“Oh yeah,” Seamus groaned. He could see perfectly, thank you very fucking much. The view was as if he were lying underneath Chancey, with Chancey’s balls hanging down a couple of feet above his face. If he’d sat up, he’d have been able to take them both into his mouth and finger Chancey’s hole. He held that thought as Chancey’s balls started to swing in response to him working his cock with one hand, the other still holding the bottle that was getting Seamus’s blow job. If he hadn’t been so horny, he’d have been jealous. Of a bottle. Of the bottle that Chancey was no longer sucking… He brought it down between his legs and rubbed the neck against his balls, sliding it backwards, between his ass cheeks.
“Christ, Chance.” Seamus pumped his cock fast, hardly able to believe the show he was getting. Chancey gave him a leering smile and applied pressure to the base of the beer bottle, the top of which disappeared as it entered his ass. He adjusted his stance slightly, and Seamus got a prime view of Chancey impaling himself on the bottle, inch by glorious inch. Seamus gulped air like a drowning man. He wanted to feel it, the squeeze of Chancey’s tight anus as he nudged at it with the head of his cock, the triumph of feeling the tightness ease to grant him entry to Chancey’s body.
After a brief hiatus, Chancey gripped the end of the bottle and began pumping it. Seamus could barely tear his eyes away, but he did so long enough to locate his bath sponge. Poking his finger into one end, he tore a hole right through it, shoved his cock in and enclosed both sponge and cock in his palm. His gaze back on Chancey, he momentarily admired how the water and sweat sheened his dark skin, but his eyes were drawn downwards, to where Chancey was fighting to keep both hands moving in tandem, jerking off and fucking himself on the bottle.
“I’m comin’, Shay,” he panted. “Oh fuck…”
With the force of the bottle in his ass, Chancey’s cum arced through the air like water from a sprinkler, his continued cries of ecstasy enough to set Seamus’s second climax of the evening in motion. His entire body became rigid and he yanked at his cock, trying not to yell yes!
God, that sponge felt good, but it was a poor substitute for the man himself.
<<< >>>
“Paddy?”
“All right, ye big ole eejit? I swear ye only called me yesterday.”
“Aye. Listen. I need you to get married.”
“I am gettin’ married.”
“Like, right now. I need a reason to visit.”
“Right. You do? Or your willy does?”
“Both.”
Chapter Twenty:
Marking Time
In the damp, clammy truckers’ café that was the cabbage-picking crew’s regular Monday morning haunt, Seamus nursed his empty cup, his unfocused gaze falling somewhere within the spilled sugar granules scattered over the plastic tablecloth. His mind was away with the fairies, revisiting the Skype call with Chancey, from there meandering vaguely around ideas for Paddy’s stag night, back to Chance on-screen, to what was going on with Dee’s mother, to wondering if Chancey had meant it when he said no to meeting up, to the pond on Tina’s ranch, to the wedding, to Chance, to—
“Seamus!”
“Hm?” He shook himself out of it and turned to see who had shouted him. Feeney—one of the men who worked the mushroom sheds across the way from the cabbage field, and before that at Barry’s farm—was eyeing him suspiciously.
“Are you all right there, fella?” he asked loudly enough that every other man in the packed-out café heard him. They turned en masse to look at Seamus.
“Oh.” He laughed it off and lifted his empty cup. “I was thinkin’ it’s about time someone bought the tea.”
“I’ll get ’em,” Michael offered, already on his feet and heading for the counter; Seamus made a mental note to knock the cost off Michael’s keep at the end of the week. There was no way he could afford to buy nine cups of tea.
“Eh, Mike. Get us one of them chocolate-chip cookies while you’re there,” Tom shouted. Seamus slowly turned and glared at him. Tom shrugged and smirked. “He’s up there already. What’s the problem?”
The lad wasn’t to know he was the object of Michael’s affections. Even so, Seamus thought he had a nerve asking. “Get yer own cookie. You’re on better money than he is.”
“Aye, but he’s only goin’ to waste it on a plane ticket to America. I’ve got important things to buy.”
