Sullivan (Leopard's Spots 7) (21 page)

Sully grabbed him by the ears and pulled his head down. Bobby laughed and went along with it, enjoying the bossy side of his mate. He lapped at one nipple then the other.

“Come on, bite me,” Sully ordered.

Bobby wasn’t going to deny his mate. He bit one nub while pinching the other.

“Oh yeah, again. Do it again and again and again and—” Sully needed to be kept wordless, Bobby decided. He went after Sully’s nipples, pinching, licking, biting and twisting them until the flesh was dark and swollen. Then he slid down and unfastened the button on Sully’s waistband. “Pick your ass up,” he ordered, eying the zipper tab. He was so close to the prize.

“Uh, Bobby?”

Bobby glanced up the length of Sully’s body to find him propped on his elbows and watching Bobby with a worried expression on his handsome face. “What’s wrong? Shaving mishap?”

Sully scowled and swatted at him. “No, I didn’t accidentally nick my balls again.

Sheesh. That one time taught me to be more careful. A lot more careful.”

“Good thing, too. I love you nuts.” Bobby rubbed his face over the swell of Sully’s still-covered cock, then further down until his chin was pressed lightly against Sully’s sac. “Yeah, I don’t want these babies hurt again.”

Sully squeaked when Bobby mouthed them through his pants. Bobby grinned even as he inhaled Sully’s musky scent. Eager to get his mate naked, Bobby began to lower the zipper. “Up,” he growled when Sully was too slow to elevate his hips. “Or I’ll rip these damned clothes to shreds.”

“Fine, but don’t you dare laugh.” Sully huffed and raised his bottom off the ground.

“Short of you shaving a heart into your pubes, I doubt anything I’m about to uncover will make me laugh.” Bobby arched an eyebrow when he saw the first glimmer behind the parting zipper. “Oh ho, what have we got here?” Far from making him laugh, the promise of sexy, sparkly undies made his cock even harder than it already was.

“Aw, God,” Sully moaned, flopping back onto the ground as he moved his elbows from their supporting position. “I bought ‘em on a whim a good while back. I thought…I thought they’d be sexy, but now—”

“They so fuckin’ are,” Bobby rumbled, desire making it hard to speak. The moonlight made the sequence gleam brilliantly. “You are.”

“I am what? You’re not making sense,” Sully complained.

“Hard to think when all the blood’s rushed south, stud.” Bobby tongued the sequence.

That didn’t feel so good, so he nipped. Sully cursed and Bobby did it again before rising up enough to push Sully’s pants off. “You are fuckin’ hot, that’s what I meant. These—is this a thong?” Bobby’s dick pulsed at the thought of Sully wearing a thong.

“Yeah, why?”

Bobby growled and flipped Sully over. His glorious, firm ass was divided by a thin strip of material. “Oh damn.” Bobby leaned down and licked on either side of it, then he bit Sully’s ass.

“Ow!” Sully squirmed but Bobby put his hands on those white cheeks and spread them.

“Be still.” He swatted one, bringing up a dark mark instantly. Sully gasped but arched his lower back, offering Bobby everything. Bobby hummed and went back to licking, occasionally pausing to leave a love bite on Sully’s pale skin.

“Bobby, I need,” Sully whined. “Please.”

Bobby needed, too. “Up,” he said as he hooked his fingers beneath the now-damp material in Sully’s crease. Sully complied and Bobby yanked the thong off. He tossed it aside and pulled at Sully’s hips, rolling him onto his back. Bobby didn’t give Sully a second to catch his breath, instead going right for the bobbing cock stringing pre-cum to Sully’s belly.

Bobby sucked the fat head into his mouth.

“Yeah, suck me, suck me.” Sully moaned and kept a hold of Bobby’s ears, guiding him like a bossy lover should. Bobby got a hand under Sully’s balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. He used his thumb to rub at Sully’s hole.

“Ah, ah, hurry up and get on me,” Sully pleaded. “I wanna cum in your tight ass not your mouth, and I’m soooooooo close.”

