Love in Xxchange: Miles to Go

by Bailey Bradford

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  and cracked the bottom half of his face against the back of Bo’s head. He managed to wrap his arms around Bo and twist around as they slammed into the floor. Max’s breath spewed from his lungs as his back hit the hardwood floor, followed immediately by Bo’s weight coming down on his chest. He rolled them to their sides, gasping for air, as he locked his squirming lover in his arms.

  “Ain’t letting you run off, Bo,” Max murmured against the man’s ear. “You’re going to have to accept that I love you, and I think you love me, too.”

  Bo whimpered and shook his head. “I do, Max,” although he couldn’t say the words just yet, “how could I not? But you can’t love me! You haven’t ever been with anyone else, this could just be an infatuation or—”

  Max rolled Bo to his back and took his mouth in a kiss he had meant to be tender but was more than a little angry and possessive. When he ended the kiss, Bo looked blissed out, his full lips rosy and more plump than usual, his eyes filled with a dazed look.

  “I told you I can, and that’s all that matters.” Max had to take another nip of those sweet lips. Bo moaned and bucked beneath him, stabbing at Max’s taut stomach with his erection. “I don’t know why you think you’re unloveable, but that ain’t the case.”

  Bo blinked furiously but it didn’t help this time. Tears spilled, rolling from the corners of his eyes, over his temples and into his hair. “I want to believe you, I do, but you haven’t had any other sexual experience except what we’ve done together.”

  Max pushed himself up on his elbows and glared. “So, what? You saying you won’t

  believe I love you ‘til I’ve gone out and fucked a few men? Or does it need to be more?”

  Bo nearly headbutted Max in his attempt to sit up. “No! That isn’t what I meant!

  Just…maybe you should explore your options.”

  “I don’t have any other options,” Max snapped, his patience evaporated. “I don’t want any other options!”

  “You don’t know that!”

  Max stood up, grabbing one of Bo’s wrists as he did so. “Yes, I do know that! I never wanted anyone before you, Bo, and I don’t want anyone else now!”

  Bo’s expression showed his disbelief.

  “I’m going to get this through to you one way or another,” Max snapped. “I hope to hell dinner is still good when I’m done with you.” Max jerked on Bo’s arm and had the man over his shoulder before Bo could protest. “Blow out the candle.” Max slapped Bo on the ass and MILES TO GO

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  turned around so Bo was facing the candle. He heard and felt the expulsion of breath as Bo blew the flickering flame out. “All right then, let’s go.”

  He ignored Bo’s protests that Max couldn’t really love him, his wiggling, everything but his need to make Bo believe him. He opened the door to their room and within three steps, he was dropping Bo onto the surface of their bed. Max pointed a finger at him and used his sternest voice.

  “You’re going to tell me what the problem is, and you’re going to do it now.” Max tumbled onto the bed and pulled Bo against his side. “You are going to understand that I love you and don’t want anybody else, ever.”

  Bo sniffled and shrugged his shoulders. “I think you believe it, at least.”

  That wasn’t going to do at all. It would take some convincing, but Max was going to prove to Bo that he was worth being loved, and that Max was just the man to do it.

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  Chapter Thirteen

  Bo was torn. He thought he should keep some space between them, but he wanted to snuggle in close and soak up the comfort that seemed to roll off Max in waves—except then he’d be more likely to babble. There was nothing like feeling safe to loosen Bo’s tongue, as he’d found out since falling for Max. If he was going to have to talk, though, he’d rather stick to the bare boned facts. Bo started to roll away, intent on sitting up and putting a little distance between them. Max made a noise that sounded like a snarl and pulled Bo back to his side, one rough hand carefully pressing Bo’s head until he rested it on Max’s chest.

  “Want you right here,” Max said firmly even as his hands stroked gently over Bo’s back. “You don’t realise I got you figured out. You think scooting away a bit’s going to give you some emotional distance, but I want everything, Bo. Bad and good. If you really want me to let you go, though, I will.”

