Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance (5 page)

He stepped under the shower, letting the hot water pound away at his sore muscles.

The way the water slicked over his body, glistening and shimmering, made Chance flip RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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through half a dozen images of Rory working in the heat earlier, sweat soaking his skin and tormenting Chance with a need to touch

“Freakin’ ridiculous.” And it was. Every time the younger man had deigned to look at Chance, it had been with distance and nothing else in his gaze. Apparently Chance had obliterated anything the man had felt for him, which just fit in with the perception that Rory was too young. Or too fickle.

Sighing, Chance tipped his head back against the shower wall. Maybe all the lack of interest in the younger man’s gaze meant something else that wasn’t Rory’s fault. Could mean Chance was an asshole who’d been cruel and judgmental and once Rory saw that, his desire to fuck his boss dried up and blew away.

Whatever it was, it also meant there was no one to help with the erection that refused to go away on its own. Groaning, Chance finally gave in to the need for release and fisted his dick. Giving up the battle, he let images of Rory wash over him, gliding over his skin in a heated need that stole Chance’s breath at the same time it sent fear-tipped goose bumps skittering over his body.

He’d never wanted anyone like he wanted Rory, and that want scared him as much as it scorched him. He wasn’t even able to keep the man’s name from bursting from his lips when his orgasm ripped through him. All Chance could do with that realisation was stare stupidly as the water washed his semen down the drain.

Rory managed, just barely, to keep himself in check around Chance for the next two weeks. No teasing glances, tempting the other man with provocative poses, or removing his shirt when the older man was around. Hell, they’d even sat down in the office again and worked out the salary issue, all with Rory on his best behaviour. That wasn’t the only time they’d been in Chance’s office after what Rory thought of as the club revelation—he knew Chance knew it’d been Rory touching him and bringing him off at the club. Rory who had left a mark on the sexy tanned skin.

It was driving Rory crazy, because Chance had been sneaking peeks as often as he thought he could get away with it. Even if he hadn’t caught several of those secretive glances, Rory would have known Chance wanted him—it was evident in the hard erection the man RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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tried to cover any time the two of them were near each other.

Rory snorted. Well, it was obvious the man’s body wanted him, anyway. Even more so now that the results of that second post-revelation office visit were in. That was the visit when Chance had called him and Max in to let them know they’d need to go to town the next day, all three of them, for full physicals. Results had come in the mail today, and Rory had been unsurprised to be clean—he didn’t see how he wouldn’t be..

Despite the fact that Rory was perfectly healthy, he wasn’t very happy. Problem was, Rory had tried being good, and tried being bad, but nothing was working. It didn’t matter one bit if Chance’s prick was hard if the man wouldn’t let go of his prejudices.

Obviously, the boss wasn’t going to, which made Rory wonder what the hell was wrong with him? Yeah, he’d worked beside the man many times now and had come to admire his work ethic and intelligence. But it didn’t matter. The man didn’t want him. No, that wasn’t true—Chance didn’t want to want him.

Rory had a flashback to the club, of Chance trying to back away from two determined PYTs who’d had no regard for anything but their own desires. Was that what he was doing?

Chance had made his position more than clear and he hadn’t given in to his body’s demands, probably never would. Was that why he wanted the older man so much, because he was a challenge?

But Rory had wanted Chance as soon as he’d spotted him in the club, before h knew anything about Chance’s likes or dislikes.

“Fuck this.” Rory brushed his hair, still damp from the shower, and grabbed his hat.

He’d had enough of chasing his own thoughts in circles, and enough of feeling not good enough for anyone. He had lost his family, and the one man he was interested in was not reciprocating, and damn it, Rory was tired of feeling unloved and unwanted. The loneliness was a constant ache he kept buried under a façade of nonchalance, and that façade was wearing exceptionally thin tonight.

“Going out, Max, I’ll probably be in really late.” Or really early, depending on the point of view. He nodded at Max, who just stared at him, looking for all the world like he expected Rory to stop and ask what he wanted. Not happening. Frustration and anger and just plain need were tearing through Rory with steel talons and he could not deal with it any more.

