by Lynn Lorenz
Mitchell inhaled deeply. “Those smell great, babe.”
“Sure do. The whole meal was great, Sammi,” Brian said. “You’re really picking up a lot working with Otis at The Grill.”
Sammi transferred the rolls to a plate then brought it to the table. “Otis has been good to me.” He nodded. “I’m learning so much from him. By the time I actually go to culinary school this fall, I won’t be so clueless.”
Mitchell wrapped an arm around Sammi’s waist and pulled him close. “You’re not clueless, just inexperienced, babe.”
Sammi leaned in and kissed Mitchell. Their eyes closed, and Brian wondered what feelings and thoughts had passed between the two lovers. Their kiss deepened.
“Hey, guys, get a room!” Brian laughed, happy that his best friend had found someone to love and spend his life with. Now, if Brian could just do the same, the world would be perfect, like those rolls Sammi had just made. Brian snatched one up and placed it on his plate.
It had been almost a week since he’d met Rush Weston and every night, he’d jerked off to the memory of the man. He’d even printed out his favorite photo of Rush and left it on his night table, in case he needed it. So far, his memory had served him just fine.
“Call him,” Sammi said, not letting it drop. “I know you want to.”
“I will.” Brian couldn’t lie—at this close range, Sammi could read his thoughts.
“When?” Mitchell pressed as he bit into his roll.
“Tonight. I swear.” Brian took a gulp of coffee to wash down a bite of dessert.
How Rush could have been interested in him, smelling as bad as he did, was a wonder to Brian. Good Lord, the cowboy was Brian’s dream man, big, built and blond. At six two, Brian was taller than average, but Rush had to be six three or four. Even though Brian was a handsome man and usually immaculately dressed, he’d definitively not been at his best that night.
“You promise?” Mitchell pushed.
“I promise. What the hell? Why not? Other than my pride, I don’t have much to lose.” Brian shrugged.
“Maybe you’ll change your life.” Sammi gave Brian a knowing smile, making Brian wonder if Sammi’s powers were greater than he’d thought.
“Look, Sammi, I wanted to let you know. I have some free time now and I’m going to start working on your case.” Brian looked into the young man’s eyes and watched as hope rose in them.
“Really? You’re going to try to find out who I am? That’s great.” Sammi clutched Mitchell’s hand.
“Thanks, Brian. If we can’t get Sammi a last name and social security number, his plans for college will never get off the ground,” Mitchell said.
“I want to pay you.” Sammi sat straighter. “I’m making some money now, and I don’t want you to do this for free.”
“It’s not necessary.” Brian tried to wave him away.
“It is. I insist.” Sammi’s jaw was set, and Brian could see he meant it.
“Okay. My rate is twenty bucks an hour, plus expenses.” Brian rattled off the number, roughly one-third of his normal price, but Sammi didn’t know that. Mitchell did, and he flicked his eyes to Brian’s as one eyebrow rose.
“It’s a deal. Just let me know how much as you go, so I can budget for it.” Sammi nodded.
“I just need some info to get started with,” Brian said as he took out his BlackBerry. “Do you remember anything from any of your foster parents or where you lived?”
“I had so many I can’t remember them all, and most of them I wanted to forget. I’ve always been in Houston, as far as I know. When I ran away, they were Don and Jan Ranks, I think, because when I went to school I used their name. But it was a long time ago. Once I got on the streets, I just used Sammi. By the time I fell in with Donovan, I’d forgotten so much from when I was little. Guess I blocked most of it out.” Sammi frowned—his dark eyes seemed lost and sad, like those of a kid. At twenty-three, he was part man, part youth, but Brian couldn’t deny that Sammi was definitely all sexy.
At the mention of Donovan’s name, Mitchell growled. Brian could see the anger in his best friend’s eyes. Donovan had run a sex slave ring, and Sammi had been his prize possession until he’d escaped, met Mitchell in a bar, and they’d fallen in love.
