All of the Voices by Bailey Bradford (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📗

“Fuck, honey, tighter, jerk me harder!”

Matt cracked his eyes open enough to see Carlin’s fierce expression, his brow furrowed and a grimace twisting his lips as he rode Matt even faster. Matt stopped worrying about gripping Carlin’s dick too tight—the man would have no problem telling him if he did so. He grasped the fat stalk and stroked. Carlin screamed and hunched over as cum sprayed onto Matt’s hand and belly. Matt’s dick was squeezed so hard he couldn’t thrust as Carlin came.

Sharp stinging pain speared out from his nipple and Matt shouted, Carlin’s bite sending him over the edge. Matt arched into the pain as universes collided, setting off a brilliant explosion of white lights that blurred his vision, turning it into a haze of bright flashes.

Matt slowly came out of his orgasm-induced lethargy to find himself covered by Carlin’s hot, limp body. His softened cock slipped from the tight confines of Carlin’s ass, drawing a moan from him and a whimper from Carlin.

“I should get up and get a cloth or something,” Carlin rasped sometime later. Matt tightened his arms around his lover and nuzzled his soft blond hair.

“Later.” Right now he just wanted to hold Carlin while he could.

* * * *

Matt woke up to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. A glance at the alarm clock showed it was almost eleven p.m., too late for anyone to come visiting. He carefully slid from the bed as Carlin mumbled incoherently and curled up on his side. Carlin’s normally stylish hair was sticking up all over the place as a result of them collapsing into bed fresh from a round of shower sex. Matt had bemoaned the fact they only had one condom, but Carlin’s talented mouth had quickly sucked the disappointment right out of Matt.

Whoever was outside started pounding again, and Matt cursed quietly as he dug some shorts out of his dresser. If they woke Carlin up with that racket, Matt was going to make them regret it. The poor guy was exhausted, and no wonder with the shit he’d been through, not just the past few weeks, but for the past several years. Matt couldn’t imagine having his only parent suddenly becoming schizophrenic. He wouldn’t even wish that on his dad, not that he knew who that was. His mother had never been willing to fill in that blank on his birth certificate. Shelly’s either, for that matter.

Matt pulled up his shorts and darted out of the room as his front door was pummeled again. “Fucking hell, this better be an emergency,” he snarled as he unlocked the dead bolt and pulled the door open—to find his mother and Shelly standing on his porch gaping at him. Matt glanced down and winced. Carlin liked to bite and mark his skin, and Matt damned sure liked to let him. Most of the places on his chest that weren’t too furry were smattered with purple bruises.

“Shit!” Matt slammed the door and twisted the deadbolt then ran back to his room. Carlin was sitting up, rubbing his eyes as he yawned.

“S’mthin’ wrong?” Carlin asked in a thick, sleep-tinged voice that Matt’s dick ardently approved of.

“My mom and sister are here,” Matt huffed as he found the biggest T-shirt he had. “I kind of opened the front door without a shirt on.”

Carlin blinked, his confusion evident in his expression. “Whas…what’s that got to do with anything?”

Matt finished poking his head through the hole but held the hem of the shirt up as he faced Carlin.

Carlin blanched, his already big eyes widening even more. “Oh. Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” He paled even more as the pounding on the front door resumed. “Are they usually so…persistent?”

Matt pulled the T-shirt down, pleased to see it covered his erection. “Nope. I figured they’d hear that you were here with me. Probably the neighbors called Mom when I didn’t take you home early enough for their nosy asses. Fucking gossip mill is unbelievable.”

Carlin looked so miserable Matt had to give him a quick hug. “It’s fine. I know the way this town works, and I don’t give a damn who knows that I want you.”

“But—”

“Nope,” Matt snapped. “You’re not gonna get to feel bad about this. I’m the one who brought you here, I’m the one who asked you to stay, and I’m the one who knew the consequences.”

Carlin started to crawl out of the bed. “But you have to live here. I don’t want people making your life hell over this.”

“I choose to live here,” Matt corrected. “And people can’t give me what I refuse to accept. Come out if you want to, or stay in here. Whatever’s easier for you. I best get the door before they tear it off the hinges.” Despite the confrontation he knew was coming, Matt smiled and winked at the stunned looking man in his bed.

He hoped Carlin would stay in the bedroom, not because Matt was ashamed—he wasn’t—but because he didn’t want to add to his lover’s already heavy load of guilt. And Carlin would feel guilty, because Matt was pretty sure he was about to lose the only family he had.

Chapter Seven

Carlin sat in the booth at Virginia’s café, cradling his downturned head in his hands and wondering if he could fuck up anyone else’s life while he was in McKinton. The scene last night at Matt’s house had become ugly fast, and frankly, Carlin was shocked at the accusations and insults Matt’s mother and sister hurled at him and Matt, but especially Matt.

What kind of parent called their son a sick bastard who deserved to burn in Hell? That was the screeched insult that had sent Carlin hurtling into the living room dressed only in a pair of Matt’s pajama bottoms. Carlin had run right into a slap from Matt’s sister that had set his ears to ringing. And the situation had only gone downhill from there.

“You’re looking pretty glum.”

Carlin lifted