Long Tall Drink (17 page)

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Authors: L. C. Chase

Tags: #LGBT Contemporary Western

BOOK: Long Tall Drink
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“Warm me up then,” Travis cajoled.

Ray stalked across the room, tossed the paraphernalia carelessly on the nightstand, and ripped the sheets from the bed. Goose bumps charged across Travis’s skin from the sudden shock of chill air, and then Ray climbed onto the bed and covered him with his scorching heat and heady scent. Travis grabbed him behind the neck and pulled him down for a hard, passionate kiss.

Strong hands moved reverently over his body, and fire burned a trail in their wake as their tongues dueled. And then a burning hand slid along the crease of his ass cheeks and over that one place so few had ever breached. Travis may have slept with a lot of men on his journeys, but he refused to bottom for one-nighters. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than accepting Ray inside his body, handing over the reins and trusting Ray to take him where he needed to go, to take and give what he wanted.

Ray teased at his opening while he kissed down Travis’s chest and took his cock in his mouth and sucked hard. Travis bucked from the bed with a restrained shout. He couldn’t take any more. He needed Ray. Needed him now. Blindly he pawed at the night table until his hand landed on the bottle of lube. He tossed it at Ray’s head and growled, “Now, dammit!”

“Bastard,” Ray muttered playfully as he paused his ministrations long enough to retrieve the bottle and slick up his fingers. Then he was back sucking on Travis’s cock and pushing one slippery finger inside. And it was like his entire body had suddenly been engulfed by raging wildfire.

Ray worked him with mouth and tongue and fingers until Travis felt like a writhing, mindless bundle of nerves. Every touch was an explosion that drove him that much closer to completely losing his mind.

And he wanted more.

“Fuck, Ray,” he keened through gritted teeth. “Fuck me.”

Ray released Travis’s cock from his mouth, pulled his fingers from Travis’s body, and Travis groaned in complaint at the loss. Ray stretched over him and fumbled for a condom, but hell, it was like the man was suddenly all thumbs and knocking them all to the floor.

“Christ, Ray,” Travis groaned. His body cried out to be filled, possessed. Right. Fucking. Now. “What are you? Sixteen?”

“Shut up.” Rapid breath fanned Travis’s heated skin in short, moist bursts. “My hands are so greased up it’s like I’m at a fucking rodeo pig scramble.”

Travis chuckled and reached over to grab a packet from the nightstand before Ray could knock them all off. Good thing Ray brought two boxes’ worth downstairs. He pushed Ray back and tore the wrapper open with his teeth. Then he deftly rolled the latex over Ray’s thick erection. Ray followed Travis’s hands with his lubed ones and slicked himself up. Finally sheathed and positioned at Travis’s hole, the blunt head of Ray’s cock pressed at him but didn’t move forward. The man was determined to drive him completely insane.

Travis looked up into Ray’s intense gaze, and in the bright light of the moon, he could see a war of concern and desire playing out in those dark, soulful eyes. Travis knew without asking or being told. This wasn’t just sex. This was the point of no return. Last chance, Charlie.

Even knowing that he had so much more to lose and was poised on the literal cusp of taking that risk, Ray wouldn’t move forward unless Travis also willingly accepted. Which made Travis want him all the more.

Travis nodded and whispered roughly, “I want you in me, Ray. I want to feel all of you.”

Ray lowered his head and claimed Travis’s mouth with a bruising kiss so full of passion and adoration, it wrapped around his heart and threaded into his very soul. And then Ray began to push inside, slow and deliberate. The stretch and burn caused Travis’s body to tense, and he broke the kiss, sucking in a sharp breath. It had been so long since he’d taken another man into his body, but he’d never wanted one as badly as this sexy rancher.

Ray stopped, and Travis knew how much control it was taking to hold himself suspended, allowing Travis’s body to relax and accept the beautiful invasion.

“Okay?” Ray asked, his forehead resting against Travis’s.

Travis nodded and gave his hips a little rock. Ray took the cue and continued in one long, steady stroke until he was fully seated. And he was deep. So. Fucking. Deep.

“Fuck, yeah,” Travis panted. Every nerve in his body shot rockets of fire through his system. “Come on, Ray. Ride me hard.”