Brian had helped Mitchell rescue Sammi and now they were helping him rebuild his life, and that included finding out his real name. Brian couldn’t imagine what it must be like not knowing who he was nor could he imagine what a horror Sammi’s life must have been, but he was determined to do whatever it took to find out the truth.
Chapter Three
Brian stepped from the shower, grabbed a towel and rubbed himself dry. With it slung over his shoulders, he brushed his teeth and gazed into his reflection.
“You’re a big coward, Russell.”
His reflection nodded back. Cowardice was new to him. This reticence about calling Rush was so unlike him. Usually, he leaped into relationships without looking, opened his heart to love that had led ultimately to the breaking of said heart.
There was something monumental about the way he felt about Rush. Something that said if he screwed this one up, he was just a loser, destined to being alone. His premonition about that night changing his life had him spooked like never before.
Even as a kid, when he’d had those flashes of insight, they hadn’t scared him. He just knew they would come true. No reason to question it, it just was…like breathing.
As Brian had grown up that nonchalance about his power had turned to uncertainty. Why him? What was he supposed to do about it, be some sort of superhero? Go around saving people?
He’d always wanted to be a cop and use this heightened perception to help people, but the sultry summer he’d turned fifteen, he’d kissed a boy his age and confirmed the whispering fear that he was gay.
At the time, gay cops weren’t de rigueur, so even though he’d taken law enforcement courses, he’d majored in civil engineering at the University of Texas and forgot about a career as a cop.
As for love, each of Brian’s two lovers had broken his heart then moved on. From the first time he’d fallen in unrequited love, to the loss of his virginity to an older man who’d wooed him, fucked him then dumped him, the pain he’d felt seemed magnified each time his heart had been broken. Undaunted, he’d kept his hopes up and his heart open and believed one day he’d find the perfect man.
And he had. He would never forget the first time he’d seen Steve. Brian had fallen for him in a single moment. Steve had been tall, blond, well-built and so sexy.
And he belonged to Brian’s best friend, Mitchell.
Mitchell loved Steve and Steve loved Mitchell. Brian loved Steve and Brian loved Mitchell more than a brother. No way on earth would he ever betray Mitchell. So Brian had never said a word for the two and a half years Steve had lived with Mitchell.
Then, one rainy night on the interstate, Steve had a flat tire. As he’d been getting the tire out of the trunk, a drunk driver slammed into the car, tearing Steve’s body in two as if he were a rag doll.
Mitchell had been devastated.
Brian had been there for him, while suffering his own numbing loss of a love he’d never known for a man who’d never touched him other than a handshake or a slap on the back.
During the years between then and now, Brian had developed a modest interest in a few men, but nothing lasting had ever come of it. At the advanced age of thirty-three, Brian had had exactly four lovers, and none of them had been The One.
Rush was The One.
Brian was as sure of it as he was the color of his own eyes, that he hated snakes, and that he’d never have to register his guns in Texas. If he blew this, it was over. There would be no more chances for a life lived and spent with one man. It was a terrifying thought, to spend his life alone and unloved.
There was no choice but to open his heart and take a chance.
He dropped his towel into the hamper then went to his dresser, opened his wallet and took out the c
ard.
Rush Weston, The Double T Ranch.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Brian glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. Was it too late to call the ranch? Didn’t cowboys go to bed with the chickens and get up with the rooster? No, these days they had cable and satellite TV.
He picked up his cell phone, flipped the card over and punched the number in.
After the fourth ring, a deep voice answered, “Hello?”
Brian’s stomach did that flip thing. “Is this Rush Weston?”
“It is.”
“This is Brian Russell.” Brian took a breath. “The guy in the alley Friday night.” He winced. At least he hadn’t described himself as the man covered in garbage.
“The PI?” Rush’s voice rose just a hair.
Brian’s stomach flipped again. Shit, he needed to bring that under control. He was like a kid with a crush. “That’s me.” Great comeback, Russell.
“Did you catch the outlaws?”
