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again.

Rory stepped into the bathroom distracting Chance from his thoughts. Hard to think, period, with all that taut naked flesh on display.

He felt unsettled inside, as weakened by the emotions flaring up as he had been by the physical act between them. Looking at Rory now, at his guileless blue eyes that couldn’t hide his thoughts or feelings, Chance felt something still inside himself.

“Rory…I…” Chance gave in and reached for Rory, pulling him in close. He tenderly stroked a curl off the younger man’s sweaty brow. How could he explain these new feelings that had grown over the past weeks? Chance wasn’t sure he could. He tipped his chin up, bringing his lips to Rory’s plump mouth.

With the pressing need temporarily sated, Chance was able to savour the feel of Rory’s swollen lips against his own. He cupped the back of Rory’s neck and head with both hands as the younger man’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling their upper bodies together until nothing could slip between them. The taste of Rory’s mouth was thrilling—Chance licked deeper into Rory’s moist heat, tongues brushing against one another languorously.

Chance was so lost in the kiss that he had no idea how much time had passed. “Come on, Rory.” Chance stepped back and grinned. “I’m afraid the water may be cold now. You want to wait a bit to shower?” Chance stuck his hand under the shower spray and quickly pulled it back out. “Shit!” He glanced back to see Rory’s lips twitching with amusement.

“Little cold?”

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

73

“Damn near freezing. It’d definitely wilt your weenie.”

Rory looked startled for all of two seconds before he burst out laughing. “Oh, Christ, Chance!” Rory swiped at his eyes as he shook his head. “I seriously did not need that image—or the phrase ‘wilt your weenie’—to be stuck in my head.”

Chance could swear he could feel the red flush crawl over his skin as he turned off the water. He’d spoken without thinking, but if a little embarrassment on his part had Rory laughing so joyously, Chance knew he’d do it again. And again, because Rory lit up with laughter was a beautiful sight unmatched by anything he could think of.

“Well, I guess I just liked the semi-alliteration.” Chance pretended to think it over, tapping his index finger against his chin before nodding. “Yeah, I just don’t think shrinking your shaft or cowering your cock has quite the same effect.”

Rory laughed again and reached for Chance’s hands. He laced their fingers together and tugged until only a few inches separated them. A serious light sparked in his blue eyes, all traces of laughter now gone.

“Chance.”

His name came out as a breathless whisper. Chance felt his heart thump frantically against his ribs. Everything in Rory’s demeanour warned him of what the man wanted to say. He shook his head at Rory, just a slight movement so as not to break away from Rory’s gaze. Chance saw a flare of pain in that gaze and shook his head again.

“I’m not dismissing what you want to say. I wouldn’t do that. I just…” Am scared as hell to believe it. “I just want you to think about it, be sure that you aren’t just being influenced by how goddamned perfect the sex—”

Rory jerked his hands free and stepped back, pain etched into white lines bracketing his mouth, his full lips pressed into a narrow slash of anger.

“Rory—” Chance stepped towards him, hand extended, guilt driving him to try to soothe away the hurt he’d caused.

“No.” Rory backed further away, denying Chance absolution. “You think I’m too damn stupid to know what I think, what I feel?” Rory’s eyes were almost black, the deep blue irises nearly swallowed by the dilated pupils. “You think I’m some fucking flighty kid?”

Chance almost dropped his hand, almost gave up in the face of Rory’s anger. Wouldn’t that make me the flighty one, to give up so fucking easily? No, he had done this with his own thoughtlessness, and he would damn well fix it. Chance moved forward, matching his steps RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

74

to Rory’s retreating ones. When Rory’s back hit the bathroom door, Chance grabbed the man’s wrist, holding it firm when Rory tried to shake free.

“Fucking let go, Chance!” Rory’s eyes blazed with anger, and Chance had a moment’s worry that the younger man might knock the hell out of him.

He gave a mental shrug, deciding that if Rory did swing at him it was only what he deserved. When Rory did nothing more than vibrate with hurt and fury, Chance stepped closer. He’d given Rory an opportunity to lash out—now he would make such a move difficult.

“Listen to me.” The use of his best boss voice had the desired effect, snapping Rory’s mouth shut. Chance brought his other hand up and reached for Rory’s cheek, pushing aside his own hurt when the man flinched as if to evade the touch. He stroked Rory from cheek to chest, stilling his hand over Rory’s pounding heart.

“I didn’t mean any of those things—you aren’t stupid or flighty.” Chance saw confusion replace some of the anger in Rory’s eyes.

“Then what the—”

Chance shook Rory’s wrist to shut the man up, took a deep breath to clear his own thoughts.

“I fucked up, Rory, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Chance looked away for a moment, shaken by the depth of pain he saw in Rory’s expression.

“Then what did you mean to do, Chance? Because I don’t know.” Rory reached up and grasped Chance’s chin, pulling his head back around to meet Rory’s confused blue eyes.

“What do you want from me, Chance? You don’t want a casual fuck, but you don’t want emotional involvement?” Rory shook his head. “Do you even know what you want?”

Rory frowned at him as Chance considered the man’s questions. No way did he want to screw up all over again.

“Yeah.” Chance tipped his chin out of Rory’s hold. “I do know what

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