IT WASN’T like JW’s best friend, Rory, not to answer his phone.
Even if the man had a new flame, which JW had to admit Rory had a lot of, he would answer JW’s calls. They did beer nearly every Saturday night, no matter what Rory was dating. JW didn’t have a lot of faith in Rory’s choices when it came to boyfriends.
JW had been trying to get Rory on the line since about eight in the morning, with no luck. He’d been on a three-day run, so he wanted Rory to know he was going to be back in town for that beer.
Now it was three in the afternoon, and JW hadn’t been able to catch up with his best buddy from high school, so he was using his spare key to let himself into Rory’s place to snoop around. The man’s truck was in the drive, after all, but the dogs were in the back, having a fucking fit. Rory loved those idiot beasts with a fiery passion. He wouldn’t ignore them, wouldn’t leave them out there to starve or nothin’.
Damn, he hoped nothing awful had happened to the man. That would be a waste of mammoth proportions.
“Rory? You here, man?”
He thought he heard something from the back of the house, a grunt, a rattle. Shit. Had one of the dogs gotten stuck back in the bedrooms? JW started checking doors.
He got all the way to the bedrooms down the main hall, when he tried Rory’s bedroom door. Locked.
What the hell? Rory would never lock the dogs out in the yard and lock himself in all day, even if he was sick or something. There had to be a problem.
He rattled the doorknob again, then heard an answering sound on the other side of the door.
“Rory?” He knocked this time, really announcing he was there in a formal way.
Okay, that was a muffled cry for help. He knew it. It was a desperate sound.
He looked at the door. It would be a matter of minutes to pick the lock. Took him two seconds to kick the soft spot next to the latch. What he saw when the door popped open, though, made him stop and stare.
Rory—wide-eyed and panicky—was cuffed to the bed, a big red gag in his mouth, one hell of a bruise on his jaw.
JW almost turned and left. The urge was that strong. What the hell was the guy thinking? Was this some kind of damned joke? Instead he went and pulled the gag out of Rory’s mouth. “Where are the keys?”
“I hope they’re on the bedside table, but my wallet sure as shit isn’t.” Rory’s voice was blown.
Christ. JW bit back everything he wanted to shout at the man and went to look for the keys. Screaming right now wouldn’t do any good. “How long you been like this?”
“Too long.” Rory wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t raise that dark head.
“Tell me, Ro.” Oh, no. This was not gonna go down like Rory wouldn’t talk to him. He deserved better than that.
“Before dark yesterday.” Those poor cheeks were bright red, Rory about to lose his shit. It was easy to see. “Tell me the fucking key’s there.”
“No.” JW sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “Let me look in the front room.”
Rory had to be hurting and needing a bathroom and a drink of water. JW had bolt cutters in his truck if he couldn’t find the keys, so he would just make one trip.
When he went into the front room, he noticed that the TV was gone, the DVD player, Rory’s crappy old computer, even the man’s change jar. Fuck a duck. Everything of any kind of value was gone, and he wondered how he’d missed it the first time around.
He couldn’t find a key either. He ran out to his truck to get the bolt cutters, not wanting Rory to think he’d been abandoned again.
Fuck-a-doodle-do. He. This. Jesus.
JW shook it off and trotted back inside. “No keys, buddy. Hold still so I can cut the chain.”
“Okay.” Rory still wouldn’t look at him, but the man stayed stock-still, waiting on him to clip the chains on the cuffs. He had no idea how Rory was going to get the actual cuffs off.
Maybe a locksmith or a cop. Did they know any of those? He could call Jody Freeman, maybe. He’d been a deputy once. Surely guys like that still had keys to the cuffs.
“There. Hit the head, huh? I’ll find your sweats.”
“’Kay.” Rory stumbled off, bent over a little, hurrying.
Jesus Christ.
JW would offer to help, but he was afraid he’d do more harm than good. Man had to be sore.
He opened a top drawer—found lube, a plug, whoa. Some things should be private, right? He slammed that one shut, opened the bottom one. Bingo. Sweats. He pulled out a pair and sniffed, to be sure no one had done anything nasty to Rory’s clothes. It sounded ridiculous, but he hoped this was simply a robbery and not something more stalkery. Peeing on stuff took it to a whole other level.
They were clean, so he took them to the bathroom door, knocked, and Rory’s still-cuffed hand appeared.
“You need anything? I can rustle up some eggs while you shower.” His jaw hurt from not screaming. He wanted to shout until his ears rang.
“I….” Those green eyes flashed up to him, then away, so ashamed. “I’m sorry, man.”
“We’ll talk about that later. Do you need me to call the bank?” They were in a small enough town that he could call his cousin Katy and explain how someone had stolen Rory’s wallet.
“Please. No cops, though. I can’t explain to nobody.”
“Okay. Get a bath. I’ll make food and call Katy.” He turned away before he did something stupid. He was always wanting to do things for Rory that he had no right to do, including beat down the assholes who wanted to do Rory dirty.
Shit, they’d…. Well, they hadn’t been lovers, had they? They’d been friends with hand jobs until Rory’d got all… weird and queery and shit on him, and he’d been cocksure and stupid, and he’d fucked that up. JW regretted that outburst every day.
Rory had gone through a series of men after that, each one worse than the last. JW wanted to hit most of them. Hard. With a shovel. Not just for being assholes, but for having what he wanted more than breath. Of course, this was a whole new level of worse. This was… criminal. Which was why he hoped it had been a random pickup. With condom.
Maybe three condoms.
All at once.
He called Katy, who snickered a little, as she thought Rory was a slut, but she promised to put a block on all the accounts and make sure no one stole Rory’s life. He told her to keep it all damned quiet too, because he would know who spread rumors if it happened. Katy was more scared of her momma than anything on earth, and JW had a damned good relationship with Earline. He’d been working on her truck since the beginning of time.
Rory came out of the bathroom finally, fully dressed, head down. “You want a beer, man?”
“Not right now.” He shook his head. “We need to get those cuffs off, huh?”
“Yeah. I got the tile saw.”
“Tile saw?” Christ. That would be messy. “Let me see what I got in my truck.” There might be something better. He’d only just grabbed the wire nippers before. Now he had time to investigate.
“’Kay.” Rory rubbed the back of his head, the cropped hair making a weird sound on that callused hand.
