DISCLAIMER: You are about to read a story that is strictly FAN FICTION and in no way represents true accounts. I do not - nor do I wish to imply that - I know Jake Gyllenhaal, his private life or his sexual preferences. This is also true of all other celebrities represented in this story. This is a work of fiction based in homo-eroticism, so if you are not of legal age, or if this type of content might offend you, please move onto something else.
For everyone else - ENJOY! -------------------------------------------------------------------- Just to let you all know, I've created a group page for Jake's Cowboy: http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalChronicles/_whatsnew. It's brand new, still being fine-tuned, and I'm inviting all interested parties to come check it out. May plan is to post sneak peeks of my story there, as well as provide an open forum for members to share ideas/thoughts/suggestions and maybe even participate. So come share your own story, offer input for Jake's Cowboy, or just chat. There are no boundaries.
As usual, I can still be reached via email at avymac@hotmail.com and - as usual - I love to hear from everyone, so drop me a line!
And now, onto Part 7 . . . --------------------------------------------------------------------
By early afternoon, Travis had already spent a significant amount of time demonstrating snowboard techniques with me. And although my skills were definitely improving, I still couldn't help but feel a tinge of frustration with my inabilities, especially when Travis was so incredibly good at it. Several times throughout the day, I found myself standing in awe, watching him glide effortlessly down that mountainside as if sliding through a halfpipe on a skateboard - as if it were as natural to him as breathing. Out of pure instinct, I forced myself to disregard the burning ache in my calves and lower back in order to further stretch my limits, needing to prove something to him even though I knew damn well that we weren't in competition with one another.
Travis offered lessons to Katy, as well, and together she and I shared the role of snowboard pupils. Several times throughout the morning she and I held decent conversations, joking and bantering, pestering one another like siblings. Her propensity to flirt with me, however subtle, was still evident, but the intensity had waned a bit, and I actually found her bearable to be around.
It was well past two o'clock when we finally took a lunch break, dumping out the snack cooler to quickly devour everything in sight. I was more than relieved for the reprieve by then and slumped down onto the open tailgate of the pick-up truck, grimacing slightly. I wolfed down my turkey sandwich and gazed at the giant fourteener mountains in the distance, their peaks swathed in a ring of clouds. Thought to myself - it's just as beautiful here as everywhere else.
After several minutes of eating, Katy dumped her half-eaten sandwich into the cooler and jumped to the ground. Said, "I must find myself a tree," and wandered off to climb a slight incline where the trees were thicker. Before disappearing, she playfully called over her shoulder, "Try not to miss me too much, boys . . ."
To which Travis replied, "We'll certainly do our best."
After she was gone, he looked at me and said, "She certainly seems to be behaving herself today. Surprising."
I nodded, chewing my last bite of sandwich. "Yeah," I said. "She's been pretty good." I saw no point in telling him otherwise; it had been too nice of a day, and for the most part Katy really had been behaving herself.
Travis was leaning against the rear tail lights of the truck but then pushed my legs aside to sit beside me. He finished off his apple, tossed the core into the open cooler, and then proceeded to gulp down a bottled water in about five seconds flat. I drank from my water as well, and then Travis nudged my arm, pointing upwards. I lifted my gaze to see two huge hawks flying in circles overhead, their massive wings gliding effortlessly on the breeze.
"Wow," I said. "That's unexpected." I laid back against the truck bed, draping an arm across my eyes to shield them from the sun, watching the majestic birds continue to dip and rise in perfect formation just yards above us.
My reverie was soon disrupted when Travis slid a hand onto my thigh. I shifted my gaze to meet his, watched him for a moment, and then grabbed his jacket sleeve, muttering, "Come here," yanking on him until he came toppling down over me. I ripped my sunglasses off my face and pressed my lips to his, gripping his shoulders tightly. He fully reciprocated my kiss, easily sliding his tongue into my mouth, plucking the wool beanie from my head so that he could snake his fingers through my hair.
The slick fabric of our nylon jackets rubbed together, and I pulled him closer, lifting my hips to grind up against him. Then I shoved a hand down to cup the thick bulge in his pants and pulled my face back long enough to whisper, "Before this day is over, Cooper, I'm gonna service this thing again."
For once, I was successful at embarrassing him; color rose to his cheeks immediately, making him look young and timid. He smiled, shook his head and replied breathlessly, "Anything you want, Gyllenhaal."
