Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance by Bailey Bradford (poetry books to read txt) 📗

was something else he didn’t want to examine too closely. Must be a day for unwanted revelations.

Now, to see how the boss man wanted to play this out. He was sure it would be interesting.

Chance closed his eyes briefly, and in the space of a breath went from angry to composed. It was a fascinating change done so rapidly that Rory couldn’t help but be impressed. When those dark chocolate eyes opened again and latched on to Rory, his cock gave a sudden jerk he was sure couldn’t be missed—and this time he wasn’t going to try to hide it. Boss man could deal. The heat that snapped back into Chance’s eyes had nothing to do with anger. When he finally met Rory’s eyes, Rory merely tipped his head in acknowledgement— Yes, sir, boss, all for you.

“No.” Chance was shaking his head like he’d heard Rory’s thoughts. Rory just arched a brow and waited—after all, he wasn’t the one who’d demanded this little chat. He took note of his boss’s knuckles turning white as the man gripped the edge of the desk. Maybe he needed a push.

“No?”

A sharp shake of his head and Chance was looking angry all over again. “No. None of…” He tipped his chin down in what Rory assumed was supposed to be the direction of his engorged cock. “That. None of that.”

Rory didn’t know whether to laugh or snarl. He danced the tips of his fingers over his groin. “You mean this? My dick? None of it what?” Be damned if he was going to let boss man speak without saying anything.

Chance’s cheeks went ruddy. “You know what I mean! I don’t mess around with RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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employees or…” He gestured at Rory in frustration, hand flapping through the air before landing on the arm of the chair. “Pretty young things.”

“Didn’t ask you to, sir.” Not out loud, at least. The boss’s dark brows drew together and that fluttering hand came off the arm of the chair to point a finger at Rory.

“Then what was that little show you put on outside?”

Rory shrugged. “Wiping sweat off before it could run in my eyes? That was a show?”

Chance opened his mouth, looking madder than nine hells, but Rory wasn’t going to let him get all indignant.

“You were watching, boss, you had been all morning. What’re you hiding under that desk, right now?” That shut the man right up. Chance’s full lips disappeared into a thin line.

Yeah, they both knew what he was hiding under that chunk of oak.

“It doesn’t matter. You work for me, you’re too…” The boss shook his head and kept glaring at Rory.

Alrighty, then. Rory stood up and strolled over to the desk.

“Too young and too pretty? Right? That’s your hang up, cowboy, not mine. Just so happens I’m into older and cantankerous, just this once, though God only knows why.” Rory slapped his hat back on his head and left Chance sitting there, mouth dropped open like a blowup doll.

Later that evening Chance stumbled into the shower, aching in places he’d never even known existed. He felt a moment of smugness at having managed to remain aloof any time he’d had to deal with Rory throughout the day—and just like that, a simple thought of the man’s name, and a particular part of himself that he was very familiar with became the most throbbingly painful part of his anatomy.

“Fuck.” Chance glared down at his cock, trying to decide if he was more irritated or amused with the way it sprang to life so easily. Amazing, really—Rory was the equivalent of a huge dose of Viagra. Chance shuddered at that thought. No matter how sexy Rory was, comparing the man to anything relating to erectile dysfunction was a tad messed up.

He stepped under the shower, letting the hot water pound away at his sore muscles.

The way the water slicked over his body, glistening and shimmering, made Chance flip RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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through half a dozen images of Rory working in the heat earlier, sweat soaking his skin and tormenting Chance with a need to touch

“Freakin’ ridiculous.” And it was. Every time the younger man had deigned to look at Chance, it had been with distance and nothing else in his gaze. Apparently Chance had obliterated anything the man had felt for him, which just fit in with the perception that Rory was too young. Or too fickle.

Sighing, Chance tipped his head back against the shower wall. Maybe all the lack of interest in the younger man’s gaze meant something else that wasn’t Rory’s fault. Could mean Chance was an asshole who’d been cruel and judgmental and once Rory saw that, his desire to fuck his boss dried up and blew away.

Whatever it was, it also meant there was no one to help with the erection that refused to go away on its own. Groaning, Chance finally gave in to the need for release and fisted his dick. Giving up the battle, he let images of Rory wash over him, gliding over his skin in a heated need that stole Chance’s breath at the same time it sent fear-tipped goose bumps skittering over his body.

He’d never wanted anyone like he wanted Rory, and that want scared him as much as it scorched him. He wasn’t even able to keep the man’s name from bursting from his lips when his orgasm ripped through him. All Chance could do with that realisation was stare stupidly as the water washed his semen down the drain.

Rory managed, just barely, to keep himself in check around Chance for the next two weeks. No teasing glances, tempting the other man with provocative poses, or removing his shirt when the older man was around. Hell, they’d even sat down in the office again and worked out the salary issue, all