“Eggs are on the stove.” He’d managed to start food cooking in between everything else. They both liked their scrambled eggs burned, so they needed a good while longer. JW went out to the truck and rooted around. He was getting pretty damned frustrated when he saw something shiny on the street between the curb and the road. Hot damn. That looked a lot like keys. House keys and little cuff keys….
He grabbed those and what was left of Rory’s wallet—yay—and headed in.
“No tile saw required, man.”
“No? You find something?”
“The keys. Your wallet too. ID is still in it.” Among all the other memberships and shit. The only thing missing was Rory’s debit card. Thankfully, the man kept his Social Security Card in the lockbox under the bed.
“Thank God.” Rory held out his hands for them.
JW took Rory’s hands in his, cursing under his breath at the raw, bruised flesh at the wrists. “I got it.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that, man, but I’m damn glad you came over.”
“Me too. Wanted that beer.” He headed back to the eggs, which smoked gently.
Rory poured two glasses of milk, and if the man’s hands shook, JW didn’t say nothin’. He just got the food served up and handed over a plate.
“Thanks.” Rory sat at the little kitchen table, grabbed them each a fork out of the can of silverware.
“No problem.” JW waited until they both worked through the food. Until he couldn’t wait. Then he put his hands on the table, watching them clench. “What the hell were you doing, Rory?”
Rory’s head drooped down, chin damn near on his chest. “Making a mistake.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, who was this guy?” He needed to know. They might not be calling the police, but damn it all, JW would fix this somehow.
Rory sighed. “We’d been going out a while. Name’s Jerrod. Apparently he’s a fuck.”
“And not a good one.” He blinked, amazed that he could joke about Rory fucking anyone that wasn’t him.
Rory laughed, the sound harsh, hard. Bitter.
“Come on, buddy. Talk to me.”
Green eyes met his, sort of horrified. “I didn’t know he was a fucker, man. We were having… you know… and he fucking went alligator on me, left me there.”
He…. Rage built up a little. If Rory needed that kind of shit, he only had to ask. He never did ask, though. Not after that one time.
“I’m sorry you had to see it, man. I know that ain’t your thing.”
“How do you know what my thing is? You gave up years ago.” It was all building in his chest, about to blow. He wanted to tell Rory exactly what his thing was.
Those eyes met his again, bright as all fuck. “Shit, all I know is I ain’t your thing. The rest don’t matter.”
“Oh, fuck that, Rory. I swear, you’re gonna make me pay for that stupid shit for the rest of my life.” He was gonna blow a gasket. How long could a man hold a grudge?
“Don’t you fucking snarl at me, man. I ain’t held shit against you, have I? No. I got your fucking back, one hundred percent forever. I have a fucking beer with you every week, take up for you when your Aunt Earline starts in about the babies.” Rory’s hand slammed on the table.
“I got your back too, you know that. I just….” He got up and tossed his plate in the sink, the sound of it shattering making him wince a little. He wanted Rory for himself and didn’t know how to take back what he’d said.
“Look. It’s cool. I’m cool. You’re cool. Let me hit the head, and we’ll go have our beer. We ain’t never gotta talk about this shit again.”
“Why not?” He turned around, bumping chests with Rory when the man tried to squeeze past him. “You want that kind of shit, all you have to do is ask me.”
Those big eyes went bigger, like fucking saucers, and for the tiniest second, JW saw pure fucking need, something that made his cock leap. Then Rory shoved him, hard, teeth baring. “Fuck off, asshole.”
“Make me. Damn it, Rory, you don’t have to go out there and be unsafe and shit.” It was like he couldn’t keep the words in. He had to say it; it had all been inside him too damned long.
“What the fuck do you know about it? Jesus fuck, go find yourself a woman and make some fucking babies and don’t worry about what I’m hunting.” Rory backed off, growling in his chest. “You ain’t queer, remember? A hand job between friends, fine, but you don’t want no one to get ideas about you being a fag. That’s what I am, not you.”
Damn, Rory had a fine fucking memory. Word for word.
Sometimes he hated that. “You want someone to beat you, man, I’m up for it right now.” His hands clenched so hard his knuckles hurt. He wanted that fight. Craved it.
Rory flipped him off, then clocked him in the breadbasket, that fist quick as a snake.
He grunted, his body trying to double over. Years of bar fights and crunches kept him upright, and he struck openhanded, pushing Rory’s shoulder. That spun Rory right around, that tight, hard little ass right there.
Without even letting himself think on it, JW slapped it too. Hard.
“What the fuck?” Rory tried to turn around, but JW didn’t think so. Not yet.
He had too many years of pent-up need, of the damned jealousy that gnawed at him. Of fucking missing out. Of watching every fucking willing man touching what was his for years.
He’d fucked up—once, bad—and had had to watch this hardbody get fucked and turned inside out by a dozen pricks who weren’t as good as him. They didn’t deserve him. Not like JW did. They couldn’t make Rory scream like he could. He’d learned a lot driving trucks all over the country.
It was his turn now. All his. He smacked again, his other hand on Rory’s shoulder to keep the man in place when Rory squirmed.
“Let me go, asshole.” Rory didn’t move away, though, and the man’s voice was way more husky than pissed off. Someone was all over this, and it wasn’t JW.
“No. No, that’s all done with, you running from me.” He did it again, because it felt good, his hand hitting so hard it bounced.
“You’ve lost your damn mind.”
Jesus, look at Rory move. It was like dancing, but so much better. If Rory didn’t have any sweats, it would be better. That skin would look so fine when he smacked at it. JW grinned a little for the first time since he’d called and no one answered. Then he ripped Rory’s sweats down, his hand slapping skin.
“Dub!” Rory groaned this time, took a step away.
“What? It feels good.” Or at least it did to him. His fingers curled around Rory’s hip. Look at that ass. He let his thumb rub the heavy muscle, and then he hit again, the skin going pink.
His handprint looked unbelievably erotic. His cock started to ache, like it had back in the day when they would sneak off with a bottle and a box of Kleenex.
“This is fucking insane….”
No. No, for once they were doing something fucking right. “This is good, Rory. Go with it.” He’d prove himself this time. He so would.
