Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance (7 page)

Once inside, he fought back the need to slam Rory against the door and fuck him until they were both brainless. After the look he’d seen on Rory’s face, Chance felt an even stronger need to take it slow and show the man just how much he was wanted.

He did something he’d never done before with another man—slid his arm from Rory’s waist and twined their fingers together. It was an intimacy that Chance had always avoided, even though it was such a simplistic and innocent one. He could fuck, he could suck and do any number of sexual acts in between—but they were all sexual acts, not this melding of palms and fingers that could bring comfort and peace to both people. It implied something other than sex, which had always terrified Chance but now, with this one man, seemed so necessary and right.

But that didn’t mean there was anything more than sex between them
.

Chance led Rory to his bedroom, watching as the other man took in the colours of the room, deep greens and ripe burgundy, before settling on the king size bed covered in a multitude of pillows. The little smile that quirked up the corner of Rory’s lips had Chance’s heart beating a little faster than it should have been.

“Like your pillows, huh?” Rory faced Chance, and stole his breath with his beauty. Pale blond curls clung to his forehead and temples, held against sweat-dampened skin. Large, heavy-lidded blue-black eyes framed with thick lashes watched as Chance visually scraped over Rory’s features, caressing the straight narrow nose, following it to the dip above a full, RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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wide mouth set above a firm and stubborn chin. Chance could not find a single flaw in the man’s appearance, and the resounding jolt of insecurity he felt rush through him pissed him off.

He had nothing to be insecure about. While there was no way he could match Rory’s beauty or youth, he could damn sure match him, if not teach him a thing or two, about fucking.

“Take your clothes off.” Chance reached for his own shirt, watching as Rory followed suit. Then he remembered the younger man had his nipples pierced, and suddenly Chance was impatient and getting naked became a lot more important than things like finesse or proving any point.

He jerked his shirt off half-buttoned and reached for his belt, unbuckling it only before working on his pants. Boots, damn, he’d forgotten about his boots. Chance felt his cheeks flare hot but let it go when he realised Rory was in the same predicament.

They both sat on the bed to pull off their boots and the rest of their clothes, Chance struggling not to stare at the silver hoops on Rory’s chest. It was an equally difficult battle not to lean back and look at the tattoo he’d only got a hint of weeks ago. Kicking off the last of his clothes, Chance cursed loudly, startling Rory.

“What? What’s wrong?” Rory had that wary look in his eyes again, the one that made Chance want to kick his own ass.

“Stand up and turn around, Rory. Please. I just want to see…” Rory’s dark eyes suddenly gleamed. He stood and stepped close enough that Chance felt the heat rolling off his body, could smell the scent of the white drops beading the spongy head of his cock.

Chance started to reach for that luscious cock only to have Rory spin around and give him his back.

Or, more precisely, his ass. Chance let his hand continue on its path and filled it with taut, sleek cheek. Firm and perfectly rounded, Rory’s ass had Chance forgetting why he’d even asked the man to turn around. He kneaded the pale skin in his palm, then slid his hand over to the crease, letting his fingers brush over Rory’s tight opening.

Rory shivered and twisted his torso to watch Chance, the movement causing a ripple in the tattoo on his back. Chance shot Rory a grin, meeting his questioning gaze.

“Sorry. Wanted to see your tattoo but I got distracted.” Chance kept his hand on the firm flesh as he looked at Rory’s tattoo. Rory faced away, keeping his body straight for the RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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inspection.

“It’s beautiful,” Chance murmured, bringing his other hand up to trace the shapes of a horse and rider, who looked to be in the midst of dismounting to attend to a calf. The tattoo took up the majority of Rory’s back, and was intricately detailed from the colours of grass to those of the sun and sky. It looked like a painting, a piece of art rather than a tattoo, and Chance wondered what it would feel like to walk around wearing such a thing of beauty.

He’d never really been into tattoos before—or, rather, it hadn’t mattered to him one way or another. But, like just about everything else, Rory was quickly making him rethink his ambivalence on the whole subject.

“Jesus, Rory, I’ve never seen anything like it, or like you—” The words slipped out before he could catch them. Chance tried to think of a way to cover up the words or to hide them away, but Rory was already shaking his head and turning around.

