Free Runaway Model by Parker Avrile Page A

Kyle's moans grew louder as Bryce's head bobbed up and down. Moans? More like screams by the end.
    He shuddered endlessly against Bryce's face.
    Now it was Kyle's turn to make a man scream. His eyes had gone so dark they seemed black instead of brown. He didn't need the fantasy any more. Pushing away from the floor-to-ceiling windows, he bundled Bryce down on his back on the nearest couch.
    This one was leather—a deep brown leather the next thing to black. Bryce's cock reached for the sky. Now that he no longer held Kyle in his mouth, he found himself gasping frantically for air. Funny how it was only at this moment that he realized he couldn't quite breathe.
    "Let's make it nice and tasty." Kyle began to drip champagne drop by teasing drop in a crooked line from Bryce's collarbone to his inner thighs.
    Fuck, Bryce was hot. Any hotter, and the champagne would boil off his body like steam.
    "I need it now. Fuck. You little tease."
    Not so little, actually. The energetic Kyle had already rebounded. Bryce had to hold onto something to keep the room from spinning, and thus he found himself squeezing two fat fistfuls of cock while Kyle continued to sweep his tongue from collarbone to navel.
    "Now, now, now." Bryce heard himself begging. "Please. Do it now, or I'll explode all over this fucking couch. Let me come. Make me come."
    Kyle's head dipped. Those gifted lips focused very deliberately on the sweet spot just below the mushroom head. Bryce couldn't have held back to save his entire fortune.
    "I'm coming. Fuck. Oh God. Fuck—!"
    His hands massaged Kyle's renewed erection in all the key places. If he timed things just right...
    Yes. Now. Yes.
    Kyle spewed across Bryce's legs while Bryce himself emptied vividly into Kyle's hot mouth.
    Bryce might have been twenty-one himself to judge from how long he gushed and gushed and couldn't stop. His hips jerked helplessly against Kyle's face for what felt like hours.

Chapter Five
    T here's something about a new lover's whisper. Even in a suite as big as a house, even over the constant purr of a Las Vegas resort's air-conditioning system, Bryce awoke with a sweaty jerk when he heard it. He couldn't make out actual words. Just the soft distinctive murmur of someone trying to talk into a phone.
    Bryce slipped naked from the sheets and wandered the halls in search of that murmur. He ended up in the kitchen, where Kyle had stopped talking and started texting. The tip-tap of keys told Bryce nothing.
    There was a silver pot of coffee in front of him. Two heavy mugs. A delivery from Bryce's butler. "Fair trade shade-grown rainforest coffee beans roasted personally by flocks of endangered macaws," Kyle said. "Want some?" He hadn't dressed. Long bare legs stretched out from the fluffy white robe supplied by the resort.
    It would be so easy for Kyle to slide out of that robe. Bryce's cock stirred at the thought. "Come back to bed, honey."
    When Bryce thought about it, he tried not to say "honey" too much. It sounded too southern. And too intimate for non-southern ears. But he had other things on his mind at the moment.
    Kyle kept typing. No text was that long. He must be leaving a Facebook post. "I have a responsibility to the fans."
    Fans? Bryce thought about what he'd overheard in the bar. The other shoe dropped. "Who's Stoney? Who are you?"
    "You obviously know who Stoney is." Kyle kept typing away, his thumbs working at speed. "We're just... fans. We take photos for Instagram and Twitter. Photos with Stoney. To share. Without pay. It's harmless. It even helps Stoney. It's free publicity."
    Bryce realized he could Google Stoney. Later. The chill running up and down his spine wasn't about some random band guy.
    "Of course Stoney has to make it a challenge. So only the genuine fans care enough to track him and find him..."
    Kyle sounded so young in that moment. Almost like a teen girl with a Tumblr blog.
    Bryce told himself to breathe. "How old did you say you were?"
    "I'm twenty-one. You saw