Desires' Guardian (7 page)

The mind-numbing assault stopped just as quickly as it had begun, leaving him teetering on the edge of what he felt would probably be the best orgasm of his life, drawing out a growl of aching frustration. Rhys was about to demand Chase get his happy little ass back to work and let him come again, when he realized he was alone on the bed.

The soft rustle of fabric shifting and landing on the floor calmed his frayed nerves and allowed him to grasp enough patience to wait for Chase to continue. The sight of a condom landing beside him as Chase moved
back behind him was reassuring, both because Chase had
remembered—since a few moments before Rhys wouldn’t have cared if they used one or not—and because it meant Chase was
finally
getting to the whole fucking part. Never in his life had he gotten so carried away he’d forgotten about a rubber. Not until Chase started touching him that is.

One more time, Rhys heard the snick of a cap popping, but this time he knew it was the lube, not the massage oil. He shifted his legs wider apart, hoping to hurry Chase up, tipping his ass up a little in silent offering. When a finger finally touched him, he nearly cried in relief. Two fingers circled his now eager hole, tickling and massaging a bit before one slender digit was carefully pushed past his rim and guardian muscles. Chase paused, letting him adjust to the intrusion, though he would have been happier not to delay any more. Once that finger started pumping in and out, twisting as it moved, Rhys was right back to being on edge again, pushing back on Chase’s finger.

“Another, please, Chase.”

A soft giggle met his ears as a second finger joined the first, sliding in and out, scissoring him open. When a third finger pushed in, he tensed, the burn flaring from the amount of stretching—the penetration something he almost never allowed and hadn’t done in ages. The sting was quickly forgotten when those skilled fingers curled and started tagging his gland with every thrust.

The fingers disappeared, and he heard the wrapper tearing, and then Chase was flush against him once more. The head of Chase’s cock was right at his opening, teasing him as it tapped against him; just a little push and he would slide into him.

“Are you sure you want this, Rhys? I know I said I was in charge, but I would never force or coerce you into more than you truly want to give.”

Rhys whimpered. “Now? You ask me now? Fuck me, damn it! Please!”

A slight weight shift behind him, and suddenly he was being breached. The feeling of being stretched and filled was excruciatingly erotic because of how slow and careful Chase was with him. Once fully seated, Chase stopped, holding still as he pressed tightly against him until Rhys pushed back. But instead of withdrawing to slide back in, Chase pushed harder, until Rhys’s thoughts shut down altogether. When Chase did move, it was to snap his hips forward, without drawing back, jabbing so deep within him Rhys was certain he would be feeling this for days. Weeks, maybe. He had never been taken like this, or even thought of it. The jackhammer-like thrusts rubbed the length of Chase’s cock against his gland each time, and deeper than he’d imagined possible.

“Please. I gotta… I need….” Rhys gasped, not knowing anything other than the need to come and the brain-numbing desire for Chase to come with him.

Chase shifted, and instead of the deep jabs, he began pounding in, sliding almost all the way out, then driving in again, one hand buried in Rhys’s hair, tugging hard enough to pull him up, arching his back. Rhys increased his hold on the headboard spindles, savoring the friction and power Chase used.

“Come for me, Rhys. I want to feel you milk me dry!”

Rhys couldn’t have stopped his orgasm if his life depended on it. With a scream that seemed to tear loose from somewhere deep inside him, he slammed into Chase and came. A split second later, Chase faltered as he thrust, groaning his completion right behind Rhys’s own.

By the time he could focus again, Chase was kneeling beside him, pushing on his hip. “Come on, big guy. Turn on your side for me.”

Rhys turned, but that was about all the energy he seemed to have. Before he could ask why, though, he felt a damp cloth cleaning him from abs to the top of his ass. The pillow was moved away and a sheet draped over him. With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes again, taking his first look at Chase naked, and nearly stopped breathing. He was… beautiful! And hung, though his ass had already let him in on that little—or not so little—fact.