“Such as?”
“I’m saving up for me own car, so I am. Have ye seen the new Astra, Shay?”
“Can’t say I have, Thomas.”
“Oh, it’s a good-looking motor, and it’s like shit off a shovel.”
“Right.” Seamus wasn’t in the least bit interested in Tom’s new Astra. He wasn’t interested in cars at all, though he did miss his old pickup. He hadn’t gone quite so far as Chancey and given her a name, but she was a fine reliable little truck, and he wished…well, he wished lots of things were different, but he was still glad he’d come back to Ireland.
“You want a cookie, Seamus?” Michael asked from over by the counter.
“No, thanks, mate. I’ll come give ye a hand.” Seamus hauled himself to his full height, giving Tom the beady eye. “You’re paying for your own cookie, all right?” he told him.
Tom nodded in swift, nervous agreement. “Whatever you say, Seamus. Here.” He leaned to the side and extracted loose change from his pocket, handing over the lot. Seamus took it and lurched to the counter. He was feeling a bit on the rough side this morning, the effect of the cold, damp weather, having next to no sleep and…other things. Just the thought of what he’d spent most of Sunday—on and off—doing to himself in lieu of having Chancey do it to him…God, it was lucky no one could see what was going on his head.
“Are you not well, Seamus?” Michael asked. “Only you’re a bit…red in the face?”
“What’s that? Oh…I’m, er…it’s a bit too warm in here for me, young Michael. Nothing to worry about.” He gave Michael what he hoped was a smile of reassurance, although judging by his expression, Michael wasn’t in the least bit reassured. “Actually, you know, I don’t feel so grand.” Seamus turned to Feeney. “Can you let the boss know I’ve gone home?”
“Sure I can, Seamus. You get yourself tucked up in bed, son. I’ll sort these wasters out.”
“Thanks very much. I’ll see you tonight, all right, Mike?” With a friendly pat on the back for Michael and a warning glance to the rest of the lads to behave themselves, Seamus left the café and set off for the bus stop.
<<< >>>
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Morning, Chance.” Seamus couldn’t stop the smile forming at the sight that greeted him. Chancey was still in bed, all sleep-ruffled and drowsy.
“You know it’s five a.m. here?”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I wanted to catch you before you left for work.”
“I’m not complaining. Next best thing to waking up next to you.”
Seamus wasn’t the swooning type, but sometimes the things Chancey said turned him to mush. However, he fought against it, because he was on a mission. Much as he didn’t want to ask the question, because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t like the answer, for the good of his health—which right now wasn’t so good at all—he needed to know.
“Listen, Chance. I don’t want to…what I mean is…ah, hell.”
“Seamus Williams lost for words, huh? There’s somethin’ you don’t see every day.”
Seamus laughed self-consciously and sat back with his hands behind his head. “Right. I’m gonna say it, even though I feel like a clingy girl, but…” Seamus paused and took a deep breath, sat forward again, and continued, “You know you said you won’t meet up with me when I come over for our Paddy’s weddin’?”
“Yeah?”
“Were you just blowing air because of the situation? Only I do understand that you’ve got Dee to worry about. I…” Seamus sat on his hands to put a stop to his unconscious gesticulating. “What I’m trying to say is I’m fec
kin’ dying to see you, Chance. But if it’s not possible, then fine. I just need to know so I can get my head around it. D’you get me?”
“Yeah.” Chancey nodded, or sort of nodded. He was lying on his side, propping himself on one elbow. “There’s school, and junior rodeo, and a whole truck-full of other shit she does. Dancin’ and—”
“If I didn’t know better, Chancey Clearwater, I’d think you were fobbin’ me off.”
“I wish I was, Shay.” Throughout the conversation, Chancey had kept his voice low, presumably so he didn’t wake Dee, but now he was beyond quiet. Subdued. “I’m dyin’ to see you, too.”
“All right, so, we need solutions, then.” Seamus frowned, pondering a moment. “Over here the kids have a half-term holiday in October, but that’s this week. Don’t yours have something like that?”