We came together again, kissing fervently, and then Katy returned from the trees. As we separated I saw a look of anger and jealousy covering her face, and I braced myself for an outburst that never came. She said nothing, just took her snowboard and walked away. This ability to control her emotions impressed me; perhaps she truly had managed to mature by a small fraction since the morning.
Travis and I put the cooler away and then joined Katy on the slope. Our snowboarding continued, but we no longer bothered ourselves with proper technique - just had a good time with it. Although I stumbled and plummeted several more times, it didn't disappoint me nearly as much as it had earlier in the day. Maybe I, too, had matured a fraction since the morning.
Eventually, I excused myself to wander off into the trees for a much-needed piss. As I was climbing up into a large clump of douglas firs, my cell phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket, flipped it open and said, "This is Jake."
Maggie laughed on the other end. "I know it's you. What are you doing?"
"Hoping to take a piss," I replied. "What are you doing?"
"Peter and I are antique shopping in town with Travis's mom."
"So you're feeling better?" I sat down on a tree stump, trying to ignore the pressure in my bladder, shifting the phone to my other ear.
"Like brand new. How's the snowboarding?"
"I suck."
Maggie giggled, cupped her hand over the receiver to say something to Peter. Then she got back on and said, "Peter wants to know if you broke anything."
I laughed. "No. Tell him he's the only gimp in the family."
"He's not in the family yet!" she exclaimed, and I could hear Peter mumbling something to her, trying to take the phone away.
"Hey, listen," I said, my bladder ready to explode. "Can I call you back?"
It was Peter who answered. "Sure thing, babyface."
"Okay, asswipe," I chortled. "I'll see guys you later."
"Sure thing, dickwad."
"Hey, eat shit, piss brain."
"Likewise, fuckface."
We both laughed, said goodbye, and disconnected.
I was now desperate to relieve myself and so shoved the phone back into my pocket to open the fly of my pants. Stood there, holding my dick, humming a nondescript song while happily spraying yellow patterns of urine into the untouched snow, when the sudden crack of a tree branch startled me, causing me to turn my head.
Katy was almost directly behind me, her pink and white jacket unzipped to reveal that she was topless and wearing only a black satin push-up bra underneath. Before I even had time to react to her presence, she slid her arms around my waist and took my exposed cock into her hands, panting, "Just let me get you off."
There could be no denying that having her hands - anyone's hands - on my dick was arousing, but I quickly came to my senses and disentangled myself from her, stuffing my cock back into my pants.
"Jake," she breathed, coming at me again. "I'll do anything you want."
I slapped her hands away. "Stop it, Katy."
"Ah, come on!" she pleaded. "Travis doesn't have to know! I can be quick." She dropped to her knees in the snow, pawing at the front of my pants, trying to undo the velcro strap of my fly.
I grabbed her wrists, much tighter than I'd intended to, and this caused her to yelp. I hoisted her back up to her feet and said, "Stop it, Katy, before Travis comes up here."
"He won't come!" she insisted, trying to pull free from my grip. "Just give me a couple of minutes!"
I stared hard at her, my jaw clenched tightly, the struggle to remain civil with her quickly fading. And then all sense of control completely halted when she spitefully exclaimed, "You're just another one of his little conquests anyway!"
I swallowed. Choked back fury. Spat, "Fuck! . . . Why do you keep doing this to me, Katy?" I shook her by the wrists. "Can't you get it through your goddamn skull that I don't WANT this?"
The look on her face was pure insolence, her green eyes defiant, her rosy lips a thin line. She said, "He'll turn you, Jake. He'll turn you and leave you, just like all the others."
We stared hard at each other. "Why do you keep talking shit, Katy?" I demanded. Realized that I was still grasping her wrists in a vise-hold. I exhaled loudly and released her, and she stepped back, rubbing at her wrists.
"Travis uses people, Jake," she said in a small voice. "He turns them, uses them, and then dumps them."
I hooked my hands on my hips, looked to the ground, shook my head. "He's not using me, Katy . . ."
"He uses everyone," she insisted quietly, then turned and walked away, struggling to zip up her jacket while stepping over tree stumps and branches.
I watched her disappear through the maze of trees but remained standing there, her words lingering in the air . . . 'He'll turn you and leave you, just like all the others' . . .
