by Lynn Lorenz
Long-distance relationships never work, anyway.
Rush chewed his bottom lip. He’d never had a relationship with a man, just a series of one-night stands, mostly quick, nameless sex, and he made it a point never to hang around long enough to cuddle, much less have breakfast. He’d made a choice when he’d been younger, knowing his life was right here.
With Brian, he’d felt—no, he’d known—there was a man he might want to wake up to in the morning, might open up to, might let into his heart. Might change his mind about living alone.
And that terrified Rush.
* * * *
“Ten minutes until closing,” a woman said as she tapped Brian on the shoulder.
He sat back, stretched and rubbed his eyes. They felt as if they’d been buried in sand then reinserted into their sockets. Going through the microfiche on the ancient machine was going to blind him.
Checking his watch, it was almost five o’clock, and he hadn’t made a dent in the list. In order to find out if the kids were even the same age as Sammi would have been required pulling up each file, putting it in the machine, and going through it to find the necessary information. So far, there had been no clear leads, but he still had the bulk of the names to go over.
He groaned, realizing he’d have to stay in Austin overnight to finish the next day. He picked up his list and his notes then dropped the papers into his portfolio and headed to the elevators.
Sammi would just die if he knew it would take two days of his hard-earned money for Brian to check out these leads. He decided not to tell Sammi. He didn’t need the money, and what Sammi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. The young man had pride, even if it was newly found. Brian could understand and respect that.
As he got into his car, he turned it on, hit the onboard navigator and called up the nearest hotel. After searching through the selections, he found one that was reasonable and nearby. Brian called, booked a room then looked for somewhere to eat.
He was starving. Missing lunch had been a bad idea. Now, he scanned the listings for the closest buffet. All he could eat sounded damn fine to him. Then, back to the hotel, get clean and go over the list of names.
Maybe he’d get a hunch about one of them.
Go straight to Go. Collect two hundred dollars.
Lately, his gift had been strangely silent. And that worried him.
Then, between heartbeats, between breaths, between the blink of his eyes, it came to him. Something big was coming, and he knew when it hit, if he wasn’t careful, it might just knock him off his feet.
* * * *
Rush stared at the phone in his hand.
More than anything, he wanted to see Brian. What was the point? It would end badly. They couldn’t be together, and his heart would be broken. He’d avoided that fate for a long time, why let it happen now?
Best to call and break it off. End it before it went too far.
He flipped open the phone, hit his contact list and brought up Brian’s name. Biting his lip, he hesitated as he hovered his finger over the pad.
Maybe he shouldn’t call. Maybe he just wouldn’t show up on Friday.
Coward. That was a shitty way to dump someone. Especially a man like Brian. That sort of attraction didn’t come along every day, Rush realized that much. He should be open and honest about his feelings and his fears.
Open and honest were things he did not do well. What would he say? “Sorry, darlin’, I’m too fucking scared of being hurt to take a chance on you. Forget it, babe, you’re not worth me giving up my ranch.”
He pushed the phone against his leg and snapped it closed.
* * * *
Brian stretched out on the hotel bed farthest from the air conditioner. It was chugging along, shooting tepid air into the room. All in all, it wasn’t a horrible room. He’d checked the sheets and they looked clean enough.
He picked up the TV remote and flipped through the hotel’s offerings. Not much. A few ESPN channels and some pay-for-view. His eyebrows rose when he came across a porn channel. He dropped the remote on his stomach and watched.
Some porn star queen was giving head to some obscenely endowed dude. Guy was lying there, arms behind his head and eyes closed as if he was asleep. Brian snorted. Hell, woman or not, if anyone was sucking on his dick like this woman was doing to that guy, he’d at least open his eyes and fucking pay attention.
Frustrated, he turned it off. He didn’t want to watch anyone else. He wanted Rush. Shit. Just the thought of talking dirty to Rush got him hard.
