“My feckin’ luck.”
Aidan just stared, but the Williams Brothers burst out laughing. “You said she had a mouth on ’er, Shay.”
Jesus, kid. But this time, Chancey let his grin creep out. It was pretty funny.
Aidan invited them in, showing them around the warm, cosy home. True to Patrick’s word, there was a nursery set up next to the adult guest room. It had all the necessities—a crib, changing table, and rocking chair with blankie. Chancey melted a little at the gentle smile that spread across Seamus’s face when he saw it. Back in the living room, Aidan said, “Trying to decide what to do for tonight. I think Dee should pick the activities.”
“Do you guys have Netflix?”
“Netflix?” Patrick moaned. “A whole city to explore and you want to stay in and watch television?”
“Well, there’s this show I like, and they just released season two and…maybe we could binge watch it together?”
“What is it?” Aidan asked
“Haunted Avery.”
Patrick exchanged a look with his brother. “We could do that,” he agreed. “I’ll make dinner. Introduce you to mushy peas?”
“Mooshy?” Dee and Aidan repeated together, looked at each other, and absolutely beamed.
“So, we’re doing a night in, then?” Chancey asked, trying not to sound too disappointed. If they went out, there was opportunity to steal a few minutes alone with Seamus—possibly. In a living room full of people, watching the drama his daughter loved about a teenaged ghost girl, that wasn’t possible.
The room turned towards him, four pairs of eyes on his face. Chancey wasn’t usually a blusher, but the weight of their combined stares made him a bit flushed.
“Daddy,” Dee said, flopping down on Aidan and Patrick’s couch like she already belonged. “Don’t you wanna go out with Shay?”
More than anything in the whole damn world. “Haunted Avery sounds fun, darlin’.”
Dee raised her eyebrow. With that sceptical look on her face, and the little frown, she was the spitting image of her mother. “C’mon, we all know you guys want to go make out or whatever. We’ll be fine. Have fun.”
Aidan could barely keep a straight face, and Patrick didn’t bother to hold back his laughter. “The lass has the two of you sussed. Get out of here. Enjoy reconnecting.”
Chapter Twenty-Six:
A Funny Thing Happened…
“Hello, me ole girl.” Seamus fondly patted the side of his pickup truck, parked—or dumped, really—exactly where Paddy had said it would be, at the back of their extensive yard. Unfortunately, it was directly under a tree and had been there for some time; Seamus grimaced and tried to wipe the sticky sap from his palm. “Get in, Chance.”
Chancey did as instructed, Seamus joining him a second later, still rubbing at his palm. He spat on his hand and attempted to transfer the sap to the leg of his jeans. Chancey looked on, one eyebrow raised, along with the corresponding corner of his mouth. That damn-sexy lopsided smile of his—wasn’t that where it all began? One lonesome, drunken night… Seamus cleared his throat, along with the regret from his mind.
“All right, so. Thoughts?”
“Did you know about this?”
“About?”
“Their plan to kick us to the kerb.”
Seamus laughed. “No. I didn’t, but I’m not complainin’. Are you?”
“Hell, no. You wanna go for a beer?”
“Beer?” Seamus frowned, perplexed by the question, because they were way past it being as simple as it sounded. He volleyed back to Chancey. “Do you?”
Nonchalant as anything, Chancey pulled his tobacco tin from his pocket and started rolling a cigarette. Years of practice made him deft—paper laid flat, a sprinkling of golden-brown flakes, lift, roll between forefingers and thumbs, and then he licked the gummed edge, slow, slow, slow… “OK to smoke in here?”
Seamus nodded dumbly, transfixed by the killer routine he’d seen Chancey perform hundreds of times before. Window down, click, flicker of flame, click, long, deep draw in, long, sighed blue stream out.
Seamus started the engine and rammed the truck into reverse, peering back over his shoulder as he said, “You smoke like you suck dick.” He slammed on the brake, shifted to drive and turned to face front again. A hand landed on his thigh, and he gasped, like he was some kind of love-struck teenager, sweating, shaking, trying to fend off the instant arousal. His cock, half-mast since Chancey had walked through the arrival gate at the airport, was now rock solid and painfully constricted by his already tight jeans. Seamus pulled out onto the road and hung a left, down the intersection, no idea where he was going.
