Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance (14 page)

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Authors: Bailey Bradford

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BOOK: Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance
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He felt a moment of panic when he realised his brain had sent the signal to his mouth to speak. Chance hadn’t planned to say anything, not yet, but…

“You know I love you, Rory.”

It was easy. He’d worried he would stumble over the words, wouldn’t know how to say them since he’d never said them before.

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Rory’s eyes widened with surprise—Chance heard his lover’s breath rush out like someone had kicked the man in the diaphragm, his mouth dropped open and stayed that way for a few seconds. Long enough that Chance was about to reach out and push Rory’s chin up.

Instead he brushed his fingers along the square line of Rory’s jaw, watching as Rory’s skin heated up with a flush and a brilliant smile formed on that wide, sexy mouth.

“God, Chance, you know, I wanted to tell you before that I love you but…” Rory’s words were rushed together like he was afraid Chance would cut him off before he could get the proclamation out. “You told me to think about it, but I didn’t need to, Chance. I’ve loved you for a while and knew it before we ever even—and I need you inside me. Now.” Rory stood and tugged on Chance’s hand.

He didn’t need any more encouragement; Chance got off the couch and tore his gaze from his lover’s heart-melting eyes. He looked at Max and Bo who were watching intently.

With a sheepish grin, he shrugged his shoulders. The other two men grinned back.

“Go on, me and Bo here will be all right.” Max tipped his head towards Bo. “Might be best if we head over to the bunkhouse, play some poker if ya have a mind to.”

Bo’s eyes were lit with mischief. “Yeah, I have a feeling it’s gonna get noisy in here.” He stood and looked at Max. “Lead the way, buddy.”

Chance and Rory didn’t stay to watch them leave. Together they walked to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. The first kiss was tender and sweet—an exploration of their newly admitted love. Rory opened for Chance like a gift, soft lips parting to let Chance’s tongue sweep in and brush across the roof of his mouth.

The scent of Rory, man and soap with a hint of sweat, filled Chance’s senses as he twined his tongue with his lover’s. He gripped Rory’s hips, felt him tremble then Rory’s arms were wrapping around his shoulders, those big hands cupping his neck and the back of his head. Chance pulled Rory’s hips in and ground their cocks together, and the kiss went from sweet to scorching in a flash.

He stepped back and reached for Rory’s shirt, carefully unbuttoning it as his lover stood trembling before him. He pushed the shirt down Rory’s broad shoulders until it hung on his wrists. Chance trailed his fingers down Rory’s arms, the skittering breaths from the man making Chance’s cock throb with anticipation. The buttons that held the shirt on at the wrists were frustratingly smaller but Chance finally worked them free and tossed the shirt RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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aside.

He walked Rory backwards, stopping only when the bed hit the back of his knees. Rory sat and Chance kneeled down on the floor. He tugged off Rory’s boots and socks then unfastened his jeans.

“Lay back, baby.” Chance grabbed the sides of Rory’s waistband and briefs and pulled, heart beating a little faster when Rory lifted his hips up and his pretty cock was freed. He leant down and ran his tongue from the base of Rory’s cock to the spongy head, swiping over the leaking slit to lap up the glistening pre cum gathered there.

Rory groaned and reached for him but Chance stood up and finished stripping the jeans from his lover’s body. Rory was so perfect Chance thought his heart might just break from the beauty of him, but he wanted more. “Scoot up to the centre and spread out for me.”

Rory did as he asked, arms and legs spread wide and now it was Chance’s turn to feel like someone had kicked him in the diaphragm. Golden skin and chiseled muscle a god would envy was laid out before him, those dark blue eyes black with passion. Chance studied Rory, wanting to memorise every detail of this moment, from the top of his angelic blond head, to the proud, thick shaft tapping against his lover’s hard stomach. The heavy sac with its light coating of hair made Chance’s mouth water with need, then there was the tight pink hole that clenched as he looked at it.

Need so strong he thought it would bring him to his knees shot through Chance. He made himself finish, taking note of the defined muscles in Rory’s thighs and calves, and the long, narrow feet that held such a strong man.

