headlights from Rory’s truck grew closer in the rearview mirror drawing Chance’s attention away from his thoughts. Rory was driving pretty damn close to Chance’s bumper, which did funny things to his heart.
“Looks like someone is in a hurry, though hopefully not too much of one.” Chance reached down and squeezed his dick through soft denim. He was so ready to go a pothole might set him off. Jesus, he wanted to take all night with Rory, but at the rate his dick was leaking, he’d be lucky if he didn’t come before the other man finished stripping.
Chance slid his hand down a little lower and grasped his balls, clenching them tight enough to have tears stinging his eyes. It only helped a little bit—his dick didn’t soften any but at least he could focus on something other than reaming Rory’s tight ass—
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“Damn it!” Chance squeezed again. “If this keeps up I won’t have any fucking balls left by the time we get home!”
Contracts, he’d think about the contracts he was hoping to someday get with the SWGR. The Southwest Gay Rodeo was something Chance wished he’d been aware of when he’d been rodeoing—he might have been able to stay in the circuit for a few more years had he joined it when it started up. But no, he’d been a cocky young fool, and it had cost him.
Chance pulled onto the dirt road leading down to the ranch and instantly, Rory was tight on his tail. If he had to break for a deer or any other critter, they were screwed. Chance gave the truck more gas, telling himself it was to create a little space between the two vehicles, but he couldn’t convince himself of that when he was burning to get home, to get Rory inside and strip the man bare.
Rory’s truck zoomed past him once they pulled into the drive, drawing a pained laugh from Chance. Looked like he wasn’t the only one in a hurry. He opened his door just in time to have Rory reach in with both hands and half lift him from the truck. Damn, the man was strong.
Chance was vaguely aware of two cowboy hats flying into the truck as Rory took his mouth with a hunger that matched Chance’s own. He couldn’t register the tongues and teeth, the fitting together of lips as any one individual act—instead, Chance’s whole body felt like it was being consumed by Rory. A hard tug had their bodies pressed together from chest to knees. Arms like steel bands clamped around Chance and tried to merge two bodies into one.
All Chance could do was meet that kiss, hold on to Rory for dear life and hope like hell he wouldn’t be as changed from this one moment in time as he feared.
Somehow, with this kiss, Chance felt that he was the one being possessed, and he’d given Rory part of his soul in the claiming. A bolt of fear shot through Chance, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away. Jesus, if giving up a part of himself meant this powerful heat surging through his body would continue, he’d do it—again and again, until there was nothing of himself left without Rory.
And that was something that sent a quiver throughout him, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. Chance shut his mind down and let his body take over, sucking on Rory’s tongue and drawing a low moan from the man. Big hands clasped Chance’s ass and forced his cock to mash up against Rory’s.
Chance would swear he could feel every protruding vein on the other man’s thick cock RORY’S LAST CHANCE
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even through the layers of clothes. He ground his cock against Rory’s, friction and pressure making it give up beads of pre cum. He was so close…
“Rory.” Chance pulled back just enough to speak, letting the name brush over the younger man’s kiss-swollen lips. Rory tried to dive back into Chance’s mouth with a single-minded determination that had Chance forcing his hands between them until he could shove against the hard wall of muscle that was Rory’s chest.
It didn’t
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