“There’s nothing special about me, Chance. I’m just a man…with an excellent tattoo.”

Rory tried to make it a joke, but Chance could see the doubt in those wounded eyes. He stood up and forced himself to keep his gaze locked there in those blue depths rather than letting it wander to the glinting silver rings he wanted to tug on.

“You’re wrong, Rory. I don’t expect you to believe me, not yet, but it’s true. I haven’t been with anyone in a long, long time until you grabbed me at the club. Would have ran out of there if I could have, but you caught me, and then I didn’t want to run.”

Chance was afraid of revealing too much, setting himself up for a hurt he might not recover from. He couldn’t stand there and let Rory think he was anything less than extraordinary, though. He just couldn’t, and damned if he knew why. Rory opened his mouth to say something, maybe argue, but Chance was done talking. He was only digging himself a deeper hole and it was time to stop.

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Rory opened his mouth up to point out that Chance was probably just taken by surprise at the club, or maybe to ask just how long a long, long time was. He didn’t even get a word out before the man jumped up off the bed then his mouth was full of Chance—his tongue, lips and teeth, the taste of the man so seductive and sweet that Rory didn’t think he would ever get enough.

He nipped at Chance’s lip, bowing his back when the other man nipped back harder.

The pain from the bite shot straight to Rory’s cock. He had to thrust, rubbing his achingly hard dick against Chance’s straining length. He’d felt it, stroked it, and dreamt of it, but what he really wanted was to see it and taste it before he felt it again—deep inside him, rather than in his hand. Rory was sure he’d never see a cock like that again, not up close and personal, and he’d never seen one near to that size before—though, granted, his sexual experience was rather limited.

“Please. Fuck me, Chance.” Rory murmured the words into Chance’s mouth, felt a tremor work through the other man as he swallowed the request. Chance stepped back and turned to the nightstand, pulling open a drawer and rifling through until he grunted and took out a tube of lube, which he tossed on the bed, and…a paper? He faced Rory and thrust the paper at him. Rory took it, watching the other man and trying not to stare down at the erection he wanted so badly.

“It’s current. I just got it when you got yours, so we can… I mean, if you want… Damn it!” Chance stared at a spot over Rory’s left shoulder and looked so uncomfortable that Rory wanted to hug him. Instead, he read the paper that informed him Chance was healthy and clean. He jerked his eyes up to the other man’s, grinning like a fool.

“Oh yeah, I want.” Rory handed the paper back and finally looked at Chance’s straining erection as he stood frozen, eyes on Rory. “I want that—” Rory pointed, then unable to resist any longer, reached out to fist the tempting rod. Chance groaned as Rory slid his hand from the bulbous head all the way to the root. Rory’s hands were big, yet he barely managed to close his hand over Chance’s girth. Then he got a little worried and glanced up to look at Chance.

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“Will…uh, are you sure this will fit?” Rory would rather risk an embarrassing question than an embarrassing situation. Truthfully, he hadn’t screwed around enough to know how much was too much, but he suspected the monster in front of him might just push the limit.

Chance sat the paper back on the nightstand and gave Rory a flat-handed push onto the bed.

Rory landed on his behind but leant back on his elbows, eyes drawn back to the mesmerising, scary erection bobbing in front of him.

“You’ll be ready, baby. Get in the middle of the bed.” Chance stroked himself while Rory watched enviously. He sat up and slapped Chance’s hand away.

“I’ve been waiting to get my hands, and other parts, on that for a while now. I have dibs.” Rory flopped back onto the bed as Chance burst out laughing.

“You have dibs?
Dibs
?” Chance started laughing harder, but he left his cock alone as he crawled onto the bed. “All right, it’s all yours, what with you laying first claim and all.”

The teasing smile on Chance’s full lips was too much to resist. Rory leaned up and licked until the other man opened for him, sucking on Rory’s tongue like he’d sucked another part of Rory earlier.

He groaned and pulled Chance down on top of him, needing skin-to-skin contact. The man felt too right laying on top, pressing against Rory’s body. Chance ran his hands down Rory’s arms, clasping his wrists tightly and bringing Rory’s hands up to the slatted headboard.

“Hold on like your life depended on it, baby.” Rory’s fingers reflexively clutched at the slats before he realised it.

