Long Haul Love (Trucker Love #1)

Chapter One

There was a naked person running across the parking lot. Only they weren’t completely naked. They were wearing a pair of cowboy boots. Sparkly cowboy boots?

Brogan Myles closed his eyes and rubbed his face before opening them again. He knew it was early and he’d not gotten his usual eight hours of sleep, but he was beginning to feel like he’d woken in an alternate reality.

By the cock that flopped left and right as he ran, the person was a man, though that did not explain the boots. And he was naked as the day he was born. He held a pile of clothes clutched to his chest and had a bag of some sort slung over one shoulder.

He also looked terrified.

Brogan moved to stand in front of his truck and waited for the naked man to notice him. Only he didn’t. The smaller man seemed too panicked to notice anything.

Normally, Brogan would have just climbed in his truck and left since he had a full day of driving ahead of him and he wanted to be well away from this truck stop before dawn broke, but something about this man called to him. And not just because he was hung like a horse.

“You need some help, Hoss?”

he asked softly, knowing there were men sleeping in their trucks on either side of his.

The man squealed and turned his head to stare at Brogan with wide eyes. He slowed to a trot and angled to where Brogan stood. “Shit, you scared me. And yes, I could use some help, please. Where are you headed?”

Brogan hesitated a moment, wondering if this was a new ploy to rob a trucker. But since he was a foot taller and probably a hundred pounds heavier than this sweet man, he wasn’t too worried about it. The fact that he had a 9 mm tucked in its holster in the middle of his back added to his confidence.

A wolf whistle from farther down the line of tractor-trailer trucks had Brogan frowning. “How about you get in the cab and put those clothes on. Then we’ll talk.”

The man looked toward the truck stop’s main building once more before nodding. Brogan escorted him around to the passenger side and opened it.

“How do I?”

The man looked from the high door to him.

Brogan demonstrated how to climb up to the cab and then descended again. “Give me your stuff.”

The man hesitated only a moment before handing Brogan his clothes. He then quickly clambered up to the cab. Brogan was shocked when his cock came to life watching the man’s ass flex and contract. He was tempted to lean in and take a bite out of the round cheeks. But that was the last thing this man needed at this moment in time. He needed help, not to be propositioned. Especially since he didn’t know if the man was even gay, though the sparkly purple cowboys made him think he was.

A commotion across the parking lot drew his attention. Two men in black suits had just emerged from the building and were talking as they scanned the parking lot. No doubt looking at the man in his truck.

Handing the man’s clothes up, he said, “You can slide between the seats to the back and get dressed there, Hoss. Just push through the curtain. There’s a pop-on light on the left side wall.”

“Thank you.”

The man looked down and gave him a hesitant smile before disappearing into his home on wheels.

Brogan flipped the lock and then closed the door before doing an abbreviated walk around. It was time to get the hell out of town. As he opened the driver’s door, the two men were approaching.

They were big and built, though not as tall or broad as he was. They were also wearing slick, expensive looking suits while Brogan was in his work uniform of tan cargo pants and a burgundy Henley shirt with the 3 Myles To Go logo on the chest.

“Have you seen a man out here?”

One of them held his hand up. “About this tall with curly brown hair?”

Brogan shook his head. “Sorry, can’t say I have. He lift your wallet or something?”

The man shook his head and ignored his question. Turning to his partner, he started walking away. “Maybe he went the other way. Reymundos will kill us if we lose him. And if he doesn’t, the senator will.”

Brogan frowned as he climbed up and settled in the driver’s seat. Pulling the door closed, he hit the lock. Since the engine had been warming up while he did his inspection, it was ready to go.

“You okay back there, Hoss?”

****

Shepherd Stone stopped for a moment before he finished pulling his boot back on. How should he answer that question? That no, he was anything but all right? Or should he lie like he normally did and assure the big, burly trucker that he was fine?

After all, the man had just talked to the reason he ran across the truck stop parking lot naked. Being kidnapped from his father’s home and told his future would be that of a sex slave in South America made this one of the worst days of his life. The naked escape just added to the day’s humiliation.

