Page 86 of Tagging Bases

His fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs, spreading me impossibly wider, as his thick cock swells and pulses, flooding the condom with his hot seed. Suddenly, his body goes rigid, and then he collapses on top of me. I wrap my arms around his broad, sweat-covered back, holding him close as our hearts pound wildly against each other.

“That was…” Charlie mumbles, at a loss for words.

“Yeah,” I agree breathlessly, my mind blissfully blank in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of my life. “It was.”

The goddamn rooster crows again,pulling me from the clutches of sleep. I blink against the sunlight streaming through the window, momentarily disoriented.Where the hell am I?

Oh, right. Charlie’s childhood bedroom, on Charlie’s family farm, where I had the best sex of my life. I grin dopily as the delicious soreness in my ass confirms that it wasn’t just a wonderful wet dream.

I attempt to roll over, ready for some lazy morning cuddles and maybe round two. But instead of finding a warm, naked Charlie, I’m met with a cocoon of blankets wrapped around me like a straitjacket. I wrestle my way out of the blankets and nearly land face-first on the floor.Real graceful, Harrison.I manage to right myself as the bedroom door creaks open.

My head snaps up, hoping to glimpse Charlie’s handsome face, only to get Daniel wearing the biggest, most obnoxious smirk I’ve ever seen instead.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he drawls, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Sleep well?”

The smirk. The eyebrow waggle. The knowing tone.Oh shit.He heard us last night, didn’t he?

“Uh, morning,” I croak, wincing at how wrecked my voice sounds. “Sorry if we, um, woke you up last night.”

Daniel barks out a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been up all night. Not because the two of you were going at it like rabbits, though that certainly didn’t help matters. I was keeping an eye on Roy.”

The memory washes over me like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. Roy showed up to dinner last night with abandage wrapped around his forehead and some bullshit story about taking a tumble down the stairs.

I’m not an idiot. Roy’s bloodshot, bleary eyes told a very different story from the one he was selling us. One that I’m pretty sure involved ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall.

But it’s not my place to comment on the guy’s life choices. Lord knows I’ve made plenty of questionable ones myself. Still, I can’t help but feel a pang of concern for sweet, oblivious Charlie.

Daniel’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “You know, listening to you two was pretty fucking hot.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Oh?”

“So hot, in fact, that I rubbed one out first thing this morning in the shower thinking about it.”

His admission has my morning wood giving an “I’m interested” twitch beneath the sheet, which he notices.

He steps further into the room, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. His very large, very bare foot.

I gulp. “W-what are you doing?”

Daniel pads over to me, swaying his hips too much to be an innocent move. His boxers are tented obscenely, leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that I need to imagine anything at this point. I’ve seen him in all his glory before.

But there’s something different about this time.

“I can’t help noticing the tent you’re pitching there, Price,” he purrs, nodding at my obvious erection straining against the thin sheet. “Mind if my tent joins the party?”

My mouth goes dry as my eyes dart back down to his boxers. The head of his cock pokes out through the fly, already glistening with precome.

Fuck. Me.

Chapter 30

Promises, Promises

Charlie

Ah,the scent of good old-fashioned farm life. I never thought I’d miss it, but after being away at college for so long, it’s like a long-lost friend welcoming me home. Pungent and ripe, it fills my nostrils and lungs as I grab a pair of extra-large gloves from the hook hanging by the barn door.

I traipse over to Daisy’s stall, the clomping of my work boots echoing off the wooden flooring. She eyes me warily as I approach, her tail swishing in agitation. I know that look—it’s the “don’t even think about it, Chuck” glare. But I’m no stranger to Daisy’s attitude. She and I gowayback.

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