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Chapter Twenty-One

L uke waited until the cops had taken statements, until all the pictures of the truck had been taken, and until Rory had told the damned story fifteen times in a row.

The sheriff clearly thought Rory had provoked someone, but he refused to believe Doug Harris had dick to do with it. “You never saw the driver, and the vehicle doesn’t match anything from around here,” he’d said. “Road rage.”

“For what?” Rory had snapped. “Pulling off to let him pass? Man, I’m such a bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, boy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You and I went to high school together. I’m not your goddamn boy.” Lord, Rory had a temper and a half.

“I wasn’t twelve.”

“No, you were nineteen because you failed first grade.”

“Jesus.” The sheriff leveled a finger at Rory. “Look, if any proof turns up then sure, I’ll run Harris in. But right now, it looks pretty much like you’re taking a bad fright and using it against someone you dislike pretty badly. Not my problem. ”

“No, of course not. Did you see how many times I had a bad fright?”

“I did.”

Luke was gonna fucking boil over, and by the time Sheriff Tyler left, the son of a bitch was shaking like fall’s last leaf.

The door closed, and Luke pounded a fist on his wheelchair. “Jesus, what a fucker.”

“Indeed. Our elected officials. I’m so proud.”

“Y’all need me to drive you home?” Avery asked.

Luke winced. He’d kinda forgotten they were at Avery’s.

“My truck’s drivable. I’ll take it home and call the insurance company in the morning.” Rory met his eyes. “If you feel safe with me, of course.”

“I’m coming back to your place.” Luke just wanted to make that clear. Rory didn’t need to be alone. Shock could set in anytime.

“Good deal.” Rory offered him a shaky smile. “I have stuff for sandwiches.”

“I’m still following you two home, just to make sure you make it.” Avery looked stubborn as hell.

“I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I have?—”

“Shut up,” Avery cut Rory right off. “I’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks, Avery. Your help means a lot.”

Luke nodded. “Thank God we were here and not out at Matt’s.”

“Let’s go home, okay?” Rory was starting to look a little panicked around the edges.

“You got it.” Avery frowned. “I’ll drive you. You have the Mustang at home, and the adjuster can come here just as easily as not. Come on.”

“But…”

“Rory. Babe. Please?” He could beg. Luke didn’t want Rory driving if he was getting nuts .

“All right, but I’m fine. Really.”

“I know.” Luke grabbed Rory’s hand again. “Can you wheel me out?”

“Sure, honey.” Those long, fine fingers trembled, but they got him out to Avery’s truck. Rory’s pickup was beat to hell, but the thing had held up. He would totally buy himself one of those, as soon as he was driving again.

Rory couldn’t look at it.

Luke couldn’t blame him. Hell, he was peering at the damned truck and thinking about the troop mover he’d been in exploding and flipping. No. None of that shit. Rory needed him and he’d be damned if he was going to be psycho-PTSD guy right now.

They got to Avery’s truck, and it was Avery who managed to get Luke up in the seat, Rory slipping to the back of the king cab. Luke wanted to see Rory’s face, but Rory did put one hand on his shoulder, connecting them.

The rain was coming down now, the storm bashing at the world, the raindrops white in the headlights.

What a mess.

No one chatted. Avery just drove them to Rory’s, then helped him out of the truck. “Keep an eye on him, sailor. He’s had a rough day,” Avery murmured.

“Thanks for the ride.” Luke nodded, then wheeled over to the ramp for Rory to push him inside.

“Thanks for everything,” Rory said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, buddy. You have the insurance adjuster come to my place.”

“Will do.” Rory gave Avery a one-armed hug before coming to help Luke inside. Jesus, he was pale.

Luke needed to get him in a hot shower, maybe, check him for injuries .

That sounded like something that could totally happen before food.

“How was therapy, Luke? I forgot to ask.”

“Not too bad today. Good thing, too. At least I wasn’t on the bars when you called.”

“I’m sorry. I just knew y’all were the closest place from where I was.”

“I’m glad. I would have shot the bastard if he’d followed you in.”

“Good.” Rory made sure all the doors were locked. “I need… Are you hungry?”

“I can wait. Let’s get you changed. You bled a little.” Luke touched his lip to indicate where Rory must have bounced off a window or bit his lip or something.

“Did I?” Rory leaned in toward him. “Hey. Hey.”

“Hey.” He reached up to tug Rory down, wanting a kiss, and didn’t Rory give it to him, lips crashing down on his like there wasn’t a damn thing broken about him, like Rory believed he could take anything.

Luke slid his arm around Rory’s back, willing his damned body to prove it was true. He needed this man like he needed air.

“I want… I want to touch, Luke. I need it.”

