Timothy (23 page)

“Soon,” he promised. Tim licked from the top of Otto’s crack to the base of his balls. He pulled at Otto’s hips and Otto rose up onto his knees. The position opened Otto’s ass beautifully, and Tim pushed at his cheeks to give himself a little more room.

Otto’s hole was too tempting to resist. Tim licked it with a firm stroke of tongue. Otto keened. It was the most amazing sound Tim had heard his mate make. He laved Otto’s opening then sealed his lips around it and sucked. The jolt that went through Otto was undeniable. Otto shoved back and almost toppled Tim on his ass, but he changed his grip, holding onto Otto’s hips and spearing his tongue into his hole.

Otto rode his tongue with little movements, pushes and jerks of his hips. Tim reached beneath him and fisted Otto’s dick. It was hard, so hard, and hot, and the tip was wet, leaking his eagerness and need.

Tim scraped the tender opening gently with his teeth then moved down and sucked Otto’s balls. Otto reached behind himself, pulling one ass cheek aside. “Please, Tim, please!”

Tim gave Otto’s sac one last lick then he sat up and tapped Otto’s hip. “On your back. I want to see you.”

“Yes,” Otto hissed, dragging the word out as he got situated with his knees pulled up to his chest. “Now.”

No more begging, which was fine with Tim. He reached for the lube but Otto grabbed his hand. “No. I need to feel you. I almost lost you.”

“Otto,” Tim began, but stopped. He knew what Otto could handle, and he knew he’d never cause his mate harm. “All right, but don’t forget who is doing the driving.”

Otto leered at him, eyes going to Tim’s cock. “As if I could.”

Tim shuffled into position. He spat, thinking it might become a habit. They both liked the burn and stretch, the ache of being taken. He lined his cock up and bumped Otto’s hole. The tight sphincter didn’t give at all.

“You’re sure,” he asked, because he wanted to know, and he had to know.

“Yes.”

It was what Tim needed to hear. He leaned over Otto and slowly, steadily pushed into his soft heat. “Aw, fuck,” Tim gasped. Otto’s inner muscles clenched and rolled around his cock, pulling him in.

“Please do,” Otto huffed, grabbing Tim’s arms. “Make love to me, fill me. Tim, I need you so much.”

“You have me.” Tim lowered himself onto his elbows. He framed Otto’s head with his hands, sinking his fingers into Otto’s hair. He kept pushing, stretching Otto’s sheath, filling it as Otto panted. “All of me,” Tim said, thrusting the last few inches more forcefully.

“Agh!” Otto bowed up, curling and bringing his ass up to Tim’s groin. “Yes!”

Tim decided Otto was too coherent. He slanted his mouth over Otto’s and began kissing him, matching thrust of tongue and cock. Otto slid his hands up until they were clasped behind Tim’s neck. He rode Tim’s cock from beneath, raising his hips into each thrust, backing off for the withdrawals. Otto wasn’t still, ever, working his body with Tim’s.

The tight contractions of his ass around Tim’s dick was maddeningly pleasurable. Every time Tim’s balls pressed against Otto’s ass, his entire shaft was massaged in the most rapturous of ways.

Tim’s orgasm built slowly, tiny licks of ecstasy beginning in his balls, increasing with each thrust, each ripple of those soft inner walls. He lifted up enough to get a hand between them and found Otto’s cock so hard it had to hurt.

“Come for me,” he said.

Otto’s eyes snapped open and he fisted his hand in Tim’s hair. The sound he made was more animalistic than human. He pulled Tim down as his cock filled Otto’s ass again. Tim couldn’t pump Otto’s cock, but he didn’t need to, because Otto bit, marking him, and at the same time, spunk sprayed between their bodies.

The pain of the bite and the scent of his lover’s release, the tight, so tight, clench of those velvet smooth muscles around his dick, was all too much. Tim’s climax moved through him, spurting from his cock into Otto, blinding Tim as his vision turned white. He ground his hips against Otto’s ass, his body demanding everything from them both.

When he finally stopped coming, Tim was completely drained. He just managed to make sure Otto wasn’t still biting him before he collapsed on top of him.