Bobby dipped his head down and tried to get a good coating of saliva on Sully’s cock, then he scrambled up and straddled Sully’s hips. He paused long enough to rip his own shirt open, uncaring of whether or not he damaged the pearl snaps.

“You look fuckin’ sexy like that,” Sully crooned. “Love the hat. Ride me, cowboy.”

“First crappy Shakespeare, and now that.” Bobby rose up and held Sully’s dick in place.

“You’re lucky I’m putting out at all.”

“I know I am, but—oh,” Sully whimpered, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Oh my God—”

Bobby hissed, the tip stretching his hole and making it burn. He lowered himself slowly, enjoying the way Sully filled him up. It was almost too much, which meant Sully’s cock was perfect in his ass.

Bobby wiggled his hips and Sully panted. That was a good sign, always. Bobby leant forward and planted his hands on Sully’s chest. He started a slow grind on the fat cock inside him, shivering every time it brushed over his gland.

“If I saw yee-haw, are you gonna stop?” Sully rasped.

“Probably…” Bobby threw his head back and moaned. “Not.” He might not be a cowboy, but he could ride his man.

Sully had let go of his ears and now he took hold of Bobby’s cock with one hand. The other he reached up and worked Bobby’s tits with. “Harder,” Sully demanded. “Come on, ride me.” He released Bobby’s cock to pop him on the ass hard enough that Bobby knew there’d be a welt or two. His cock leaked pre-cum and Sully popped him again.

Bobby began riding Sully harder, faster, clenching his ass on every drive down. Sully shouted and fisted his dick again. He kept his hand still as Bobby fucked into it with each thrust while he took Sully in repeatedly.

Pleasure scored him inside, spreading from his ass to his balls and cock, rebounding up to his nipples. Bobby felt the flush of desire on his skin, warming him on the outside as Sully’s cock warmed him inside. The friction was delicious, perfect and addictive. Bobby rocked harder, slamming down the last couple of inches to drive Sully in deeper than before.

Sully clenched his hand around Bobby’s cock, and locked his other arm across Bobby’s thighs as Sully folded his torso partially up and shouted. The first jet of cum seared Bobby’s insides just as his own shaft pumped out seed. He gasped, trying to get some air in his lungs as he came so hard the stars behind his lids were much brighter than the ones overhead.

Sully cried out with each shot his cock emptied into Bobby.

Bobby whimpered and collapsed on top of Sully. “Can’t move.”

“Don’t need to,” Sully retorted.

That sounded good to Bobby, if unrealistic. “Got family here.”

“Ew.” Sully locked his arms around Bobby and sat up, his strength making him easily capable of doing so. “Way to kill the afterglow.”

“Sorry. I’m just afraid we might fall asleep, and the idea of your grandma or mom or anyone from our families finding us just…” Bobby shuddered. “I think I just gave myself nightmare material.”

Sully shuddered too. “The answer to that is easy—let’s just not sleep tonight. Take me home, keep me up all night lovin’ on me, and hey, no nightmares.” Bobby laughed. “Sounds like the best plan I’ve ever heard.” They were going to have a fun, loving life together.

Also available by this author from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Reverence

Bailey Bradford

Excerpt

There came a point where you just had to either accept certain facts, like you were batshit crazy, or reality wasn’t what you’d always believed it to be. Harley Johansen was still trying to figure out which of those truths applied to his situation. He was leaning unwillingly towards the latter and, honestly, he thought he’d have preferred to just be insane. Somehow it wouldn’t be as scary as having to accept the existence of supernatural things.

Like werewolves. Freakish things, they changed from people, contorting and twisting around until they were beasts. Harley had seen it happen numerous times since he’d been abducted from his crappy little apartment in Sedona weeks ago. Granted, it’d been men who had grabbed him then. His own fault there, for being a total slut. He’d been lonely and, as he often did in such a case, he’d gone out and brought home someone he’d hoped would help chase off the sense of isolation, of being nothing in the world.

What a fucking idiot! Harley smacked his hand against his forehead. Again. There ought to be a dent in his skull from him doing that. Maybe if he did it often enough, he’d jar something loose in there, like some previously hidden stash of common sense. He’d been warned before that bringing strangers home was a stupid, dangerous thing to do. Well, duh!

