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His white chaps hung from a silver studded belt, but he wore no pants or shirt. His muscled arms were bare as he unzipped the black leather safety vest, letting it hang open over his naked chest while he danced. Trey caught the shadow of dark nipples on Smoke’s chest when the vest flapped open.

At first Trey thought it was denim shorts framing Smoke’s awesome bulge in the front, but when he turned around—fuck!—they were cut off to hell and back. The front was no bigger than a thong cradling Smoke’s package, but at the back the legs were cut so high they curved around each perfect asscheek, making them look even rounder. Two dark moons winked in a white sky of chaps.

The rough fringe of white threads hanging down from the shredded denim fluttered with every movement as Smoke planted his feet and thrust his hips so vigorously his buttocks shook and jiggled at the delighted crowd. Perfectly on beat, Smoke rotated in a circle, bumping and grinding to give the entire arena a chance to ogle his fine behind. Only Smoke would have the guts to do that.

He was beautiful, but more than that, Smoke was riveting onstage. No one could look away from him. The sheer charisma and joy of his personality was big enough to fill the entire venue. Everyone was on their feet dancing along with him and egging him on. Smoke’s thighs bulged with muscle, honed from years of riding. His taut stomach rippled in time to the music as he danced.

Trey realized he was laughing also, responding with delight to the exuberance of Smoke’s performance. He was up on his feet, clapping in time to the music as the men in the audience roared encouragement when Smoke flexed his muscular asscheeks invitingly over the frantic movement of the shiny blue fringe edging the white chaps.

The music was barely audible when Smoke’s dance ended and Miss Demeanor cried out, “One more time! Let’s hear it from the ladies this time!”

The Rainbow Drag Queen Cheer Squad came running out into the ring and lined up on either side of the cage with Smoke in the middle. They started a ragged cancan, and Smoke jumped down to join in, raising his legs high in perfect time as if he’d been practicing the routine with them for years.

“Your boyfriend is nuts!”

Trey staggered from the blow Dolly landed on his back, but he grinned at her anyway, glad she’d recovered enough from her funk to come out and catch this.

“Get out there, Trey!” Alex shrieked. “You can’t let him get all the glory.” She tugged at his shirt buttons.

“What? No way.” Trey tried to dodge her but was handicapped out of respect for her manicure. He had to admit it looked like fun out there, and a part of him was dying to join in.

Giving up on his cooperation, Alex ripped his shirt open, popping all the buttons off to expose the beautiful sequined bra Trey was wearing underneath. The bright pinwheel of fuchsia and orange sequins came to a point at the nipple and terminated in a handsome set of four-inch tassels. His protective vest had smashed the cups in, but Alex yanked both tassels out to pull the tips back to a point.

Trey tried to pull his shirt closed, but Alex had already opened the gate and shoved him out into the ring, his torn shirt hanging from his shoulders. “Drop it like a rocket until you shock it, Trey-baby!” she screamed.

When he saw Dolly’s eyes widen as she caught sight of his bra, he realized what Alex was trying to do. The smile that broke over Dolly’s face made his eyes sting, but the indigo drag cheer queen had come to assist him into the ring, by force if necessary, judging by her determined grin. She delivered him to Smoke and pushed him up onto the cage with both hands, pinching his ass to boot. Smoke jumped up after him and started shaking his booty again.

Miss Demeanor screamed, “Let’s make some NOISE for these boyz!”

Something inside Trey busted loose. Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. A feeling of freedom came over him, just like being on top of a bull. He wanted to go for it, no holds barred. He never tried to be the center of attention, but watching Smoke dancing up a storm, all hips and shimmy, suddenly Trey wanted to get him some of that too. Trey ripped his shirt off and twirled it in the air, and he pumped his hips in time to the music before he let it fly. Then he busted out his best dance moves, sliding his hands down his sides as he swayed his torso seductively.

By now Smoke was gasping for air, but he shouted, “Show ’em what you got, gurl!”

Trey twisted around to give him a backhand slap on the ass with his free hand. “Nice rear window!”

“Check out the front door,” Smoke shouted back. He swiveled his hips and hooked both thumbs in his belt to frame his prominent bulge with his fingers.

The drag queens circled the cage in an impromptu conga line, leaving them to free-form it in the center and catch their breath.

