Sorry, Bro Read Online Free

behind the garment’s clumsy plastic zipper.
    Crossing his arms, Adrian leant back, a concerned expression on his face. “Man, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Can I at least give you a ride home? It’s got to be a hundred degrees out. Let’s not even start talking about humidity.”
    Bryce glanced back at Adrian. He didn’t know what the hell had got into him the past few days. The sudden breakup with Tatum. Tim, still out cold. Plus, he was fucking horny as hell…and Adrian seemed so honest, so genuine, so empathetic.
    What was it about this masculine surgeon that caused his cock to spring to life and his heart to race? Could it be the man’s certainty, his steadiness? The fact that he had saved Tim’s life? The fact that he was so god damned beautiful…but in a different way than either of his two previous girlfriends? Sure, Tatum had had a great ass and a nice face, had one hell of a cunt and knew how to ride like a cowgirl. But this man was both powerful and tender. Somehow, Adrian reminded Bryce of Tim.
    But the most important question—why the hell did the kiss have to be so good?
    Bryce pulled his shirt down over his head and nodded. “Sure,” he said.

    * * * *

    Even with the air conditioning running full-blast in Adrian’s Beemer, Bryce’s shirt was practically soaked through by the time he clicked the lock open on the flimsy door to his apartment.
    Bryce stammered, “Hey, man, thanks for the ride…”
    Adrian had seen Bryce to the door. He nodded curtly and cleared his throat. “Mind if I come in for a drink before I go? I could use something to cool off.”
    Bryce shrugged and pushed the door open so that he could slip inside, holding it open for Adrian to follow. Inside, Bryce paused in front of Adrian, staring at his wrinkled scrubs. “Beer…coke…?” Bryce glanced up, waiting for a response.
    Without a word, Adrian took a step forward, studying Bryce before placing his hands on the other man’s hips, grasping the fraying hem of his white undershirt, and pulling upwards, peeling the damp fabric from his body.
    Almost immediately, and without explanation, Bryce was lost in Adrian’s dark eyes, released by the power in this man’s hands. Mechanically, Bryce lifted his arms and allowed Adrian to whisk the fabric up over his head.
    Dropping the rumpled shirt onto the floor beside him, Adrian leant forward and gripped the nape of Bryce’s neck, guiding his head up so that their lips met, just softly at first.
    The moment before, Bryce had felt too self-conscious to speak, but without explanation, he suddenly felt giddy, and his heart raced. “Bro, that’s nice,” he whispered between kisses. He thought fleetingly of Tim, then closed his eyes. He focused on Adrian’s bulk, the soothing warmth of his hands and his torso, the insistence of his exquisitely shaped mouth and the ticklishness of his scruff.
    Bryce parted his lips just barely and welcomed Adrian’s tongue—a warm flick inside his mouth at first, until Bryce sighed and pushed upwards more forcefully. The stirring inside his pants hadn’t gone away between their kiss in the locker room and their arrival at Bryce’s apartment, but now his cock pulsated to life, straining against his underwear and shorts. He brushed the growing bulge in Adrian’s pants, and again, he strained forward.
    As Adrian’s lips tickled his neck, Bryce considered the situation and wondered whether Adrian would leave any hickeys, and whether they would be noticeable above the low neckline of his scrubs at work the next day. And if they were, he tried to imagine the explanation he would give to Trina—breakup sex with Tatum?—then considered whether she would even believe his story. And if she did, how long would it take for the lie to reach Tatum’s ears? After all, New Orleans was a small city.
    But Adrian’s touch, his practiced mouth and sure hands, were overpowering, and Bryce pushed the worry far from his mind.
    Adrian smiled and,