“Don’t move,” Otto said, and Tim wondered how the hell he could still speak. Then Otto turned his head, and turned Tim’s too, and Tim didn’t care who said what. Everything was there, right there in Otto’s eyes. The promise of the future, the joy they’d have, the love, and so much more. Tim knew the same things were reflected in his eyes—they had to be. His heart was so full it was overflowing. How could one body hold so much love?

“It can’t. It takes two, me and you.” Otto kissed him then, and Tim gave himself over to all of the promises, spoken and unspoken.

Coming Soon from this author at Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Love in Xxchange: Where There’s a Will

Bailey Bradford

Released 4
th
June 2012

Excerpt

Chapter One

All in all, Will was pretty damned content, at least when it came to work. He had a pretty cushy gig going now, one that didn’t tax the conscience he usually kept hidden away. Sometimes being a private investigator called for him to do things that just skirted the edges of ethical, or at least it felt that way to him. Having to spy on a guy who’d been through hell had sucked, but Will had been paid to do it—paid well, honestly—and even though he’d felt kind of shitty about it, he’d figured it was better that he be the one hunting down James Stratton than some other PI who wouldn’t have hesitated snatching the dude and dragging him back to his hoity-toity snotty parents.

At least Will had outright refused to do that, and had even threatened to alert James Stratton’s friends if Mr and Mrs Stratton brought someone else in to abduct James like they’d said they would. He wasn’t the brightest damn crayon in the box, but even
he
could see that James was in a good place—i.e., away from his insanely overprotective parents. Maybe there’d been a time when Will would have done what the elder Stratton’s wanted, but with age came wisdom and all that shit. He’d had some life lessons that had taught him to listen to his conscience for the most part, so he’d stayed on the job and bullied Mr and Mrs Stratton, because that was the only way to handle people like that. They sure didn’t understand that their way wasn’t the best way.

Will snorted. Yeah, that was familiar. Sounded kinda like his own folks, except they weren’t wealthy. Middle class, which in today’s economy could be financially flush one moment then scraping for the mortgage payment the next, but definitely not wealthy. Still, his dad had that same rigid personality as Mr Stratton, that
I’m right and anyone who doesn’t agree is too fucking stupid to see how intellectually superior I am
type attitude. His mom, however, wasn’t like Mrs Stratton, not with her nose so damn high in the air she’d drown if she got caught out in the rain.

No, his mom was more the quiet, skittish type who went along with whatever Will’s dad said. If Will didn’t know better, he’d think his mom was an abused spouse, but she wasn’t. His dad doted on her; nope, Wilma Leaks was just a quiet, easily spooked person who was perfectly content to always let someone else lead, even if it was in a shitty direction. And not a single one of her kids—
all boys, poor Mom
—had turned out like her. Will kinda thought his dad would have bullied it out of them if he or any of his four brothers had been as shy and demure as their mom.

“And why the fuck am I thinking about this stuff now?” Will muttered to himself as he reached for the volume button on the car stereo. There was a reason he had a killer sound system in his little Mini Cooper. Will had a tendency to brood and sink into a funk if he gave himself half a chance, especially when it came to thinking about his job working for his dad or…well, when he thought about his family much at all, because they were kind of a mess. He figured most families were, though.
After all, look at the Strattons. They sure did hurt their own son doing what they thought was best…or what they thought was best for them.

The case bothered him, like a constant itch between his shoulder blades. Really, he’d almost quit once or twice, had even gone so far as to haul ass out of town, only to be caught speeding. But it looked like something had changed finally, because while he was still employed by the Strattons’, his job description had changed from being invasive and spying to more along the lines of just keeping an eye on James Stratton. Will could do that, and not feel quite so skeevy about it. And if he also got to eyeball Glenn, well, that was good too. The older man was just hot, but Will wouldn’t have tried to seduce him for the world. James deserved something good in his life. But Will could look, just not as obviously as he had before.

“Enough already,” Will sniped at himself. He’d had so many moody moments he was seriously considering investing in some Midol or something. “Jesus. One shitty case and I start doing that whole introspection crap. Maybe I should go fishing or hunting or something—” Will laughed and flipped the volume up until the bass made his heart thump in his chest. He was
so
not the fishing or hunting type. “More the club and random fucking type,” he muttered, grinning when he couldn’t even hear his own voice. Loud music was good; caused the few brain cells trying to make him stress to pulse and probably explode or something. He stopped at a four-way and played with the buttons until he found a Prince song he just
had
to shriek along with.

