Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance, Bailey Bradford [best pdf ebook reader for android .TXT] 📗

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

24

Chapter Five

Rory caught Chance sneaking glances at him off and on all day. No doubt he’d got the man to wondering—soon enough the wondering would turn into a fully-fledged a-ha moment—then the fun would really start. Rory was tempted to cackle evilly and rub his hands together just to watch Chance’s back snap ramrod straight, but that would be a dead giveaway and he much preferred drawing out the suspense as long as possible. It would make the prize that much sweeter.

Rory made sure he was standing in Chance’s line of vision when he tossed the last feed sack into its place. He kept his head casually averted and pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his sweaty face. So the older man thought Rory was too young and pretty, hmm?

Well, he’d give Chance a reason to correct his thinking, or at least view him in a different light. Rory pulled the shirt up higher, making sure his eight-pack was out there as well as his pecs and nipples…which happened to be pierced.

If the groan he heard was any indication, he’d been successful in diverting Chance’s attention from anything other than his body. Rory turned his back to the man before he lowered his shirt, because a glimpse of his back piece might just draw out another stifled sound. It did, and Rory had to keep his back to Chance since he couldn’t tamp down his grin.

This was too much fun. Rory had never been a cock tease before.

“You about done here, Rory?” The gravelly sound of Chance’s voice, breath tickling the back of Rory’s neck, nearly had him jumping before he could stop himself. Sheer willpower pushed the sound back down his throat although he couldn’t do much about the startled twitch.

“Looks like it’s all unloaded to me, sir. I mean, Chance.” That really was a nervous slip, but Rory found it hard to be sorry when the man bristled with indignation so splendidly. The heat between them ratcheted up a few notches higher—if this kept up, they might have to worry about spontaneous combustion.

A growl from Chance was all the warning Rory had before he was grabbed by a shoulder and pulled around to face the other man. He didn’t have the time to school his expression into one of casual amusement. No, when he faced Chance it was with a hot, RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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hungry look and a cock hard enough to hammer nails.

“Office. Now.” The clipped order wasn’t even all the way out before Chance was eating up the ground with long-legged strides—and Rory was hot on his heels, eyes glued to the perfectly rounded ass that flexed with each step. Jesus, this walk was going to kill him, stop his heart any time now.

Rory’s cock throbbed painfully as he watched Chance take the porch steps. There simply couldn’t be a more perfect sight than that ass, unless it was one of said ass bare and flexing, pushing to pump those trim cowboy hips…

The walk through the house to the office passed in a blur of potent need and bunching muscles. Rory pretty much decided he’d follow his boss anywhere as long as he could keep his eyes on that tight denim-clad bubble. The man was fine from top to toe, but his ass…that particular part just defied description. Disappointment soared through Rory when they reached the office and Chance turned around. Well, but that was a damn fine view, too.

“Take a seat.” The boss man turned his back and Rory‘s spine stiffened almost as much as his cock. Chance was rolling free with the orders. Yeah, he was the boss, but if an order didn’t make sense Rory had no problem questioning it.

“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind. I’m kind of sweaty and don’t feel like sticking to the leather, or sliding off of it, either.” Rory would have tried to smile, but every part of him was tense and hard. There was so much blood rushing south that his lips felt numb.

Chance turned on him, stepping into his personal space, just a hair’s breadth away from brushing their cocks together. Rory could feel the heat rolling off Chance—the man was like a walking furnace.

A hard hand smacked into his chest as Chance walked Rory three steps backwards and shoved, sending him into the chair in an undignified sprawl. His temper spiked, but when he looked up and met Chance’s furious brown glare, he tamped it back down.

The older man was on edge—anger and sexual tension pouring off him so thick Rory could smell it. If he thought provoking Chance would end in fucking, he would have seriously considered it—though an angry fuck wasn’t what he was after.

However, the clenched fists and tightening across his boss’s face and shoulders pretty much assured Rory that any physical contact between the two of them would not be of the enjoyable sort. He made certain to take a quiet calming breath once Chance turned his back and walked to his desk. Rory also carefully schooled his features into what he hoped was an RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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expressionless mask. He didn’t want Chance to see anything there that might give the man cause to fire him, or, even more likely, something that would spook Chance. Watching the stiff, jerky movements as Chance reached his desk and pulled out the worn chair made Rory feel better about controlling his own temper. Maybe a little smug about it, too, though he didn’t want to examine that too closely.

When the other man finally looked at him, Rory didn’t flinch or blink. The slight flaring of Chance’s nostrils was a tell for the increasing anger the man was feeling, and for some bizarre reason, Rory found that small movement erotic as hell. Jesus, was he going to develop some weird-ass nose fetish now? When had he become so cracked? There