Bringing his gaze back to Rory’s, Chance began removing his clothes, feeling his lover’s stare like a physical caress. He’d planned to be smooth and steady, but anything that kept him from being inside Rory suddenly seemed foolish.

Chance kicked off his boots and peeled down his jeans and underwear. He unbuttoned his shirt far enough to get it over his head then pulled it off, cursing when the buttons at the wrist kept him from removing it easily. Chance got them undone, though he thought he heard one or two of them hit the floor. He toed off his socks and climbed onto the bed between Rory’s thighs.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed Rory’s calves and tugged until Rory’s legs were bent at the knees and his feet flat on the bed.

“Damn, baby, you are so perfect, your cock hard and dripping.” Chance couldn’t pull RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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his gaze away from the vision before him. “Your balls already pulling up tight, and here—”

He ran a finger from Rory’s perineum to his pink hole. “Here you fucking take my breath.”

Rory moaned and started to sit up, reaching for Chance. “Please, Chance, I need you to fuck me.”

Chance chuckled and evaded Rory’s grasp. “I am. I’d wanted to do more, but not this time, not with you looking at me like that. It’s going to be hard and fast.”

Rory was nodding vigorously, the movement jerky enough that it made his cock bounce. Chance rubbed his finger over Rory’s hole, pressing firmly but not penetrating.

“Lube. Rory, I need—” Chance snatched the tube out of the air. Rory must have tucked it under the pillow last night, Chance thought, then let his brain shut off and his body take over.

He popped open the cap and poured a thin line lube straight onto his dick. He rubbed it in quickly, too eager and needy to trust himself. Another dollop for his fingers, then he poured some right below Rory’s balls, letting the liquid slide down to Rory’s puckered opening.

Chance couldn’t wait, didn’t have the strength to play. He rubbed a knuckle over Rory’s hole then pushed the tip of his index finger in. Rory jerked his hips and pushed down trying to take more. Chance thrust his finger in Rory’s clenching heat and twisted his wrist, dragging his finger across the spongy gland and causing Rory to gasp and writhe on the bed.

He pumped his finger into Rory until he felt the little ring of muscles loosen enough for him to slide a second finger in. Chance worked Rory’s ass, corkscrewing his fingers and rubbing Rory’s prostate until Rory was almost sobbing with need.

He pulled his fingers out and grabbed Rory’s legs. Chance put his hands on the back of Rory’s thighs and pushed his lover’s legs up until they nearly lay on Rory’s chest. Rory reached down and held his legs, spreading himself. Chance lined up his cock and began pressing in. He leant over Rory, holding himself up on his forearms as Rory locked his legs around Chance’s waist and squeezed.

Chance got the hint. He lowered himself and slid his hands under Rory’s back, latching on to his shoulders from the underside. Then he thrust hard and sunk balls-deep into his man. Rory’s back arched and his inner muscles clamped down hard and Chance knew he wasn’t going to last long at all. He started to push himself up enough for Rory to slip a hand between them and jack himself but Rory shook his head and pulled Chance down firmly RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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against him. Chance looked into Rory’s slitted eyes and felt the heat from those midnight depths skitter down his spine.

“Just like this, it’s all I need.” Rory licked Chance’s lips and Chance decided his lover knew what suited him best.

Chance drew his hips back, almost withdrawing entirely before slamming back into Rory’s tight ass. He tried to get a rhythm going but he was too far gone and Rory was too damn intoxicating. Chance’s thrusts were erratic and rough and Rory met him each time, hips rising to take as much of Chance’s cock as he could.

The sudden widening of Rory’s eyes was all the warning Chance got before his lover cried out and wet heat spread between their bodies. Rory’s channel squeezed painfully tight around Chance’s cock, milking it of spurt after spurt of cum.

Rory was panting as hard as Chance was by the time their orgasms passed. Chance let himself lay on Rory, knowing the bigger man could handle his weight for a while. He sought a gentle kiss from his lover and got it, revelling in the fact that this man loved him and was his. His eyes burned and he clamped his lids down tight until he got his emotions under control. Chance rested his head on Rory’s shoulder and murmured soft words of love in the younger man’s ear, smiling when he realised his lover had fallen asleep.