Rory closed the door firmly behind him and sprinted from the porch to his truck, never mind if he looked like a fool. The only thing that mattered was getting the fuck away from RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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Chance Galloway, and just maybe, he could find someone who did want him, and the loneliness would quit tearing at him at least for the night.

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He could do this
. Working with Rory these past couple of weeks had been an eye-opening experience for Chance. The younger man worked hard and knew what he was doing. He wasn’t too proud to do any task, didn’t think he was too good to follow orders—

although he didn’t hesitate to speak up if he had a suggestion on how something could be done more efficiently. And damned if his suggestions weren’t dead-on.

The man had shown more restraint than Chance, more than he had thought Rory capable of, and a level of maturity that was impressive as hell. Chance took a minute to make sure his hair was brushed into place, checking his reflection for the hundredth time and trying to ignore the fine trembling of his fingers.

God, he was as nervous as a virgin, which was just stupid. He was far enough from a virgin, thanks to his horny youth, that if he had as many pricks sticking out of him as he’d had poking in him, he might come close to resembling a damn porcupine.

And wasn’t that part of his problem? Just because he’d been something on the easy side when he was younger, he thought everyone else was, too. Chance knew it was wrong to think like that, and he’d been working to try to rectify it, much as he’d worked to change his easy ways years ago.

The sound of an engine starting up and roaring down the drive penetrated Chance’s ruminations. Who would be leaving and where would they be going? Max didn’t have any family that Chance knew of, and Rory’s family had disowned him, besides which they were over a thousand miles away.

Rory… A sinking feeling in the pit of Chance’s gut had him rushing out of his house and banging on the bunkhouse door. He’d looked around quick enough to know Rory’s truck was gone, and that fact had anger battling with fear and shame. Max pulled the door open, a knowing look in his eyes when he saw Chance standing there.

Chance started to speak then realised he didn’t quite know how to ask what he wanted to know. It wasn’t like Rory didn’t have the right to enjoy his evening off, and it for damn sure wasn’t like Chance had the right to out anyone other than himself to Max.

“He left, said he’d be in late.”

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The sinking feeling in Chance’s gut turned into a ton of lead. Too late, he’d waited too long. He couldn’t even be mad at Rory for giving up—God knew Chance would have just stopped after the first rejection and—Christ. Hadn’t the younger man had a gullet full of rejection lately?

Max leant on the door frame and tipped his head. “Seems to me ya’d pretty much be a fool to leave him be, if you’ll excuse me for sayin’ so. But maybe someone oughta tell ya—

and you’re gonna catch flies.”

Chance snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, narrowing his eyes at the wiry man before him.

“What are you talking about, Max?” Chance kept his voice low and flat.

Max just rolled his eyes and snorted. “Jesus, boss, it’d take a dead man not to feel what’s bouncing back and forth betwixt the two of ya. I ain’t one of those…I don’t care who does…damn it!” Max’s cheeks were burning red, but Chance thought he got the picture.

“Just, go before ya both do something that can’t be taken back already.” Max reached out and nudged Chance, and that was all it took. He didn’t want it to be too late, and he wouldn’t let either of them screw this up any further.

Rory sat at the bar nursing his beer as he glared at the young man sitting beside him.

Petite, curly black hair with large aqua eyes that sparkled and full lips that would look beautiful stretched around his cock. The man was as close to perfect as anyone Rory had ever seen—and he did absolutely nothing for Rory. Not even the image of those red lips opening wide could get so much as a twitch from his cock, damn it. None of the men who’d come by trolling had interested Rory no matter how much he wished it otherwise.

It just pissed him off in every direction.

“Not interested, Jesse. Go away.” The growl in his voice only seemed to pique the delicate man’s interest. He reached out and stroked a fine-boned hand up Rory’s thigh, only stopping when Rory slapped at the offending appendage to knock it away.

“Oh, come on now, I bet I could make you interested real fast. You’ll feel a lot better once you’ve… Hey, my name is Justin, not Jesse.” A frown marred the smooth perfection of Justin/Jesse’s brow. “You won’t forget it after tonight.”

