Read Rough [02] - Roughhousing for Free Online Page B

brick-paved driveway. Still in his stocking feet, pants open, shirttails hanging free, he reached into the truck and forcefully yanked his breathless lover to the edge of the seat on the driver's side.
    "I think that's our cue to take it indoors.” He looked down at James, a new sense of want boiling in his veins. The man sat with his legs dangling out the door, his still swollen cock poking darkly up from between his open shirttails, a just-fucked look on his handsome, little-boy face. James’ hair was a halo of disheveled, dark curls and Bram longed to weave his fingers through them and bend James to his will. Bram felt his own shaft swell and his possessive urges bubbled to the surface again. He'd never get enough of this man, ever. “Let's move. The last thing we need is the neighborhood watch staring in the truck window while we're breaking in the upholstery.” A screen door slammed nearby and the dog's howls got louder.
    "I'm only half dressed. Give me a minute.” James leaned back to grab his pants and found himself pulled and lifted into the air. “What the hell are you doing?"
    Bram felt James’ hands scrabble at his back as he hefted the slight figure over one shoulder, careful to miss putting pressure on James’ now full erection. Despite his lover's protests, the physical evidence of James’ true reaction to Bram's caveman tactics was loud and clear. God, how he loved this man.
    Playfully slapping one exposed asscheek, Bram grabbed the lost trousers, snagged a leather wallet off the floor by the pedals, and closed and locked the truck door. “Going in. Now.” He headed off toward the back door, James’ half naked body securely swinging on one broad shoulder. Bram smiled wider and enjoyed the indignant wiggles under his protective hand.
    "You asshole!” Sounding like he was stifling laughter, James choked out his objection. “Put me down, damnit!"
    Just then a small, reedy, feminine voice from the other side of the hedges asked, “Mr. Lord? Are you boys all right over there?"
    James sputtered and punched Bram hard in the back, but Bram merely pinched his ass, forcing him to strangle on an outraged yelp. Never slowing down, Bram continued to the house, yelling over one shoulder, “We're fine, Miss Emily. Sorry to have disturbed you. James was getting a little frisky in the truck.” A muffled complaint interrupted him briefly, but he quelled it with another pinch. “I'm taking him inside now. Don't worry. I know a way to keep him quiet."
    "Well, then, that's all right.” Her voice quivered, but Bram couldn't tell if it was from age or amusement. “A little friskiness is a good thing. Keeps you young and limber, I say. Good night, then.” There was a slight hesitation before she added, “Don't worry about keeping too quiet. I'll just turn up the TV set."
    Bram opened the back door. “Good night, Miss Emily. Enjoy your show."
    A faint, wistful, “You, too,” nearly made him drop James on the porch, but he managed to get through the door despite the death threats being muttered into his back.
     

Chapter Four
    Landing on his back on Bram's over-sized bed where the big man had heaved him, James just lay there, rumpled and sprawled. All thoughts of retribution for being blamed for the commotion outside and manhandled into the house and upstairs dissolved away.
    The deep green bed covers were already pulled back as if waiting to embrace him. The sheets were cool and silky against his heated skin. Plump, soft pillows rested at the top of the mattress, leaning enticingly against the sturdy, carved headboard. James ignored them, choosing to gaze at his lover through half-lidded eyes.
    Most of his clothing had disappeared during the trip upstairs. James was only dressed in his dinner shirt, its crisp, white cotton lines now crushed and wrinkled. It gaped open to his waist, held together by two tiny buttons that had resisted Bram's earlier attempts to access every square inch of James’ chest. Gaze