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by B. A. Tortuga
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: JW thinks he's missed his chance at a romantic relationship with his best friend Rory forever, all because of a stupid moment when he was much younger. Rory wants JW desperately, but he knows his buddy just isn't into the kind of games Rory likes to play, let alone into long-term relationship with a guy. When JW comes home from a long haul on the road, though, and finds Rory in a compromising position, he knows he's found the way to correct his youthful mistake. Will Rory believe JW's jealous response?
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Birthstone, 2011 www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: June 2011
13 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [48 KB]
Reading time: 29-40 min.
It wasn't like JW's best friend Rory not to answer his phone.
Even if the man had a new flame, which JW had to admit Rory had a lot of, he would answer JW's calls. They did beer nearly every Saturday night, no matter what Rory was dating. JW didn't have a lot of faith in Rory's choices when it came to boyfriends.
JW had been trying to get Rory on the line since about eight in the morning, with no luck. He'd been on a three day run, so he wanted Rory to know he was going to be back in town for that beer.
Now it was three in the afternoon, and JW hadn't been able to catch up with his best buddy from high school, so he was using his spare key to let himself into Rory's place to snoop around. The man's truck was in the drive, after all, but the dogs were in the back, having a fucking fit. Rory loved those idiot beasts with a fiery passion.
Rory wouldn't ignore them, wouldn't leave them out there to starve or nothin'.
Damn, he hoped nothing awful had happened to the man. That would be a waste of mammoth proportions.
"Rory? You here, man?"
He thought he heard something from the back of the house, a grunt, a rattle. Shit. Had one of the dogs gotten stuck back in the bedrooms? JW started checking doors.
He got all the way to the bedrooms down the main hall, when he tried Rory's bedroom door. Locked.
What the hell? Rory would never lock the dogs out in the yard and lock himself in all day, even if he was sick or something. There had to be a problem.
He rattled the door knob again, hearing an answering sound on the other side of the door.
"Rory?" He knocked this time, really announcing he was there in a formal way.
Okay, that was a muffled cry for help. He knew it. It was a desperate sound.
He looked at the door. It would be a matter of minutes to pick the lock. Took him two seconds to kick the soft spot next to the latch. What he saw when the door popped open, though, made him just stop and stare.
Rory -- wide-eyed and panicky -- was cuffed to the bed, a big red gag in his mouth, one hell of a bruise on his jaw.