Pumping Iron (A Bad Boyfriends Novel-Book 2)
by Nya Rawlyns
GENRE: gay romance, gay romantic comedy, contemporary M/M romance
Sean Rourke is hiding in plain sight as a Bad Boyfriends A-list escort, hoping to dodge the bullet from a few career missteps.
Mike Douglas’ financial backing and very special negotiating skills have him partnering not-so-silently at Bad Boyfriends, as well as running a training center for athletes and gym rats.
Eying each other at a distance is all they’ve allowed themselves until a joint special project at a seaside retreat in the Hamptons, entertaining a wily Boston attorney, shows them exactly how well they fit together, in more ways than simply business as usual.
Sean Rourke is Bad Boyfriends’ A-list talent, the go-to guy when arm candy won’t do. Sean’s a looker and he’s caught the eye of Mike Douglas, the escort service’s silent partner, enforcer and financial backer. He is also trainer-to-the-stars, something that suits his military demeanor and fierce countenance.
They’ve danced around their attraction for each other for months, but when a project arises requiring both their very special talents, the close proximity of sharing a beach house at the Hamptons seems like the perfect opportunity to go beyond business as usual.
Except for one little thing … an interfering client who likes to watch.
Junior’s little secret was that of all the splendid things one could do with one’s time, watching young men fucking each other, in the flesh, was the ultimate viewing experience, and the only way Junior had a chance of coming. It was hit or miss, the coming part, but the watching for pleasure apparently hit the spot all the time.
If he had even the remotest clue we were going at it hot and heavy, he was going to guilt us into letting him voyeur his way into my checking account. My take on ten large per diem wasn’t insubstantial, and there was the added bonus for keeping him happy and off Boston’s upscale, high end streets until Monday earliest.
It wasn’t going to buy me financial independence but it feathered a nest in desperate need of new options, including paying off a debt that had driven me to Bad Boyfriends in the first place, hocking my cock and acting abilities while hiding in plain sight.
My mini-meltdown had taught me one thing: I could act my way out of a paper bag but that didn’t make me a good card player.
“You done?” Mike was standing, cock at full alert, arms crossed. It was a good look on him. It would look even better with me hammering his ass until he cried uncle, something I suspected wouldn’t happen all that easily.
“Don’t say it.” He smirked. He was thinking it … I think too much. Apropos of nothing, I observed, “We’re naked. How do you propose to do this?”
He pulled me off the bed and dragged my bare assed carcass to the door, opened it and pointed through the wall of trees.
“What the hell am I looking at?”
“Stairs to the upper deck.”
He tiptoed along the sandy path, his junk bobbing with the exaggerated movements. Putting a finger to his lips, he shushed me, then made a dash across the open space to the near side of the house and an attached ladder leading up to the second floor deck. He was up and over the railing before I’d even taken the first step. Not sure if I was supposed to wait while he secured the booty, or follow him and Tarzan my way up the ladder, I hesitated. He waved me to come up and join him.
Cottage. Single bed. Jerking off alone. Or king-sized bed, high thread count, condom and me buried deep into nirvana fucking a man I might be falling in love with? No contest. I dashed, I climbed, I conquered.
Giggling like schoolgirls, we barged through the patio door, with Mike sprinting to the bathroom. When he came out, I was sprawled on the bed, wallowing in comfort, stroking myself because it fucking hurt not to. He tossed a wrapper to me. It landed on my belly. I ignored it, liking the look in his eyes as he watched, eyes so filled with lust it damn near derailed me.
Taking pity, I said, “Lie down. I want to see your face when you come,” and made room on the bed while tearing at the wrapper and making quick work of rolling the damn condom on. I almost came right then and there. From the grimace on Mike’s face, he was so close it was clear this first one was going to be a quickie, for both of us.
He tossed the lube and drew his knees up, exposing himself to my tender ministrations, my finger easing in carefully. If it had been a while, he needed prep and not me going in like a battering ram, though everything inside my gut screamed for me to do just that.
You’re a professional, Rourke. You can control yourself. Do it right. Do it slow.
Mike hissed, “That’s enough. Just fucking do it already.” So I did, inch by slow inch and when he groaned, “Oh, fucking hell, Sean, fuck that’s good,” I moved, moved in the hot channel, lava hot with him clenching my cock tight, so tight I near exploded at the sensation.
Stretching his legs back, bending him almost in two, I watched his face, his eyes rolling back, felt him tense. And from the corner of my eye I caught Junior staring through the glass panel, drooling.
I rasped, trying to catch my breath, “He’s watching.”
Mike clenched his teeth, wadded the twelve hundred thread count Egyptian cotton in his bear paws, and bellowed, “Then give him his fucking money’s worth.”
So I did.
Pumping Iron (A Bad Boyfriends Novel) by Nya Rawlyns!
Sean Rourke is working as a Bad Boyfriends escort and trying to survive in his new career. Mike Douglas is running a training center for athletes and gym hotties and he is also the silent but not so silent partner of Bad Boyfriends. These two men have been looking at each other but from a distance and building the sexual and emotional connection.
While away in Hamptons to keep a lawyer from getting into trouble and trying to avoid the guys advances they are finding their attraction to each other to hard to exist. The hot sex and I mean hot sex between Sean and Mike is explosive but turns out to be much more of an emotional connection than they anticipated.
I truly enjoyed the hot and steamy chemistry between Sean and Mike and I loved how they unknowingly became so emotionally connected as that was so much fun to read. I was so happy when Mike offered Sean a desk job to get him out of the escort business. The drama truly starts when their pasts comes back to haunt them and creates some violent situations that these men have to overcome in order to survive and be with each other. I enjoyed the writing styles of this author and look forward to reading her other works.
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Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what's in your soul.
It's the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true.
Nya Rawlyns is the pseudonym of a writer who cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedy and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart. She writes M/M erotic romance because her good friends deserve to have their amazing stories told.
She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science.
When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or two pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
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Curling Iron - Pumping Iron(Crow Creek)Ash & Oak - Pulling Leather - Strapping Ash
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