Ray obeyed and began to thrust in, slow and measured at first, almost fully out and then all the way in, with such devotion Travis felt like his chest would explode from the sheer pleasure of it. Travis took himself in hand and pulled in long slow strokes, matching Ray’s pace.

“Sweet. Fucking. Mercy.” Ray groaned. “Oh God, Travis…”

Ray began to rock faster, harder, and Travis bucked his hips to meet each thrust, take him deeper. And then it was as if the levee broke, and Ray burst from his tightly held control in a tidal wave of lust and need and desire. He became a fathomless, swift-moving rapid that pulled Travis under as it flooded over him, into him. He was completely surrounded by Ray. Absorbed. Joined. One. Cleansed in a river of rapture. What he had been was gone. Now he was something new, something different—a part of another. And he never wanted to be anywhere else.

Keep me.

Ray’s pounding rhythm grew erratic, frantic, until he froze, impossibly deep, incredibly perfect, and Travis felt Ray begin to pulse inside. Then Ray roared out his name on a curse as he came, and Travis dived over the edge of the waterfall right behind him. Hot threads of exquisite release that went on forever painted his stomach in beautiful, abstract designs. Ray collapsed and rolled beside him, and the raging rapids emptied into peaceful hot springs that soothed his spent body.

Travis lay beside Ray in contented silence, staring up at the ceiling while his harsh, rapid breath and pounding heart gradually slowed. Ray’s shoulder pressed lightly against his—the only point of contact. It was such a small touch, but to Travis it was the world.

“If you cold-shoulder me again tomorrow, I’m going to kick your ass,” Travis teased but kept his gaze trained on the ceiling. He didn’t feel as light as his tone, knowing already he wouldn’t be able to handle Ray shutting him out again.

Travis felt Ray’s hand search his out in the dark, grasp it, and thread their fingers together, then give him a reassuring squeeze.

“Won’t happen,” he said in a self-depreciating tone. “I’m a stuck pig now.”

 

Even during that odd neither-here-nor-there moment when consciousness crept unrelentingly forward but hadn’t yet taken hold, Travis knew he was alone. It was one of those things people instinctively knew—some innate awareness of living energy. He didn’t need to turn around, didn’t need to open his eyes to know the space behind him was empty, the sheets cold where the heat of Ray’s body had been.

He swallowed back a wave of building apprehension that today would be a repeat of the past few. It wouldn’t, because if anything, Ray Ford was a man of his word.

Warm sheets pooled in his lap as he sat up and looked toward the window. He hadn’t drawn the curtains the night before, and soft, pink-hued light peeked through unfettered, letting him know the day was about to begin. The mouthwatering smell of maple bacon drifting under the door confirmed it. He ran his fingers through his hair and just as he was about to get up, the door opened slowly with a quiet creak. Yellow light from the hall spilled in to silhouette a familiar form in its frame.

“You’re up,” Ray said, his voice soft. He stepped into the room and gently closed the door.

“Morning,” Travis said in a sleep-roughened voice.

Ray stood by the door for a moment, in an apparent debate with himself. A large brown paper bag was clutched in his hand. Debate settled, he walked the few feet to the bed and sat on the edge with his back to Travis. Ray seemed uneasy, and a cold shiver raced across Travis’s bare skin.

Ray sighed and looked over his shoulder, meeting Travis’s gaze. Travis felt his body tense, preparing for the worst, but relaxed when Ray flashed a quick, sheepish smile. He angled his body toward Travis and looked down at the paper bag in his lap for another moment. Then Ray abruptly held the package out to him. Travis took it while watching Ray for an explanation, but the man just shook his head and turned away from him again. Whatever was in the bag, it was clear Ray was nervous about giving it to him.

Which only piqued his curiosity.

The bag wasn’t overly heavy nor hard edged, which told him there was material of some kind inside: clothing, most likely, too heavy to be a shirt but too light to be jeans. He carefully opened the bag and pulled out its contents. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at, had to stare at it a moment longer to be certain. His breath hitched, his mouth went dry, and his heart sped up. In his hands he held a brand-new pair of rich, chocolate brown suede show chaps, with matching fringe. The belt and side yokes were smooth tan leather with intricate flower filigree, and the matching leg trim was adorned with three silver moon conchas.

Travis ran his hand over the leather, butter soft and cool under his palm. His chest tightened. He should say something but couldn’t seem to find suitable words. He didn’t know why these chaps were even in his hands.