Luke could damn near see the adrenaline flowing through Rory’s veins.

He nodded sharply. Yes. Now. “Bedroom.”

“Yes.” Rory led him back, stopping every few steps to touch him, kiss him. Those hands were still shaking, but Rory seemed to know what he needed, so Luke wasn’t gonna argue.

They shut the cats out of the bedroom, both of them shucking clothes as soon as the door closed behind them.

He was fucking proud of himself as he moved from chair to bed with relative grace, and Rory nodded as he did, the expression on the handsome face utterly appreciative .

“Are you going to think less of me if I beg to ride you?” Rory asked.

“No.” His heartbeat kicked into high gear, almost making him dizzy. “No, I think that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in ages.” Luke spread his arms, making himself what he hoped was an inviting target.

“Oh, Jesus, you got my mouth all dry. You’re so fine.” The words would make him growl, make him protest, except Rory wasn’t putting him on. The expression on Rory’s face was one of pure hunger.

Luke beckoned with one hand. “Come show me how bad you want it, babe.” He felt brave. Really fucking brave.

Rory crawled onto the bed, starting at his ankles with tiny little licks and sharp sucking kisses. Goddamn. Rory didn’t shy away from him at all.

It wasn’t gross, either. His injured legs got just as much attention as the rest of him, but not so much that he felt weird. Rory was just into him. Period.

He gave, too, stroking that heavy fall of gold hair, then rubbing Rory’s shoulders, hunting tension and working it out.

It made him whimper when Rory took one of his balls in that burning mouth. There wasn’t going to be a problem with keeping it up for Rory. Not a problem at all. His cock was so hard it hurt.

He panted, his belly rippling. No cramps. Please God, no cramps.

“Shh.” Rory lifted his head, hands sliding over his thighs, his abs. “Breathe. No pressure, huh?”

He didn’t know about that. Luke needed to prove to himself he could do this. He knew he had nothing to prove to Rory. “None,” he agreed wryly.

“Okay, only good pressure.” Rory winked at him, grinned just as wryly. “I ache for you. It’s not just the let-down from the wreck, either. I’ve been having wet dreams since that first time.”

Luke jerked, his cock pushing up, a tiny drop of fluid sliding out. “Well, no offense, babe, but I’m not gonna last long. We’d better get to it.”

“Uh-huh.” Rory swooped down and swiped the tip with his tongue, not helping at all. “Let me grab the condoms.” He got up and headed to the chest of drawers, then looked back over his shoulder at Luke. “You want to get me ready for you?”

Jesus. Luke gritted his teeth against the ache in his lower belly, his balls drawing up. “You got slick, babe?” He was in mostly unfamiliar territory now, but he read stories online. A lot. He had a pretty clear idea.

“I do.” Rory brought the condoms over and then straddled his waist, leaning over his head to grab a well-used tube of ointment. “Ta-da.”

“Nice.” Luke hoped that was just for jacking off…

“I love ass play. I have a couple of toys for when the urge hits, you know?” Had there ever been anyone like Rory? Ever? The sheer honesty floored him.

“Well, if I get too far off what you like, you just tell me, babe.” Luke got his fingers wet, got one pressed to Rory’s hole, just like that.

“It’s you, Luke. It’s new and wonderful and fucking erotic. It’s right.”

“Thank you.” He was humbled by this trust, by the need.

And God knew he wanted Rory more than he’d ever wanted anything.

He touched Rory, one finger becoming two easily, Rory never letting him doubt how good it felt.

He watched Rory grind for him, and he lost himself in it, his own need taking a backseat suddenly.

He’d never believed for a second that he was going to have this, going to be able to see it—this gorgeous, lean man dancing on his fingers like a flame.

He pushed with that third wet finger, but he needed more lube. Now that was a complicated maneuver, but Luke was a SEAL. All in, all the time. He rolled up with his abs, reaching with his free hand to gently apply more slick stuff.

Rory grabbed the rubbers while he was re-lubing and started working the packet open. They were going to do this.

Luke took one deep breath, then another, bringing his free hand back around to squeeze the base of his cock hard, needing to back off a moment.

“I know, right?” Rory panted. “I feel like I could go off like a rocket, just from your fingers.”

“I’m gonna die,” Luke agreed. “It’s the best way I can think of to go.”

“No dying. Fountains of spunk? Yes. Death? No.”

The laughter eased him back again and made him tickled as fuck that Rory was the one that he actually got to try this with. Ridiculous man. Rory made him feel as if no matter what happened, they would have a ball.

He slid his fingers free, wiping them down on the towel Rory had brought over with the lube. “Okay, glove me, babe.”

“I’m on it.” Rory smoothed the condom down with hands that still shook the slightest bit.