Don't Read in the Closet: GayRomLit Retreat 2011 Special Edition Page 4

  “What the hell, O?” Rory squawked as he held his pants up with his free hand and stumbled behind, trying not to trip over his own feet.

  “Can’t wait, Ror.” Owen sounded nearly panicked. “Can’t wait.”

  Rory laughed. He couldn’t wait either.

  The slap of Rory’s bare feet and softer pound of Owen’s rubber-soled ones, echoed off the tunnel walls as they ran from the field and into the empty locker room. Owen released Rory’s hand as soon as they were inside the door and dove for a garbage can along the wall.

  “Doorbell,” he said as he rolled the large can in front of the door. “Just in case.”

  Rory opened his mouth to tell Owen that was a good idea, but before he could get a word out, Owen was on him. His mouth fused to Rory’s in an aggressive, demanding kiss. More hands than seemed possible dug into bare skin, tunneled through hair and tugged; shoved at his jeans until they shackled his ankles and threatened to topple him as Owen back-walked him. His calves hit one of three leather couches at the far end of the room, where the team gathered to study practice and game videos with their coaches.

  The second Rory’s butt sank into the plush leather Owen began tugging his jeans over his feet. Owen stood there, staring down at Rory, his desire palpable; jeans still in clutched his hand all but forgotten. “Heaven above…”

  Rory held a hand out. “Come here.”

  Owen took the proffered hand and knelt between Rory’s bare legs. Rory pulled him in and once again claimed those swollen, caramel apple lips. Owen settled his body into Rory’s and pressed his abdomen against Rory’s cock. Rory slowly slid his hands down Owen’s strong back, tracing every angle and curve of muscle, over each bump of his spine, under the band of his sweatpants and down into the two dimpled valleys that hovered above a perfectly defined ass. He pushed the pants down with open palms, covering as much skin as possible as he went. And God, if that wasn’t the softest skin he’d ever felt.

  Owen leaned back, breaking their kiss. His lips, full and flush, glistened with moisture. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Rory with the expression of a child on Christmas morning. “Can I?” he whispered in a graveled voice.

  “Please. Yes.”

  With hands firmly holding Rory’s hips, Owen kissed him one more time on the lips before his tongue led his mouth on a journey from Rory’s jaw, down the side of his neck where Owen nipped at the thick, corded muscle teasingly with his teeth. He followed the line of Rory’s clavicle into the hollow of his throat, then down the center of his chest and over to a hardened nipple. He teased it with his tongue and teeth and Rory’s head fell back against the couch, eyes closed to increase the sensation of touch that swept through his body under Owen’s devoted worship.

  Owen continued his southbound journey until his chin bumped the head of Rory’s cock, and a spike of electricity charged through Rory’s every vein. “God, Owen. Suck me. Please.”

  Rory caught his breath when Owen’s strong tongue, hot and wet, twirled around the head of his straining shaft, and then down the underside to the base, before returning to the tip. And then he was engulfed in the most incredible heat he’d ever felt. All he’d known to this point was his own hand. Rory had never wanted another living soul as badly as he wanted Owen Harris. It was because he was so completely in love with his best friend, that he’d been unable to experience any other man. He’d tried once. Tried to get over Owen by having sex with another, but he couldn’t do it. Guilt rose fast and furious and nearly drowned him with its suffocating force. He wanted Owen to be his first everything.

  Owen released his hips and wrapped one hand around the base of Rory’s cock, while he moved the other down to cup and gently squeeze his balls.

  “Damn, Owen. That feels amazing.” Rory lifted his head to watch as he carefully rocked his hips upward, pushing himself deeper into that glorious mouth. Owen looked up and met his gaze with an intensity Rory felt like a punch to the gut. His heart smashed against his ribcage with brutal force, perspiration broke out on his forehead and the telltale tingling began at the base of his spine.