Ray cleared his throat but didn’t turn around when he spoke. His rough, melodic voice was almost a whisper. “I’d like you to have them.”

Have them
? Shock stalled Travis’s mind, a lump clogged in his throat, and his vision blurred inexplicably. No one had given him anything in so long, not anything that mattered. No one had cared enough. But these chaps, this beautiful gift—a gift from Ray—had suddenly become the most precious thing in the world. No matter what might come of this thing they’d started, Ray had touched him in a way he could never possibly forget.

He wanted to dive across the bed and wrap himself around Ray, hold on tight and kiss him, love him, never let go.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he managed to push through his constricted vocal chords.

“Nothing to say,” Ray said; his voice sounded equally tight. He shot another glance over his shoulder, and Travis had the impression there was something more Ray wanted to say, that he was right on the edge.

Say it. Ask me. Ask me to stay and I will. Please.

Travis searched his gaze for a long, imploring moment before Ray turned away with a nod, more to himself than Travis, and Travis swallowed back the tightening knot in his throat.

Ray stood up quickly and in a voice a bit too loud said, “Well. Breakfast is about ready.”

And with that the sexy rancher, his lover, was out the door without a backward glance.

Chapter Fifteen

 

Travis had the feeling he was being watched, which was confirmed when he turned around and locked eyes with Ray. The sun had reached its zenith, and the normally constant eastern winds were nearly absent, leaving the afternoon unusually warm. Or maybe he just felt warmer because he couldn’t stop thinking about Ray and replaying last night and this morning on his mental theater screen.

He’d long since taken off the borrowed jacket and rolled the sleeves of the borrowed shirt up to his elbows. Even though the shirt had been washed, the earthy essence of the sexy rancher lingered deep within its fibers. Something about Ray’s clothing covering his skin had kept him in a semierect state all day.

Diablo came up behind Ray and nudged his shoulder. Without breaking their silent, exchanged gaze, Ray scrubbed Diablo’s neck and inclined his head toward the barn in invitation.

Not wasting the time it would take to open the gate, Travis climbed the rails of the round pen and hopped down on the other side with eager anticipation. Ray copied his move and a beat later was striding away with Travis following, once again enjoying the view of that tight ass wrapped in snug jeans. The smooth rocking motion of broad shoulders as Ray walked—determined and deceivingly graceful—was mesmerizing.

Travis felt like there were springs in his boot heels as Ray led him to the barn, down the quiet hallway, and into the small tack room where they’d first kissed.

“Close the door,” Ray said in that rough, aphrodisiac voice.

Travis reached behind and closed it without taking his eyes off Ray. The heat in the man’s gaze, radiating off his strong body, was so fierce Travis could feel the hairs on his exposed forearms singe.

He wasn’t sure who moved first as the breath whooshed from his lungs, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the full length of Ray’s body pressed up against his, pinning him decisively between hard wood and hard flesh. What mattered was his cock now at full mast, straining against the zippered teeth of his jeans for escape. What mattered was Ray’s lips on his, the hot, clever tongue plunging into his mouth and strong hands that seemed to be everywhere at once—and his shirt somehow half off.

He’d never been so immediately and intensely aroused by any man before, never wanted one as badly as he wanted Ray Ford.

Travis dug his hands into Ray’s hips and tried to pull him in tighter, closer, as though he could merge their bodies into one as they rocked desperately against each other.

Ray groaned and broke the kiss, placed a hand on Travis’s chest, and pushed himself away to arm’s length. His breath came in short, rapid huffs that sent light bursts of cinnamon into the air. His eyes were dark with desire. Tiny flickers of amber fire burned around the edges of those liquid-chocolate irises.

“Not here,” Ray managed on a voice so low and raspy it sent a shiver up Travis’s spine. Ray collapsed his elbow and stepped back in, close enough to nip at the bare skin of Travis’s shoulder but far enough that his mouth and hand were the only points of contact.

Hyperaware of the burning weight of hand and sensual lips on oversensitive skin, Travis could barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. “House?”

Ray shook his head and laved the hollow at the base of Travis’s throat with a flat tongue. Travis moaned and latched his hands onto Ray’s upper arms for support. He felt like his eyes had rolled into the back of his head.

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