What was her point? That Travis had turned straight men gay? That he'd had lots of lovers before me? If she thought I hadn't guessed that already, she was ever more ignorant than I thought. Travis's past sexual encounters didn't affect at all how I felt about him; if anything, they only further fueled my desire.
There was one thing I was certain of concerning this liaison with Travis: it wasn't a question of him 'turning me' - it was a matter of me choosing to explore another side of myself.
And Katy had to get accept that, whether she wanted to or not.
Our drive back down the mountain began in absolute silence, with Katy brooding in the back seat . . .
When I'd first returned to the truck after the pissing debacle, Katy had been nowhere in sight and Travis had sat in the open doorway of the cab, smoking a cigarette. Although he'd surely sensed something, he'd asked no questions, just offered me his cigarette in some sort of silent understanding. I'd been grateful, and we'd shared the cigarette until it was finished, occasionally exchanging short nicotine-flavored kisses. Then Travis had suggested that we head back to the ranch; by then the sun was already starting to set, and the temperature had begun to drop considerably. Together, we'd loaded the snowboarding gear back into the bed, changed into our regular boots, and then climbed into the cab. We'd waited for the heater to kick on while listening to Eric Clapton on the radio, our bodies leaning into one another.
When Katy still hadn't appeared after ten minutes, I'd offered to go in search of her. But Travis had refused to let me go, choosing instead to rev the engine several times while honking the horn, continuing to do so until Katy finally descended from the trees. She'd said nothing as she'd slid into the back seat - just rested her head against the window in silent sulking.
Now, I scooted lower in my seat and propped a boot up onto the dashboard, absently watching the remaining snow melt and drip down from the rubber sole. Then I slid a hand into the crook of Travis's thigh, letting it rest there - nothing sexual, just wanting to touch him, to feel the connection.
The sun dipped behind the mountains, and through drowsy eyes I watched cirrus clouds flame into hues of orange and red across the horizon. "I'm really gonna miss this," I whispered, finally ending the silence.
Travis glanced at me. Took a hand off the steering wheel long enough to give my fingers a quick squeeze. "Hey, don't look so glum," he said. "Colorado's not going anywhere."
"Hmm . . ." I absently tugged at the shoelace of my boot, looping the thick cord around my forefinger, my thoughts drifting off. "Maybe I can make it back here again soon . . . I don't know . . . I've got this movie that I need to do re-shoots for when I get back, plus scripts to review . . ."
"You're a busy guy," Travis stated.
I nodded slowly, still entranced by my boot lace. After a moment I said, "Have you ever been to California, Travis?"
"Once," he replied. "Las Vegas, for a rodeo about a million years ago."
"Ever been to the ocean?"
He hesitated a moment. I looked up and sensed uneasiness in his profile, his eyes staring at the road ahead as if searching for an answer there. Finally, he replied, "Yeah."
"Yeah? Pacific or Atlantic?"
Again, hesitation. When he spoke, his voice sounded strange, constricted. "Atlantic."
"East Coast, huh?" I said. "Where?"
" . . . Boston . . . "
"Boston." I sat up a little, tried to envision him there. "Seems like an odd place for you, were you on vacation?"
He appeared to retreat into himself, like a turtle disappearing into its shell. His voice became uncharacteristically solemn, distant. "Sort of," he said quietly.
Katy shifted in the backseat. Retorted scornfully, "Yeah. Right. Sort of."
I ignored her. Chose instead to watch Travis's expression falter as an almost painful physical reaction to my questioning overtook him. Although a voice inside my head screamed at me to stop, I allowed my curiosity got the better of me. "Were you with your family?" I asked.
He shook his head, still staring straight ahead. "No."
"By yourself?"
"No."
His short, staccato answers bothered me.
"Well, who did you go there with?" I asked.
I noticed white knuckles as Travis gripped the steering wheel. When he finally looked at me, his green eyes were flaming with irritation. "I was with a friend," he replied, his voice clipped.
Friction that hadn't been there five minutes ago wedged itself between us, and I felt instant regret for being such an ass. I opened my mouth to apologize, but Katy cut me off by saying, "Oh yes, a friend. Indeed. Just like I was telling you about, Jake. Remember?"