Taking a breath, he lied. “I’m fine.”

By the other man’s grunt, the truck driver did not believe him.

“Are you sitting down?”

Shepherd had just stood up, but plopped back down on the queen-size bed once again. He was amazed at the comfortable mattress. Did all truckers have such nice accommodations in their trucks? If they did, he might be tempted to take up trucking as a living.

Maybe then his father would acknowledge his existence and not ignore the fact that he had a gay artist for a son. But after tonight, he had a feeling his father would not be talking about him at all. After all, he had sold him to a South American drug lord and human trafficker to keep him from screwing up the man’s reelection.

“Hoss? You sitting down or not?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Yes, I am sitting down.”

“Once we’re on the road, you need to move to the passenger’s seat and strap in, but for now it’s probably safer for you to stay back there,”

the trucker said as the truck began moving.

Yeah, that probably is for the best,”

Shepherd agreed as he pulled his jeans down over his boots and straightened his shirt.

He looked around and marveled at how much was tucked into the small space. Not only was there a queen size bed, but the small apartment-like area had a tiny refrigerator, microwave, and television. What surprised him was the calendar hanging on the wall opposite the television. Expecting to see a naked girl, the naked man with a half-hard cock on full display was surprising.

Was there such a thing as a gay truck driver?

Taking a breath, he tried not to think too hard as the truck turned left, then right, and then right again. Feeling the engine change as they gained speed and shifted to the left, Shepherd prayed he was in safe hands and had not just thrown himself out of the frying pan and into the fire. Or something worse.

“Pull back the curtain and come sit up here with me,”

the driver said a few minutes later.

Shepherd pulled back the curtains and tucked them behind metal hooks so they would remain where they were. Holding onto the two seats, he stepped between them, over the center console, and sort of flopped into the passenger’s seat.

He arranged himself so he was looking out the front window and pulled the seatbelt around, clicking it into place.

“Wow,”

he breathed as he looked around, taking in the dark night and the road ahead of them lit only by the truck’s headlights. They were alone on the road as far as the eye could see. And as high as the cab was, he could see for quite a ways.

“Okay, Hoss, let’s talk.”

The words sent ice racing through Shepherd’s veins though he knew the man who had just rescued him had every right to ask whatever questions he wanted. And Shepherd would try to answer them.

Shifting, he was surprised to find the captain type chair swiveled left and right. He studied the driver for several long seconds and found himself licking his lips at the big, burly man. His hair was dark, though he couldn’t tell in this light whether it was black or just a dark brown. His profile was strong, and from what Shepherd remembered, he had been handsome. His hands were big and looked strong as they held the steering wheel and guided them down the road.

In Shepherd’s eyes, he would be perfect, if he were, indeed, gay.

“My name is Shepherd. Shepherd Scott,”

he said to start the ball rolling. If the trucker did not want to get involved in the mess he was in, it would be better to find out now than a hundred miles down the road. Though in either case, Shepherd wasn’t sure what he would do. While he had his credit and debit cards, he also knew that his father’s people would no doubt have them tagged so they were alerted the moment he used them. For now, he needed to stay in the good graces of this big, burly road warrior.

“Brogan Myles. Co-owner-operator of 3 Myles To Go trucking company.”

Though he was terrified, not only of being thrown out, but also of his father’s men following them, Shepherd giggled. “Three Myles To Go, huh. Cute name.”

“My brother’s idea. He’s the real boss. My other brother and I are the drivers. Our names are just on the paperwork.”

Brogan chuckled as he held out his right hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Shepherd did not hesitate before shaking the man’s hand. He sucked a breath and felt his body tingle from nose to toes as an electric charge shot through him at the big man’s touch.

Brogan stiffened but continued shaking for several seconds longer than absolutely necessary. Had he felt it as well?

“So, Shepherd Scott,”

Brogan finally said once he broke the handshake and returned his hand to the steering wheel.

“Why were those guys chasing you? What kind of trouble are you in? What are you running from?”