Hadn’t one of the people who warned him of that been a fucking werewolf himself?

Not that Harley had known his trick a month or so ago was a freak. Alex had seemed really hot. Lost, too, like Harley often felt. And the guy had fucked Harley like a dream. Then he’d left the next morning and Harley had gone on with his life. He hadn’t mooned over Alex, but had remembered the sex pretty fondly. Alex had done nothing to get him involved in the mess he was now in, nothing to be exposed to an altering of his reality that had nearly cost him his sanity. Maybe still would, because sometimes he just wanted to curl up in a ball and rock and cry, like—

“No!” Harley wrapped his arms around himself and huddled bent in the chair. He wouldn’t give up and let the monsters that had him win. Granted, they wanted him to believe they were the good monsters, as opposed to the ones that had taken him in the first place. But as far as Harley was concerned, they were all fucking psychotic monsters, unnatural creatures that weren’t man or beast exactly, but a frightening blend of both.

As if thinking about them brought them to him—and it might have, Harley had no idea what powers the damnable things might possess—there was a sharp rap on his door. The fear Harley lived with every day spiked higher, right on up to slap his temper awake. Being scared often made him angry, and now was no exception.

Harley uncrossed his arms and pushed up from the chair with enough force that the chair tipped over. He almost felt bad—it was a very nice chair and he hoped he hadn’t broken it. Then again, the rooms he was kept in were nice, period. Warm, homey, tastefully decorated—if his apartment in Sedona had looked like this he’d have never left, or at least not often.

Unfortunately the beauty and comfort of his current dwelling had nothing to do with why he didn’t leave it. That reason was because of the jackass still banging on the damned door. Whichever jackass it was. Harley didn’t want to discriminate—all of the werewolves were scary. They were even scarier when they acted so…so fucking human.

Harley gripped the doorknob and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Who is it?” It wasn’t time for lunch, as breakfast had been less than an hour ago, so Harley knew it wouldn’t be Anya standing on the other side of the door. And it wasn’t laundry day, so not Craig, either.

“Marcus.”

Harley closed his eyes and sagged against the wall. Of course it’d be Marcus, and probably his boyfriend or whatever Nathan was called. He’d yet to have one visit without the other, and Marcus in particular never failed to make Harley nervous. He detested being nervous almost as much as he hated being scared, so he generally ended up being either extremely bitchy or utterly silent when Marcus and Nathan showed up. He didn’t know how else to deal with his emotions or the waves of power he could feel coming off Marcus. Even if Harley hadn’t heard Marcus described as the Alpha Anax—or the Alpha of all Alphas in North America—he’d have known Marcus was The Boss. The man exuded a dynamic authority that Harley had never seen in anyone else before.

Which was why Marcus was so intimidating, and why Harley was even angrier around him.

“What do you want?” Harley grumbled, hoping his unwanted visitors would go the fuck away. He just knew one day he’d let one of the beasts in and end up torn into pieces for it. After all, what need did they have of him? He was just a stupid, puny human who had a head full of fucked up.

“Harley, open the door, please.”

Yeah, Marcus said please, but he growled the entire sentence out and Harley had turned into one big frickin’ goose bump. Did he really want a pissed-off werewolf—make that two pissed-off werewolves, because he could hear Nathan muttering on the other side of the door—anywhere near him?

“We need to discuss your return to Sedona.”

Harley straightened up and frowned at the door, as if it, and not Nathan, had spoken those words. They were going to let him go home? Back to Sedona? After keeping him here for weeks, in their weird wolf compound, he could finally, maybe, if he believed them and they weren’t fucking with him, he could go home?

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About the Author

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep?

Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is know as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

Email:
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Bailey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com
Also by Bailey Bradford

Southwestern Shifters: Rescued

Southwestern Shifters: Relentless

Southwestern Shifters: Reckless

Southwestern Shifters: Rendered

Southwestern Shifters: Resilience

Southwestern Shifters: Reverence

Southern Spirits: A Subtle Breeze

Southern Spirits: When the Dead Speak

Southern Spirits: All of the Voices