“I did. Well, the cops caught them. I just got the evidence.”
There was a long stretch of silence. Brian could hear Rush breathing on the other end of the line. His rebellious stomach dropped. That was it. They’d run out of conversation in the first two minutes.
“I didn’t think you were going to call,” Rush said in a husky breath.
“I should have called sooner. Sorry.” Did he need to tell Rush what a coward he’d been and that he’d needed to work up the nerve to call him?
“Been thinkin’ ’bout you.” Rush’s voice lowered, as if it could go any deeper.
“Me, too.” Shit. That was lame. “Every night.”
He heard the cowboy’s long exhale. Was he smoking? Just the memory of Rush smoking that cigarette sent shivers down his spine.
“Same here.” Rush was not a man of many words, it seemed.
Brian would have to be the one to get things started. He settled back against the headboard of his bed, his semi-erect cock lying along his thigh and let out a breath, right into the phone.
“Are you in bed? Did I wake you?” He softened his voice.
“I’m in bed, couldn’t sleep.”
“Thinking about me?” Brian let his voice drop lower.
“Yep.” There was a hint of a smile behind that one word.
Brian took a breath, closed his eyes and jumped. “Shit. Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you, Rush?”
Another long exhale. “’Bout as many times as I’ve whacked off thinking of you.”
Brain laughed softly. “And tonight?”
“Not yet. You?”
“Just about to. Care to join me?”
“Dang it, Brian. You sure know what to say to get a man hard.”
“I’m glad.” Brian gathered his cock in his hand and gave it a stroke. “Are you touching your cock?”
“Ever since I knew it was you.”
Shit. Brian tugged harder, his shaft thickening. “I wanted you that night. Thought about fucking you in that alley, but…”
“Not the right time, was it?”
“No. Next time we meet, I’ll make sure I smell better.”
“You’d get all cleaned up just for me?”
“Just for you. Did you want…?” Brian hated to sound needy, but he had to know if Rush had wanted him that night, too.
“If Mike hadn’t come out and got me, I might not have let a little thing like the way you smelled stop me.”
“Mike? Is he your lover?” Brian felt sick. Of course, a guy like Rush probably had a lover, maybe several.
“No, just a friend. He tried to hook me up with this friend of his that night.”
“John? The guy in a snit?”
“You remembered?”
“I spent a long night wondering what you were doing to John that you could have been doing to me.” Brian’s vivid imagination had tortured him that night.
“I was going to go home with him, but after seeing you, well, I have to admit, he paled in comparison.”
“Are you saying I’ve spoiled you for other men?” Brian felt a quiet thrill.
“Something like that.” Rush chuckled.
“You cowboys say the sweetest things.”
“Better than telling you that you smelled like a skunk,” he said. “Sorry about that, but you had me twisted up in my ropes.”
“I did smell like a skunk. Not now. Just got out the shower.”
“Naked as a jaybird and twice as sassy?”
“Definitely naked. Sassy? I’m not so sure.”
“Got a hard-on for you, Brian. Need some fucking relief, darlin’.”
“That night, I thought about doing you in my car.”
“Tell me.”
“We’d go to my car and get in the front seat. At first, we’d just stare at each other, letting the fire burn between us like it did in the alley.”
“You felt that, too?”
“I felt it, and I’m damn glad to know you did, too. So, you reach over, put your hand around my neck, and pull me in for a kiss.”
“Are you a good kisser?”
“Want to find out?”
“Can’t wait to find out how you taste on my tongue. Do you like to use your tongue?” Rush growled.
Brian’s balls tightened, and he squeezed his shaft tighter. “Oh, yeah. I’d like to use my tongue on your dick.”
A deep breath, followed by a long exhale. “So, after we kiss, then what?”
“Then, I’d unbutton your jeans. I figure you for a button-fly man.”
“Real cowboys only wear button-flies.”
“And you’re a real cowboy?”
“Damn straight. Got the horse and the six-shooter to prove it.”