Will wasn’t a shy person at all, and singing and bouncing to a beat in his car was something he did regularly and shamelessly. What did he care who saw him? Especially here in this small Texas town of Truett? No one knew him, and the people who knew
of
him didn’t like him, so if they saw him and laughed, who cared? Besides, it was
Prince
and who could resist that part where the little dude about broke the mic screeching? Not Will, that’s for sure!

He pulled away from the four-way and bounced in his seat, working a little shimmy up to his shoulders as he scraped his throat raw trying to match the singer’s vocals on the last couple of lines. He wasn’t half bad, and damn but he could wiggle his ass even sitting down! Will bobbed his head and narrowed his eyes as he hit the last couple of words before letting out a breathy, growly “Kiss,” delighted at the perfect timing of an oncoming car. It passed him just in time for Will to pucker up and blow a big kiss towards the driver, and Will couldn’t help laughing afterwards at the cowboy’s expression.

The man had had his window down, so yeah, Will had been able to see his weathered features, which had been damn sexy in that Marlboro Man way. Add the shocked look on the man’s face, his dark eyes going wide and the way he swerved his big old truck when Will glanced in his side mirror after he passed the dude, and yeah, it was pretty funny. Until the cowboy hit his brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. Then it was kinda on the scary side, and Will instantly regretted his impulsive action, because, yeah, small town Texas, big older cowboy…

Sometimes he could really be a dumbass, Will thought. Scary visions of being chased down by the cowboy flashed through Will’s head as the truck began a u-turn. Will squeaked and shot a glance at his glove box…his tiny glove box that held an equally tiny gun. The big grey truck completed the turn as sweat broke out on Will’s palms and brow, and above his upper lip.

Will eased the gas pedal down, not wanting to appear scared or anything else that would make him seem weak, or like…like prey. Then the truck lurched forward and Will thought,
fuck it
! He floored the gas pedal and shot down the road.

* * * *

Carlos cursed and glanced at the damn map again. Between it and the GPS navigation, he was totally lost. How the hell was he supposed to turn onto a road that wasn’t there? And if that damned snooty voice told him one more time that it was
recalculating
he was going to put his fist through the stupid little box and through the windshield the unit was stuck to as well.

Make a u-turn.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he tried to get his bearings. All he wanted to do was find the ranch that Nick was living and working on. Jesus, you’d think he was on some bizarre treasure hunt, as complicated as this trip was turning out to be! But the Mossy Glenn was in trouble, thanks to Nick’s momma’s greed, and maybe Nick didn’t want shit to do with the Mossy G—Carlos couldn’t blame him there—and maybe Nick was pissed at his momma—and again, Carlos couldn’t blame Nick at all.

But the truth was, Nick had always been a good son even though his momma was a crazy, mean old bat. Nick wouldn’t want her to be homeless, which was close to happening. Carlos could have called, but he had his own reasons for coming to Texas and talking to Nick face to face.

Make a u-turn.

“All right!” Carlos snapped. He turned his head and nearly wrecked his truck when a cute young woman puckered up and blew him a kiss from a passing car. Carlos jerked the wheel and got the truck back in his lane at about the same time his brain processed the fact that it hadn’t been a woman who’d blown his a kiss, not unless the women in Texas were on the hairy side. There’d been a glimpse of smooth skin and sideburns, longish ones that curved under high cheekbones. Carlos pulled the truck over and looked in his rearview. He wasn’t really seeing the bright blue little car, though. Instead it was those full lips pursed and the dark, thick sideburns, the narrowed eyes that he just bet were lit with laughter right about now.

Make a u-turn.
Carlos narrowed his own eyes. Was the guy laughing at him? Had he seen something Carlos usually kept hidden away?
Naw, not in that split second.
More than likely the guy had just been messing around, probably just having fun, something Carlos would swear he didn’t know anything about anymore. His lips twitched as he saw the guy checking in his side mirror.