MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
58
Bo nodded even though he didn’t agree. He liked the Max that held him at night and always made him feel like someone cared about him. Why wouldn’t Chance want him to have that, to have what Chance and Rory had? Or did he just think Bo was too much of a flake to ever have a solid, loving relationship? Bo would have agreed not very long ago, but every moment he spent with Max made Bo believe he was worth something more than a fuck. Though he definitely wanted that, too.
Bo watched Max approaching, looking tired and dirty and oh so happy to see him. The man had a smile that lit up his whole face, and Bo’s whole world. Maybe it was time for Bo to make his move.
MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
59
Chapter Six
Max wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but he thought Bo was up to something. The man had been sweeter than sugar to him for the past week. Bo was a nice guy, although Max was aware he had a bit of a reputation. He’d heard all about Bo’s ardent but failed pursuit of Chance not very long ago. This went beyond nice, but it wasn’t quite pursuit. He thought.
Every morning, Bo had somehow managed to wake before Max. The obnoxious blaring
of the alarm was no longer necessary. Instead, Bo’s soft hands kneading the muscles of Max’s back was Max’s new alarm clock. It was a better way to be roused from his sleep, even if Bo did occasionally let his hands dip a little lower than Max suspected they should.
Not that he was complaining. It just made his dick hard as a steel pipe, and maybe, when he thought Bo wasn’t looking, Max rubbed that aching length against the mattress in tiny little thrusts. Bo never said a word about it, just massaged Max’s back for several wonderful minutes—and yeah, sometimes a little south of there, too—before leaving Max alone and hobbling off to the kitchen.
Max had tried to stop him the first couple of times, not wanting Bo to strain himself, but Bo had just flapped a hand at him and…hobbled away. The erection Max had kept him from trying to talk the man out of it at that point, and besides, Max really enjoyed watching Bo’s plump, pert ass as he made his way out of the room.
These morning massages had led Max to morning showers during which he jacked
himself off. He’d been so reticent before to perform that particular action, always waiting for the wrath of God or his pa to come down and strike him dead. However, with Bo around, Max decided it was worth dying over. And it was either jerk off or die of blue balls.
There was lots of touching, accidental brushes against Max’s hips, his ass, his hands, chest, shoulders, back—he didn’t think there was a part of him Bo hadn’t managed to lay a hand on this past week. Except for his cock—Bo hadn’t touched that part of him since the whole cringe-inducing water bottle trauma.
Then there was Bo, teasing and laughing, bringing him coffee that he spilled half of before he handed it to Max. He’d also taken to packing lunches for Max and Annabelle, but MILES TO GO
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Max’s always had something extra, a candy bar or a muffin, something to take the edge off Max’s sweet tooth.
The result was that Max was confused as hell. He didn’t know if Bo was just being nice, or if he meant something more by all the attention he was giving him. It was driving Max nuts, because every little thing Bo did was a cause for his dick to swell, which permanently demolished Max’s view of himself as asexual. He wanted Bo something fierce, but he wasn’t quite sure what that entailed, or how to go about getting what he wanted. It was just flat-out hard to get something when you weren’t real clear on what it was you were wanting.
Asking someone was out of the question. He’d rather be caught in a stampede of
panicked cattle and squished into a puddle of guts and goo. The Internet was out, too, seeing as how the desktop in the bunkhouse was shared property. Max wasn’t a total idiot—he had a damn good idea of what went where, he just didn’t understand how that could go there!
Christ almighty, that had to hurt. Only, if it did, then no one would do it, would they? Or not many people, anyway.
“What’s got you frowning like that, Maxie?”
Oh yeah, there was that, too. Bo had decided to call him by a name that made Max think of a feminine hygiene product. That could not possibly be a good thing.
Max shovelled up another scoop of shit-covered straw as he tried to think of an excuse Bo would buy. Nothing came to mind, but that was mainly due to the fact Bo had stepped up right behind Max as he was bent partially over to shovel out the stall. Max could feel the heat from Bo’s groin. The guy had to be standing with his dick a hair away from Max’s ass, which gave Max’s constant companion, Mr Wood, permission to try to burst from his jeans.
“Maxie?” Something kind of hard brushed across Max’s butt when Bo spoke. Max
thought about what went where and nearly leapt out of his boots trying to stand up and put a little space between them. All he succeeded in doing was stumbling, which resulted in Bo grabbing his arm and spinning him around. Max suddenly found himself face to face with Bo…and cock to cock.
Bo gave him a beatific smile and Max nearly creamed his