Chancey took another deep drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the window, at the same time shifting his hand further up Seamus’s thigh.
“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Seamus warned.
Another inch upwards. Chancey sucked his teeth.
“Really.” Seamus tried to laugh it off and then pulled back in his seat. “I’ll come in my pants, and it’ll make a hell of a mess—that’s if I don’t end up crashing the truck.”
Chancey moved his hand, still on Seamus’s thigh, but to a safer distance. He kneaded gently, sensually, too-fucking-skilfully. “It’s one of the good things about being old.”
“Jeez. What’re you on? You’re not old.”
“OK. I’m not old old, and it ain’t all bad. I got staying power.”
“Is that a challenge, Chancey Clearwater?”
“If you want it to be.”
“Hotel,” Seamus said. He turned left at the next intersection and pointed across the street to a big, modern hotel. It wasn’t the cheapest, he knew, but it was the closest, and to hell with the cost anyway.
Chancey threw his spent cigarette out of the window. “Guess I won’t be seeing much of the city, huh?”
“We can do that later.”
Seamus swerved the pickup into the hotel’s parking garage, slowing only to clear the tight headroom before gunning it into the first empty space. The two of them bolted from the cab, to the hotel lobby, where the demure young woman on the reception desk eyed them suspiciously.
“Sorry, sir, but we have no rooms—”
“It was booked a few weeks back, on the Max Fitness account?”
“One moment, sir.” She clicked at her computer mouse and scrolled, squinting at the screen. “Mr. Williams?”
“Aye, that’s me.”
“My apologies, sir.”
Seamus gave her a quick smile and watched her programme the key card, all the while aware of Chancey’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t know what Paddy and Dee had planned. Seamus had asked Paddy to book him a room weeks ago, but then he’d brought Michael, and they were both staying at the house.
The receptionist passed over a form and the key card; Seamus signed where indicated, handed the form back and took the key card, beckoning to Chancey to follow. The lift arrived at the same time they did, and they stepped inside. Seamus hit the button for their floor. The doors slid shut. In his peripheral vision, Seamus saw Chancey bend one leg and rest his booted foot against the wall behind him.
“Shay?”
“Yeah?” He looked up.
“You just happened to have a room booked?”
“Unbelievable, isn’t it? Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind, with Dee being here. I figured we’d grab a moment sometime.”
Chancey nodded in acceptance of the explanation. He fished in his pocket for gum, offering a stick to Seamus. “I brought supplies,” he said. “You clean?”
“Unless you can catch a virus from cyberin’?”
Chancey nodded again and flipped the gum into the air, caught it and started to chew, mouth open, his eyes on Seamus, who could stand it no longer. In one stride he cleared the space between them and slammed his lips against Chancey’s. The lift slowed; the bell dinged.
Doors opening.
“Bareback?” Seamus asked.
“Bareback,” Chancey confirmed, following Seamus along the corridor, both trying to stroll casually, taking in the signs directing them to their room. Around a corner, another corner…
“Here.” Seamus slid the card through the slot and pushed the door open, inhaling the hotel-room smell, waiting for the feeling of being involved in something illicit, but it didn’t come. The door quietly clicked closed behind him, and he turned back, a shiver quaking his entire being as the realisation hit him full in the chest. Chancey grabbed him by his shirt front and hauled him in.
“I missed you,” he murmured as their lips met again, hands fumbling, trying to unfasten each other’s buttons, tangling, banging together.
“I missed you too,” Seamus replied, his voice coming back at him on Chancey’s breath. Seamus’s shirt fell to the floor, Chancey’s remained half on, half off, stopped by bent arms and roaming hands, palms spanning Seamus’s back and drawing him closer until they were chest to chest and seconds away from descending into wanton chaos. Chancey let his hands drop, hooking his thumbs into the back of Seamus’s waistband and grinding against him, thick denim shielding him from some of the incredible yet unbearable sensation. Chancey’s cock was an iron bar, jabbing and poking, and with each thrust it pushed Seamus closer to the edge.