  “O…” Rory warned. He grabbed Owen’s head and tried to push him off his dick. But Owen wasn’t having any of that. He gave one shake and clamped down with his lips, then sucked back up so hard his cheeks hollowed. The crawling tingles exploded into blinding bolts of lightning, shocking Rory with its force, and threw him into the eye of the storm. He roared Owen’s name as his body ripped apart and scattered throughout the stratosphere. Owen didn’t let go, didn’t let him lose himself in that moment of pure, mindless bliss. He stayed with him, strong and protective, and carried him gently back to earth -- spent, sated and speechless.

  Owen wrapped his arms around Rory’s waist and rested his head on Rory’s stomach. Rory had yet to detangle his fingers from Owen’s hair, not yet able to command any part of his body to move.

  “I can’t believe how fucking good you taste,” Owen said, the awe in his voice nearly tangible.

  “Share,” Rory said.

  Owen crawled up Rory’s torso and kissed him open mouthed. His abdomen clenched when he tasted himself on Owen’s tongue. Need fluttered through his insides and Rory wanted more. Wanted everything. He pulled back, looked into those beautiful brown eyes and said, “I want you to fuck me.” His dick pulsed in agreement, sluggish but damned determined to stand up for the occasion.

  Owen’s eyes widened, desire and trepidation danced a slow waltz in their depths, his lips parted and his mouth worked silently. “I-- ” He lowered and raised his gaze. “I don’t know…what to do.”

  Rory smiled and caressed Owen’s face, smooth skin and rough stubble under his palm a pleasant contrast. “Don’t worry. I know.”

  Owen’s brows furrowed. “How do you know?”

  “Gay porn, dude.”

  Owen laughed, leaning into Rory’s hand. “Figures.”

  “Don’t suppose you have a condom, eh?”

  Owen shook his head and Rory didn’t miss the fleeting shadow of disappointment that crossed over his features. He ruffled Owen’s spiky locks. “Let me up.”

  He laughed when Owen smacked his ass as he crawled across the floor on hands and knees to grab his jeans.

  “What are you doing?” Owen asked, pulling himself up onto the couch and stretching out on his side to watch, head rested on his hand.

  “Lucky for us we just happen to be attending the number one party college in the States. And what does every responsible school’s locker room for horny athletes have?”

  Owen cracked a sly smile. “A condom dispenser.”

  “Bingo, baby!”

  Rory dug into his jeans pockets, pulling out coins and tossing them onto the coffee table until he counted out enough to buy a condom and a pillow packet of lube. He gathered the money and raced to the showers, where there were dispensers for soap and shampoo, Band-Aids and ointments, lotions to cool or heat strained muscles -- and most important of all, condoms. Rory’s hands shook as he shoved the coins into the slot, pressed the correct buttons and ran back to where Owen waited.

  He came up short when he saw Owen stretched out on the black leather couch. Golden skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, defined lean muscle wrapped artistically around dense bone, sun-bleached hair dusted long legs that were made for running, a thick cock rose straight and proud from a course thatch of hair. Lips swollen from kissing, and dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust and desire, just about fell Rory to his knees to beg his worthiness.

  Owen Harris was his. Finally.

  “Good God, you’re beautiful,” he said. A pink flush colored Owen’s cheeks at the praise.

  Rory dropped the two small packets on the table and knelt down at the end of the couch, before Owen’s feet. He clasped his hands over Owen’s ankles and leaned over to kiss the top of one foot and then the other. He worked his way up strong legs, mouth and tongue following hands and fingers as they traced every dip and groove and line of skin and muscle and bone that created the priceless work of art spread out before him. He continued his journey until he reached the sharp line where hip and thigh met groin and slid one hand under Owen’s ass, while the other lightly rode the ridge of his rock solid erection. Owen moaned and pushed into Rory’s palm, looking for more.

  Rory licked at Owen’s balls with the flat of his tongue, and breathed in the musky male scent that sent a spike of desire shooting up his center. He sucked one into his mouth and rolled it while Owen writhed beneath him, mumbling incoherently. He released it to give the other ball equal treatment, and then licked up the length of Owen’s shaft to the leaking tip. The bittersweet taste that was all Owen filled his mouth and washed down his throat, and Rory knew at that moment he would forever be addicted to that unique flavor. He would need it every day for the rest of his life. And twice on Sundays.