Her voice aggravated me beyond all reckoning. I shut my eyes and commanded myself to breathe deeply, and then I dropped my boot from the dashboard to sit up and face her. "Katy," I said, "I'm not going to go through this again with you, okay? Fucking cut the bullshit, right here, right now, and fucking let it go. All right?"
Her eyes grew wide; I don't think she'd expected me to rebuke her that way in front of Travis. But I was far beyond feeling the need to be polite with her any longer. Slowly, she nodded her head, pouting slightly, looking all of about twelve. I said, "Good, thank you," and turned back around in my seat.
When I glanced at Travis again, he was suppressing a grin, his demeanor instantly changed. He was obviously pleased with my response to his sister; perhaps he'd secretly hoped for it all along.
I was relieved to know that the tension I'd caused by peppering him with questions had faded. I scooted closer to him - as far over as my seatbelt would allow - and said, "Hey, I'm sorry." He nodded, and I rested my hand on his thigh once more, traveling deeper.
"Shit," I said after a moment. "I sure could use a bottle of tequila and a hot tub right about now."
Travis grinned again. Glanced over at me. "Will a beer and a bathtub do?" he said.
I smiled. Slid my hand further down the curve of his inner thigh. "Sounds like heaven to me."
The bubbles in Travis's clawfoot tub swirled and popped around me as I slid inside, the scalding water offering instant relief to my tired muscles. Had this been a day spent skiing back in Aspen, I would have been lounging in the outdoor hot tub by now, basking in the massaging jets while sucking down several hot toddies. But, after a day spent snowboarding in Buena Vista, immersing my tired body in the bubble bath of Travis's clawfoot tub while drinking beer was certainly the next best thing.
I sighed deeply and rested my head against the slanted backside of the tub, shutting my eyes so that the steam could penetrate every inch of my partially-sunburned face. My calves, thighs, lower back and abdomen writhed in a slow burn to remind me yet again of just how inexperienced I was at snowboarding; I'd been fooling myself to think that I was actually any good at it. But Travis's instructions had been helpful, and for that I really was grateful to him.
I propped my arms on the rim of the tub and sat back, gazing up at the showerhead, watching occasional droplets of water drip down. Soon a recollection of my early morning shower drifted into view - of the distinct images of sex with Travis that had sent copious amounts of my cum down the drain. Was it possible to be more turned-on by thoughts of Travis than by anyone else I had ever been with? More than any of my secret fantasies had ever allowed?
"You should have experimented with this shit long ago," I mumbled to myself, recalling the countless times I'd felt anxiety in the presence of a good-looking man - the constriction in my throat, the stirring in my groin, the sudden desire to touch and be touched. Why had I refused to acknowledge it? Was I really so homophobic that I couldn't face the truth?
I thought about my role as Jack Twist - about wanting to take on the role in order to extend myself, to challenge my skills, to stretch my limits as an actor. But in retrospect, hadn't it also been a subconscious ploy to face reality? There had been several times during the filming process when I'd stepped away from scenes with Heath having to hide an unwelcome erection. Whether anyone had noticed it or not, I couldn't be certain - no mention of it was ever made to me. But each time it had happened, I'd quickly retreated to my trailer to jack-off. I don't even think it had been Heath I'd fantasized about - just some faceless man.
After that, despite a certain amount of self-loathing, I'd begun to have man-on-man fantasies fairly frequently . . . even when fucking Kirsten or the other women who had slipped in and out of my life during our on-again-off-again relationship. Perhaps Kirsten had sensed my confliction. Perhaps that's why she'd claimed I'd never find what I was looking for.
Well, ultimately, she'd been wrong . . . Discovering Travis in that all-night diner had been the crux to discovering myself. And now, whether I was ready to accept it or not, nothing would ever be the same in my life again.
From behind the closed bathroom door I could hear Travis moving about the room. He'd put on some godawful honky-tonk music and was singing along to it, horribly off-key and not the least bit concerned about it. Hearing him made me chuckle, and I scooped up my third beer to finish it off. After I drained the bottle I belched, long and low.
Apparently, it had been loud enough for Travis to hear. He cracked open the door and poked his head inside. "I heard that."
I grinned. " . . . 'Scuse me."
"No problem." He pulled the door shut again, and I felt a sudden hollow ache, as if the simple act of him shutting the door symbolized a much greater impedance.
"Travis!" I yelled, much louder than I'd intended.
Within seconds, he cracked open the door to peer at me again. "You okay?"