Rory had opened up and given Chance everything. Despite the trauma of his past, he loved Chance and wanted to be with him. He didn’t know how or why he’d got so lucky as to have a man like Rory by his side, but Chance was going to do everything he could to keep him.

 

 

Rory understood the whole cup running over thing now. Ever since Chance had said those three little words, Rory had felt like he was floating, his head in the clouds and his heart spilling over with love and so much happiness—

He snorted almost as loud as one of the horses. Gushing like that, even to himself, reminded him of one of those happily ever after stories. Still, as farfetched as those tales seemed, Rory believed he and Chance had a good shot at their own happy ending. It wouldn’t always be easy, but it’d be interesting, and more rewarding than anything else ever had been.

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Chance had proven his integrity to Rory more than once, and he’d been nothing but supportive of Rory. If he hadn’t had Chance with him, literally holding his hand, Rory didn’t think he would have been able to make the phone call to Annabelle earlier in the day. Rory had left her several messages, all of which Annabelle claimed she never got. Rory believed her; it would be just like their old man, or Art, to sneak Annabelle’s phone away and delete Rory’s calls and voicemails. He’d been on the verge of heading to Montana if he didn’t get hold of Annabelle when she’d finally answered his call.

Telling his sister the full truth about what had happened between Art and him—

No, Rory cut his thought off right there. It hadn’t been about what happened between them, but rather about what Art had done to him. Rory had tried to keep that information as bare as he could, but Annabelle hadn’t ever been anyone’s fool, and when her questions caused Rory’s throat to tighten and his jaws to clamp down against answering, Chance had murmured comforting words for Rory’s ears only.

Then he had taken the phone from Rory’s stiff fingers, and spoken quietly with Annabelle. Rory hadn’t listened—had, indeed, deliberately blocked out what was said between his lover and his sister. Still, he knew that Chance had answered Annabelle’s questions, and made certain she knew what kind of sick fuck their dad had running the ranch. He’d also managed to talk Annabelle out of killing Art and getting her to agree to act as if she didn’t know about what he’d done to Rory, something Rory himself didn’t think he could have managed to do.

Afterwards, Chance had held Rory for a long time, soothing him until Rory felt the ground under his feet was stable once again. He had the feeling Chance would always carry him when he stumbled, and that meant as much to Rory as the words of love spoken between them the night before.

“Ain’t that a love-struck look you’re wearin’. Musta been some special night to have ya mooning over the stall you’re muckin’.”

Rory bit back a yelp of surprise at Max’s teasing words. He’d been so lost in his own mushy thoughts that he hadn’t even heard the other man approach. Rory’s cheeks heated, but he glanced over and arched a brow at Max.

“Do you really want the details, Max?”

Max startled Rory even more when he shrugged. “Heard plenty ‘hands talkin’ about what they did and with who before. Comes with bein’ a man, I guess.”

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Rory sputtered and turned to face Max, sure his friend was messing with him. He cocked his hip and shook a finger at the smaller man. “You better watch what you joke about, Max, you never know when I might decide to share, and once you hear stuff like that, you can’t exactly unhear it.”

“Yup,” Max agreed. “That’s rightly true, but like I said, been plenty of times I had ta listen to one guy or another talk about what he did with one woman or ‘nother.” He shrugged. “Didn’t bother me with them, won’t bother me if ya do the same.”

Rory was dumbstruck for all of a full minute, then he shook his head and went back to mucking out stalls. That whole conversation was just too bizarre to continue.

It didn’t occur to him until much later that Max might have had an ulterior motive for offering to listen to stories about Rory’s sex life—a motive that might just involve a certain aging twink. Maybe what Max had really wanted was information about the mechanics of what went on between two men.

That was an intriguing yet disturbing idea, but Rory decided he’d do some poking at Max and see if his hunch was right.

 

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Chapter Fifteen

Chance tossed his cell phone from hand to hand as he leant back in the chair at his desk.

Trying to decide on the best way to handle the situation without lying to his lover was proving more difficult than he’d thought. Somehow, he didn’t think Rory would give his blessing for Chance to go to Montana and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of Art.

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