He reached for his phone, flipped it open, found Rush’s name and hit Send.
After two rings, Rush answered, “Hello?”
“Rush.” Brian sighed. God, his cock throbbed.
“Darlin’,” Rush exhaled. “Miss you.”
“Miss you. Need you, cowboy.” Brian flicked open the button of his jeans, slid down the zipper and splayed his pants apart. His cock bulged, trying to break through his briefs.
“Fuck, Brian, this is nuts. You get me so horny.”
“My dick is weeping for you, cowboy.” Brian pushed down his briefs and pulled out his cock. The leakage dribbled from its slit. He thumbed it over the head and hissed.
“I jerked off first thing this morning. Called out your name, darlin’,” Rush drawled.
God, his voice sent shivers down Brian’s spine. “I’m so hard for you, I’m aching.”
“You know what to do.”
“Yeah. Fuck, I want you to suck me. I’m getting tired of my hand.”
“Me, too. My wrist and elbow are sore as hell. How am I going to explain it to the doctor? Been jerking off like a fifteen-year-old with raging hormones. Got a guy that keeps me hard all day and makes me come in my sleep. Can you do anything for me, Doc?” Rush laughed, deep and rich.
“That reminds me. Have you been tested recently?”
“Yep. I get tested every six months. I’m very careful,” Rush assured him. “You?”
“I test every six months also, and I always wear a condom.”
“Me, too.”
“Never found the man I trusted enough to go natural with. I’m saving it, I guess.” Brian gave a wry chuckle.
“For that special someone?”
“Yeah. Sounds silly, huh?” Brian wanted Rush to be his someone special, but if he mentioned the ‘love’ word too soon, Rush would probably bolt.
“No, sounds good.” Rush exhaled long and slow.
“You working it, cowboy?” Brian wanted to hear Rush talk to him.
“Using two hands, darlin’. One’s squeezing my balls, the other’s stroking my prick. I’m buck naked, stretched out on my bed, with a hard-on just for you.”
Brian groaned. “All six foot fucking four of you? Want to lick every inch of your body. Want to suck your nipples until they’re hard as bullets. Want to run my fingers through the hair around your cock. Cup your balls. Suck them.” Brian panted as his hand shot up and down, his thumb brushing over the tip, pumping as if he were going to die if he didn’t explode.
“Goddamn, darlin’, this is killing me. I’m so hot I’m going to blow my load. Tell me you want me,” Rush begged.
“I want you. Want you to fuck me. Ride me like a fucking horse. Slam into me—”
“That’s it! I’m coming. It’s so fucking sweet. Brian, goddamn!” Rush cried out.
“Right behind you, cowboy.” Brian’s fist flew like fury over the rim of his head, and his release shot through his cock, exploding onto his belly. “So good, Rush, so good.” He sighed.
Hard, deep panting slowed to soft, shallow breaths.
“Fuck, we’ve got to stop this.” Rush laughed.
“It’s only going to get worse. Once I have your ass, I’m going to want you all the time,” Brian confessed. “What will we do then?”
Silence.
Brian’s stomach flipped. Shit.
“You there, Rush? Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Y
ou’re real quiet.” Brian knew not to push but he wanted to know.
“About seeing each other…” Rush hesitated.
“What about it? You’re still coming tomorrow night, aren’t you?” Brian licked his lips. His mouth had gone dry and all the moisture in his body seemed to have evaporated.
Rush inhaled over the line. His breath held for what seemed a lifetime. Brian waited for Rush to speak.
“I’ll be there.” Rush exhaled.
“Did you just light up?” Brian recognized the sounds of smoking.
“Yeah.”
“You shouldn’t, you know,” he said softly.
“I know. But it’s one of my few addictions.”
“What other addictions do you have?” God, Brian hoped there was nothing serious. He was just straight-laced enough to abhor drugs and, even though he drank, there was a big difference from that and being an alcoholic.
“Well, I never met a pair of boots I didn’t like.”
