Flex McMahon (MM)

Cowboy to Cowboy 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 27,934
2 Ratings (3.5)

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Cowboy Romance, M/M, HEA]

Flex McMahon was devoted to Sanchez, his boss, until discovering that the man killed Flex’s best friend and lover. Now Sanchez wants Flex to marry his daughter. Flex leaves for a new job on the Tillman Ranch, which is staffed by gay cowboys. He thinks he’s found heaven until Sanchez comes after him and takes his dog, Lope.

Eamon Campbell falls in love the minute he lays eyes on the handsome new ranch hand, but Flex isn’t looking for commitment. Getting romantically involved with a coworker, even an irresistible Irishman, isn’t another complication he needs in his life. But just as Flex realizes that his feelings for Eamon might be deepening, Sanchez comes to town with a plan to get Flex back under his thumb.

What hold does Sanchez have on Flex? Can Eamon save the man he loves from marrying someone else and abandoning his new life?

A Siren Erotic Romance

Flex McMahon (MM)
2 Ratings (3.5)

Flex McMahon (MM)

Cowboy to Cowboy 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 27,934
2 Ratings (3.5)
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Cover Art by Harris Channing



Eamon Campbell was as unhappy as he could be.

“Quit your whining, Eamon,” Jeremy said without heat. “Take a few days of ease, eat everything in sight—which is one of your favorite pastimes anyway—then get back in the saddle. Two days, three tops.”

Eamon sat up straight on the couch he was laying on. “See, that’s what I mean. Two or three days. And when the three days are up, then it’s four.”

“You don’t know that. The doctor said you’ll be fine with a few days of rest.”

Eamon flopped flat onto his back. “Fuck me.”

The door opened and a dark-haired stranger strolled in. Eamon propped himself on his elbows to get a better look. Blue-black hair framed a narrow face and neck balanced on top-of-the-line shoulders. Narrow hips, long legs and scuffed boots. Just my speed. And here I am, down for the count.

“Howdy,” Jeremy said.

The stranger held Eamon’s look a moment longer then turned his attention to the Foreman.

“Name’s Flex. I just hired on with Langley.”

Jeremy nodded. “Told me to expect a Timothy McMahon.”

“It’s Flex McMahon. Like I told your brother, I’ve been Flex longer than I was Timmy.”

Eamon was impressed by the almost undetectable sneer Flex smeared the name Timmy with. But Eamon detected it. Who wouldn’t, with a name like Eamon in a country full of Bills, Bobs and Georges.

Unperturbed, Jeremy nodded. “Flex it is.”

“Langley said you’d assign me a bunk and show me around. I’ll be moving in first thing in the morning.”

“No problem.” Jeremy turned back to Eamon. “Rest. Relax. Two days.”

Eamon, now embarrassed at being exposed as the weakest one in the room, sneered. “Run along, Jeremy. You have work to do.” He could have bit his tongue off right then, but Langley looked back at the newcomer then back to him stretched out on the couch. And grinned. “Yes, sir.”

Jeremy gestured to Flex. “This way, I’ll show you your room.”

“Uh, I hired on as a hand. A bunk’ll do me.”

“All the hands have rooms,” Eamon said. “Tillman’s different than most ranches.”

Flex shifted his gaze to where Eamon lay with one knee raised. A tingle of lust stabbed Eamon’s belly. Flex’s eyes weren’t just dark, they were violet. Like a masculine version of Elizabeth Taylor. A super-masculine version. No plump teenage cheeks or sleek, refined nose. No. Flex was all hard angles and all man.


“So I hear,” Flex said.

“He’s right, you know,” Jeremy said as he led the man down the hall.

Eamon leaned over to check which direction Jeremy took him. Leaning further out he watched until he saw Jeremy take the left-hand hall. My hallway. He leaned out a little further to catch a glimpse of the new guy’s backside. Nice. Slender cheeks below a strong back.

“Oops.” Eamon half slid off the couch but caught himself with his hands before he planted a facer in the carpet.

“Crap. I’m clumsy even on my back.”

A motion down the hall caught his attention. Flex peeked around the corner as if he’d heard him. Propped with his hands on the floor, Eamon could only return Flex’s look. With a tilt to his head, Flex followed Jeremy’s voice and disappeared from Eamon’s sight. Shit. Only I could twist my ankle coming off my horse and act like a horse’s ass in front of the best-looking man I’ve seen in a long, long while. And all this, boys and girls, in the space of twenty-four hours.

He sighed heavily. Pushing himself back on the couch, he propped his head on the couch pillows Jeremy had stacked for him. He hoped his ankle was better soon. The doc had said it wasn’t a bad sprain, but Jeremy would be the one to decide when he could mount up and ride again.

