Laird's Choice

by Remmy Duchene

  "Ass!"

  "Laird!" Race grabbed his arm and ran to stand before him. "What did you expect my reaction would be to that statement? Come on! Cut a guy some slack. That was funny."

  Laird only glared at him, and Race fought to keep a straight face. He may not have dated in a while but he never forgot—laughing would be the absolute wrong thing to do in this situation. He brushed a strand of hair from Laird's face, searching the man's clear green eyes for a moment before stepping in closer. "You're not a slut, Laird.

  And you didn't throw yourself at me. You make it seem like I wasn't right there with you. I was as turned on as you if not more—so this isn't all on you."

  Still Laird said nothing.

  "Damn it, Laird."

  Laird pushed his hand away and stepped around

  him. "I have to go look up some properties for you." With that said, he disappeared into the house. Race removed his hat and dragged his fingers through his hair before slamming the hat back to his head and storming into the house.

  "Hey, Race, Laird just…" Winston started.

  "Not now!"

  "Race! What's going on?"

  "Not now, Winston!"

  Race stalked through the house, down the hall and knocked on Laird's door. When no answer came, he turned the knob and stepped in, closing the door behind him. He removed his hat, tossed it on a nearby chair, and rested his back on the door. Laird was seated at the desk with his laptop open.

  "Are we going to do this every time?" Race questioned.

  "No," Laird replied, without looking up. "There won't be an every time."

  "I see."

  Walking across the room, he gripped the back of

  Laird's chair, spinning him around. When their eyes met, he could tell Laird was mad. Smiling, he inched the chair back until it crashed into the desk. He leaned in then, trapping Laird between the chair, desk, and his body. Laird grabbed his shoulders but Race allowed his eyes to drift shut as he inhaled Laird's scent, memorizing it, allowing it to captivate him. He bowed his head to Laird's neck, licking the warm flesh, savoring the taste. He left his hands where they were, against the arms of the chair for he knew should he touch Laird he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He remembered the night before and that if they hadn't been so rudely interrupted, he would have gone further. Dragging his tongue up the side of Laird's neck, he dropped a kiss on the spot just beneath Laird's ear. A sigh left Laird's lips and Race took that as the sign he needed to pull Laird's earlobe between his teeth.

  "You have to stop," Laird whispered.

  "Why is that?"

  "Because like you; I have my secrets."

  "You have a mole I need to know about?"

  Laird chuckled. "No moles—that I know of, and if I have, no one has said anything over the years."

  "Then don't worry about it."

  Snaking his tongue over the ear, he let a kiss fall at the side of Laird's face before moving his mouth down to hover above Laird's lips. He brushed Laird's mouth, caressing it with his own. When Laird's arms went up around him, Race sighed and shifted his head. But soon Laird's fingers were tangled in his hair and pulling his mouth down. When their lips finally fused, a growl erupted from Race's chest, making his knees weak and sending fire surging through his veins. He feasted on Laird's mouth, drawing Laird's tongue in then shoving his own into Laird's mouth. His breath left him quickly now, his heart racing and cock pulsing. He couldn't take a breath for fear of exploding and all he could do was suck on Laird's tongue and lips as if his life depended on it.

  * * * *

  Laird's mind had nothing to do with what was

  happening between them. His cock, heart, and soul took over, causing him to tug Race's head back using the cowboy's hair and gripping the front of his shirt where the buttons fused through the holes. Locking gazes with Race, Laird curled his finger over the attached button then deliberately, slowly, pulled. One button flew off catching him in the chest before his hand fell down to the next. Then one by one, each button snapped and landed somewhere around them. Laird didn't release Race from his stare even as he pushed the shirt down Race's arms, released his hair and wrapped his hand around Race's back, pressing the palm to the cowboy's back. Licking his lips, Laird finally looked down to Race's chest and saw precisely what he wanted. Both the cowboy's now hardened nipples were pierced and wearing silver. He licked his lips, grabbed Race's shoulder, and pushed slightly.

