Road Trip by A.F. Henley

Author:A.F. Henley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Gay Romance, Contemporary
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2015-10-03T22:00:00+00:00

DAY FIVE – SUNDAY

The last thing Boyd was planning to do was sleep late. Even if he drove straight, doing nothing more than driving past his intended stops, it would take the assistance of a Time Lord for him to show up on time for work the next day. He wasn't looking forward to having to make that call to his boss in the least. Knowing they were understaffed already, knowing that Mondays were always their busiest day, and knowing that he'd sworn up and down before he'd left that he'd be back without incident, the idea of having to kiss his boss's ass while he explained that he'd run into some unforeseeable issues made Boyd's skin crawl. Yet the morning sky was filled with low, gray clouds that blanketed out the sun and kept the car from getting too stuffy, and the previous night's activities had Boyd's body tired, relaxed, and more than content to languish in the arms of half-sleep.

It was the scuttle-beetle sound of an appliance set to vibrate that nudged Boyd towards consciousness, but it was the departure of Oliver's body and the resulting emptiness beside Boyd that shoved him into wakefulness. The clump of the car door served as the gavel to Boyd's sentence of rising and facing the day.

Boyd sat up, pleasantly sedated, and watched Oliver walk from the car with his cell phone against his ear. Boyd's eyes tracked down Oliver's body, and recollection colored the process with the memory of sensation: how sharp Oliver's shoulder blades felt against Boyd's chest when Oliver curled into himself, how warm Oliver's neck felt when he was aroused, the saline-tinged taste of Oliver's skin, and the fineness of his hair. The rhythm of his hips. The heat between his thighs. The way his dick twitched when he came.

Boyd released a long breath and squeezed his awakening groin. "Down, boy. We have no time for that."

Instead of getting out of the car, Boyd fell back against the seat and closed his eyes. It had been a good night, even if he'd felt like an ass when Oliver had told him why. It wouldn't happen again, not with the implication of paybacks hanging over his head, but he would have been a damn liar if he didn't admit that it had felt good. Or that he really, really wanted to do it again. And again. And then more. And then do that again, too. Boyd opened his eyes, peeked through the side window, and couldn't stop himself from feasting visually on Oliver once again. Hell yes, he thought—a million times over.

Oliver's shoulders looked hunched and tight, and Boyd's eyes narrowed. His relaxed, far-too-pleased-with-himself smile tightened into a straight line when Oliver turned towards the car, tensed up on noticing Boyd watching, and then turned away. Oliver had either got hold of the elusive stepmother, or the asshole from the phone call the other day was back. Either way, if Oliver's body language could be trusted, things weren't going well.

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