“Wait. I want to touch you—” Chance shook his head.

“I’m too close, want you too much and waited too long. After, okay? Because if you touch me now, I’m gonna come and I want in you before that happens.” Chance stared at him, suddenly so serious that Rory felt a moment of fear. Not for his safety, but at whatever words were fixing to be spoken. Chance shook his head.

“None of that. There isn’t anything wrong. Just…I figured maybe you should know I’ve never had sex without a condom before.” A flush swept over Chance’s cheeks. “Probably won’t last long, not with how bad I want you and not wearing… Damn it!”

Rory would have replied and told Chance this was a first for him, too, but the man was fast. His lips latched on to Rory’s right nipple ring and tugged while he used his hand to do the same to the other nipple, and Rory went wild.

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He hadn’t had a lover since he’d got them and hadn’t had any idea how much better it would feel for someone other than himself to toy with the hoops. Rory white-knuckled the headboard and tried not to buck too hard and dislodge Chance. He couldn’t keep still no matter how hard he tried—his body was squirming and rubbing, trying to get more of the sensual torment Chance was dishing out.

“Shit! Please, Ch…Chance, please!” Rory didn’t even know what he was begging for—

he didn’t want the man to stop what he was doing, but he needed more. Chance’s words were true for him as well—he’d wanted Chance so badly for so long, he couldn’t take much more. Jesus, the need was so bad he could feel tears of frustration pricking at his eyes. Rory squeezed them shut. He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t fear he’d do something stupid, something that would make Chance think of him as being too young again.

Chance slid down his body, tonguing his way through the near-white hair that ran down the centre of Rory’s belly. Closing his eyes seemed to magnify each touch, each lick against his skin to the point that Rory was afraid he would come and embarrass himself. He started to let go of the slats and reach for his balls. Chance’s growl of displeasure vibrated up Rory’s body and had him reaching for the headboard once again.

“Don’t want to come yet, not yet.” Rory tossed his head, trying to fight the need building inside him as Chance’s chuckle sent sparks straight to the kill zone. Oh, God, he was going to make a fool of himself!

“Don’t. Don’t fight it. You don’t know how fucking sexy you are, burning under my touch. You don’t know what it does to me to see you, feel you so responsive. You’re fucking beautiful, baby, don’t ever think different.”

Rory couldn’t speak to argue, couldn’t do anything except scream out his release as Chance reached under him and grabbed his ass cheeks then engulfed his weeping crown, sucking hard. Rory’s toes curled as he pumped streams of hot spunk into Chance’s mouth, the pulsing in his cock with each spurt so strong that Rory could feel his hole clenching in synch. Chance suckled Rory’s dick until every bit of cum was cleaned up then lifted his head and looked at Rory.

“I told you, so fucking beautiful and responsive. My God, Rory, you really don’t have any idea how special you are.” The words sounded torn from Chance, released against his will. Rory opened his eyes and looked down at the man. Chance did not look happy with his admission.

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That was okay, because Rory didn’t believe it anyway. How could he, when so many other people had proven the man’s words wrong? The unease in Chance’s eyes turned to something else as he snarled at Rory, obviously reading the denial he was about to utter.

Rory bit down on his tongue to keep from refuting Chance’s claims—the last thing he wanted to do was argue right now.

“I’ll get it through your stubborn head eventually, Rory. I will.” Those dark chocolate eyes held Rory pinned in place, promising to follow through on the words.

Well, the man could try, wasn’t anything Rory could do to stop him—

A hard swat on his hip snapped Rory right to attention. He let go of the headboard and started to rise up but Chance shoved him and had Rory flipped over onto his stomach before he even knew how it happened.

Strong hands reached around his hips, pulling Rory up onto his knees. Heart thudding bruisingly hard in his chest, Rory spread his thighs wide and braced himself on his forearms, resting his head on his hands. He turned his head to watch what he could as he felt his cheeks being spread wide open. When the tips of Chance’s thumbs pressed against Rory’s hole, pushing until they loosened the tight ring and penetrated him, Rory let out a strangled groan. He was going to die from the pleasure any moment now. There was no way something could feel so damn good without stopping his heart. It just wasn’t possible.