“I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?” Chase asked, his voice soft and tender, more so than usual.

“No. Wonderful,” Rhys mumbled, his words slurring slightly.

Chase smiled. The kiss Chase gave him was sweet, like what he thought a first kiss should be. “Sleep now. Nothing else exists until morning.”

The last thing Rhys knew was the light caress of Chase’s fingers against his arm and the gentle whisper of Chase’s breath against his chest.

C
HASE
LAY
awake, watching Rhys sleep, pain and regret filling him. He knew he’d just lost a piece of his heart to a man who, deep down, could never love him. Never truly respect him. Hell, Rhys hadn’t even really been with him; he’d called another man’s name as he came the second time.

How he’d let things get so out of hand, he had no clue, but with tears in his eyes and guilt eating his heart, he quietly slipped out of bed. Dressing as quickly and quietly as possible, he fled Rhys’s home, swearing he would find another tech person to help Rhys’s company as soon as possible.

How he could face Rhys after what had just happened, he didn’t know. But resolved to his fate—he was no man’s trick or placeholder—he drove home and cried himself to sleep.

C
HASE
WOKE
with a start. The sound of banging, then locks clicking, brought him out of the fitful sleep he’d been trapped in since he’d finally cried himself out. Still fully clothed, having crashed on the bed as he was when he’d fled Rhys’s the night before, he reached for the baseball bat he always kept by the nightstand, hoping it was just James using his key.

“He probably just overslept, pet. You know he goes out clubbing with some of his other friends.” Seth’s deep voice was soft, soothing.

“No, Seth. He’s not answering his cell. Simon and the others haven’t seen him today, and he didn’t go out with them last night. It’s after three in the afternoon, yet he was supposed to meet me at ten. So where is he?” That was James’s voice, but it was high and tight like it only got when he was scared.

Chase rounded the corner to find his best friend, James, and James’s fiancé, Seth Burns, heading straight for his bedroom.

“James? Seth?” Chase croaked. His voice was tight and scratchy, probably from the pointless crying the night before, or had it been earlier this morning? “What are you doing here?”

“Chase!” James cried, flinging himself down the short hall as fast as he could with his forearm crutches.

Chase released the bat and soon had his arms full of James. He looked past James to Seth, and with a weak voice asked, “What are you guys doing here, and why is he freaking out?”

“Five hours, Chase! That’s how long ago you were supposed to be at the studio to meet me. The private sitting was today, remember? Seth doesn’t like me to be alone with strangers in my studio, so you said you’d be there, but you never showed. Your cell goes straight to voice mail. Simon, Dale, Vaughn—no one has heard from you all day,” James rattled off, practically in one breath.

He could feel the pressure of Seth rubbing up and down James’s back as he held him.

“Calm down, hun. I’m right here, safe and sound. I just—” Chase bit off his words, having no idea how to explain why he hadn’t been where he was supposed to be.

James suddenly pushed him back, holding tight to his arms, looking him up and down with a curious expression on his handsome face. He cupped Chase’s cheeks, the tenderness of the motion nearly breaking his heart again. “Chase, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. I just had a rough night.” Looking past James to Seth, he murmured, “Can you get him settled? I’ll shower and be right out. I really am very sorry for upsetting you both.”

“James, come on. Let’s go sit down and wait for Chase,” Seth soothed, handing James’s crutches to him again.

Chase mouthed “thank you” to Seth before he fled to his room.

After a quick shower to get the scent of Rhys and sweat off, Chase quickly dressed in a simple T-shirt and a pair of old, threadbare jeans he kept for bumming around in. He didn’t feel up to much right then, but he reckoned more than sleep pants would be good, considering Seth was with James. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have worried about even that much.

After popping a couple of Tylenol, Chase headed out to find where his company was. He got as far as his kitchen, where he found not only James and Seth, but a mug of his favorite blonde roast coffee waiting for him.

