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

Every thought fled in the midst of such pleasure. Rory let his head fall back and rest on Chance’s shoulder, the harsh grunts coming from the older man feeding Rory’s need. He pressed his ass back as much as he could, wanting to feel every bit of Chance’s cock inside him.

He reached behind him and grabbed Chance’s ass, squeezing and moaning as the man fucked him harder and faster. Rory’s cock was leaking pearly white gobs everywhere—he couldn’t even think about it because everything in him was centred on the feel of Chance filling him, owning him and marking him with each thrust.

The harsh grunts from Chance grew louder, frantic. Rory didn’t register that the man was saying ‘soon’ over and over until Chance grabbed Rory’s cock and tugged hard, using his other hand to pull at the left nipple ring. Rory screamed, his balls drawing tight, then Chance bit into his straining neck and the scream turned into a strangled sound as Rory’s vision dimmed and he came, thick bursts of spunk spewing free.

His muscles spasmed and his ass clamped down hard enough that Chance’s dick was trapped in the tight confines of Rory’s channel. He felt Chance’s entire body shudder violently, felt hard fingers dig into his chest painfully—but more than anything, he felt the throbbing of Chance’s cock deep in his ass, felt each pulse as hot cum poured out in thick streams inside him. Nothing else existed in the moment other than that.

Rory’s muscles unclenched and Chance made a garbled sound that could have meant anything, though Rory was pretty sure in this case it meant the man had fucked his brains out. God knew Rory’s were shot to hell. Chance locked his arms around Rory and pulled him down and onto their sides, still buried deep in Rory’s warmth.

They lay for long moments, Chance holding Rory and Rory’s hands on top of Chance’s.

Rory thought he should probably say something, but he didn’t know what. He wasn’t used to anything other than a five minute fuck, really, more of a ‘drop your pants and take it, pull

‘em up and get back to work’ type of thing. He worried for a few minutes, afraid action or inaction would mess up everything that had just happened between him and Chance.

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

50

It wasn’t until Chance jerked slightly that he realised the man had fallen asleep, still holding Rory in his arms. Right or wrong, Rory would take it. He closed his eyes and let himself feel wanted—the part of him aching to be loved was shoved deep down and locked away. Rory knew he was lucky to get this much from anyone, and especially from a man like Chance Galloway.

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

51

Chapter Nine

Maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t used to sharing a bed with anyone, much less a man as sexy as Chance, that had Rory’s eyes cracking open, his mind sputtering to explain to himself why he was in an unfamiliar room. The press of a warm body against his sent the answer screeching into his head, memories of Chance taking him, fucking him until Rory'd thought his heart would stop from the pleasure of it… Yet as good as that had felt, the present situation, sharing a bed with his lover, who was draped over him like the best sort of blanket, was even better. It was so…intimate. And Rory felt safe, protected, which was ridiculous given his size, but there it was.

He knew it was going to suck, having to get up and leave. Chance’s arms and strength offered a sanctuary Rory hadn’t even known he’d been looking for. But no matter how perfect and safe it felt, Rory didn’t go back to sleep.

Rory would have stayed in bed, cuddling—who knew he’d enjoy that as much as sex?—except he didn’t want Chance to think he was taking advantage. If anything, Rory would work harder to prevent Chance or Max from thinking he’d expect to get preferential treatment for banging the boss…or being banged by the boss. The last thing he wanted was trouble between Max and—

“Shit!” Rory sat up with a burst of panicked energy that dislodged Chance and nearly toppled them both to the floor. Rory looked for his clothes, spotting them in a rumpled pile near the foot of the bed. He lunged for them as he peeked at the digital clock by Chance’s bed.

Not quite 4:30 a.m. Good—if he hurried he might make it to the bunkhouse before Max woke up. If he didn’t, well, maybe the man wouldn’t see him coming out of the main house and would think Rory had just stayed out all night.

“Rory.”

It took a few seconds for it to register. Rory pulled up his jeans and spun around to face Chance just as the man eased off the bed.

“It’s all right, just calm down for a minute. Max knows—he told me I’d be a fool not to go after you last night.”

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

52

Rory froze, one boot on and the other in his hand. He tried to think about what that meant, but it only added to the confused mix of emotions he was already battling. Now he was awake and the sun wasn’t far from rising, doubts and fears were tearing at him. Rory didn’t know what Chance expected from him, not personally, and was afraid to ask if the man only wanted a night or, like Rory, something more.

He forced himself to move, to put on his boot and gather up the rest of his clothes, never looking at Chance. If he saw that distant look his boss had worn so often over the past two weeks, Rory was afraid something inside him might break.

“Rory, look at me, please.” Chance’s voice was warm and intimate, not the least bit distant.

Rory squared his shoulders and, clutching his belt and hat close to his chest, turned to face the man who suddenly had