“Thanksgiving? I think the teachers are training and the kids are out.” Chancey stretched, exposing his naked torso, and yawned. “I gotta get up.”
Seamus shook his head and chuckled. He was already well and truly up, but he was trying to ignore it in favour of getting the information he needed. He cleared his throat and focused on Chancey’s face, rather than his broad chest, fine stomach, the hand delving under the sheets. “So I, er, wondered, then, if, er…” He huffed and looked away. “Could you stop doing that? Just for a minute?”
Chancey gave a deep, low rumble of a laugh. Seamus closed one eye and peered at the screen to check it was safe to look again.
“It’s what you do to me, Shay.”
“Yeah, well, it works both ways, I can assure you.”
“You enjoy our evening at the pond?”
“I did, although you know glass bottles are a bit…fragile.”
“It was what I had on hand.”
“Perhaps you should get yourself a…something safer.”
“A dildo?”
“Well, yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”
“I’m game if you are.”
Seamus grinned mischievously.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“That’s for me to know. But anyway, let me just ask my question, will ye? Then you can go sort yourself out.”
“Sure. Shoot.”
Seamus raised an eyebrow. Chancey was laughing his head off.
“What I wanted to ask was, if Paddy and Aidan got married when your Dee’s off school, would you reconsider coming to meet me? Both of yous, I mean.”
That stopped the shenanigans going on under the sheets. “You want Dee there too?”
“She’s your wee girl. And we’re together now, remember?”
“OK?”
“So it’s not only about the two of us. Plus, I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of asking Paddy if he could accommodate two more guests. He said he can’t wait to meet you.”
“He said that?”
“He did.”
Chancey nodded slowly and rubbed his chin, the rasping against coarse whiskers audible at Seamus’s end of the connection and doing little to ease the desire building in his groin. Finally, Chancey nodded. “I’d consider it.”
That’s all Seamus needed to hear. Suddenly the nausea was gone, and he felt the tension leave his neck and shoulders. Not a definite yes, but a firm maybe. He could live with that. “That’s grand,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-One:
Kansas State Junior Rodeo
He’d received the invitation in the mail. Obviously it was a firm male hand that had addressed the inner envelope. Chancey Clearwater plus guest. The guest in question was currently lying on the living room floor with her bare feet up on the couch, holding her notebook over her head and writing in pencil.
“How do you do your homework that way?” Chancey asked Dee.
“Dunno.”
“You’ve always been multi-talented. I couldn’t even do my homework sitting right side up at the table.”
Dee barely glanced over at him. She’d been moodier than ever, and he thought he might have an idea why. There was a message on their answering machine from her mother. It started off pretty much the same way all Kaylee Starr messages did. She was sorry for being selfish, but Dee and Chancey really needed to understand how hard things were for her, and that she wasn’t in the wrong, and could they just be patient with her, and didn’t they want her happiness, and then things veered off onto For God’s Sakes, Kaylee Highway.
I thought I’d make it up to you, Dee. So, me and the whole band, we’re comin’ out to see you in Emporia. It’s gonna be great! We’ll play a bit, do pictures with all the junior rodeo finalists, cater the event, and it’ll be like a free concert for everyone. What do you say?
“She’s kidding, right?” Dee had exclaimed as she listened, a horrified look marring her expression. Her words mirrored Chancey’s inner thoughts exactly.
If her mother wanted to don a hat and a pair of sunglasses and come to the Kansas Junior Rodeo finals incognito to support Dee and Stills, that was one thing. But bringing her band? Making a whole production of it? It was selfish bullshit, especially when this was the last year the girls would compete in their age bracket.
“Might as well not even go. I’m not going to be able to concentrate, and no one’s going to be watchin’ me anyway.”
“I’ll be watching you, darlin’.”
That had got him the smallest of smiles before it disappeared.
Chancey was barely able to control his rage at his selfish ex-wife.
“You wanna go driving?”
Dee glanced over at him. He’d got her attention.