He pushed at Rory’s shoulder, got the man bent over the table, one hand on the small of Rory’s back. Those hard thighs spread, Rory’s balls hanging. Fucking hot. This was what Rory’d been wanting, probably what he’d been getting, from someone else. This was what Rory needed, what Rory was so ashamed of he couldn’t ask for it.
Now he was going to get it from JW. He smacked a few more times, a little harder.
A low moan sounded, and then Rory’s butt shifted, pushed into a slap. Jesus. The man was moving, just loving what he was doing. Thing was, JW was liking it too, his hand throbbing.
JW’s mouth was dry, his eyes fucking burning in his skull, not wanting to miss a second.
His hand was on fire, his cock was pressing on his zipper, and he could feel sweat trickle down his back. Fuck. He leaned down, tongue sliding over Rory’s skin. It was surprisingly hot on his lips. Hot with a tinge of salt.
Oh God. He closed his eyes, sliding to his knees. He breathed in Rory’s scent, happy as he’d been in a long time.
“Dub?”
Rory’s scent was fucking everywhere. “Mmm-hmm. You smell good.” He rubbed his cheek on Rory’s ass. Just like he was a cat or something. Rory was arching, his toes curling.
“Oh God. I’m fucking hallucinating.”
“You hallucinate about me and your ass?” That skin was red, little fingerprints standing out all over, fading together to make an amazing pattern.
“What I dream about ain’t none of your business.”
“No? I think it’s all about my business. I told you I got your back.” JW bit into the flesh of one asscheek, punishing a bit.
Okay, so hearing that husky moaning sound rocked his world, almost as much as feeling Rory buck against him. Fucking A. Groaning, he licked where he’d bitten, needing to taste again. He was panting, his heart pounding.
“Fuck….” Rory spread a little wider, nails sounding on the table as the man scrabbled for purchase.
“Anytime.” He meant it too. Rory was a kinky little guy, right? Those hips canted for him, a clear offer. Jesus. Yes. JW loved to fuck, loved to slide deep into hot ass and push until he came.
He traced that hot crease with his finger, licking his lips as he watched. Rory was shaking for him. Oh fuck. Hot. That tight little hole clenched, damn near like it was kissing his finger.
He pushed, because he couldn’t not. He wasn’t going much farther without slick, but damn. He had to feel, had to know. Tight. Perfect. Oh fuck yes. Rory took him in, sweet as pie.
“Ro, I need something. Condoms. Lube.” It was amazing he could still talk, his voice raw and hoarse and almost gone….
“Bedroom.” That one word was like a damn key in a lock, like this was it, somehow. Time to make shit right.
JW sprang to his feet and grabbed Rory, hauled the little bastard to the bedroom, just like that. He flung Rory on the bed and started digging in the matching nightstands. He took a second to stare. Damn. Just like in the one dresser drawer, there were plugs. Cock rings. A fucking paddle.
His whole body went ping, but he ignored all that this time. All he needed was that little tube and one foil packet.
“We don’t have to do this.” Rory was hard as a rock, leaking, needing him. Those green eyes watched him, shadowed with doubt, hot with desire.
“Yes, we do.” He tossed the condom and lube on the bed and started stripping off clothes.
“Oh fuck.” Rory’s eyes were burning, looking hard, one hand working that fat prick.
“Don’t you go off without me.” He snapped it out, and Rory jumped, letting go of his cock. Oh Jesus. That was…. To know that Rory would take his orders like that made him moan, his balls pulling. “Get the lube, man. Start getting ready for me.”
Rory nodded, belly flushing a dark red. So fucking hot. And his, damn it.
His.
Rory grabbed the lube, slicked up those callused fingers, and then pressed two in that tight little ring of muscle. JW watched, hands on his shorts while he forgot his own name.
“Take them off, Dub. I want to see.” Rory was rippling, dancing on those fingers, body moving in slow, sensual rolls.
“You do, huh?” He grinned a little, thinking how long it had been, how they used to do their thing in the dark when they were drunk. Then he pushed his shorts down, his cock springing up to slap his belly. He hoped to hell Rory liked what he saw.
Rory groaned, tongue flicking out like the man was hungry. Fuck. Fuck yeah.
Needy little fuck. JW was gonna turn him inside out. Then he was going to put Rory back together so he could do it again. He grabbed the condom, slipped it on while Rory worked that little hole. He pushed between Rory’s thighs, spread the muscled legs wide. He wanted Rory to watch, to know who was fucking that little hole.
He wanted the man to know who would be the only one to do it from now on.
“Dub. Need.”
He swatted one asscheek again, let his hand stay wrapped around it. He wanted the burn. That skin fascinated him, and JW couldn’t understand how anyone could mistreat this man. Not like that asshole had.
He leaned down, met Rory’s eyes, so close he could see every speck. “Gonna make it good, Ro.”
Rory’s eyes went a little dark, and then that hungry mouth slammed against his, kissing him but good. Kissing him. Shit. He didn’t kiss. Rory tasted like salt and need, and JW went with it, feeling clumsy as hell. He wanted to make the man happy, right? He only had to think for about ten seconds, though, before his body took over, and one hand slid behind Ro’s head, tilted so he could have more.
He pushed Rory’s tongue out of his mouth, taking control of the kiss, making it his. He had to take control, let Rory know it was okay. He felt Rory’s moan more than heard it, all around his tongue, against his lips.
He held on, his cock pressing against Rory’s belly, and even with the rubber on, it was hot as fire. Rory reached down, lined him up with a move that was way too fucking easy. He pushed, gritting his teeth against the amazing rush of pleasure. JW kept pushing until he was flush with that hot ass, right there, seated so deep he could feel Rory’s heartbeat.
“Dub. Dub.” Rory moaned the words against his lips.
“Yeah. I can’t… I need.” He started moving, rocking back and forth.
His hips slapped against Rory’s, punching in, filling Ro up.
He could do this forever. He wasn’t gonna last more than a few moments. It was all gonna be over the next time that body clamped down on him.
“Harder.” Demanding little shit.
Still, it fit with what he wanted, so JW moved faster, their skin slapping. He reached down to grab Rory’s cock, pulling in rhythm.
Rory grunted, shoulders rolling up as the bedsprings screamed. JW loved that, loved how those tile-worker muscles bunched and pulled. He loved how the movement made Rory’s body squeeze around his cock too.