  Rising slowly, he took in Race's body, noting the necklace around his muscular neck; it was a black string with a shark's tooth and the letter S as the pendants.

  Looking downward, his eyes fell to the tattoos decorating Race's chest and arm. On the left side was a tattoo of a very pissed off tiger, and on his arm was a strange looking tribal tattoo. Moaning in rabid satisfaction, Laird wrapped his arms around Race's hips, hunched down slightly, and pulled the first bud into his mouth. Race hissed. Laird swirled his tongue over the nipple, hooking his teeth into the silver piece of jewelry and pulling slightly.

  "Shit!" Race growled, tugging on Laird's hair. "Pull it harder!"

  Laird did as he was ordered and Race shivered

  beneath his body. Releasing the small, silver bar, he sucked the abused nipple while lifting his hand to the other and pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. His free hand was yanking at the button on the front of Race's pants. Race pushed him away and backed up. Laird growled and

  attacked. He moved swiftly across the space, wrapping his arm around the back of Race's neck to take his lips. Race smirked and tried shoving him away again and together they sailed across the room and crashed into the dresser. A bottle of cologne slipped off and smashed to the floor.

  Laird didn't so much as look down. They were moving again as Race struggled with him. Once more they crashed into the dresser and the other bottles there rattled. They spun around until Laird was against the dresser, pinching one of Race's nipples harder and harder.

  Race's head fell backward, hair spilling beautifully over his back, but Laird didn't let him stay like that too long before the nipple was bathed by Laird's tongue again.

  "Damn," Race swore, burying his fingers into Laird's hair and pushing his nipple deeper into Laird's mouth. "So damn good…"

  "Was this what you wanted?" Laird asked then grazed the nipple with his teeth. "Is this how you like it, Race?"

  Race grunted and slipped away from Laird. He

  backed across the room, fire blazing in his eyes. Laird unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it from his shoulders. He trailed a hand over his chest and rippled abs then sank his fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. He saw Race's body change and knew the cowboy liked what he was seeing. Ever so slowly, he undid his belt then the button and pulled the zipper down. With his pants and boxers around his ankles he stepped away, pulled his arousal in a tight fist, and jerked himself slowly.

  "Laird?" Winston hollered from the other side of the door.

  "Go away!" Race replied, eyeing Laird's cock like his next meal.

  "Is everything okay?" Winston called instead.

  "I swear, Winston," Laird called. "Go away!"

  There was a soft chuckle from the other side of the door before it seemed Winston left. Laird went back to taking great pleasure in watching Race's eyes change colors until the cowboy let his head fall and his hair spilled into his face. Laird moaned and let his own head fall back and his eyes drift closed. That was when Race made his move.

  He was behind Laird, with one hand around Laird's hip and the other hand against Laird's back guiding him to the bed.

  Once there, Laird felt himself fall forward, bouncing slightly on the bed before Race's hands were clawing at his cheeks and pulling them apart. Laird struggled to get away but couldn't before Race's long, wet tongue snaked between his cheeks and impaled him.

  "Fuck!" he swore, reaching back and clutching the back of Race's head. He pushed down. "Yes!" In his pleasure, he slammed his fist into the bed then pushed upward to his knees. Race sim
ply shoved against his ass and dove in to feed from his hole again. Laird felt it the moment his eyes rolled back into his head and his body shook violently under the delicious assault. Every slide of Race's tongue drove him farther and farther to the edge.

  The idea Race hadn't freaked out with his roughness but had simply played around tore at his very core, and he pressed his eyes shut. He whimpered, clutching the sheets in both fists, and rode back against Race's tongue.

  "Are you going to come for me, Laird?" Race asked, his voice a low, husky drawl.

  Laird couldn't reply; he couldn't think.

  "Come on, Laird," Race baited. "Speechless are we?"

  Laird was too far gone to say much. All he could do was lay there, twitching, moaning, trying to think. A long, thick finger slid into him.

  "Race…" he pleaded helplessly before his toes curled.

