon sigh. “Not nearly enough, but I guess we should go.”
I bit my tongue and teased. “Can you control yourself enough to get out, or should I go and distract Paul for a bit?”
He laughed and cupped a handful of water and threw it in my direction. I had to swallow hard. No fishing, Hank!
“You know, Hank? You really shouldn’t tease a man who has easy access to Ketamine. One simple injection and you’re out to it. I could do all sorts of things then. I could make you sing soprano if I wanted to.”
We were laughing madly as we sloshed out of the murky water. Paul was muttering to himself and had already decided he would drive back— he had impatiently taken his place behind the wheel of my Rover. My pants were soaked, so I tossed my dry clothes in the back and hitched a ride on the outside of the vehicle. Elliot followed suit, clambering up on the step behind me.
I’m pretty sure he checked out my arse the whole way home.