“That’s harmless enough. I feel that way about coffee mugs,” Brian admitted.
“And I find it hard to resist a newborn calf or foal.” His voice took on a teasing lilt. “It’s those big brown eyes, surrounded by thick dark lashes, sort of like yours. They get me every time.”
“Good to know. What else?”
There was a long pause and a sharp inhale. Brian held his breath, knowing something big was coming.
“You,” Rush breathed. “I can’t get enough of you, and it scares the crap out of me.”
Chapter Six
Brian was speechless. After he swallowed and steadied his breathing, he whispered, “I know. I’m scared, too. This is really intense. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Yeah, that’s just it. I’ve never wanted a man as bad as I want you.”
“I’m afraid I’ll screw this up, and if I do, it’ll never come again.” Brian opened a piece of his heart to Rush. It might have been foolish, it might have been too soon, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Look, I’ll be there tomorrow, but I’m not promising anything, Brian.” Rush’s voice turned sharp and impatient. “This is hard for me.”
“I understand. Can we just try? I know we’re both frightened about this, but can we at least give it a chance?”
“I’ll see you then.” Rush hung up, leaving Brian’s question unanswered.
Brian rolled off the bed, undressed and hit the shower. He had to get a full day’s work in tomorrow and with the questions that were swimming around in his head that might just prove harder than he’d thought.
* * * *
Rush woke with a world-class hard-on. Groaning, he knew it wasn’t a piss erection—the ache was too primal, coming straight from his balls, not his bladder.
Fuck. Brian had him so hot and horny he couldn’t stand it. And despite all his declarations of staying away, he’d agreed to go to Houston and meet Brian. Again, he ran through all the reasons he shouldn’t go. There was a long list of those and only one reason to make his date.
The chance that Brian was the man he could share his life with. If he didn’t go and find out, he’d call himself a pathetic coward for the rest of his life. And the Weston men had never been cowards. Not his grandfather, his father, not young Robbie. And until he’d met Brian in that alley, he hadn’t thought he was, either.
In truth, he was a coward. He’d been one for fifteen years, hiding what he was from the town, sneaking off to Houston for casual sex and keeping every man he’d ever met at an emotional distance.
He reached for the lube, spread some on his hand and tossed it down. Lying back, he closed his eyes and Brian’s face surged unbidden into his imagination.
Brian, stretched out beneath him, moaned softly as Rush pumped into him. Eyes closed, his tongue passed over his full lips, driving Rush crazy with the desire to kiss them. Instead, he worked the long length of his dick, stroked the oil over the engorged tip, slid his hand back down the sides of his shaft and squeezed his balls.
He was so close to coming that it took nothing more than imagining Brian’s mouth sucking in his balls, first one, then the other, the incredible tingling and sweet pain as he pulled them away from Rush’s body, to send Rush over the edge.
Crying out, he emptied onto his belly, long white streams of jism splattering warm against his skin like heavy raindrops on a window. After a shudder, he fell back and tried to catch his breath.
“I swear, I’m going to have a fuckin’ heart attack tonight.” Rush groaned.
If he knew one thing, it was that phone sex was not enough. He wanted Brian in the sweet, delicious, mouthwatering flesh. Wanted him more than he’d ever wanted anyone else. Most of the men he’d fucked had been easy to walk away from. All of them casual, most anonymous, just used to satisfy the need for physical gratification.
Because Rush could never bring a man home to the ranch. Not while his father had lived, and not while his mother had lived. Now, both of them were dead, buried next to Robbie on the hill behind the house.
Rush slung his legs over the side of the bed and put his head in his hands.
There was no one standing in the way of his happiness.
Except himself.
Fear, like some huge wall of ice, had hardened his heart all these years. Fear of exposure, fear of his parents’ disappointment and rejection, and fear of opening himself up to a man and of being hurt.
On one side stood Rush.
On the other stood Brian.