  His body went stiff, and then suddenly he was

  trembling. He had no power to open his eyes. His mouth opened in a silent O before his cock pulsated and erupted against the bed beneath him. His orgasm was so good it was almost painful. He rode it out, with Race's finger deep within him.

  "Shit… damn, Race!" He finally found his voice before pressing his face into the bed. Race slipped from him, caressing up his back before he felt Race's weight laying atop him, pressing him sweetly into the bed. Laird moaned, accepting Race's kisses against the back of his neck and the side of his head.

  "See, Laird? It's not that I don't want you. I can't seem to control myself around you. Like I said last night—

  we have to take this slow, because once you find out what I've done, you'll never be able to forgive me."

  "That's a way to throw cold water on a buzz," Laird moaned. "Why don't you stop saying that and tell me what happened."

  "Because I need the perfect words."

  "No, Race," Laird replied, rolling over. He turned his head in time to watch Race fall on his back to the bed beside him. "You don't need the perfect words—just the truth."

  Their eyes met again and Race inhaled. Laird closed his eyes, pressing his face shamelessly into the cowboy's hand as Race reached up to caress his cheek and dragged a thumb over Laird's lips. "Always the truth, Laird." Race's voice hitched as he said his name. Opening his eyes, Laird bowed his head and kissed Race's bare shoulder.

  "So tell me…"

  "I—ah… can't."

  Laird sighed. "You know, guys always say stuff like that—trying to be ominous. Then when they finally reveal what they were hiding it's not that horrid at all."

  A sad smile traced Race's succulent lips—the same lips that had just done so many wonderful things to Laird's body. "Trust me, Laird. This is horrid. But I know your secret."

  "You do?"

  "You like it rough… rough in ways you think I don't understand and will never accept. Am I right?"

  Laird bowed his head, feeling the wind fall from his sails.

  "And I think if you could, you would have bitten me. I think I'd let you try."

  Laird thought about it, and the idea of sinking his teeth into Race turned him on again. His aroused cockhead brushed the sheet and he groaned.

  Chapter Five

  Laird sat on the windowsill and watched Race as he looked around the home. For a moment, he disappeared into another room and Laird tilted his head trying to catch a glimpse of the cowboy. But all he heard were footsteps.

  Smiling, he turned and looked out the window at the rolling waters of the ocean off in the distance. He could hear the water crashing into the rocks, and periodically a seagull would screech. Other than that, it was quiet, peaceful; precisely what Race had asked for.

  "This is perfect," Race's voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked around to see Race leaning against the doorframe of the living room. "After all the searching, I think this one is perfect."

  "Do you want to put in an offer?"

  Race smiled, walked over to him, and leaned over.

  Laird closed his eyes and helplessly offered up his lips. A sigh escaped as Race skillfully kissed him until his mind screamed with pleasure and his body trembled. He pulled his mouth away only for air but when he opened his eyes, Race was looking at him in that way that made his heart swell and his cock jerk with excitement.

  "Race, no," he protested, half-heartedly. "Another agent could be coming in to show the place!"

  "Think of the surprise," Race whispered, fingers busying themselves undoing Laird's shirt. "And the thought of getting caught?"

  "Turns me on."

  "Now, Mr Anatolis. I am a big believer in

  perfecting the art of the quickie."

  Laird couldn't help the laughter rippling from his body. Shaking his head, he eased up a little so Race could get his shirt off. Slowly, Race slid to his knees and Laird watched with baited breath as Race's mouth moved closer and closer to his flesh. The cowboy roamed his body, leaving a hot, wet trail from his shoulder, down slightly then captured a nipple. As Race's tongue flowed over the tender bud, Laird wrapped his legs around Race's back, tossed his head back, and moaned. The heat surging up his spine sent Race's name tumbling from his lips, especially after Race moved across to the next nipple before drifting downward to plunge his tongue into Laird's belly button.