“Fuck. Fuck, Dub. Need this.” Rory met each fucking thrust, riding him but good, thigh muscles squeezing around him. “Want you.”
“I got what you need. No matter what.” He did. He would tie Rory up, down, and all over town if he had to. They’d fucking danced around this shit long enough. It was time to take things back to good.
Rory bore down, squeezing him so tight and so perfect that he damned near lost it. The only thing that kept him from going over was knowing Rory wasn’t quite there. JW scraped his thumb over the head of Rory’s cock.
“Fuck!” Rory’s head snapped back, spunk splashing over his fingers, that sweet hole spasming around his prick.
“Oh God.” He lost it, his whole body rocking back and forth, his other hand on Rory’s hip, fingers bruising that fine skin. His bruises. He’d done that. Rory took him in and in, hands like steel on his arms. JW came down, his breath hitching in his chest. He could get used to this. So fucking easy.
He slumped down, breathing hard, panting against Rory’s chest. Fuck, that was intense. He nuzzled in, licking the sweat from Rory’s skin.
He felt Rory’s response, all around his prick. Goddamn, that was hot. There were at least a hundred things he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Not yet. Rory needed to rest. He needed to think on what to say so he wouldn’t fuck it up again.
JW dealt with the condom without letting Rory up, then settled down, one hand in the center of Rory’s chest when the man tried to move. “Stay.”
Rory opened his mouth, and JW pressed his fingers to those pretty lips. “No.”
It felt fucking amazing when Rory didn’t say nothin’, just relaxed back. Rested.
They would have to talk, for sure. Thank God it didn’t have to be now. JW closed his eyes and sighed, letting his shoulders slide down from around his ears. They’d really have to have that beer before they got into it any more than they had.
Like really.
RORY MCNEIL had done some weird-assed shit in his days. Hell, he was practically a fucking pervert as far as the assholes in this town were concerned—queer or not.
But waking up with Justin William Sanders lying naked across him while his ass was having a happy little ache—outside and inside, which usually meant good things, damn it—was without doubt the weirdest fucking sensation ever. Or at least the weirdest in twenty-four hours, since Jerrod had left him cuffed to the bed.
Now he had to fucking figure out what the hell to do next. Fight? Scream? Run screaming into the…. He craned his neck and looked at the window. Afternoon? Maybe he should pop a top and put some burgers on the grill.
Or take a shower.
There was a country song in this, no lie. There was always a country song in the really weird shit. It was stranger than fiction, life.
“Shh.” JW patted his hip, not quite awake.
The little touch was enough to make his cock jerk, though. Stupid fucking body. He’d had a thing for JW since they’d been teenagers, and when they’d grown, he’d not gotten a bit better about it. He’d thought sure JW had been over it, though, and the man had proved him wrong.
“Mmm.” JW rubbed a cheek against his shoulder, his whiskers hard and scratchy.
He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for a second. Whether that prayer was that JW was awake and knew who he was in bed with or that the man was still asleep, he wasn’t sure.
So long as they didn’t have to have that “what the fuck did you get me to do” discussion, Rory didn’t care.
“Hey.” Okay, so JW was awake and talking to him. “Is it morning?”
“I don’t think so?” Hell, he didn’t know. He thought it was still late in the day but not night yet.
“Well, it makes a difference, Ro.” JW yawned hugely, jaw cracking.
“It was afternoon when we”—fucked like rabid bunnies—“ate eggs. It’s still light now.”
“Huh.” JW pushed up and looked at the clock, which did crazy things to his lower body. “It’s just after six. So, must be p.m.”
“Yeah….” His eyes crossed a little at the weight, the pressure, against him. This was like a fucking wet dream.
“Should we get the dogs, do you think?”
“I’d better. They’re prob’ly wigged right to hell.” Poor babies. Stuck outside. He slid out from under JW, went to grab his sweatpants and cover his business. He’d never forgotten his dogs once in his adult life.
JW got up too, stretching a little, not putting any damned thing on. “Gonna hit the head.”
He nodded and headed outside to feed and water and give scritches. “Sorry, guys. Y’all hungry? You didn’t eat Melanie’s cat, did you? She’d be pissed.”
The dogs were freaked, wagging and licking his hands. They had water out there, but they’d want some food. He opened cans, gave everyone fresh water, and opened the bigger dog run to let them out. They would feel safer in there, feel like things were normal.
“Everyone all right?” JW came wandering into the kitchen, still buck naked, tall and ripped.
“They’re fine….” His mouth went dry as the desert, his eyes on the finest bastard on earth.
“Good. I could have that beer now, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” He stood for a second, staring, then headed for the fridge. Beer. Right. Beer and pants for Mr. Jesus I’m A Stud. He’d always known JW was stacked, but now the man was full-on adult male.
“You okay, buddy?” He could hear JW wandering around, looking in cabinets.
He opened his mouth to say yes, but what came out was “You’re naked and fucking fine.” Rory was fairly sure that wasn’t an answer.
JW smiled, those eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Is that bad?”
“Nope. It makes me a little stupid, though.”
JW gave him a slow, wicked smile. “Well, son, I thought you always was a little dumb.”
He flipped JW off, willing his cock not to rise. “I’m just fine, redneck.”
“Uh-huh. You are. Too bad I can’t see your ass. I put quite a shine on it.”
His lips parted, and he knew he looked like a landed fish. He. That. What the fuck? When had this all become so normal that JW could talk on it?
“What?” JW finally turned to the fridge, grabbing two beers and handing him one.
“You. What…? Is this a game, man? I mean, you’re my friend.” It wasn’t fucking fair—to be teased like this. He’d wanted so much for so long….
“I am.” JW popped the beer and took a long drink. “Your friend, I mean. I’m not messing with you. I….” JW frowned. “Do we gotta jaw about it, Ro? Every time I try to talk on shit like this I piss you off.”
“No. No, we ain’t gotta say a thing.” He opened his beer, drained it, the malt hitting his belly nice and solid.
He wasn’t sure what talking would do, anyway. If JW had been scratching an itch, fine. Rory’d proven more than once he was the scratching type. With all sorts of men.
“I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m tired of it being everyone but me, is all. I want you.” It was more than JW had ever said to him on the subject, at least since that one day so long ago, and a hell of a surprise.
He stared over, shook his head. “It’s always been you. No matter what.”