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Rory just stared at the other man. Was this how he’d made Chance feel before he’d backed off? No wonder he’d pushed Rory away—this was damned annoying. He almost fell off his barstool when a delicate hand brushed over his cock and grasped firmly.

“Hey, you’re not even hard. Are you sure you’re gay?” Justin looked genuinely confused.

Rory reached down and pried the hand from his groin, not caring if he hurt the man at this point. He’d had enough of being groped. Aqua eyes grew big as dinner plates as Justin tried to free his hand. Guess he’d squeezed too hard, but maybe that would teach the man to keep his hands to himself.

A strong hand grasped Rory’s chin, pulling his head up and around, startling a gasp out of him. He had just enough time to hear a rumbling, “Damn right he is,” before his mouth met Chance’s with a bruising force of teeth and tongue.

Now
that
had his dick trying to burst through the seam of his jeans. The hand that reached down to rub Rory wasn’t soft or fine boned. Nothing about the man eating away at his mouth was soft. Rory groaned as his dick was rubbed harder and his lower lip sucked and nipped.

“Fuck. Oh my God, you two are so fucking hot!” Justin’s voice sounded way too close, and when Chance finally lifted his lips from Rory’s, it was to glare at the dark-haired man.

Justin had got off his bar stool and sidled up against Rory’s knee—where he was even now grinding his prick. A vision of his old dog Skit trying to hump visitors’ legs flitted through Rory’s mind just about the time that Chance grabbed a handful of Justin’s shirt and pulled him around to where the cowboy was standing. Rory watched the older man lean down and whisper something in the delicate man’s ear.

Whatever it was, it lit a fire under Justin’s ass. He cast a wary look at Chance and Rory before turning away and disappearing onto the crowded dance floor. Rory turned back to Chance, wanting to ask what exactly he’d told Justin but he didn’t get a word out before he was being kissed again, Chance’s tongue fucking deep into his mouth and drawing a groan from Rory that he felt in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, but the man could kiss. Chance lifted his lips and stood staring down at Rory.

The desire burning in his searing brown eyes sent a spike of heat straight to Rory’s balls then quickly shot up his cock, seeping out in a spurt of wet heat. The scent of pre cum hit Rory—damn, but he needed. He closed his eyes, trying to get his unruly cock under control.

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A sharp inhalation and a hand gripping his biceps had his eyes flickering back open.

Chance was staring at the growing wet spot and his breath was coming in jerky spasms, which Rory’s lungs strived to emulate. With a quick move, Chance plopped Rory’s hat on his head—he hadn’t even realised it had fallen off.

“S’go,” Chance growled, then he was holding tight to Rory’s hand and leading him to the exit of the bar. Rory followed along willingly, but a little niggling part of him was scared to death. He’d never felt like this for anyone, never felt like he had to have them or die. It was extreme, overpowering, and completely irresistible.

He had questions—yes, sir, he did—but there was no way he’d ask and risk bringing this to a screeching halt. Maybe, after he’d come two or four times, he would be able to think clearly enough to string a sentence or two together. Or maybe he’d have Chance out of his system and the questions wouldn’t matter anymore.

Rory barely had time to pull the door shut before Chance was tugging him out to the parking lot—right past Rory’s truck.

“What…”

Chance gave a sharp shake of his head. “Get to mine first.” Rory glanced around the parking lot, searched it twice before he spotted the older man’s truck parked in a dark corner.

Yeah, his boss was a pretty damn smart man, already pressing the button to unlock the doors to the dark blue Dodge. Rory reached for the passenger door handle only to have Chance nudge his hand away. Chance opened the door as Rory looked at him, admiring the fierce look on the man’s handsome face. Then Rory hissed as Chance placed a hand to his chest and pushed. Rory tumbled backwards onto the seat, landing hard enough that the air rushed from his lungs. Or maybe that had to do with the long callused fingers that had already got his pants open and were even now pulling his cock from his boxers.