Brian loved the way the cowboy drawled his words. It sent a shiver of desire straight through him. “So, I’d flick open those buttons, one by one, slow and easy. The whole time your cock is begging to be let out. Tell me about your cock.”
“Right now, it’s long, thick and aching for you.”
“Just like I imagined it, Rush. I free it and your balls from your pants, but leave the pants tight up around them, so your package is showcased just for me.”
“What do I do?”
“You moan like a bitch when I take you in my mouth.”
“Fuck, Brian, you just made me harder.”
“I suck you, then go back and forth between licking that juicy head and licking your balls.”
Harsh breathing filled Brian’s ears as he imagined Rush pumping hard on his dick, bringing himself off while he listened.
“Then, you bury your hands in my hair and hold me down. Your hips start moving and you’re fucking my mouth, and I’m groaning and you keep driving into me, deep in my throat, but I’m taking every fucking inch of you,” Brian rasped, his hips moving as he jerked off in a near frenzy. On the edge of coming, with just a little more, he’d lose it.
“Damn it, darlin’, you got me like a pistol. Hot, loaded and ready to shoot,” Rush groaned.
“Then you’re exploding into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat, hot and salty and so fucking delicious, I know I’m going to want more of you. I’m swallowing you down, sucking on your dick, getting every last drop of your cum, and you’re moaning and calling out my name.”
Rush groaned. “Fuck, darlin’. It feels so sweet. Here it comes…” His words were lost in a strangled cry when he came.
Brian lost his load and cried out, shooting all over his belly. He slid his fingers up and down his cock, spreading his own creamy cum over his dick as he milked himself.
“Rush, oh shit, that was so hot,” Brian whispered, bathing his balls with his jism.
Their harsh panting as they recovered from their orgasms echoed in the phone line.
Brian shuddered then lowered his voice to a sexy-as-hell whisper. “Did you get my cell phone number, cowboy?”
“Yeah, it’s on my phone,” Rush breathed.
“Good. Call me.” Brian hung up.
He flopped ba
ck onto the bed and tried to steady himself. He’d just hung up on the man of his dreams, but he’d wanted to leave Rush begging for more. Brian had taken a chance on the move to do just that, to make Rush crave even more of him. He wanted Rush to want him and no one else.
The only problem was now he’d have to wait until Rush called him. Shit. Maybe Rush would make him wait five nights until he called back. Brian groaned. It would serve him right for being such a coward. If he’d gone with his heart, instead of his head, he would have called Rush the next day.
What if he’d made a mistake? What if Rush didn’t call back and tonight had been all he’d wanted from Brian? Brian wanted so much more from Rush than a jack-off session over the phone.
He wanted Rush’s body. His heart. Everything the man had to give.
Chapter Four
“Hello, gorgeous,” Brian said as he leaned against the chest-high wall of the gray cubicle. The black woman he grinned down at paused, flicked her amber eyes up at him, gave a soft humph then went back to her typing, her long purple nails clattering on the computer’s keyboard.
“Hello, yourself.” She peered at her computer over the half-glasses perched on the end of her nose. “What do you want?” She frowned at the screen.
“Now, Sheila, what makes you think I want anything? Can’t a man just drop in on his favorite woman now and then?” Brian shook his head.
“No, because every time you darken my door you need something. Are you sure I’m your favorite woman?” She batted unnaturally long lashes at him. “’Cause I don’t mess with no playas.”
“Of course you’re my favorite.”
“You mean, I’m your only,” she shot back. She took her hands off the keyboard, picked up a huge cup of water and took a sip. “So, what can the Department of Children’s Protective Services do for you today, Mr. PI?”
Brian eyed her large expanse of breasts, like two plump pillows that any man, straight or gay, would be pleased to rest his weary head upon. Sheila Mae Wilkins was his connection at the bureau and a longtime friend. When he’d first hung out his PI shingle, he’d helped her brother and she’d never forgotten it.