“Well, I didn’t know.” JW took another big sip of beer.
“Bullshit.” He didn’t fucking believe that for a second.
“What? You been around, buddy. You been all over town. I thought you left old JW in the dust a long time ago. Thought I was out of the race.” JW paused, head tilting. “Now I know what race I’m running, though. Figure I’ll win.”
“Didn’t see any reason to lose a friend over fucking when I could make believe.” He was damn good at that, as a matter of fact. “And you don’t know, you might not win. You might get beat out.”
“You think so?” JW straightened up, set the beer aside, and advanced on him. Like stalking him. It was hotter than he wanted to admit, being chased by the one guy he’d given up on.
He took one step back, then made himself stop. “Maybe.”
“Huh. Well, good thing thinking is more my strong suit than yours.” JW invaded his space, chest bumping his.
His cock went boing and his heart rate started speeding. Jesus, JW smelled fine. Like smell-good and soap and sex and beer. He could feel JW’s breath on his cheek.
He met JW’s gaze, and the heat in it liked to burn him to the bone.
“No one else is gonna do this to you, Ro.” JW traced the bruise on his face, thumb making gentle circles.
“I didn’t know he was a bastard.” His eyelids got heavy, and he moaned, so fucking there, so right there with JW.
“Uh-huh. Well, no one else does this but me either.” JW’s other hand slid into the back of his sweats, landing on his hot ass.
Oh fuck. “You sure about that?”
He sure as shit was. If JW wanted him, he was taken.
JW squeezed, making him rise up on his toes. “I am. I done made up my mind, Ro. I’m tired of being the one who listens to you drown your sorrows when I can do this for you.”
“You can.” Nobody’d done it so good. “If you want it, it’s yours.”
“I want it.” That was unshakable. JW had really made up his mind. Rory had heard that tone a million times in his life.
“Then it’s yours.” He reached out, cupped that fat, fine prick. “And this is mine.”
It was only fair. No more of JW going out of town to do whatever it was he did.
JW’s cock rose even higher for him, reaching up. “That’s the way it works.”
He nodded, mouth watering. “Okay then.”
“Good deal. You hungry, or you want to go get it on again?” He could tell from the leap in JW’s pulse which one the man wanted to do.
He licked his lips, moaning low as he went to his knees, tongue sliding over the wet slit.
“Oh fuck, Rory. Yeah. Yeah.” JW held his head, one big hand cradling the back of his skull.
Rory breathed in deep, the scent of his man like fucking heaven. He opened up and took JW in, lips fastening about half down that fat prick as he began to pull. JW’s hips started to move, rolling in slow motions, pushing in and out, and he took it, sort of loved it, his own hips responding, his prick aching in his sweats. That hard, tight ass flexed under his hands, and he squeezed, wanting to feel everything. JW grunted, pushing all the way to the back of his throat. Rory swallowed hard, fighting to keep him there, just a second.
“Ro….” The word sounded like someone had torn it from JW’s chest.
Rory groaned, swallowed again, and when JW’s hand pushed hard against the back of his head, he damn near creamed himself.
It took maybe three more seconds of sucking and pulling before JW was losing the rhythm, bruising Rory’s lips and coming against the back of his throat. It was all he could do to swallow the man down, hips sawing as his balls ached, as Dub’s flavor hit him.
“Get up here.” JW pulled him to his feet, one hand on his ass, the other grabbing his cock.
“Touch me.” He couldn’t help the growl; he needed so fucking bad.
“Anything.” That big hand closed around the base of his cock, then stroked up. JW’s other hand got busy too, fingers finding his hole, tapping at it. He was still the slightest bit sore, in the best sort of way, body well used, well fucked, and he wanted to feel it again.
“You’re so damned pretty, Ro. So hot for me.”
“Dub!” Jesus, he’d never thought for a second JW could be a talker, could say shit that made him stupid.
“What?” That smile was dangerous, hot, and a little hard around the edges. Someone was looking ready to go the distance. He would never have believed it if he wasn’t there.
“I…. Damn. Damn, man. You make me ache.” He was voting for something a lot more intense than aching.
“I want to make you fly, Ro. Want to make sure you never want anyone else.”
Shit, he’d wanted JW from the get-go. Still, it didn’t hurt to push. “Bring it on, redneck.”
JW picked him right up, right there in the kitchen, and plopped his ass on the kitchen table. The man spread him wide, stepping between his legs. Oh fuck. Nothing had been so hot, nothing ever. His whole fucking world was JW.
“God. No condoms in here, I bet.” JW pressed against him, tilting his hips down so their cocks rubbed together.
“No. Usually keep ’em in every room, but…,” he teased.
One of JW’s hands moved lightning fast, smacking against his hip. “You be good.”
“No way.” It was way more fucking fun to be bad, especially when it was JW correcting him.
A low noise came from JW’s chest, almost a growl, and JW kissed him, bending him damned near double. Rory considered dying, but it was too fucking hot, too right. Too good to give up.
JW reached between them and did something to their cocks with those long fingers, and Rory had to wonder where JW had learned some of this stuff. Being on the road all the time, he guessed, maybe in truck stops. That was a game they’d have to play some day. Truck stop pickup with each other.
His fucking balls ached, his cock suddenly, viciously hard, toes curling.
“That’s it.” JW’s thumb scraped a little at the base of his cock.
“Yes.” He bit the word out, body flying.
“Fuck. Fuck.” JW was moving hard now, pushing against him, hard as anything, all over again.
He nodded and bucked like a fucking cowboy, his ass sliding on the table. Those iron hands held him, kept him from going off the edge. There were gonna be new bruises on his thigh. He did his part by holding on to the table, keeping himself on.
JW was really on a roll, and damned if the man wasn’t gnawing on him, teeth blunt and hard on his shoulder.
“Shit!” He pushed into the bite, higher than a kite.
They rocked together, cocks rubbing, JW’s balls pressing against him. This was fucking magic. The edge of the table bit into his tender ass; JW’s hands bit into his arms. Oh fuck. Yes.
“Rory. Need you now. Come on. Come on.” JW demanded his damned orgasm, staring straight into his eyes.
“Dub.” Jesus. Jesus. So good. So fucking good. He shot so fucking hard his teeth rattled.
“Oh God.” He felt it when JW went off again, just like a firecracker. Yeah.