“I’ve got about a minute in me, if that,” Seamus said breathlessly, his voice distorted by Chancey’s hold on his lower lip. “Oh my god, Chance.” Seamus opened his mouth and consumed Chancey, scrabbling to unfasten Chancey’s belt buckle and popping the worn buttons of his fly. His fingers made contact with coarse, wiry hair, and he smiled at the absence of underpants. He tugged down the front of Chancey’s jeans so that his cock and balls were on display, a groan escaping as he took in the sight.
“I was maybe being a little optimistic there. Thirty seconds, at a push,” Seamus said, trying to make light of what he knew would be an embarrassingly short fuse. A year was a long time, and Chancey was the same hot-as-hell cowboy now as he had been then. Absence had made everything grow fonder. “Can we—” Seamus began, but got no further, interrupted by Chancey walking into him and then using his body to steer Seamus backwards across the room, at the same time unfastening Seamus’s jeans with ease so that when Chancey pushed him down onto the bed he was able to whip them off in an instant.
“I need you inside me, Shay.”
Seamus shook his head. “You go first.”
Chancey opened his mouth to protest, and Seamus quickly sat up, his mouth lining up perfectly with Chancey’s cock. Grabbing him by the buttocks, Seamus sucked hard, drawing his lips back to the tip and circling with his tongue, lost to the taste and smell, immediately so familiar it were as if they had been doing this for real for the past however many months instead of through a computer screen.
Chancey’s fingers slid into Seamus’s hair, massaging his scalp and holding his head steady as Chancey began to thrust, pushing deeper into Seamus’s throat. Seamus gripped the top of Chancey’s jeans and shoved them down to his knees before working his way back up his inner thighs, the vision in his mind of Chancey fucking himself with the beer bottle. He wanted to be inside Chancey, but he was too sober to last out in the state he was in. He pulled off, releasing Chancey’s cock and wrapping his hand around it instead, keeping the speed as he peered up at Chancey’s furnace-heated expression, receiving a nod of agreement.
While Chancey removed his jeans and boots, Seamus turned around and crawled up the bed, remaining on his knees and fighting the urge to touch his cock. Chancey crawled up the bed behind him, his fingers outstretched and already slick, slipping down Seamus’s crack and seeking out his hole. If Chancey had wanted to go for it, no preparation, Seamus wouldn’t have cared, but that wasn’t how Chancey operated. He like to play, enjoyed the build-up, and he was good at it. Seamus swayed back onto Chancey’s fingers, forcing them deeper, trying not to say the words that were there in his head, on his tongue, fighting the get out.
“Just fuck me, Chance, for Christ’s sake.” Shite.
A quick exchange of fingers for cock, and Chancey pushed, pushed, pushed, quickly finding his rhythm. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to Seamus’s back, one hand holding Seamus’s shoulder, the other finding his cock and squeezing the base to try and give Seamus a little more time.
If Seamus could’ve found the words, he’d have thanked Chancey for being considerate, but he was overwhelmed by the mixed sensations of relief, at being here with Chancey’s cock filling him, and the urge to come, at the same time wanting to hold out and aim for the elusive joint orgasm.
“Shay, you feel so damn good. I’ve never wanted anyone this much.” Chancey panted between the words, stepping up his speed and the intensity of the thrusting. Seamus grunted, unintentionally, and considered apologising—for all of half a second.
“I can’t hold out, Chance. I can’t, I…”
Chancey’s hand moved up Seamus’s cock and pumped it faster, his grip unyielding as Seamus cried out, vaguely aware of Chancey’s fingers biting into his shoulder and the few last thrusts, hard, deep, followed by a hissed expulsion of, “Jesus!” as Chancey ejaculated his load inside Seamus and collapsed, panting and spent, onto him, pushing him face-down into the mattress.
“Sweet Jesus,” Chancey whispered against Seamus’s shoulder, his cock now partway in and twitching in post-orgasm. “Your turn next,” he said.
Seamus turned his head and sighed in contentment, his eyes closed. “Give me five minutes, and I’m all yours.”