  Bo considered his options, which were to talk, or not, move away or stay. He slid his hand down the ridged plane of Max’s shirt-covered abdomen, wishing the material would magically vanish. His fingers teased at the waistband of Max’s jeans then dipped beneath it and the elastic of the boxers. Before he could plunge his hand down further to grasp Max’s cock, his wrist was caught in a strong grasp.

  “That ain’t going to work this time,” Max told him, sounding more amused than irritated. “I went forty-three years without anyone else touching me, I can do without as long as it takes to get you to talk to me.”

  Bo yanked his wrist out of Max’s hold and pushed himself up so he could glare down at his lover. “You’re telling me you won’t put out until I talk? What the hell?” His stomach clenched then did a little fear inspired dip. “You don’t want me like I want you.” The realisation hurt, like someone poured acid on every one of his nerve endings.

  Max sat up and wrapped his arms around Bo. He flopped back and took Bo with him, laying them both out on the bed. “I do want you, Bo, more than you could ever know, which is why I want you to tell me what your reasoning is for thinking I don’t know who or what I want.” Max cupped Bo’s jaw and tipped his head up, forcing Bo to meet his worried gaze. “I want to know why you think you don’t deserve to be loved. I want the doubts and fears, not MILES TO GO

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  just the laughter and joy. I told you, Bo—the good and the bad. Do you want any less from me?”

  “Well, when you say it like that…” Damn man would have to turn it right around on him, wouldn’t he? But maybe that’s exactly what Bo needed, someone who wouldn’t be swayed by the promise of a tight ass, who cared enough about Bo, the person, to push aside Bo’s attempts at deflection. Maybe Max wasn’t rejecting him, but offering him everything, if Bo would only take the chance. Besides, what did he have to lose? He already loved Max insanely, and he trusted Max not to hurt him. Which meant the only reason Bo was clinging to his silence was pride. “Shit. I can be such an ass.”

  Max’s chuckle filled Bo with reassuring warmth. “You ain’t an ass, honey, just someone who’s been hurt, like most of us have. You just have to know when to let go of the hurt.

  You’re safe with me, Bo. I won’t turn away from you for anything.”

  It was the calm, steady love lacing Max’s voice and flickering in his nut-brown eyes that convinced Bo. That, and the endearment. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called ‘honey’, but it was the first time anyone had ever said it with such tenderness. Still, his cheeks started burning, a heat which spread all the way down to his chest.

  “It’s stupid,” Bo muttered. Plenty of people had faced a hell of a lot worse than him and come out just fine.

  “Nothing that makes you hurt is stupid,” Max said. Bo felt the barest brush of lips against his temple. He listened to the steady thrumming of Max’s heart, the muted whoosh of his lover’s breaths, until his lungs worked in synch with Max’s.

  Closing his eyes, Bo exhaled and forced himself to speak. “I guess…maybe it all started with my momma. Don’t know who my daddy was, and from all the talk in the family, she probably didn’t, either. She was a partier, and her parents had washed their hands of her years before I was born. The only things I know about her came from them, along with the story of how I ended up being abandoned. I wasn’t even a year old when she went off to some party and left me alone in the crib. Left a few bottles of j
uice, and that was all. Didn’t tell no one, didn’t ask anyone to check on me—nothing. The cops said it was probably a couple of days I was alone until one of the neighbours in the next apartment called in because they’d heard me screaming, then…not. Someone noticed no one had come and gone from the apartment. If they hadn’t called, I’d have been dead before morning.”

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  “Bo, Jesus…” Max’s arms tightened around Bo, nearly squeezing the breath out of him.

  “I’m so sorry, honey. Some people shouldn’t ever be parents. Please tell me the police put her ass in jail.”

  Bo shook his head and bit back the hysterical laugh that threatened to break free.

  “Nope. No one knows what happened to her. She vanished. I used to think maybe she meant to come back for me, but her folks—my grandparents—told me she’d packed up all her shit when she left, so she meant for me to die. I don’t know why she—” Why she hated me.