He watched the whole thing, every second of pleasure. Then he touched JW’s chin. Damn. JW grinned a little, stubble rubbing Rory’s hand. The man looked stupid happy.
“You want to go out to the lake, man? Take some beers and a pole?”
“Hell yeah.”
It seemed so weird to be so casual with JW’s weight heavy on him and some kind of utensil digging into his back. Still, this was his best friend. They’d handled weirder shit together.
Hell, there wasn’t a snake involved in this, at least not yet.
You never knew what would happen if they went fishing.
JW LET himself into Rory’s place, dropped his duffel bag on the living room floor, and braced himself for the assault of the dogs. He knew Rory was out on a job, but he’d just finished up a seven-day run, and he didn’t want to go to his own lonely little place.
Hell, maybe he ought to talk to Ro about moving in. Rory and him had been pretty intimate lately.
Shit, he’d done things to that fine little ass that would frighten fish. Made his mouth dry thinking about the way Ro’s skin bruised, how those lips got swollen around his cock.
He’d even tied Rory up once, to get past the mental scars the damned handcuffs had left. They were still working on that, but it had been damned fine, had made them both scream. He could still remember how Rory had looked, all red skin and bright green eyes, struggling against the chains to take his cock deep in that body.
After he let the dogs out into their run, he leaned into Rory’s couch, settling onto the soft leather. Damn, he did like this sofa. He had to admit the man had a feel for the sensual. In fact, the thought of that gave JW a happy. A big one.
His hand slipped into his pants, down his belly, heading for his balls.
He was caught up in a hot little fantasy about Rory’s ass and his hand, one that was progressing from tanning said ass to something way more porn movie when the door between the garage and the house opened, footsteps coming in toward him.
“You finish that tile job early, babe?”
The footsteps stuttered, then stopped.
“Ro?” JW was glad his hands were in his pants, really. He’d been too lazy to unzip. He had a feeling maybe Rory’s brother had stopped by or something, and this was way easier to fix than full-on naked.
“Who the fuck’s in here?” Now that voice he recognized. He’d heard it once at a bar, when Rory had pointed the man out, but he would always remember it. That was that smarmy fuck, Jerrod. There was no reason for Jerrod to be anywhere around here. Not unless the bastard was up to something illegal. Robbing his Rory again. Fucker.
JW pulled his hands free and climbed slowly to his feet, moving out of the way of the furniture so he wouldn’t get fouled up in it. “Well, well, Jerrod. Just like a fucking coward like you to come sneaking in and try to rob a man blind.”
One eyebrow raised, head tilting, the big old boy looking about as mean as a snake. “Hey, I got a key. Me and Rory, we got an agreement.”
“Yeah? When did you make that agreement, man? When you stole all his shit last time?” He knew better. Rory was his, sure as the day was long. There weren’t gonna be any more agreements with anyone else.
Asshole got himself all puffy, teeth baring and all. “Don’t know what the little fucker told you, but he was asking for it.”
His hands clenched into fists, and JW took a step forward. “How? By wanting to play a little? That’s bullshit, you motherfucker.”
“He’s a filthy little perv, you know that, right? Nasty fucker.” Those eyes narrowed. “Then again, you were smart enough to turn him down ages ago. He told me all about you, his long-lost love.”
That was it. JW didn’t need to hear one more word. So he went up on the balls of his feet and put all his weight behind his arm, punching the foulmouthed bastard right in the kisser. Jerrod rocked back on his heels, the sound of crunching teeth damn satisfying.
Damn, that was so good he went again.
Jerrod didn’t get but one or two decent blows in, so JW could see why the bastard would have to tie Rory up to rob him. Bastard was bleeding from half-dozen cuts, and was backing toward the garage, when the front door opened.
“What the fuck?” Rory stopped, stared, snarled. “Oh, you motherfucker….”
“Fuck.” Jerrod turned tail and ran, heading back out through the garage, which was the key Rory obviously hadn’t missed from the ring.
Rory took off like a fuck-starved jackrabbit. “You slimy bastard! I’ll tear your fucking cock off and shove it down your throat.”
That might be worth watching.
JW followed more slowly, though, knowing Rory wasn’t gonna catch the man. Well, not unless Rory threw that old broken chair at the guy, hitting him right between the shoulder blades.
Ouch.
Okay, that was going to leave a bruise—not quite as big of one as when Rory picked up said chair and started beating the pulp out of the man.
Wow.
“Come on, baby.” The endearment popped right out, making him chuckle. “Ro! Come on, man. He’s down.”
Rory kicked Jerrod. Twice. “Give me my fucking keys.”
“I only took one.” Jerrod spat out a tooth. “Here. Take the fucking thing.”
“I ever see you again, asshole, I’ll beat you down.”
JW thought Rory had already basically done that. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. JW wanted to press charges, but then he’d have to wait to have Rory to himself.
And puffed-up, pissed-off Rory was the hottest fucking thing he’d seen in days. Besides, no one wanted to have to explain what all was going on.
Jarrod ran off, Rory watching every second of it before closing and locking the garage door. JW waited until Rory turned to face him, grinning a little at how beat-up their knuckles were.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Rory stared at him. “You cool?”
“Me? I’m good.” He was a little hard, actually. Better than good.
“Good.” Rory turned to head into the house, spine like a stiff rod.
Shit. Someone was thinking too much. JW followed. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you want a beer?”
No, that wasn’t what he wanted. Not one bit. He moved right up behind Rory, hands on the narrow hips. “No. No, baby. I want you.”
He drew Rory into the basket of his hips, let the man feel how much he wanted. He could feel how damned stiff the man was, and he could feel it start to melt away.
“Glad you were here.”
The bite mark he’d left on Rory’s shoulder the night before he left was gone now, the tan skin all even and waiting on him again. JW murmured something affirmative, licking that little spot. He was glad too.
“Was thinking I ought to move in.”
“Yeah?” Rory didn’t sound worried, didn’t tense up. “My place is bigger. You’d fit nice.”
Not to mention that Rory had a mortgage instead of a lease. And that meant there would be less of a smell when JW got home from a long run….
“Yeah. That way you’d have someone else to keep an eye out.”
“Need to bring your bed, though.” Rory’s tight little ass pressed against his prick, making threats and promises.