"Get in here." My voice was sharp, insistent.
"What . . . now?" He held a small smirk on his face, his hair falling playfully across his forehead. He was dressed in a simple gray t-shirt tucked out over a pair of carpenter jeans, his feet bare.
"Yes," I commanded. "Now."
"You're supposed to be relaxing," he stated.
"I can relax much better with you in here." I tapped the top of the water with my fingers, sending a slight spray of bubbles into the air.
He smiled, face crinkling. "All right, give me a second." He stepped away but left the door ajar. I could hear him shuffling around, clinking glasses, opening and closing the wood-burning stove, changing the music on the stereo to something more suitable. A minute later, he returned, carrying two shot glasses and the bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Ready for some harder stuff?" he asked, setting everything down on the toilet lid.
"That depends," I replied. "Are you referring to the whiskey or your cock?"
He laughed and started to undress. I saw that he was wearing no underwear, and this caused an almost immediate hard-on. I shifted in the tub, sending a short wave of water spilling over the edge.
Travis had a remarkable body, lithe and muscular, shoulders broad, hips thin, ass perfectly round. The hair that covered his chest was sparse and blonde, almost invisible, and this was true for the rest of his body as well, including his pubic hair. His cock was long, even in softness, and hung down between his legs, swinging like a pendulum with each movement he made.
I reached out a hand to touch his thigh, suddenly wanting to get out of the tub and pounce on him . . . wondering how in the hell I had ever acquired such an insatiable desire for this man.
Travis poured two rather generous portions of the whiskey into the shot glasses and handed them both to me. Then he coaxed me to move forward a little so that he could slide into the tub behind me. Although trying to be careful not to spill bath water, some of it splashed down onto the tiled floor anyway. It took us a moment to adjust ourselves - Travis with legs spread, me nestling back against him, the bubbles popping and floating all around us.
I handed Travis one of the shot glasses, and he thanked me and lifted it forward as if in a toast.
"What are we toasting to?" I asked.
"Hmmm . . ." He paused to contemplate. "How about - to snowboarding, Miles Davis and new friendships?" It was a repeat of the toast we'd made only just yesterday - a toast that now seemed like a lifetime ago.
"No," I said, shaking my head. "To Miles Davis maybe. But definitely not to snowboarding . . . and I think we're way past friendship at this point."
"You're right," he said. "So, you choose."
I mulled this over for a moment, trying to think of just the right phrase, something which would encompass everything. Finally, I said, "How about - to life's unexpected pleasures?"
"Hmmm," he muttered, " . . . I like that." He clinked his glass with mine and in one quick swallow we drank the whiskey down.
We each had one more shot, and then Travis plucked the empty glass from my fingers and set it, along with his own, back onto the toilet lid. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against him, his hands clasped across my belly. "I want to tell you something," he spoke softly.
"Something obscene, I hope," I said, placing my hands over his.
"No, nothing obscene. Yet." I felt his lips graze the tip of my ear, and then he sighed, shifting slightly, causing the water to slosh around. "A year ago I went to Boston with a guy named Eric. He'd spent the summer here on internship for an animal husbandry program and we . . . well . . . hooked up."
"Travis, you don't have to tell me -"
His finger touched my lips, silencing me.
"Things didn't work out between us, obviously," he continued. "In fact, they got pretty ugly. We were only in Boston for a week and he showed me a side of himself that I didn't like. Anyway, Katy never forgave me for the relationship. She'd had a huge crush on Eric all summer long, and the fact that he'd wanted to be with me instead of her completely devastated her. It didn't matter that she was only fifteen and Eric was in college - for her, it was the end of the world. She'd never minded that I was gay before, but . .. . when it came to 'stealing' one of her boyfriends, she was pretty resentful. When I came back from Boston, pissed off and heart-broken, she was completely unsympathetic. Treated me like crap for a long time. Still treats me like crap sometimes. We do our best to get along, but . . . I don't know, she's still a kid, maybe I can't expect much else."
His words stirred me. I thought about my own relationship with Maggie. "You're her brother, Travis," I said. "Someday she's gonna have to get over this jealousy thing."
"Humph," he muttered, kissing my ear again. "Not with you around to remind her."
"Aw, man . . ." I sighed, grabbing tight to his hands. "I'm sorry about that . . ."