The wall separating them was immense, cold, hard as steel.
Fuck. Two big men like Brian and Rush should be able to take down that wall, shouldn’t they?
* * * *
Another day spent in the basement of the CPS building, spinning through miles of microfiche, with Brian going cross-eyed as he watched files blur past.
He was down to three possible candidates. The rest of the names had been marked off the list, but these three had stayed. Now, he opened the first one.
A kid named Samuel James Waters. Brian pulled up his record and began going through the images of the boy’s folder. The first materials were the most recent, eventually going back until the child had first come into the system. A photograph stopped him. A dark-haired little boy stared into the camera with eyes so old, so sad, and so deep that it sucked Brian’s breath from his chest. He’d found Sammi.
He had attended high school on the north side of Houston until the day he hadn’t shown up. Reported missing by his foster parents Jason and Donna Rankle, not Don and Jan Ranks. Sammi’s memory was awful, but Brian supposed that to Sammi, they had been just more of the same. He had been with them for only six months.
Prior to that, he’d been assigned to a group home for almost two years. That would put him at about thirteen years old. Brian scanned a notation about a fight. He stopped at another entry, read it and groaned. A report about Sammi being raped had been filed by the social worker for the home. No charges had been brought against the alleged perp, one of the older boys, and he couldn’t find any record of a follow-up investigation.
Shit. Brian couldn’t imagine being raped at thirteen. No one to back him up, or to come to his defense. Nothing done about it. What a fucking nightmare.
Another form. Another set of parents. Sammi had lived with them for almost a year before they’d sent him back. Brian read their statement. Vague, they talked of Sammi’s oddness and their worry that he was dangerous.
Brian shook his head at the wrongness of that statement.
Sammi was many things.
Tender. Vulnerable. Sexy. Loving. Self-sacrificing.
But dangerous was the last thing he’d ever call Sammi.
Sammi had returned to a group home, this time only for a few months. A new set of parents. These had lasted over a year. He had been returned, yet again. Similar comments from the foster mom and dad.
Brian scrolled past more of the same. The pattern was clear as day. Sammi would be fostered out, the parents would return him after six mon
ths to about a year, and back he’d go to the group home. Lather. Rinse. Repeat as necessary.
Brian found a report of alleged sexual abuse filed by the social worker against the foster father when Sammi had been ten years old. Sammi had been removed from the foster home and sent back. Again. Nothing had been done about the bastard who’d abused him.
He’d thought being raped at thirteen must have been horrible. Sexually abused at ten by the person who was supposed to protect you?
That Sammi had survived, had grown into the incredible, giving person he was floored Brian. Mitchell had fallen in love with Sammi without knowing any of this crap. Did he know this stuff now? Had Sammi told him of his past, and if not, should Brian?
Knowing Mitchell, it wouldn’t make a difference to him anyway.
Brian scrolled farther back into Sammi’s records. More of the same. It was heartbreakingly sad.
He returned to the photograph—Sammi stood apart from the man and woman holding hands. A stranger in what should have been his home, among the people who were supposed to care for him. Instead, he’d been tossed back and forth as if he were a human hot potato, with no one wanting him.
Sammi’s life had been a tragedy. But he’d survived, and now he flourished under Mitchell’s love, his acceptance and his belief that Sammi could be so much more than what he’d been.
Leaning back, Brian closed his eyes and rubbed them. What would he have done with an odd childlike Sammi? And he had to have been strange. His power to know what people were thinking and feeling must have creeped the shit out of everyone.
Had Sammi even known what he could do? How had he dealt with it as a young child? Obviously, he’d managed it, but only just. If not for meeting Mitchell, Sammi would have been sold by Donovan to some bastard in Italy and sent overseas to serve whatever perverted needs his buyer might have possessed.
Brian got back to work. Only two hours before closing and the thought of coming back next week made him groan.
The blur spun, then stopped. Brian focused his eyes.