“Thanks,” he offered, his voice soft. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for the coming conversation, but he would never turn James away, not even now.

All three men entered the living room, where Chase flopped into his favorite chair, giving James and Seth the couch.

“Chase,” James started tentatively. “What happened to you last night? Who hurt you?”

“What makes you think someone hurt me? I’m fine, just tired.”

James leaned forward, his face turning hard. “I know it was a guy that put you in this mood, Chase. My nose works just fine, and you, dear,” he continued, wrinkling his nose, “you smelled of sex when we got here. And, well, you look so sad. I didn’t even know you were dating someone, but whoever he is, he’s obviously not good enough for you if he hurt you.” James finished with a snort.

A slight smile tugged at his lips for a moment. God, he loved his BFF. Who else could call you out on having sex, snort, and insult an unknown man all in one breath?

“Jamie, I’m not dating anyone, so there is nothing to tell. I wasn’t holding out on you.”

“Ha! Don’t give me that crap. You don’t have one-night stands. You go clubbing, dance, and even hit on guys, but you never go home with any of them, so try again,” James snapped, his eyes almost as hard as his voice.

“Really?” Seth asked.

“God!” Chase barked, throwing his hands up. “Why does everyone think I’m a damn slut? Yes, really, Seth. If I take someone to bed, it’s after we’ve gotten to know one another a bit and I have real feelings for the person. Why is—never mind. The point, Jamie, is that no, I’m not dating anyone, and I’d really rather never see the person from last night again.”

Merely saying that much felt like picking at a not-quite-formed scab. Ignoring his abandoned mug, Chase rubbed his temples, trying to forget it was the same motion that had started everything with Rhys in the first place.

“Chase, yelling will not help. I only ask because of how you acted when James and I first started seeing one another. My apologies for making assumptions about you. If you aren’t seeing anyone, but you had sex and are now upset”—Seth’s voice dropped low, hard—“did someone attack you?”

James tensed, and Chase knew he had to stop the panic attack before it set in.

“No, Seth. I just let things get out of hand. Rhys didn’t hurt me like that.” Chase slapped his hand over his mouth as if he could contain the words that had already slipped out. “Forget I said that last part, please,” he cried.

“Rhys? As in our friend and bodyguard Rhys? But….” James’s voice trailed off. The mixed look of anger and confusion was not any better than the panic from before, in Chase’s opinion.

“Well, Chase is Rhys’s type, James. I could see him being interested, but I do not understand how the way the two of you acted before turned into sex, with you this upset after. Rhys would not force you,” Seth added with certainty.

Chase groaned loudly. “Please, just forget I said his name. I will find someone else to work for him, and you will simply have to accept that I won’t be around when he is if I can help it. Now, please, please, please, drop it,” he begged, silently trying to will the two in front of him to listen for once—not that he held much hope of it working.

“I can’t do that, Chase. Now, tell me why you need to back out of our agreement and what Rhys did to you to make you so upset? I mean, I know you don’t usually do one-offs, but….”

R
HYS
AWOKE
in increments, the sun pushing his consciousness to the surface against his will. His face was buried in the pillow he held crushed to his chest. Rhys pleasantly noted that it smelled of Antaeus and Chase. The memory of the night before had him hard and aching again before he opened his eyes. Rhys reached out, raising his head to look for Chase, hoping to entice the fiery little man into an encore, but the sheets were cold and empty beside him.

When he shifted to sit up and look around, his body reminded him of what he had allowed Chase to do to him. It had been years since he’d done anything but top—more than a decade, he thought. Sliding back down, Rhys drifted his right hand down his chest and abs to his cock as the night before played in his head. The way he’d kissed. The complete and heart-stopping way Chase had possessed his body. Rhys couldn’t remember ever being with someone so sensual or caring. It wasn’t just the ecstasy, but the massage and time spent prepping him, the cleanup afterward. Everything combined made waking up alone so crushing.