“You’ll let me drive?”
“Yep.”
“On the roads?”
“Let’s see how you’re doing on the property first.”
Dee tossed the notebook aside and sat up quickly, a smile blossoming on her face.
<<< >>>
“So how do you feel about Pennsylvania?” Chancey asked cautiously as Dee took Layla on her seventieth trip down the bumpy dirt road. She’d handled the truck well the first sixty-five or so times, monitoring her speed, watching out for the low-hanging branches, and otherwise manoeuvring with grace and deftness around their property. Now Dee was speeding and being more reckless, cheering at the bumps, and taking the turns a little too sharply. It was the same way Chancey drove. But Chancey had thirty-plus years of driving experience under his belt, and he was confident he could control Layla on all roads and in all conditions. “You wanna slow it down there, speed demon?”
Dee cast him an exasperated look.
“Unless you want me to drive us back to the house?”
Reluctantly she eased off the gas.
“So? Pennsylvania?”
“Whadaya mean, Pennsylvania? It’s a state. It’s probably cold there. I don’t feel anything about it.”
“We’ve been invited to a wedding.”
“Momma’s?” she asked.
“No.” The word came out clipped, tight. Damn Kaylee. “Um, it’s a brother of a friend, actually.”
“Who?”
“Seamus Williams.”
“Seamus is getting married?”
“His brother is…” Chancey looked over at his daughter as she steered the truck into the open field. “And about that, Dee. Shay says you sent him a message. On Facebook.”
Dee’s cheeks burst into warm colour, and she reached up, nervously fiddling with a pimple on her chin.
“Uh…what did he say I said?”
“That you were upset Tina kissed me.”
“Yeah. Well, I was.”
“Why the hell would you message a grown man you met only the one time about my non-existent love life?”
“It’s just…you guys are…friends…”
She dropped her hand back to the steering wheel, and he reminded her again to ease up on the gas.
“It makes me uncomfortable that you would privately message an adult, Deidra.”
“Sorry.” Her voice was a tiny thing in the rumble of the massive truc
k’s engine. “I was just…worried. And I know you know him.”
“Right,” Chancey agreed. “And Seamus is good people—a good…friend, but please don’t do it again.”
“Won’t,” she muttered.
“And Pennsylvania?”
She shrugged one shoulder and, at the fork in the road that would take them on their circuit again or back to the house, she chose the path that led home.
Charlene Stills and her daughter were waiting at the front door when they drove up, and what a sight the pair made. Mrs. Stills looked like she was ready for a pageant, in her sequinned emerald gown and tightly curled ’do, while Stills the Younger stood nearby in her dirty boots, dirty jeans, and dirty gingham button-down shirt. They were her practice clothes.
“Hi, y’all!” Mrs. Stills said brightly, throwing an arm over her daughter’s shoulders. Well… almost. Charlene actually let her bare arm hover about half an inch off the dirty fabric. Quinn Stills awkwardly waved at both of them.
“Afternoon, Stillses. D’you think the girls are ready for Emporia, Coach?”
Charlene considered the question for a moment and then nodded. “I think so. Their roping has been phenomenal of late, and Dee cut another half a second off her time.”
Chancey turned to Dee to compliment her, but she continued to walk towards the house without glancing at him.
“Darlin’, you didn’t say anything about that.”
Dee shrugged.
“So what can we do for you? Do you want to come in? Er, freshen up?”
Mrs. Stills smiled. “No, that’s all right, we can’t stay but a minute. I’m off to a charity dinner and then Quinn is going down to the Anderson Orchard to put in a couple hours of work.”
“Black tie’s not really my thing,” Stills explained flatly. “And we’re resting the horses, so no more practice for the moment.”
“But I did have a question—two really,” Charlene said.
“Shoot,” Chancey offered, leaning against the porch railing. Weird that they had shown up to ask a couple of questions when the phone worked just as well. Then again, they’d been out. Maybe the Clearwater house was on the way.
Seeds of Tyrone Box Set Page 35