  He felt Race's hands against his zipper and though a faint voice told him they should stop, he buried his fingers into Race's long hair and guided Race's mouth to his exposed dick. With his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, Laird watched, breathing stopped, as Race inched closer and closer. When the head was engulfed in his lover's mouth, Laird pushed down against the back of Race's head, feeling every glorious bit of him slip between Race's beautiful lips. He could finally breathe again but now the air was pulled in when Race sucked him deep and pushed out when Race lifted his head. He'd thought he couldn't feel any better with Race—that the novelty would wear off once he'd had a taste of the delicious cowboy on his knees before him. But that was blown out of the water when Race released him and backed away to the far wall.

  He slowly peeled his shirt off. To Laird's delight, Race caught his nipple rings between his fingers and tugged. The view of Race's muscular body, twitching with desire, and the way his head fell back, hair spilling over his shoulders, left Laird feeling like a runaway train. His heart raced. His cock pulsated with the beauty before him.

  Laird instantly leaped from the window and crawled on hands and knees across the space, wanting to wrap his lips around those wonderfully tortured peaks. But Race stopped him by lifting a foot gently into Laird's chest. A smile passed Laird's lips as he struggled around the foot and gripped Race by the shoulder. Together the two men wrestled around on the dusty floor. At one point Race had Laird pinned.

  "Come on, Laird," Race growled, leaning in to bite Laird on the shoulder. "How badly do you want it?"

  Laird's only reply was a grunt as he lurched upward.

  Race pinned him again, slid up his body, and pressed a pierced nipple into Laird's mouth. But before Laird could pick up suction, Race pulled away.

  This time Laird shoved upward and rolled them

  over, dust swirling lightly around them. He didn't care. He simply grabbed Race's shoulder, hefted him onto the floor, and took his pleasure; feeling those sterling silver sticks swirl over his tongue followed by the hard hotness of the nipple.

  "Laird!" Race shouted. "Shit."

  "Does that answer your question?"

  "I can't—damn—remember what my question was."

  Laird laughed and moved his mouth to the other

  nipple, relishing the cold metal in his hot mouth. He sucked on his lover's nipples, locking his teeth over the nipple rings and tugging.

  * * * *

  Race could feel each time his eyes rolled into his

  head. He knew if he didn't hurry, he'd make a mess in his pants. "Laird you're going to make…" his words trailed off into a groan. Even as his mind left his body to deal with the bliss, he fought with the front of his pants to get his penis o
ut. It was as if Laird could read his mind for his lover eased back while sucking on a finger. The wet finger was used to impale him while Laird twisted at his nipples with his free hand.

  "Shit!" Race swore, riding down against Laird's finger. He spun his hips, sliding his body up and down.

  He'd been with a few guys but none of them awakened such a primal surge within him. None of them left him feeling so thoroughly used. They hadn't known what to do with his piercings, but Laird did—Race gasped, feeling the digit slide out of him only to be slammed back in. Groaning, he grabbed Laird's belt and tugged. He ground his teeth at the wonderful pressure of having his hole invaded. He felt his orgasm coming as it built from his very core before curling his toes.

  Race was in heaven as he arched upward to watch

  through dazed eyes. His cock twitched then erupted without being touched. Spurt after spurt flew through the air and landed on the ground between his legs. He panted for air, loving the way Laird's long, thick finger navigated his hole.

  He whispered Laird's name, delirious, while shaking on the floor.

  Chapter Six

  "You did what?" Rajan called.

  "You heard him," Savaro laughed. "He met someone."

  "He's only been there a few days. How do you meet someone on your vacation in only a few days?"

  "Hey!" Xavier's voice hollered. It sounded far away, perhaps in another room. "Would you hooligans lower the volume? I'm trying to watch something here!"

  "Laird met a man!" Rajan called to his boyfriend.

  "He's telling us about it!"

  There was tumbling around on their end.

  Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Laird was tapping his forehead against the desk muttering, "Why? Why?

  Why?" It'd been a few days since he'd made love with Race. Once again, the two of them weren't talking about it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. He kept getting hot and cold from the sexy cowboy.

  "Okay, Laird. Talk to us," Xavier's voice came from over the phone.