The Brokenhearted Necklace: Brokenhearted Memories (Bk 2) by A.M. Snead

Author:A.M. Snead [Snead, A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

♦

“Holy fuck,” Travis choked on a laugh and lowered the phone, looking at Jack. He wiggled his eyebrows and danced the phone back and forth. “We got us a fucking blockbuster here.”

Jack fought to control his erratic heartbeat and shield the raging hard-on shoving against the crotch of his pants. He could feel the sweat dampening his brow –his entire body. This wasn’t right. What they just witnessed should be having him in the bushes puking his guts out –not inspiring an unprecedented erection.

“Now can we go?” he asked, and winced at the rasp in his voice. He crawled quickly to his feet and kept his body carefully turned away so Travis couldn’t see his bulging crotch. What the fuck was wrong with him? Real fear twisted his gut. You’re not a fucking fag! Don’t even think it!

“Yeah, this should do,” Travis grinned and stood up. Jack chanced a discreet, fleeting glance at his friend’s package and found it prominently swollen. Travis adjusted his goods and Jack snapped his eyes away before Travis caught him looking and made some insinuation about it.

They left their spot and moved quickly and quietly back down the road to where Jack had parked the car. He had hoped the walk would calm the throbbing in his cock, cause it to soften, but to no avail. When he slid in behind the wheel, he needed to adjust himself but the last thing he wanted to do was bring Travis’ attention to his crotch.

“Fuck,” Travis chuckled and dropped into the passenger seat. He adjusted his package a second time as he settled in and closed the door. “That kind of gave me a woody.”

Jack stared at him with disgust. “That’s fucking gross.”

Travis leaned back against the headrest and turned his face to Jack. “As gross as the wood in your shorts?” he smirked and winked.

Swallowing hard, Jack looked away, face tight. “Whatever,” he muttered and started the car. The engine rumbled quietly. He squeezed the steering wheel, staring out the front windshield. His balls were so full and tight he wanted to scream –or punch something.

Travis chuckled low.

Or someone.

Releasing a hard breath, Jack directed the car back down the steep road.

“You do realize I lost the bet, right?” Travis spoke up, amusement in his voice. “I’m man enough to admit it.”

“There wasn’t any fucking bet,” Jack said tightly without looking at him. “And even if there had been…how do you figure you lost? You said they would do it, and they did.”

“No they didn’t,” Travis snorted. “McNair still had his underwear on. He didn’t tap Lonny’s ass.”

“So?” Jack mumbled. “Fucking is fucking.”

Travis shook his head and laughed. “First of all…uh-uh, dry fucking isn’t fucking. And second…” His eyes drilled into Jack. “Why’re you so insistent that I won? Is it because…” Travis reached over and nudged his arm jokingly. “…you wanted to lose?”

“Fuck off,” Jack growled, face pinching tighter. “Like I said –there was no fucking bet to begin with.”

“Mm,” Travis smirked and sank into his seat.

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