Six Ways from Sunday Read Online Free PDF Page A

something close enough to it.
    He paid the driver, giving him something extra to cover the distance, and climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor entrance. The house looked like something out of a movie. Not really big, but expensive to look at and old. The lights outside were soft. No cars sat around to indicate anyone was home. For a moment he worried that Bo would still be talking to reporters but the door opened and Dylan found himself inside and pressed hard against the wood before he could even raise his hand to knock.
    “What took you so long?” Bo didn’t wait for him to answer before sealing their mouths together. And Dylan melted into him. Six years. More than six years, nearly seven. He wrapped his arms around Bo’s neck, letting the big man lift him off his feet. Dylan wrapped his legs around Bo’s waist.
    “I-came-first-chance-I-could.” Was all he could gasp out between kisses, loving the way Bo’s hard body fit against his. He traced the defined muscles under the championship t-shirt. The loose nylon shorts Bo wore did nothing to conceal his erection. “Please tell me we’re alone?”
    “Completely.” Bo grasped his ass and hefted him close. Holding him tight as he walked across the room, passing furniture and other rooms. Dylan didn’t break eye contact, he didn’t even think to protest the handling. He fucking loved the rough handling. Not many men could push him around like he was a doll.
    “Fuck, you got big,” was all he could think to say when Bo dropped him into the middle of a huge bed. Soft came up to swallow him as hard descended from above him. Sandwiched between heaven and hell, Dylan reached up to trace the line of Bo’s chiseled jaw. “I missed you so damned much.”
    “Kiss now, talk later.” Bo crawled over him, pushing at clothes, pulling off shoes and dropping them to the floor. He kept his mouth on Dylan’s as if he’d stop breathing if they weren’t connected. The rush of blood to parts of his body that made him weak. Rough fingers shoved his jeans down to his knees. Only then did Bo release his mouth to stare down at him. “I might have gotten huge but you’re fucking cut now. Look at you. A fucking recon. Baddest of the bad.”
    Dylan loved the way Bo’s hazel gaze caressed his body. Hot molten lava burned in his veins. His dick stood at attention for Bowen. “Fuck now, talk later,” he tossed the words back, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be.
    Bo flipped him onto his belly and dragged his jeans the rest of the way down his legs. “So damned fucking bad. Look at you, ass in the air, begging like a girl.” There was no malice in his words.
    Dylan shoved his ass higher at the taunt. “At least I can get it up. Are you going to fuck or talk all night?” Dylan didn’t bat an eye when Bo pulled a ribbon of condoms from beneath the pillow along with a bottle of lube. Six years was a long time to be celibate. A long fucking time. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Cold gel slithered down his crack, hot fingers rubbed it in, going deep enough that Dylan forgot all about the condoms and the lube and just moved. “I missed you.”
    The sound of a condom wrapper tearing and the scent of latex filled his senses. Bo leaned over him, his mouth grazing Dylan’s ear just as the blunt head of his cock pushed into him.
    “Missed you so damned much. Want to keep you here forever.”
    Dylan grunted when Bo pressed him into the mattress, his balls now flush against Dylan’s ass. They lay still, just breathing, adjusting. “You can keep me just like this for one week.”
    “Naked and impaled. God damn, that is probably the sexiest damn tattoo I’ve ever seen.” Teeth scraped the bulldog tat on his shoulder. Bo moaned and bit into him, making him moan and slam his body back into the giant pinning him to the bed.
    “Worship the ink later. Make me come, now. Fuck you smell so good.”
    “I stink but thanks for noticing.” Bo flexed his hips,