  “She was a waste of a human being,” Max rasped, his voice thick and gravelly. “She didn’t deserve you, but I thank God that she had you, and if I can find those neighbours, I’ll go thank them, drop right down on my knees and worship at their feet for saving you.” A series of kisses landed on Bo’s forehead and cheek. “You know that was her being a mess, it wasn’t your fault?”

  “Yeah, I know that up here”—Bo tapped at his head—“but it won’t sink in, not when my first memories are of my grandparents telling me what a burden I was, and how they shouldn’t have to raise a bastard like me.” Bo ignored Max’s curses and continued. “They died when I was six, a house fire when I’d been sent to stay with one of my aunts for the weekend. Grandpa was a heavy smoker, and you know the rest of that story. Falling asleep with a lit cigarette doesn’t turn out well for anyone. After that, I was passed around to whatever relative would put up with me for a while. Not a one of them wanted me, but they were all pretty image-conscious and didn’t want to appear to be the heartless people they were, you know. So in public they tolerated me, but in private…” Bo could still hear the hateful comments, the crushing words that destroyed a lonely little boy’s hope for love. “In private, they let me know just how much they didn’t want me. Even had a couple of them tell me I should have died when my momma ran off.”

  Max rumbled and Bo could feel the man’s muscles tensing, could almost scent his

  anger. Instead of a trite line, though, Max merely said, “I’m sorry, honey. You know I mean it, but you need to tell me the rest.”

  Bo opened his eyes and glanced up at Max, who was looking at him with that shining burst of love in his dark eyes. “How did you know there’s more to it than the poor, unloved orphan story?”

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  Max’s lips tipped up in the barest of grins. “‘Like I said, I know you. I don’t know your past, but you, well, sometimes it’s like you’re so deep under my skin I can hear your thoughts, you know?”

  Bo blinked. “That’s actually kind of creepy, Max.” Or kind of sweet.

  “Nah.” Max shrugged his shoulders, jostling Bo. “Ain’t creepy, just means I pay

  attention to you, and not only when we’re making love. It means I see you, not that flirty dude you show everyone else.”

  “I flirt with you, too,” Bo pointed out, but he couldn’t look into Max’s eyes any longer, not when he knew Max could read everything Bo felt.

  “Sure you do, but it ain’t an act when you do it with me, not like it is with Rory or Chance.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Bo agreed. “I’m not teasing with you. I’m really offering.”

  Max’s fingers traced over Bo’s jaw, then hooked under his chin, tipping his head up. Bo opened his eyes and found himself pinned by Max’s penetrating stare. “And did anyone else ever think it was an offer when it wasn’t?”

  Bo’s mouth dropped open as he shivered. “How do you do that? That’s just fucking scary!”

  “Bo…” Max sighed as Bo continued to look at him, waiting for an explanation. “It’s just from years of watching people, okay? Trying to figure out why people do what they do. It was easier than trying to figure out my own mess.”

  Max had told Bo about his own childhood, which was as fucked up as Bo’s in its own way. Bo wouldn’t have wanted to deal with it, either—much like he hadn’t dealt with his own past. But Max was a stronger man than he ever would be.

  He realised Max was waiting for an answer. Bo looked away and nodded once, a sharp, jerky movement that was more like a muscle spasm in his neck than an admission. “Yeah.

  First time was when I was fourteen and just figured out I found boys attractive instead of girls. Saw this one guy at the convenience store by where I was living, and he was…he was big, all masculine and hard and everything I wasn’t. Caught him looking at me and thought I’d be cute, wink a time or two, shake my ass when I walked off. Didn’t know he was following me. I didn’t get more than a block before he pulled over and offered me a ride. I was a dumb kid, and he…he told me I wanted it, that I looked like I wanted it, so he…he did—”

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  “Bo,” Max whispered, trying to tug him up higher.

