Page 72 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“Still could give a guy a little warning.”

I puffed out a laugh. “You didn’t want the warning.”

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?”

Instinct flashed through me in a moment. I walked over to him and unceremoniously reached out to put a firm palm against his cock through the fabric of his shorts.

He was hard.

Not a half-chub, not a semi.

Hardfor me.

Which certainly made me respond just as quickly, blood rushing to my dick like I was Pavlov’s dog to Max’s erections.

“See?” I told him. “You liked it.”

He groaned. “Fuck off.”

His hand came down onto the front of my jeans, pawing for my cock, too. “What point are you trying to prove? You’re just as hard.”

“Maybe it turns me on to catch youlying, just like it turns you on to catch me with my cock out.”

He let his palm slide away from my package, and I wished he’d have kept it right where it was.

He tried to glare at me, but I could tell he wasn’t really mad because he kept looking at my lips. Just like he had last night.

“I wasn’t lying. When did you hear me say,hi, Draven, good morning, and by the way, my cock is flaccid?”

I snorted. I gave his shaft one good, firm squeeze through the soft material of his shorts, then let it go. He let out a breath. I saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

I wanted to sink my cock into his mouth, and make him take it to his throat in a way I knew he’d learn to love.

Or maybe shove it into his ass and feel how tight he must be, inexperienced as he was, and watch his face flush as he learned to love the pain and the intense pleasure it would give him afterwards.

Bad, bad Draven. As usual.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ve got the system in the truck. One camera for the front, one for the back, and floodlights for each side of the place. We’ll be able to monitor them from anywhere, using your phone.”

He walked over to his kitchen counter and picked up a tall bottle, cocking his head at me. “We?What do you meanwewill be able to monitor them?”

“You and me. That’s what I mean.”

“You’re not going to have access to my house cameras.”

“Trust me, you’re going to want another pair of eyes on them for anytime you’re over at the Hard Spot.”

He was scooping protein powder into the tall bottle. “If I’m at the bar, then nobody is going to murder me from myhouse.”

“You really are too sweet for your own good.”

“Why?”

“They wouldwaitfor you at your house,thenmurder you once you got home. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

He looked at me like he wanted to bring a wide jab to the side of my face right about now. “I’m still not convinced that you won’t murder me in my fucking sleep,” he told me. “I don’t even want cameras, but if they have to be here, I’m going to be the one with control of them.”

“Anybody ever tell you how stubborn you are?”

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