He was gonna start drooling. “Mmm. Bigger. Has the big posts too.”
“Yeah. Like my kitchen table, though. Good height.”
Oh God yes. It was the perfect height. They’d started this whole thing in the kitchen, after all. JW pushed up and forward, letting Rory feel him again. Rory groaned and stepped forward enough he could lean that fine son of a bitch over, admire the line of near-naked back in the old wifebeater, that ass in the jeans.
Sweet. He pushed the tank top up, baring the length of Rory’s spine. JW ran his fingers up and down, testing the smooth skin.
Ro grunted for him, muscles rippling, hips rolling enough that the sweet bubble butt curled under a little bit, teasing him. Humming, he pulled with the hand still on Rory’s hip, rubbing nice and hard. Then he bent over Rory’s rounded back and bit that spot, his spot, on Rory’s shoulder.
That earned him the sweetest fucking sound, one that he knew meant he had all of Rory’s attention, that there wasn’t a damn thing worrying Rory’s brain but what he was fixin’ to do next and how much it was gonna ache.
He grinned wider, reaching around to undo Rory’s belt and jeans, then pushed them down.
“You sure I’m in the mood, man?” Rory sounded like he’d been gargling sand.
“Oh, baby. When have I not been able to get you in the mood?” He pinched the little indentation above Rory’s hip.
He did love to watch that ass tighten, to see the muscles bunch and roll. Hungry little fucker.
Licking his lips, JW scraped his fingers down over Rory’s hip, digging into the skin. Then he slapped one hard, round cheek.
“Fuck!” Oh hell yeah. Rory’s chest lifted, and he planted one hand right between the man’s shoulder blades and shoved. He wanted that bent-over look, wanted access to that amazing ass.
Wanted to see the skin turn red from his hand.
Fuck, he’d never thought it would become a goddamn addiction. He’d thought it was about giving Rory what he needed. Turned out it was what JW craved too.
He let his hand fly again, connecting with that smooth, hot little ass, fingers curling around Rory’s hip this time. Rory barked out a couple of curse words, and JW punished him and rewarded him with two more hard spanks.
“Fucker!” Rory bucked as he swung again, and fuck, it was blistering between them.
“Soon, baby.” He would fuck that ass ten ways from Sunday, but he wanted it glowing first.
“Dub.” Rory rocked back into the next blow, moaning. “More.”
“Mine. He tried to lie, tried to tell me he had an arrangement with you. I knew he was lying.” That was important for Rory to know.
“Yeah. Yeah, Dub. Yours. Swear to God. Every fucking inch. I need you, man.”
“Good.” He bit again, his lips sealing over the bite after. He peppered Rory’s ass, sucking at Rory’s skin, leaving his marks. There was no way he could stop. He had to have more.
He had to have everything.
He pushed against Rory’s hot ass, the skin on fire against his. Which damned drawer had they put the lube in?
“Dub. Dub, please. Please. Hard and deep, man. Need your cock.”
He groaned, popping that ass one more time. “Lube, man.”
“Uh. Uh…. Junk drawer. Next to the sink. Hurry up.” Pushy little bastard.
JW laughed for sheer joy, though, and moved a few feet away to grab the slick and the rubbers. Took him like twenty seconds to get the condom on and get wet stuff sliding in and out of that tight hole.
Fuck. Fuck, look at that. He rested one hand in the small of Rory’s back, watched his fingers appear and disappear over and over. It was crazy erotic, to know his cock would be right there soon.
“Sweet fuck.” He moaned the words, licking his lips. “So hot, baby.”
“Yeah. Yeah, for you. Nobody else.”
That was fucking right. Nobody else. Ever.
JW gritted his teeth against the need to come. He had to hold on long enough to give Rory a good ride. He got himself lined up, pressed the tip of his cock against that tight, sweet hole and gave the littlest push, letting the wrinkled hole spread slowly for him.
“Tight.” So tight. Such a perfect fit for him.
“Uh-huh.” Rory’s deep moan filled the air, Rory’s head down, leaning on the table.
It was the perfect position for JW to see that amazing ass, to watch his cock slide in, then out. Fucking A.
He got himself a nice, slow rhythm, burying himself in inch by slow inch. He rubbed Rory’s back, getting those tight muscles to relax. When he was sunk in to the root, he stopped, took a long, shaky breath.
Damn.
“You good, baby?” He wouldn’t actually hurt Rory. They weren’t into that.
“Oh fuck yes.” Rory wiggled a bit, and that made his fucking mouth dry. “Full of you.”
“Uh-huh. Want you to feel me for days. Got three days off, Ro.”
“Hell yes. Days to play. You and me.”
He pulled out slowly, then shoved back in, nodding like crazy. “Hell yes.”
“Again. Oh God. Again.”
He did it again, then again, his breath coming in sharp gasps.
Rory went up on his hands, driving back against every thrust. It made them slap together, made their skin slip and slide as they perspired. Rory’s ass was a fist around him, body squeezing hard enough that he wanted to scream.
JW grabbed Rory’s hips in an unshakable grip, slamming into that amazing little hole, every muscle in his body shaking.
“Yes! There! Dub, there!”
His. That ass was his. That sound. That need.
All his.
He hit that sweet spot as many times as he could, his vision going cloudy, sweat pouring off him.
Rory started shaking, started making those noises, and the final inning was fixin’ to end. That was okay; JW knew how to swing for the fences. He thrust, his hips hitting Rory’s ass hard enough that it stung.
His name rang right out like the best sort of prayer, and he could smell Rory, rich and male and musky.
JW lost it, coming hard, filling the damned condom. He bit down on Rory’s upper arm, which was all he could reach.
“T… toothy son of a bitch.”
He could feel Rory’s heart racing.
“Mmm. I could eat you up. We ought to go get tested.”
“Did. Last week. Figured it was time.”
He wasn’t sure if it was cool or maddening that Rory’d outthought him. He knew for sure that he had to go get tested too. He’d made some choices that might just make Rory blush.
“Not sharing you, you get that, yeah?”
“I get it.” That was pretty clear. He thought it was pretty damned clear that he wasn’t letting anyone else have an arrangement with Rory.
It was a little weird, having a talk with his cock in Rory’s ass.
“Good.” Rory’s ass squeezed his cock.
