Bare for You: Outback Skies, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

lover he was. Not with a partner the likes of Ryan. The lack of knowledge, however, only served to increase the base pleasure claiming him. Controlling him.
    As brutal as his hands were on his cock and balls, he ached for Ryan’s mouth and hands to be even more so.
    Where had this come from? This unexpected need to be dominated by a man he barely knew?
    And why was he so aroused by it? So…so…enslaved by it?
    “Do you fuck like you kiss?”
    An image of Ryan filled Jeremy’s head. Ryan naked, prowling towards him, his cock large and rigid and venous, his chest hairy, his stare fixed on Jeremy.
    He surrendered to the image. To the mental fantasy of the man capturing his lip without a word. To the powerful dream of Ryan plundering his mouth with a tongue as dominating as the hand fucking Jeremy’s cock.
    He gave himself over to the invention of the heli-musterer in charge of his pleasure.
    Fucked his hand even as he told his body it was Ryan’s hand, Ryan’s mouth, Ryan’s—
    His orgasm detonated before he could stop it.
    Head thrown back, Jeremy roared with a release as unexpected and powerful as his lust for Ryan Taylor.
    His seed spurt from him in throbbing pulses, wetting his fingers, his stomach, his toes.
    And even as the stark realization he was ejaculating on the deputy prime minister’s bedroom floor hit him, the potent fantasy of Ryan bringing him to climax prevented him from stopping.
    Prevented him from doing anything except moan with pleasure and—eventually—sink to his knees on the plush carpet and wonder how he was going to survive his time in Wallaby Ridge.

Chapter Four
    After a night of refusing to touch himself or the rigid pole his cock had become, Ryan could only let out a ragged groan as the minister for the arts and culture exited Broken Downs homestead.
    The politician wasn’t playing fair.
    With the pale dawn sun barely breaking the eastern horizon, the light that bathed Jeremy as he crossed to Ryan’s helicopter only served to highlight the absolute perfection of his appearance.
    His hair was immaculately swept back from his high forehead. His glasses were spotless. A purple tie, pinstriped with thin silver lines, knotted at the base of his smooth—no doubt, freshly shaved—throat. He wore no suit jacket, but his shirt seemed almost to burn with pristine whiteness, emphasizing the toned physique Ryan had spent the night imagining must be beneath it. Dark charcoal pants highlighted the long length of his legs, just snug enough around the thighs to hint at their muscular strength. On his feet, he wore black shoes polished to a sun-rivalling shine.
    Ryan took one look at him and swore he was going to rip the shirt right from the man’s body.
    For a surreal moment, as he killed the chopper’s engine, the words of his jest to Charlie the day before came back to him.
    “I like to dirty ’em up,” he’d declared. Of course, at the time, he’d been talking about a nonexistent sexual relationship with a movie star.
    Who could have guessed mere hours later, he would be craving to dirty up a man he actually knew?
    You know you can’t really dirty him up, right? He’s a politician here on official duty. And despite the way he kissed you last night, he’s never declared he was gay.
    Keeping that thought in the forefront of his mind, Ryan removed the headphones from his ears, returned his cowboy hat to his head and swung open the pilot’s door.
    “Minister,” he said as Jeremy crossed the manicured lawn to where Ryan had landed.
    A foot from where he stood, Jeremy stopped. “Do I have to ask you to call me Jeremy again?”
    Ryan couldn’t help his low chuckle. Nor rein in his gaze as it slowly roamed over Jeremy from head to toe. Subtlety had never really been Ryan’s strong suit. “I think you may have to.”
    The challenge felt loaded, even though it was meant to be flippant.
    Jeremy’s Adam’s apple jerked up and down the column of his throat, his stare fixed on Ryan’s face.