Bullheaded

was no need to worry about whatever Cody might think now or in the future, as it was none of his business and they were split anyway, but it still felt uncomfortable to think about doing it with someone they both knew.
    “Hey, cowboy.”
    Looking up from brooding into his beer, Johnny was surprised to find a clean-cut guy-next-door type standing by the table. He was wearing a suit, although his tie was loose, his shirt open more buttons than necessary, and he looked as though he’d had a few. Still, his tanned skin and the way his blue eyes crinkled in a smile were attractive. He wasn’t the handsomest guy Johnny’d ever seen, but he was sort of ugly-sexy.
    “Hey yourself.”
    The man set his beer on the table and started waving his arms around like semaphore signals.
    Johnny stared at him blankly. “You need help or something?”
    “‘YMCA’? Village people?”
    “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
    “Can’t win them all.” Confidently, the man sat down without waiting for an invitation. “You’re an Indian, right?”
    “Native American,” Johnny replied automatically. “Diné.”
    “And that means?”
    “Navajo.” He sighed.
    “Sorry. Let me pry my foot out of my stupid fucking mouth and start over. I’m not usually such a politically incorrect jerk.” The man got up, walked away, turned around, and came back with an apologetic grin. “Hey, cowboy. Crowded tonight, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah. Even the hallway—” Johnny jerked a thumb at the writhing bodies in the shadows.
    “So not classy. I’ve got a big hotel room with a nice big bed just waiting for somebody to warm it up. What about it?”
    Johnny hesitated. Then he nodded. Why not? He had supplies. He was single. He was horny and this was what he’d come here for. He knew how to take care of himself, and while this guy wasn’t totally plastered, he wasn’t exactly sober. He felt his cock throb when a hand landed on his thigh and stroked upward. He looked down and was shocked to see a wedding band on the third finger. Still, it was the guy’s business. “You clean?”
    “Yeah, but I don’t fuck, anyway. I’ll blow you and you don’t have to do me.”
    “What are we waiting for?”
    The clean-cut guy laughed. “Nothing. If I have another drink, I’ll need a derrick to hoist it up. Only so much the little blue pills can do.”

    I T WAS two in the morning when Johnny silently let himself out of Jeff’s room. At least, he’d said his name was Jeff. Without searching his wallet for a driver’s license after Jeff passed out, there was no way to know, and Johnny didn’t care enough to do it. He would never see this guy again, and if their paths did cross, he had a strong suspicion Jeff was used to looking the other way when he ran into a one-nighter.
    Johnny was beginning to feel as though he’d led a very sheltered life before tonight. First the gay bar and then the desperate way Jeff dove onto his cock. The man was starving for dick, almost as if he hadn’t seen one other than his own in a very long time. Johnny had never even gotten his jeans past his thighs the whole time they messed around.
    Jeff had sucked him off twice and in between times, he’d said enough for Johnny to realize that, for some, the closet was darker and lonelier than he could have imagined. He’d sucked Jeff off, feeling it was only fair to reciprocate, but it was quick. Johnny got the feeling Jeff didn’t do this often and that when he was traveling for business was the only time he indulged his impulses. He felt sorry for Jeff. He had a feeling there was a story there, even though the man hadn’t been that coherent about his life and why he was in a gay bar if he was married.
    After going back to his own cheap little motel room, Johnny lay awake for a while, grinning in the darkness when he thought about what Vern’s reaction would have been to his staying out that late on a work night. If Johnny thought it would put a rider or another bullfighter in danger, he wouldn’t have done it; that’s all, he thought defiantly. Still, it was something he probably should be careful about in the future. He didn’t want to be an isolated gay man going from one trick to another in every city he went to. He carefully didn’t think about Cody at all.
    The sky grew light before he rolled over and finally fell asleep to a weird dream about Jeff and Zane going at it in the middle of the dance floor at the club.

Chapter 11:
Bobby Blue Eats Dirt

    S TANDING at the