Chancey chuckled and murmured sleepily, “One of the good things about being young.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Rope ’im
“Holy hell,” Chancey groaned as Seamus pulled out, leaving him a mess of cum and sweat. He practically collapsed, but managed to weakly raise his head and caught sight of himself in the dresser mirror. They’d been screwing against it—Seamus practically lifting Chancey up off the floor with his thrusts, Chancey’s half-hard cock hitting the polished wood. They watched each other in the mirror, eyes locked like they had done these last few months through the computer monitor, except no screen separated them now. “Can’t believe that’s only our fourth time.”
“What do you call all those Skype chats?” Seamus asked, collapsing onto the bed. His sated cock flopped in a wickedly endearing way, and Chancey pushed off the dresser and climbed up next to him.
“I call it foreplay.”
Seamus turned his head and smiled. “You end me, you know that?”
“Sounds bad, Williams, being ‘ended’ by someone.”
“Not if it’s you. You can end me and resurrect me and fuck me and do it all over again for eternity.”
“What if I want to kiss you?”
“Well, I imagine that would fall under all three. So I think it’s allowed.”
“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you all night.”
“I’m waitin’ to hear the hardship here, Chance.”
“Would you think less of me, Shay? If I asked you to hold me for a while.”
Seamus’s hazel eyes were serious, considering what Chancey was saying. “Never.”
Seamus moved, creating a crook for Chancey to roll into. It didn’t need discussing, but he thought Seamus understood even without the explanation. He’d spent his life as the rough-and-tumble cowboy. Raising Dee had softened him, sure, but there wasn’t any place for gentle kindness when you were herding cattle away from an approaching storm that chucked baseball-sized hail. His life had been roping, riding, taking Dee to dance and rodeo practice, and otherwise being one helluva loner. Chancey hadn’t even known he’d wanted to be held until this moment.
He pressed into Seamus’s side, breathed in the scent of their mingled sweat and the tide of sex, bent his head slightly to kiss a nipple, and then settled.
“How long do we have?” Seamus murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Before you have to go back?”
“Don’t want to think about it. Don’t want to talk about it. Just need to feel each other as much as we can before…” it’s over.
<<< >>>
After a long nap and a call down to room service for a couple of sandwiches, Chancey lured Seamus into the bath.
“It’s a Jacuzzi tub,” he tempted with a wicked smile.
“That does sound mighty fine.”
They sat opposite each other, Chancey’s legs draped over Seamus’s, the bubbles going full blast, the heat easing whatever tension hadn’t been kneaded away during those incredible orgasms. Chancey spread his arms out along the back of the tub and sank lower. He let his eyes slowly close as he felt along Seamus’s hard side with his foot.
“You remember I said I brought supplies? I didn’t just mean condoms.” Chancey tried to keep his voice calm, almost to the point of nonchalance. Seamus raised a dark brow and Chancey’s cock twitched longingly. “Aye? Wouldn’t happen to be another bottle would it?”
“Mmn.” He let his foot trail across Seamus’s belly, tracing the belly button with his big toe, before dipping lower. It made Chancey crazy how hard Seamus was. Hard for him.
“Not so much that. But…How do you feel about… being completely in control?”
Chancey opened his eyes very slowly, and could have come from the look in Seamus’s eyes.
<<< >>>
“You sure you’re fine with this, then?” Seamus asked. “Do we need some sort of, I don’t know? A safe word?”
“A safe word?” Chancey repeated, looking up at the place where Seamus had bound his wrists together and wrapped the restraints around the bedpost.
“Banana or dachshund or something?”
“How about I just say ‘hey, Shay, you big oaf, untie my damn hands’?”
“That’ll work.”
“I won’t, though,” he promised with a wink.
Seamus shivered visibly, his pleasure evident. “And you say I’m the one in control here?”
He didn’t tell Seamus that Kaylee had wanted to do this before—tie him up—but it was late in their marriage, and he really hadn’t trusted her not to leave him tied, so he’d never agreed. On the one hand, he liked telling Seamus about the things that were their experiences alone, but on the other, he wasn’t going to risk anything by bringing up the name of Kaylee Starr.
Seeds of Tyrone Box Set Page 39