  Bo ignored him. “He kept me for hours, made sure I knew everything that could go on between two guys. I couldn’t tell anyone, either, once he showed me his badge. No one would take my word over a cop’s, and my family would have disowned me. Couldn’t have a fag in the family, you know. They would have said it was my fault, and it was, since I’d looked at him like that and—”

  “Bo!” Max thundered, snapping Bo back to the present, tearing him out of memories that still made his body tremble with remembered pain. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that!

  You were just a kid, and he was someone who abused you and the trust his position implied.”

  “I know,” Bo murmured, “but it happened more than once—not with him, never saw

  him again. I just stepped right into the pattern of being a victim, setting myself up to be one.

  Then one day I realised I was going to get myself killed like that, and as much as I didn’t like myself, I did like living. I started flirting and offering, and controlling what happened.”

  “No, you were still a victim,” Max argued. “You just switched it up to where you could tell yourself you weren’t, that you were putting out willingly, but you were doing it to keep from being…being hurt again. If you gave it away, they couldn’t take it, could they? And you never thought you deserved any better because, what? You thought you were dirty, maybe?”

  Bo felt scraped raw from the inside out. Max had it figured out, mostly. “Damaged,” Bo corrected. “Unlovable. Undeserving. Good for nothing but a place for some guy to—”

  “Bullshit!” Max rolled them over, pinning Bo with his weight. He tilted up Bo’s chin. Bo tried not to look at Max, tried to keep from raising his eyes, but he couldn’t resist, not when he knew Max would wait with all the patience Bo’d never had. He managed to look at Max through nearly-closed lids. “All those people, none of them saw you, honey. Not a one of them bothered to look. Not when you were a little boy, aching to belong, to be loved, not when you were a confused teenager who needed support, not when you were a grown man who still had those two wounded versions of himself as a kid locked inside. Instead, you were hurt, and maybe you let yourself be used later on, because you didn’t know any other way, but that don’t mean you deserved any of it, Bo.”

  Bo wanted to believe Max, but he didn’t know how. He started to shake his head only to remember that Max still cupped his chin. Max’s eyes were welling with the threat of tears, the tip of his nose red, but he looked at Bo with so much love that Bo didn’t know how to MILES TO GO

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  handle it. He began to shake, as if his body wanted to turn inside out, deep, gut-wrenching sh
udders that caused his muscles to cramp and his lungs to squeeze out each breath in a rasping pant. He dimly realised that his face was wet, that even now tears were running from the outer edges of his eyes, down to his temples and into his hair.

  Max rolled them again until Max was on his back and Bo was laying on him. Bo buried his head against Max’s neck, gritting his teeth through the racking spasms that shook him.

  He slowly became aware of Max’s murmured words of love in his ear, of Max’s hands caressing him, his strong arms holding Bo.

  “I love you, honey,” Max uttered over and over as Bo struggled to get himself together, yet every time Max said those words, Bo’s heart ached with his desire to believe them.

  “How can you?” Bo finally asked when he could unclench his jaw. He felt shredded, utterly demolished and shattered.

  “How can I not?” Max countered. “I’ve waited my whole life just for you, Bo, forty-three years, just for you. You’re the only person who’s ever made me want anything, and I will love you every minute of this lifetime and every minute after it, too.”

  Some of the shards started mending themselves back together with Max’s declaration.

  Slowly, the pain began to ebb, not leaving, but simmering to a bearable throb. Bo studied Max intently, seeing everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever needed there in Max’s dark eyes—if he could only just believe.

  “You’re everything I want,” Max rasped. “More than I deserve, but I’m keeping you.

  You say I’m a good man, right?”

  “The best,” Bo agreed.

  “Then trust me to love you,” Max urged. “Trust me to know that you deserve it, and maybe you’ll see that you really do. Please, honey, let me.”

  Bo couldn’t deny Max anything, not when Bo loved the man with an intensity that

  rocked him to his very soul. “I will,” he promised, feeling a little bit more of the pain slide away. “I do.” And I love you so much, you wonderful, stubborn, sexy man. And Bo would tell him that, just as soon as he could say it without trembling in fear. He knew in his heart Max wouldn’t reject him, now he just had to get the message through to his brain.