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

a ton of lead. Too late, he’d waited too long. He couldn’t even be mad at Rory for giving up—God knew Chance would have just stopped after the first rejection and—Christ. Hadn’t the younger man had a gullet full of rejection lately?

Max leant on the door frame and tipped his head. “Seems to me ya’d pretty much be a fool to leave him be, if you’ll excuse me for sayin’ so. But maybe someone oughta tell ya—

and you’re gonna catch flies.”

Chance snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, narrowing his eyes at the wiry man before him.

“What are you talking about, Max?” Chance kept his voice low and flat.

Max just rolled his eyes and snorted. “Jesus, boss, it’d take a dead man not to feel what’s bouncing back and forth betwixt the two of ya. I ain’t one of those…I don’t care who does…damn it!” Max’s cheeks were burning red, but Chance thought he got the picture.

“Just, go before ya both do something that can’t be taken back already.” Max reached out and nudged Chance, and that was all it took. He didn’t want it to be too late, and he wouldn’t let either of them screw this up any further.

Rory sat at the bar nursing his beer as he glared at the young man sitting beside him.

Petite, curly black hair with large aqua eyes that sparkled and full lips that would look beautiful stretched around his cock. The man was as close to perfect as anyone Rory had ever seen—and he did absolutely nothing for Rory. Not even the image of those red lips opening wide could get so much as a twitch from his cock, damn it. None of the men who’d come by trolling had interested Rory no matter how much he wished it otherwise.

It just pissed him off in every direction.

“Not interested, Jesse. Go away.” The growl in his voice only seemed to pique the delicate man’s interest. He reached out and stroked a fine-boned hand up Rory’s thigh, only stopping when Rory slapped at the offending appendage to knock it away.

“Oh, come on now, I bet I could make you interested real fast. You’ll feel a lot better once you’ve… Hey, my name is Justin, not Jesse.” A frown marred the smooth perfection of Justin/Jesse’s brow. “You won’t forget it after tonight.”

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

33

Rory just stared at the other man. Was this how he’d made Chance feel before he’d backed off? No wonder he’d pushed Rory away—this was damned annoying. He almost fell off his barstool when a delicate hand brushed over his cock and grasped firmly.

“Hey, you’re not even hard. Are you sure you’re gay?” Justin looked genuinely confused.

Rory reached down and pried the hand from his groin, not caring if he hurt the man at this point. He’d had enough of being groped. Aqua eyes grew big as dinner plates as Justin tried to free his hand. Guess he’d squeezed too hard, but maybe that would teach the man to keep his hands to himself.

A strong hand grasped Rory’s chin, pulling his head up and around, startling a gasp out of him. He had just enough time to hear a rumbling, “Damn right he is,” before his mouth met Chance’s with a bruising force of teeth and tongue.

Now that had his dick trying to burst through the seam of his jeans. The hand that reached down to rub Rory wasn’t soft or fine boned. Nothing about the man eating away at his mouth was soft. Rory groaned as his dick was rubbed harder and his lower lip sucked and nipped.

“Fuck. Oh my God, you two are so fucking hot!” Justin’s voice sounded way too close, and when Chance finally lifted his lips from Rory’s, it was to glare at the dark-haired man.

Justin had got off his bar stool and sidled up against Rory’s knee—where he was even now grinding his prick. A vision of his old dog Skit trying to hump visitors’ legs flitted through Rory’s mind just about the time that Chance grabbed a handful of Justin’s shirt and pulled him around to where the cowboy was standing. Rory watched the older man lean down and whisper something in the delicate man’s ear.

Whatever it was, it lit a fire under Justin’s ass. He cast a wary look at Chance and Rory before turning away and disappearing onto the crowded dance floor. Rory turned back to Chance, wanting to ask what exactly he’d told Justin but he didn’t get a word out before he was being kissed again, Chance’s tongue fucking deep into his mouth and drawing a groan from Rory that he felt in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, but the man could kiss. Chance lifted his lips and stood staring down at Rory.

The desire burning in his searing brown eyes sent a spike of heat straight to Rory’s balls then quickly shot up his cock, seeping out in a spurt of wet heat. The scent of pre cum hit Rory—damn, but he needed. He closed his eyes, trying to get his unruly cock under control.

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

34

A sharp inhalation and a hand gripping his biceps had his eyes flickering back open.

Chance was staring at the growing wet spot and his breath was coming in jerky spasms, which Rory’s lungs strived to emulate. With a quick move, Chance plopped Rory’s hat on his head—he hadn’t even realised it had fallen off.

“S’go,” Chance growled, then he was holding tight to Rory’s hand and leading him to the exit of the bar. Rory followed along willingly, but a little niggling part of him was scared to death. He’d never felt like this for anyone, never felt like he had to have them or die. It was extreme, overpowering, and completely irresistible.

He had questions—yes, sir, he did—but there was no way he’d ask and risk bringing this to a screeching halt. Maybe, after he’d come two or four times, he would