  Rory opened up and swallowed down that thick, velvet-covered cock until it bumped up at the back of his throat and he had to make a hasty retreat. Obviously deep-throating was a practiced skill, and damn if he wasn’t looking forward to practicing as often and long as possible to perfect it. He smiled and chuckled with his mouth full of Owen, which caused Owen to clench his hands into Rory’s hair and thrust up into his mouth.

  “Yeah, Rory,” he panted. “Yeah.”

  Rory hummed a response that drew a full-bodied shudder from Owen and gave Rory a sense of power, knowing it was he giving this pleasure to his best friend. He was the one able to reduce Owen to a babbling bowl of jell-O. Reveling in this new-found discovery, Rory continued to work Owen with his mouth and tongue and slight graze of teeth until Owen began to tense.

  “Ror…” he groaned.

  Rory released him with a pop and crawled on top of Owen to claim his lips in a bruising kiss. Owen immediately opened
to him and their tongues fought for control. The need for each other once again escalated to panic level.

  Rory broke the battling kiss and reached over for their supplies. He rolled back to Owen and gruffly commanded, “Get me ready.”

  Owen took the packets with a shaky hand as they readjusted themselves -- Rory on his back and Owen resting on bent knees with Rory’s legs over his thighs. Owen looked up at Rory with questioning eyes.

  “Cover your fingers with the lube, then slowly work around and into my hole. Start with just one and add more as the muscle relaxes. Then lube yourself up and take me.”

  “You learned this from watching porn?” Owen’s expression shifted from uncertainty to amusement. “That’s so not romantic.”

  “Shut up.”

  Owen’s teasing smile faded. He worried his lower lip and with single-minded focus, tentatively pressed one finger against Rory’s nerve-riddled opening. The unfamiliar sensation sent a shockwave of goose bumps over his skin and drew a throat-searing moan of pleasure from his throat. Owen worked him with a reverence and gentleness that flooded every corner of Rory’s body with an overwhelming sense of belonging and adoration.

  “Now, Owen,” he said, his voice ragged with need. “Now.”

  Owen fumbled with the condom wrapper for a moment, then with a frustrated huff gave up and tossed onto Rory’s chest. “Fingers are too slippery.”

  Rory opened the packet, slowly rolled the latex down Owen’s straining length, and then held him in his hands. Burning into his memory what would soon be burning inside him. Owen closed a hand over Rory’s and their gazes locked for a silent speaking moment. Rory nodded his head once and let his hands fall away to rest on Owen’s thighs and Owen shifted to line himself up. “Here we go, baby.”

  Owen looked down and watched as he pressed the blunt head of his cock to Rory’s entrance, then held still. Anticipation built into narrowed, biting focus. There was only he and Owen and the matching beat of their racing hearts, and the harsh rapid breaths that echoed in a room that had closed and wrapped around them with the weight of a heavy blanket. Nothing beyond existed.

  “I don’t know if I’ll fit, Ror.” Owen’s whole body trembled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You will and you won’t, O. I promise. Just…just go. God, I need to feel you.”

  Owen squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, a long growl rising from deep within his chest, and pressed inside one slow inch by one slow inch. Rory felt the stretch of tight muscles, the slight burn and discomfort of invasion, and then a flooding wave of sweet, eye-watering pleasure as his body opened and Owen filled him completely. Their bodies merged together and two became one.

  “Oh. My. God. Ror.” Owen’s voice a jagged whisper. “You feel incredible. So fucking tight and hot and…oh…God. I think I’m going to come right now.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Rory reached up for Owen’s neck and tugged him down. The second their lips met, he rocked his hips up and gasped into Owen’s mouth as the angle shifted and Owen rode over Rory’s prostate. Every single nerve ending in his body ignited. Owen slid almost all the way out, and slowly pushed back. Rory matched Owen’s movements and they settled into a steady, pounding rhythm that gained speed and force with each thrust until Rory’s whole body sang with the exhilarating rush of Owen’s taking, claiming -- loving. It was sheer perfection.