Smoke clapped his hands in time to the music and chanted to Trey. “You got it, you strut it, you flaunt it what you got it, babe. Work it now, werq it!”

Feeling as if he was channeling some of Smoke’s easy charm, Trey went a little crazy and boot-scooted in his jeans and sparkly bra under the spotlights. The circling drag queens made him a bit dizzy, but it felt so damn good to let it all hang out for once. At least he could be sure his brother Jamar and his family wouldn’t be watching any channel that might broadcast gay rodeo.

Miss Demeanor shouted over the music, “Drop and give me fifty, cowboys! They are loving the show here in OK City.”

Immediately Smoke dropped to the platform and started a set of push-ups. After a second Trey dropped down to face him, grinning as he matched Smoke’s efforts, although it wasn’t easy buckled into a damned, sequined harness. Watching the tassels of his bra sweep the ground was equally disconcerting and gave him new respect for Alex.

“These boys are giving me cowboy realness, and I am liking what I see. Throw us a bone, cowboys. Oh, and be sure to throw it my way!”

Smoke was running out of steam and Trey was starting to sweat from the effort, but adrenaline and the drive to win juiced him. Finally Smoke collapsed dramatically onto the platform with a comical groan. Ostentatiously, Trey went ten better, doing the last two with only one arm. Then he jumped to his feet and gave Smoke a hand up.

Smoke came up grinning. Probably because he knew most of the men in the crowd would be more than willing to lick the dust off his sweaty chest.

“Boys, didn’t anybody tell you the Drag Race doesn’t start until tomorrow? Will somebody please get those naked men out of my arena?” Miss Demeanor cried out. “And then just kindly hustle them directly into my dressing room for later. Clear the ring, ladies, we’ve got a lovely demonstration of trick riding from Jaycee Andrews to give us a big send-off. Have a great night and see you all tomorrow!”

The drag queens formed a conga line once again, feathered headdresses waving and high-heeled sneakers flashing as they kicked. Smoke jumped down and fell in behind them. Trey followed, grabbing Smoke’s hips, the flex and release of the firm globes of Smoke’s ass mesmerizing him as he followed the line out of the ring.

Even as he felt the rise of desire, Trey couldn’t help looking around for Rowdy Stetson. This would be the perfect time for the twink to make a move on Smoke and latch on to some notoriety.

The drag queens gathered around Smoke, laughing and copping a feel, but Trey hung back, fading into the background again. The way Smoke connected with people was something he admired, although it sure wasn’t him.

A metallic flash alerted him to gold lamé hot pants on a slim white body topped with a King Tut headdress. Rowdy Stetson made a beeline for Smoke, wiggling his way through the crowd of drag queens. Exaggerated eyeliner and mascara made his blue eyes look bigger and dewier. The Egyptian theme was spoiled only by black fishnet hose and gold stilettos. Trey had to wonder how exactly Rowdy was planning to rodeo dressed like that, but it wasn’t any of his business.

“You were wonderful out there!” Rowdy put his hand on Smoke’s bare chest.

Smoke laughed and wriggled away from him. “Thanks, Rowdy. Gotta get under cover now. Excuse me, ladies.”

“Bye-bye, Smoke,” the drag queens chorused, and waved their hands in unison as if in a pageant.

Trey growled under his breath when he saw Rowdy following Smoke, completely forgetting his own getup until a tall white man passed by and pinched one empty cup. “Beep, beep! You look awful purty in that there bra, girl,” the man said with a smile.

“Thanks!” Trey laughed but decided this was no time to lounge around backstage in women’s undies, even though it had been all fun and glamour in the ring.

He’d expected to find Rowdy in the locker room, getting an eyeful as Smoke changed, but Smoke was alone.

Smoke wore only a towel wrapped around his waist, and drops of water beaded on his chest signaled that he must have already taken a shower. When he saw Trey, Smoke shook his head. “Can’t believe you beat me for the round, T-man. They only gave me 87.25. And for a ride like that!”

Trey shrugged and grinned. “Guess they liked my bra better than your assless chaps.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it, what with their X-ray vision.” Smoke stared at the bra. “Great colors for your skin tone. Alex must have picked it out. Dolly could never have put that together.”

“Of course she did. You thought I packed a bra for the trip?” Trey twisted to reach the hooks at the back and struggled to release them. “Just on the off chance I might want to wear one?”