His life on the ranch was the best life imaginable. The poverty he’d left back home was a distant memory that nothing would ever erase. The money he sent over every month went to feed his brothers and sister, and his mother. The sheep were on their own. Soon his younger brother would emigrate, hopefully find a place on the Tillman, and send part of his pay home, too. If he had to beat the little urchin into doing it. He grinned. He’d never lay a hand on Struthan mostly because they shared the Celtic name disaster. Love his mother, and she loved her Celtic names.

I wonder who saddled Flex with that nickname? Not his mother. She came up with Timothy. Tidhg in Celtic.

“I think I’ll wait until I know him a little before I call him Tidhg.”

“Call who what?” Jeremy said as he returned to the entertainment room.

“Uh, the new dog.”

Jeremy looked askance at him. “You’re gonna call Langley’s new dog Tid-ghe?”


“Dog’s name is Buck.”

“Langley has a new dog?” Flex asked.

Jeremy glanced at Flex. “A friend of his got married and the wife already has a dog.”

“So?” Flex asked.

“Buck’s a Shepherd-Rottweiler mix. The wife has a Pomeranian.”

The three men looked at each other. Jeremy chuckled, Flex grinned, and Eamon almost fell off the couch again he laughed so hard. Flex reached a hand down to help pull Eamon back on the couch. At the touch, they both froze.




In the face of an erect cock, ringed by thick red curls, Flex knew he’d lost. Or won. Whichever. He was going to get fucked and he was going to fuck the pale, white ass of the Eamon the Irishman.

“Come over here.”

Eamon grinned and stepped up in front of Flex. Without a word, he went to his knees and gently tugged the towel down and off. Flex watched his own cock spring free. It jutted into the air in front of Eamon’s mouth, his heavy and regular heartbeat visible in the veins encircling it.

The man on his knees stuck his tongue out and touched it to Flex’s cock, making it jump. Eamon lapped at it again. He tongued the underside and licked his way back to the base. Flex startled when Eamon cupped his balls then sucked one of them into his mouth. He hissed and thrust his hips forward.

Eamon made an encouraging noise. He lifted his face and took the cock in both hands. Then he proceeded to swallow the damn thing, one inch at a time. When his lips were settled firmly at the base of Flex’s dick, he inhaled through his nose and pulled back quickly, applying even pressure along the way. He took it all back, deep in his mouth, before pulling away again. Flex bent his knees and thrust slowly in and out of Eamon’s tight lips keeping time with the sucking motion. He groaned deep and low.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned the Irishman.

Eamon released Flex’s dick and spit in his hand. Before Flex could straighten his knees, Eamon’s mouth returned to sucking his cock. Without warning, Eamon shoved two wet fingers deep inside Flex’s ass. With a shout, Flex came in Eamon’s mouth so deep he could feel his throat swallowing his cum. His breath sawed in and out while Eamon licked him clean.

Flex didn’t know what to do next. Should he suck Eamon off? Fuck him? What? Eamon was no help. He still knelt at Flex’s feet smiling up at him.

“What do you want?” Flex asked finally.

Eamon ran his hands up the outside of Flex’s legs and came to rest on his hips. “I’d like to make love to you.”

“Didn’t you just do that?”

Flex watched as Eamon’s gaze came to rest on his almost flaccid penis. It still glistened with Eamon’s spit. Eamon smiled. “No. I sucked your cock,” he said reverently. He ran a finger along the shortened length of his cock. “Your very impressive cock. It felt good inside me last night.” He reached forward and gave Flex’s cock a kiss.

Flex felt a stirring in his testicles. He wanted to feel the Irishman’s rough red hair pressed against his asshole. He wanted to feel it stab into him from behind. He wanted to grab onto it with the powerful ring of muscle of his own ass. But Eamon was too submissive. He’d probably slip in and slip out and be done.

“I don’t need a pussy fuck. I don’t like some namby boy poking at my asshole. I need to know someone’s actually there.”

The grin took Flex’s breath away. Eamon came to his feet and wrapped a hand around the back of Flex’s neck. He came in for a kiss which Flex evaded easily. The hand tightened in his hair. He was slowly turned around and guided to the chair.

“Grab hold, Flex. Of the chair. Then bend over. And move your feet apart. I want to see your hole before I take it.”

Eamon’s grip was tight enough to almost cause pain. Flex placed his hands on the chair and bent from the waist. He slid his feet apart.

“Open your ass for me,” the Irishman said in his deep brogue.

Flex reached both hands behind him and grabbed the cheeks of his ass. He spread them open. He felt Eamon lean back for a good look. Flex’s dick started to harden again. He slid his fingers close to his asshole.

“Open it.”

He pulled his asshole open.

Eamon grunted. Flex felt the head of Eamon’s dick at his asshole. He pushed back and captured the head. It was big, just how Flex liked it. He’d noticed the size of the kid’s cock earlier but had been too busy—

The hand in his hair tightened painfully at the same moment he felt Eamon’s cock slam inside him.

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