"God, don't be!" he insisted, hugging me tight enough to expel the breath from my lungs. "You being here is the best thing that's happened in to me in a really long fucking time. You're like . . . a breath of fresh air, Gyllenhaal."
I swallowed hard. "Yeah," I whispered. "It's like that for me, too." I reached a hand up to pull his head down, twisting my face around so that my lips could reach his. His tongue was immediately warm and inviting, and I opened up to him, my neck craned at an uncomfortable angle. Then I slid around to face him directly, my knees slipping along the bottom of the tub as I struggled to gain ground. Travis met me halfway, sitting forward, and our mouths clasped together again in a sloppy kiss.
Once more, Travis cupped my jaw in his hands, drawing me in, and I knew without a doubt that that was one of the things I was going to miss the most about him: the feel of his strong hands on my face.
After a moment, he pulled away and looked at me, his thumbs rubbing slowly along the rough stubble of my jaw line. "Your beard's already growing back," he commented.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm cursed with it. It's why I let it grow."
"I like you either way," he whispered, and pulled me in again.
Our kissing started out gentle but quickly turned passionate, our lips hungrily sucking, the bath water smacking up between our chests as we shifted together in the tub. My breath grew heavy, and I plunged a hand down into the bubbles to take a hold of Travis's cock, discovering it to be fully erect, waiting for me.
I pulled my face back and panted breathlessly, "I fucking want this, Travis. I want it in my mouth right fucking now . . ."
He groaned slightly. Released me from his embrace and hoisted himself up to lean against the back of the tub, perching himself there, his long, hard cock exposed and covered in tufts of bubbles. Without hesitation, he grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack and wiped himself off, then held his cock in his fist and breathed, "Come here."
My mouth was on him in a flash, my lips encircling the swollen head of his shaft, my tongue flicking across his piss slit, the slight flavor of bubble bath mixed with his pre-cum sparking my taste buds. Travis placed a hand on my head, exhaling loudly, encouraging me on. I was much more relaxed this time around; no longer felt trepidation over what I was doing. I still couldn't deep-throat him, but it didn't matter; I knew that I could bring him pleasure regardless.
I started lightly playing with his balls, hefting them in the palm of my hand, feeling their density. He began to breathe deeply, his head resting back against the wall, his eyes droopy as he looked down at me, his fingers entangled in my damp hair. I could feel his whole body tense as he restrained himself from pushing me down farther on him.
I began to suck his cock with more urgency, my mouth riding up and down as far as I could take him in, my lips slipping over the head to travel down, feeling the pulsing veins rub against my tongue. My own cock was near explosion underneath the water, and I quickly plunged a hand down to stroke myself, wanting to reach climax along with Travis.
I could tell that he was mere seconds away from release. He mumbled, "Jake .. . ., " attempting to lift my face and pull himself free from my mouth. "Let me out now or I'm gonna -"
But I ignored him. Whether he was trying to protect me from having to swallow his cum, I didn't know, and I didn't care. I was determined to finish the job this time around.
When he ejaculated, a deep, guttural groan escaped his lips that sent shivers straight through me. The sensation of his warm, thick semen spurting into my mouth - coupled with the animalistic sounds of his grunting - stimulated me to the point of reaching my own peak, and my cock quickly exploded into my fist, sending a profuse amount of cum spewing into the bubbles. Travis bucked against the porcelain tub, continuing to ejaculate into my mouth; I struggled to swallow as much of him as I could, not wanting to miss a single drop, some of it dripping out anyway to slither down my chin and plunk into the bath water below.
When it was all over, the two of us were left panting and shaken, struggling to recover from the intensity. After a moment, Travis slid back down into the water to embrace me. He kissed the sunburned tip of my nose, traveled down to my lips, and then stopped at my chin to lick the remaining cum from my stubble.
"Shit," he whispered. "That was well worth the wait, Gyllenhaal."
I was still panting, still trying to regain my composure. I leaned forward to press my forehead against his, my blue eyes gazing into his green.
"Listen," I said, running a knuckle down his cheek. "I'm pretty sure that there's a lot more that'll be worth your wait, Cooper." I kissed him briefly, all inhibition gone from me now. "A hell of a lot more."
-------------------------------------------------------------------- Brokeback Mountain copyright 1997 by Dead Line, Ltd. / 2005 Focus Features LLC --------------------------------------------------------------------
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