  Owen broke their kiss and took Rory in hand as they raced to crescendo together. He pulled and twisted Rory’s cock in time with every hard, deep plunge into his body. “Come with me.” His rhythm faltered and body jerked and he shouted Rory’s name so loud Rory knew his ears would still be ringing the next morning. Before the last echo of Owen’s roar faded in the team locker room, Rory’s orgasm caught him by surprise and charged through his body with lightning speed, exploding in hot, wet strikes across his stomach.

  Owen carefully pulled out and collapsed on top of Rory in a boneless sweaty heaving heap, and Rory cherished the weight of his best friend, his lover, covering him. He tunneled his fingers through Owen’s hair as their breathing and pulses steadily throttled back.

  “I can’t believe we just did that,” Owen mumbled against Rory’s cheek.

  “I can’t believe it took us so long.”

  “We’re both total idiots, you know.”

  “Yeah.” Rory agreed. “And we totally deserve each other.”

  Owen chuckled and then said, “Will you move back in now?”

  “No.”

  Owen fell silent and Rory felt the smile slip from his face. He gave Owen a playful shove. “You’re moving in with me because you’re too damn loud for us to share the dorm. We’d be kicked out in a week.”

  This time the silence that swirled around them was laced with pure contentment and a sense that all was right in the world.

  “I did mean it,” Owen said. “I love you.”

  Rory hugged him tighter to his chest and nuzzled his nose into Owen’s hair. Into his ear he whispered, “I love you too, Owen Harris. Always have, always will.”

  ~ Touchdown ~

  THE END

  Author bio: Artist by day, author by night, L.C. Chase is a hopeless romantic and adventure seeker. Many of those adventures are fodder for her stories. The first time she left home, she traveled 1200 miles to California -- to be a rock star -- with two hundred dollars in her pocket. A four-year walkabout took her on a coast-to-coast back roads tour of the USA, across both of New Zealand's islands by bicycle, and a short road trip in Australia. Now that L.C. has two of the coolest nephews on the planet, she calls the Canadian West Coast home. When not writing, L.C. can be found reading, drawing, horseback riding, or running the trails with her goofy Australian Shepherd, who, if he were human, would be a stand-up comedian.

  Website: http://www.lcchase.com

  Blog: http://lcchase.blogspot.com

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/lc_chase

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/39906...

  Jaya Christopher – CODY AND THE HERMIT (BDSM/Cowboys)

  Selected by Jaya Christopher

  Dear Author,

  So, I totally have a thing for Cowboys... and I found this picture:

  [PHOTO: In sunlit black and white, two dark-haired men play out a scene of restraint. One, naked and lightly muscled, lies face-down on a wooden frame, hands roped high, ankles spread and bound. At his left ankle, the other man kneels, tightening ropes. He wears cuffed jeans, boots, holster and Stetson but his muscled upper body is bare.]

  How does one get tied up like this by a hunky cowboy?

  Sincerely,

  Jess

  Genres: western, BDSM

  Tags: cowboys, BDSM, contemporary, fluff

  Words: 5,687

  CODY AND THE HERMIT

  by Jaya Christopher

  Cody Coltrane stuffed his hands in his pockets and rested one dusty boot against the weathered exterior of Coltrane Feed & Seed, his well-worn stetson blocking the glare of the afternoon sun. It was a few minutes after twelve pm and Cody was standing where he always did on a Wednesday afternoon, right outside the entrance of his family's business, waiting for Kenny Tyler to pull up in his gleaming farm truck.

  Kenny didn't come into town much and when he did, Cody liked to be front and center. He'd been trying to catch Kenny's attention since they were toddling around and he'd never really succeeded, outside of a few scant years of friendship when they were school. Kenny had always been a loner, keeping his thoughts to himself and hanging solo when others moved in groups. As hard as Cody had tried to press in, Kenny had pulled away.

  The thing was, Cody was pretty sure that he was in love with Kenny by the time they were fifteen. It was hard enough falling in love with another guy in their small town without falling for someone like Kenny...someone completely unattainable. He'd chased around after Kenny like an eager puppy for far too long. Then, Kenny had hightailed it right out of town the moment they'd finished high school, throwing off the family pressure and leaving his younger brother with the monumental responsibility of running the Double T Ranch when their father retired.