Justin Taylor was eighteen years old and had experienced a privileged life amid the vast terrain of Colorado.  Ever since he could remember he resided with his wealthy family on their huge ranch, with a bounty of livestock and the most magnificent, well bred horses. 

The day his father accidentally discovered that he was gay, however, was the day that Justin was disowned.  It had been the final straw after years of disagreements and antagonism between him and his narrow minded elder. 

When Craig Taylor had caught his son kissing the dark, beautiful stable boy Manuel, he was alarmingly appalled.  The older man's face had become an ugly, twisted mask of rage.  His fists had been clenched tightly by his sides readying to unleash his obvious disgust with his son's offensive lifestyle. 

Manuel had been smarter than Justin.  The young Mexican took off the minute he saw Craig's shocked expression when he had unexpectedly entered the stables, stumbling upon the two of them in a compromising embrace.  Although Manuel knew that he may never see the gorgeous blond again, he had fled because he feared for his life.

Alone in the confines of his bedroom, Justin reflected upon his childhood.  He had never been able to measure up to Craig Taylor's expectations. On the other hand, he had always suspected that his mother knew the truth about him, yet loved him unconditionally.  Hadn't she defended him on more than one occasion when his controlling father would chastise him for being "soft"? 

So, on that fateful day, Justin hadn't been completely surprised when his mother flung herself in front of him to keep his father from beating the crap out of him.  He knew that he would forever be grateful for her love and the way she had boldly stood up to his father. 

Afterward, Jennifer Taylor had begged him to stay.  However, he realized he could not live under the same roof as his father anymore.  Especially after the man had made it very clear that he would no longer consider him his son, if he continued to engage in his so called "deviant" behavior.  Since Justin had no intention of stifling his blossoming sexuality, he wisely decided to leave. 

It was when he was busy packing his things some time later, that three thugs barged into his room.  He sensed immediately their intent was to harm him, so he fought back with all the strength he could muster.  They overpowered him unfortunately and he was knocked out.  Next thing Justin knew, he was tied up and lying on his side in the dirt. 

Before they realized he was conscious, Justin overheard the men talking.

"Brian's gonna have our hide."

"Yeah, well tough shit.  What were we supposed to do?"

"You know how Brian can be real ornery when we don't follow his exact orders."

'Brian,' he repeated to himself.  Justin assumed that it was the name of the man in charge, the one who had orchestrated his kidnapping.

Just then, a scraggly looking cowboy realized that Justin was now alert.  He quickly informed his accomplices and they forced Justin into a sitting position.

Justin cringed at their rough handling.  His entire body ached from their tangle earlier. 

"Uh oh.  Here he comes.  You explain to him, Tom.  You're his cousin after all, he probably won't hit you."

"Thanks," Tom snapped, visibly annoyed.

A lone figure dismounted from his ride.  Justin squinted trying to get a better view, since the blinding sun made it impossible for him to see clearly through the haziness of the heat.  As the man they called Brian drew nearer, his blurred outline now took on distinct features. 

Justin's heart started racing when he immediately took inventory of the pronounced jaw, bronzed flawless skin and broad masculine shoulders.  He had never seen a more perfect specimen of a man.  Justin assessed that it wasn't just his physical beauty that captured your attention, it was the way he held himself.  He exuded an aura of confidence and raw sexuality. 

Brian rattled off some orders before he approached his captive.  Focusing his attention on the young man, their eyes locked.  Brian had never seen someone with blue eyes the shade of Justin's.  They shined with defiance.  As if that wasn't enough of an enticement, he drank in the boy's tussled sun kissed hair and his rosy lips that were pressed together in contempt.  Brian had an unusual urge to reach out and run his fingers through the honey wheat strands, but he refrained. 

He had heard the rumors about Craig Taylor's first born being queer.  At the time, he hadn't given it another thought, but now a little voice inside his head was screaming for it to be true.

Brian commanded Justin to rise to his feet.  When the boy stubbornly made no attempt to move, he signaled his men to hoist him up.  Brian smirked as his eyes slowly traveled over the willful young man in front of him.  He had an inkling that he was going to enjoy being Justin's captor. 

Brian's brows suddenly furrowed when upon closer inspection, he spotted a drop of blood in the corner of the young man's mouth.  Then he saw a yellowish bruise that was beginning to show on his cheek.  Shit!

"What the fuck happened?" he demanded.  "I thought my instructions were that he was not to be touched."

"He tried to fight us off.  We had to do something to get him under control," Tom spoke up.

"Very well.  Now go get him washed up and then bring him to me."

"Yes sir," one of the other men said. 

Justin was led away by two men.  Brian tried hard not to look, but he indulged his curiosity, glancing at the boy's retreating form.  Those couple of seconds were enough to create a lasting effect.  Justin had a nice build for his age, with the most perfectly firm, rounded mounds.  It promptly caused a wave of desire to flash hotly through Brian's groin. The boy was the personification of temptation for a man like him.  

Fuck.  Double fuck.