“Well, this
is
the gay rodeo. Think the owner will mind all the dirt you got on it showing off with those push-ups?” Smoke pulled on a pair of jeans.

“Not if she’s a gay man. She’ll probably stuff it as a trophy, hang it on her wall, and tell the story of the one that got away for years.” Trey tilted his chin at the white chaps hanging in Smoke’s locker. “Doesn’t it kind of chafe to ride with no pants?”

“Hey, it’s only eight seconds if I’m in luck, less if I’m not. I can take a little chafing for that short amount of time.” Smoke stamped into his boots and propped his feet one at a time on the bench to pull the legs of his jeans down over the boots. “Not that I was planning to make a permanent wardrobe change for future rides.”

“It’s not luck, it’s skill.”

“Riding takes both luck and skill.” Smoke stood with his hands on his hips, eyeing Trey’s nipples when he finally managed to get the bra off.

Trey rubbed his ribs. “Damn thing is scratchy. Don’t know how those queens do it every day.”

“Don’t take Dolly’s bets, then.”

“She lost, you know.”

“But the rest of us won.” Smoke laughed. “It was nice of you to wear it. Think Dolly got it?”

“She got it.” Trey swung the bra around by the strap. “She knows I wore it because I really thought she could ride that bull. She will one day.”

“You two go way back, don’t you?”

“We were in school together. She was bigger than me in the second grade and stuck up for me on the playground.”

“No way.”

“Way. I was slow developing. Short and skinny until I reached middle school.”

“Well, you filled out nice since then.”

“Thanks.” Trey hesitated to take off his jeans. He felt shy with Smoke standing there looking at him. Weird, because they’d seen each other naked any number of times, but it was different in the secrecy of their room. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the locker room, where anyone might walk in, it felt riskier, although most people at a gay rodeo wouldn’t blink if they caught them in a clinch.

Suddenly Smoke turned on his heel and went for the door. “I’ve gotta see a man about a horse. Catch up with you later.”

WHEN HE
was dressed, Trey came out of the locker room and looked around. No Smoke, but Dolly was there, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, looking down at her boots. She was evidently waiting for him, because she straightened up when she saw him.

“You sure made a damn fool of yourself out there.”

“Don’t get all sickly sweet with gratitude now.” Trey glared at her.

“Nice to know I got someone in my corner with Alex,” she said gruffly. “Thanks.”

“It was nothing, Dolls.”

Dolly shrugged. “Okay, I won’t thank you. Even though you were prancing around in a sequined bra where God and everyone could see you, I still didn’t make the eight.”

“I could get you there if you let me.” Trey almost took her hand, but this was Dolly. She wouldn’t appreciate it. “Seeing as I won the bet this time, we’re going down to the Double Diamond tonight and get a practice session in, right, Dolly?”

“What, and skip the Hoedown Showdown square dance and chuck wagon?” Dolly nodded vigorously. Trey knew how she loved big gatherings. Not. “Sounds like a great idea to me, but Alex wants to dance and….” She shrugged.

“They have good grub and music at the Double D, and I’m sure she’d love to watch you ride.”

“Oh yeah, tons of joy for her,” Dolly grumbled, but she smiled. “Where’s Smoke?”

Trey grunted. “Said he had to see a man about a horse.”

“Oh yeah, he did mention something about buying some stock.” Dolly started walking down the hall toward the arena.

“When did he say that?”

Dolly looked at him in disbelief. “I assume when he asked you to take the train here. We picked up your ass at the train station because you didn’t drive up, remember? Aren’t you helping him drive some stock to his place after the rodeo?”

“Oh. Right.” Trey followed her silently.

“You know, he could have asked us. We live down his way. Would’ve been no trouble, but instead he asked you. Know why?”

“Can’t imagine.”

Dolly heaved an exasperated sigh. “You thought he was out dogging that little blond boy, didn’t you?”

Trey shrugged. “None of my business.”

“Sure it’s not. Men.” Dolly shook her head. “You’re all hopeless.”

“Oh really? And what would you do if you were me?”

Dolly laughed uproariously. “If you need me to tell you how to do it, you’re not doing it right. Totally different plumbing.”

“God, with friends like you—”

“I keep you on your toes.” Dolly waved when she spotted the circle of drag queens with Alex as the animated center of attention. “That’s my girl, always the life of the party.”