his old man screamed
MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
66
condemnation and threatened God’s retribution for finding pleasure in the flesh. Max didn’t believe the same hateful shit his parents had preached, but he still couldn’t shake that voice or the judgmental words.
Annabelle stooped to pick up the shovel then began cleaning up the second mess.
“Whether you know it or not, you did something, because Bo looked… Well, besides looking like he’d come in his jeans, he looked pretty damn unhappy.”
As much as Max wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment, there were five words that seared into his brain: he’d come in his jeans . Max ignored the heat, from the heater and from the blood he knew had rushed to his cheeks. If Bo had come in his jeans, then that meant, what? That he’d actually enjoyed Max’s brutal behaviour? Surely that wasn’t the case.
Maybe he’d… Max couldn’t think of another scenario that would have left Bo with a wet spot right where it would have been in such a case.
“Think maybe I’ll go talk to him after I finish this stall for you since you’re all thumbs and dumbass today.” Annabelle tossed a load into the wheelbarrow with more grace than Max had ever managed. “Unless you want to talk to him, being a guy and all that. Might freak him out a bit if I ask him about the barn smelling like spunk and horse shit, or the wet spot. Guys can be weird about that stuff if it’s a woman asking.”
Max knew he was being manipulated, and normally, it would have made him dig in his heels. Not this time. Annabelle was trying to shove him in the direction he wanted to go, and he really wanted to know about that whole jeans thing. And he knew he had some
explaining to do. Max had been furious when Bo had been hurt, then he’d turned around and hurt the sweet little guy all over again.
Max heaved his best put-upon sigh. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. Didn’t feel like mucking the stalls anyway.” He walked out as quickly as he thought he could without arousing any more suspicion.
Annabelle’s shouted, “Tell Bo I want details!” let him know he’d failed miserably, but he didn’t care. Every step he took closer to Bo may have added to Max’s confusion, but it also stoked the anticipation that was simmering in his veins.
MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
67
Bo ignored the knocking on the bedroom door. He’d heard the front door squeak as it was opened, recognised the sound of Max’s footsteps on the wood floors, so he knew who was on the other side of the bedroom door. Maybe he should feel bad about Max having to knock—it was his room, after all—but it wasn’t like Bo had locked the door, merely shut it before collapsing on the bed and curling into a ball.
Bo squeezed his eyelids tightly shut when he heard the door open. Max’s steps were lighter now, so maybe the man believed he was asleep. The footsteps stopped then the mattress dipped as Max sat on the side of bed.
“I know you ain’t asleep, can tell by your breathing.”
Bo cracked his eyes open but didn’t turn to face Max. “Annabelle sent you, didn’t she?”
“I would have come on my own, just…” Max sighed. “Bo, I don’t know what’s going on here, and I hadn’t ever…no one ever did anything like that to me before, you know?”
Bo felt his eyebrows crawling up to his hairline—which was still almost where it was twenty years ago. He flopped onto his back and studied Max intently, noting the deep red flush that tinted his neck and cheeks. The man was just too adorable, and too vague.
“You mean, no one ever gave you a blowjob before?” At the minute shake of Max’s
head, Bo pushed himself up on his elbows. This definitely bore deeper investigation. “You ever blown anyone?” Another quick, silent denial. “Been fucked?” Max jerked and a strangled sound slipped past his lips.
Oh shit . “Maybe I should have asked some of these questions before,” Bo
MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
66
condemnation and threatened God’s retribution for finding pleasure in the flesh. Max didn’t believe the same hateful shit his parents had preached, but he still couldn’t shake that voice or the judgmental words.
Annabelle stooped to pick up the shovel then began cleaning up the second mess.
“Whether you know it or not, you did something, because Bo looked… Well, besides looking like he’d come in his jeans, he looked pretty damn unhappy.”
As much as Max wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment, there were five words that seared into his brain: he’d come in his jeans . Max ignored the heat, from the heater and from the blood he knew had rushed to his cheeks. If Bo had come in his jeans, then that meant, what? That he’d actually enjoyed Max’s brutal behaviour? Surely that wasn’t the case.
Maybe he’d… Max couldn’t think of another scenario that would have left Bo with a wet spot right where it would have been in such a case.
“Think maybe I’ll go talk to him after I finish this stall for you since you’re all thumbs and dumbass today.” Annabelle tossed a load into the wheelbarrow with more grace than Max had ever managed. “Unless you want to talk to him, being a guy and all that. Might freak him out a bit if I ask him about the barn smelling like spunk and horse shit, or the wet spot. Guys can be weird about that stuff if it’s a woman asking.”
Max knew he was being manipulated, and normally, it would have made him dig in his heels. Not this time. Annabelle was trying to shove him in the direction he wanted to go, and he really wanted to know about that whole jeans thing. And he knew he had some
explaining to do. Max had been furious when Bo had been hurt, then he’d turned around and hurt the sweet little guy all over again.
Max heaved his best put-upon sigh. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. Didn’t feel like mucking the stalls anyway.” He walked out as quickly as he thought he could without arousing any more suspicion.
Annabelle’s shouted, “Tell Bo I want details!” let him know he’d failed miserably, but he didn’t care. Every step he took closer to Bo may have added to Max’s confusion, but it also stoked the anticipation that was simmering in his veins.
MILES TO GO
Bailey Bradford
67
Bo ignored the knocking on the bedroom door. He’d heard the front door squeak as it was opened, recognised the sound of Max’s footsteps on the wood floors, so he knew who was on the other side of the bedroom door. Maybe he should feel bad about Max having to knock—it was his room, after all—but it wasn’t like Bo had locked the door, merely shut it before collapsing on the bed and curling into a ball.
Bo squeezed his eyelids tightly shut when he heard the door open. Max’s steps were lighter now, so maybe the man believed he was asleep. The footsteps stopped then the mattress dipped as Max sat on the side of bed.
“I know you ain’t asleep, can tell by your breathing.”
Bo cracked his eyes open but didn’t turn to face Max. “Annabelle sent you, didn’t she?”
“I would have come on my own, just…” Max sighed. “Bo, I don’t know what’s going on here, and I hadn’t ever…no one ever did anything like that to me before, you know?”
Bo felt his eyebrows crawling up to his hairline—which was still almost where it was twenty years ago. He flopped onto his back and studied Max intently, noting the deep red flush that tinted his neck and cheeks. The man was just too adorable, and too vague.
“You mean, no one ever gave you a blowjob before?” At the minute shake of Max’s
head, Bo pushed himself up on his elbows. This definitely bore deeper investigation. “You ever blown anyone?” Another quick, silent denial. “Been fucked?” Max jerked and a strangled sound slipped past his lips.
Oh shit . “Maybe I should have asked some of these questions before,” Bo
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