Country Fried Love

$2.99

When Jaime flies to Iowa for his friend’s wedding, he discovers the closeted lover he’d left in college is out and the star at a local drag club. After a wedding weekend full of reunion sex, all Jaime wants to do is bring Trevor, aka ShyAnne, back to Denver to star at his club.

Except Trevor’s built a good life for himself in Iowa, and he wonders if Jaime wants him only for his high heels. The sex might be great, but he knows Jaime got bored with his countrified life once.

An offer for Jaime to buy an Iowa drag club has both of them rethinking their situation, and Jaime wondering if he can really be happy with some country boy love.

Description

Country Fried Love by W.M. Kirkland
erotic gay contemporary romance
about 25,000 words
Release Date: April 9, 2016 (Re-Release Date)

When Jaime flies to Iowa for his friend’s wedding, he discovers the closeted lover he’d left in college is out and the star at a local drag club. After a wedding weekend full of reunion sex, all Jaime wants to do is bring Trevor, aka ShyAnne, back to Denver to star at his club.

Except Trevor’s built a good life for himself in Iowa, and he wonders if Jaime wants him only for his high heels. The sex might be great, but he knows Jaime got bored with his countrified life once.

An offer for Jaime to buy an Iowa drag club has both of them rethinking their situation, and Jaime wondering if he can really be happy with some country boy love.

Excerpt

Trevor Marcomb paused at the archway leading into the bar. In his jeans and a faded chambray shirt with worn workboots, he might have been any of the local boys. The small rainbow triangle necklace on a ball chain he wore might be cheap and cheesy to a big city guy like Jaime, but to Trevor it symbolized a hell of a lot. He was out, and fucking proud of it too. He’d earned respect at the store. Even a few of his coworkers came to the club every now and then. There might still be closed minds around here, but Trevor wasn’t afraid of them any longer.

He quickly spied Jaime sitting at a table along one wall. He worked on his tablet, making Trevor wonder how long he’d been there. Trevor didn’t pause. Didn’t take a deep breath. He simply strode over and sat down at the table across from Jaime. “Hi,” he said in his ShyAnne voice. “I’m glad you waited for me.”

Jaime looked up from his tablet. His eyes widened. “Trev?” He shook his head and clamped his lips shut, as if he couldn’t believe who was sitting before him. “ShyAnne? Shit,” he muttered. “Is it you?” he finally gasped out.

“Yes to both,” Trevor said, “and it’s damn good to see you.” He relaxed a small bit at Jaime’s response. His old lover hadn’t thrown him out, hadn’t stood up and stormed off. “So what’d you think of the show?”

“It was great.”

Trevor preened. “You think so? You’re the professional, so don’t blow smoke up my ass if it sucked.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes at Trevor, studying him for a moment. “You’ve changed, haven’t you? And no, I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. It was good. You might need a little polish, perhaps some updating on the numbers, but I could see you on the stage at Flux, and that’s not just because of our history.”

So he’d acknowledged it. Trevor nodded. “Thank you. It means a lot to me as a performer.”

They sat in silence for several moments. Jaime tapped a few things on his tablet and then slipped it into a neoprene sleeve.

“Can I get you a drink?” Jaime asked. He glanced at the mostly empty bar. “And do you want to head up to my room? It’d be more private.”

“Sure. I’ll take a decent beer.”

Jaime nodded and grabbed his tablet. He went to the bar and got two bottles, then turned back to the table and nodded at Trevor. Together they left the bar. Trevor glanced at Jaime as they walked side by side. He was still the same grace in motion, nothing wasted, every move economized. He handed the other beer to Trevor as soon as they were out of the bar, and Trevor took a long drink. It was a good local brew, and right now the hops and alcohol were a balm to his nerves.

At the end of the hall, Jaime stopped and worked his key card. He opened the door. “It’s not a suite or anything, but there’s a couch if you want.”

Trevor followed him inside, noting the zipped suitcase and the messenger bag leaning against the luggage rack. A garment bag hung in the open closet area. Melting ice sat in the ice bucket, and a plastic hotel cup had water in it on the table by the television. Trevor sat.

He watched Jaime dump the ice bucket in the bathroom sink. Not even bothering to use a washcloth for a coaster, Jaime set his beer on the table, then sat on the bed opposite him. God, seeing Jaime on the bed, leaning forward slightly, brought up so many memories and possibilities. He could get him naked, then kneel between Jaime’s legs and suck his cock. Trevor remembered the length and girth, how he played with one spot just beneath the head that made Jaime come every time.

Trevor leaned forward in an almost identical match to Jaime’s pose. His necklace swung forward. As ShyAnne he’d practiced the move several times. As Trevor he hadn’t cared, until he saw Jaime notice his necklace.

“You out?” Jaime asked.

Trevor nodded. “For a few years now. ShyAnne’s been performing for a while, ever since the club opened.”
Jaime arched an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me before? You had ample opportunity in the bar earlier.”

“Because I figured you’d run.” Trevor dropped the words like a truth bomb.

Jaime went still.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Trevor refused to drop the subject. “I don’t blame you. I ran. I was a hot damned mess. So yeah, I didn’t tell you that the boyfriend you had but who couldn’t come out was now out and running drag. I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“You have that little faith in me?” Jaime looked away. “I also figured out you were in drag. I do this for a living, remember?”

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