JW grunted, his body shivering. “Stop that, you tease.”
“Make me, you pushy ass.” That hole gripped his prick again, the pressure maddening.
His eyes rolled back, but he had to pull out and get rid of the used condom. Damn it.
He thought maybe he heard Rory’s soft laughter teasing him. He popped Rory’s hip, leaving a handprint, making Rory loosen up. He pulled free and got rid of the condom before starting to show Rory how bitey he could be.
Rory was standing, trying to pull up his jeans. Like JW was going to let him get away.
“Oh, now. Hold up, baby.” He held that belt from the back. “Where you going?”
“Just putting my shit back together.”
“Well, you’d be better off taking it off. I ain’t done yet.”
Mmm. Look at that pretty little shiver. Nobody on earth wanted like his baby. Maybe they needed to move this to the bedroom. That way the whole thing with Jerrod could get washed away in the shower.
He got them moving, nice and easy, his hands hard enough on Rory’s hips that the man couldn’t forget they were there for even a second. He took them right into Rory’s bedroom, then into the attached bath. They needed to wash away the day.
Rory got the shower going while he stripped down to nothing. He made sure the baby oil was sitting on the edge of the tub—proof that Rory was using one of those plugs or dildos on that sweet little ass while he was gone. Hungry fucker.
Who had an agreement now? He shook off the rage at that fuckhead Jerrod and grabbed the baby oil, getting a good bit on his palms so he could rub it into Rory’s skin. That ass was all but blistered.
“Mmm. Dub.” Rory pushed right into his hands, skin hot as fire where it slid against his palms. “Glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” He’d thought about seeing if he could get shorter hauls, maybe do some local driving so he could be home more.
So he could touch like he wanted to. He’d had to wait fucking long enough, after all, had to watch other men take what was his. Now Rory was all his, except he wasn’t home enough to fucking enjoy….
“Huh?”
“I said pay attention, redneck. You’re woolgathering.”
“I was thinking I ought to be home more.” He grinned, though, rubbing his hands over Rory’s ass, easing the red skin so he could have at it again later.
“I wouldn’t say no to that.”
He let his slick fingers tease Rory’s swollen hole too. “No? Even if I was around here all the time?”
“Been your friend for a long time, man.”
He stopped, his hands right there, squeezing down on Rory’s ass. “A lot more than that now, baby.”
“Yeah. Looks like we got our shit figured.” Rory spread for him, leaned forward, easy as pie.
Just like that. Just that damned good. JW nodded, thumb pushing at Rory’s entrance. “Guess we do.”
RORY NODDED at Mel, grinned, held up two fingers. Lord, the place was buzzing tonight. Wouldn’t be a decent table for love or money. Must be a band in from Dallas or some such shit.
Whatever. JW was coming in from a short run, was supposed to have Walt drop him off. They could have their one beer and then head for the hills. He had T-bones up at the house and everything.
Mel handed two Buds over; he passed her a ten and blew her a kiss. Such a good girl.
“Rory? You out and about? Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age!” Keller Walker slapped him on the shoulder, one beer splashing on his fingers. “Last I heard, the rumor was you’d taken up AA or some such.”
“Hell no.” Rory smiled easily, but moved out from under the grasping hand. Only one person had those rights now. “Been busy.”
“Good for you. Lots of remodeling work, huh?” He got a lecherous, slimy smile. “You available to bid a job tonight?”
“I’m off the clock.” Not likely. “How’s your wife?”
That was the excuse Keller’d used last, when the time for a quick leaving had come.
“She’s fine. Fine.” The guy’s face fell, but he didn’t quite back off. “I want to spend some time looking at figures.”
“He’s not working tonight.” JW came up next to them, looking fine as anything in Wranglers and a pressed shirt.
“JW.” He handed over his lover’s beer, offered Dub his grin, back turning on Keller. “How’s it going?”
“Better now. That last twenty miles seemed like they was never gonna end.” He got the smile that JW reserved for him alone, slow and hot and perfect.
That made him shivery, made him half-hard, and he had forgotten all about Keller when a hand landed on his shoulder again, shaking him.
“I’m serious, Rory. If not tonight, then tomorrow. My wife’s at her sister’s for the weekend.”
JW turned on Keller, their chests bumping. “You still here? I told you, man, he ain’t working tonight, and he don’t want nothin’ else you got.”
Look at that puffy redneck. Made Rory’s mouth a little dry, really. Made him want to make offers that were absolutely one hundred percent not appropriate in the club.
Keller’s mouth opened and closed like a landed fish, and Rory chuckled softly. “We got to get home, man. Call David Baker; he needs work.”
Then he bumped shoulders with JW. “Finish your damn beer.”
“Shit, baby. I just got here.” JW popped his butt, one good swat that had him going up on tiptoes.
“You want to hang out?” Instead of taking him somewhere and making him scream? That didn’t seem like JW at all.
“No.” JW drank the beer down in a few swallows, that tanned throat working. “No, I want to tear your ass up.”
He tossed the keys over. “Maybe it’s my turn to have at yours.” Poking JW was one of his favorite fucking pastimes.
Fucking pastimes. He made himself chuckle.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Your ass, my hand. It’s heaven.” JW stopped, cheeks going dark-dark. “Oh man.”
“What? What’s up?” JW looked like he’d swallowed a damn frog.
“I—my hand. In you.” JW looked around, cheeks going even darker. “Not here.”
“No. No. Not here.” He put his bottle down, maybe a little too hard, the heavy glass cracking. “You ready?”
He.
That.
Damn.
“I am.” JW put the other bottle down with a thump and grabbed his arm, steering him past a couple of gawking buddies of his.
They headed out the door, and he knew the rumors would be flying before they left the parking lot—how him and Dub had a fight. That worked for him, well enough. He knew better. There wasn’t gonna be no fighting, at least on his part.
He climbed up into the passenger’s seat, neither one of them saying a word for a few minutes, the tension in the air thick as October fog.
JW glanced over. “We don’t have to. I got my thing from the doc. I’m clean. We can just fuck.”
“Ain’t nothing saying we got to choose, is there?” Hell, they had a couple three days in a row.
“No.” He got that smile again, sideways this time, JW starting to settle a little. “No, we can do anything.”
He reached out, touched JW’s wrist, his cock so hard it ached. “Yep. Anything.”