Roughing the Kicker (Austin Troopers)

Chapter Twenty-four

C utter sat at home, absently channel-surfing in the hope of finding something to watch on TV. His sister had called, inviting him to go to a movie. Esteban was out of town working at a job site, so Leticia was bored. Cutter was bored, too, but the movie she suggested didn’t interest him, so he declined the invitation.

Lane had called, too. Cutter hadn’t heard from the hockey player since the night of the team’s holiday party, and he didn’t expect to. Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Lane was calling him, citing a busy schedule for not being in contact. He complained about a long flight back from Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada to play a team Cutter had never heard of and didn’t care about, all while lamenting that he hadn’t gotten a chance with the big club yet.

“You’ll get there,” he tried to assure Lane, but realized he didn’t care one way or another if the hockey player ever made it out of the minor leagues. They talked for a few more minutes while Cutter searched for a way to politely end the conversation. He got it when the doorbell rang. Thank goodness.

“I’ve got to go. Someone’s at the door,” Cutter told Lane. “Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow.” He doubted the hockey player would be waiting for the call that wouldn’t come.

Cutter checked his doorbell camera and saw that it was Rye standing on his front porch. If Lane’s call was unexpected—and it was—Rye showing up at his house took unexpected to a whole new level. He hurried to answer it.

“Hey,” he said. “What brings you here?”

“Can I come in?” Rye asked. He blew on his hands. “It’s cold out here.”

“Yeah.” Cutter opened the door wider to let Rye in. “Hard to believe a couple weeks ago we were wearing shorts, huh?” He closed the door

“That’s Texas for you, though,” Rye said. “If you don’t like it, wait five minutes. It’ll change.”

Cutter laughed at the familiar statement. “We can go into the living room to talk,” he said. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Rye shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I’m fine.” He followed Cutter into the living room. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me, too, since you’re here.” Cutter sat down. “Just having a quiet evening.” He decided not to mention that he’d been talking to Lane. “Is everything okay? I wasn’t expecting you.” No. He expected Rye to be at home with Kristen, his newly sober fiancée, and he hadn’t wanted to think about what that might mean.

“No,” Rye said. “I probably should have called first.”

“It’s fine,” Cutter assured him. “You’re always welcome here.”

“I appreciate that,” Rye said. “And everything you’ve done for me.”

Great. So he was here out of gratitude? One final ‘thank you’ before riding off into the sunset with Kristen? No. Cutter refused to believe that. His connection with Rye was too real. That, and he didn’t want to believe Rye could stay with Kristen. Now with everything that happened. “I told you, you’ve got a friend for as long as you need one.”

“A friend, right,” Rye said. “What if I want more, though?”

Had he heard that correctly? “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. What if I want more from you than friendship?” Rye repeated. “Because Kristen and I are done, and for real this time,” he said. “I picked her up from treatment and drove her home. Helped her get settled in. And then I ended things.”

It was what Cutter had wanted to hear for a very long, but now that he was, he didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry.” No. He wasn’t. “I’m sure that was difficult.”

“A little,” Rye said. “There’s a lot of history. She took it well, though. She knew it was coming.” He nodded, as if affirming that to himself. “We have some stuff to figure out. Property, that kind of thing. It’s done, though. We both know it’s over. And that’s why I’m here.”

Rye looked at Cutter, his expression earnest. “I know I’ve kind of strung things along, and you’ve gotten tired of it, but if you’re still interested, if there’s still a chance, I’ve figured it out. I want to be with you, Cutter. I want to see where this goes. You know, if you want me?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Cutter asked. “Because you do.” And to shut Rye up, Cutter kissed him.

~&~

If Rye had any doubt that this was real, and it where he belonged, those doubts were erased when Cutter’s lips met his. Sure, they’d shared a few kisses before, but Rye was always holding back. Fighting something. Repressing something.

Now, finally, he could be done with that. No more fighting the obvious.

Kissing Cutter was better than kissing anyone else. Ever.

Until he abruptly pulled away. “Is this too much? Too fast?” Cutter asked, his eyes searching Rye’s. “Do you want to stop? Because we can take this is as slow as you want.”

Slow? No. He wanted fast. “Now who talks too much?” Rye teased, before his lips met Cutter’s again. Fortunately, Cutter got the hint, and instead of pulling back and talking again, he deepened the kiss.

Yes. This was it. This was what he’d been wanting.

Rye’s body responded immediately. For months, he’d struggled to get aroused enough to satisfy Kristen. Now, his cock sprang to attention. Like it did every time Cutter touched him.

Like it did with Max all those years ago.

“Oh, God, Cutter.” The words came out in a breathless gasp. “I want you so bad.”

“That’s what I want, too. What I’ve always wanted,” Cutter whispered. “For so long, but I thought I never had a chance with you.”

“Ssh. No more talking.” To silence him, Rye kissed him again. “We’ve wasted so much time, but I don’t want to talk about that. Take me to bed. Make love to me.”

Cutter reached for Rye’s hand and ked him to the bedroom. Not the guest room where Rye had stayed a few weeks before, but to the master bedroom. As soon as they were they fell on the bed, in a mess of limbs and discarded clothes.

“God, you’re so beautiful. So perfect,” Rye said, closing his hand around Cutter’s erection. “Please, love me. And don’t ever stop.”

Cutter did, bringing Rye to heights of passion he never thought was possible. This was real. This was home. And Rye never wanted to leave.

Later, much later, Rye studied Cutter’s body as they lay next to each other, and he concluded it was perfect in nearly every way. From his arms, which were muscular, but not overly so, to his perfectly toned abs. Then there was the little smattering of dark hair on his chest, tapering down to his narrow waist, and to the promised land below.

Cutter was relaxed now, his cock in a state of rest, and a satisfied smile on his face. He should be satisfied, Rye decided, because the pleasure Cutter had just given him was greater than any he had ever experienced in his life.

“What are you thinking about?” Cutter asked.

“How sexy you are,” Rye said. “How incredible that was. How happy I am to finally be here, at this point, with you. And how much of an idiot I’ve been to wait so long.”

“Wow. That’s a lot.” Cutter turned on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, facing Rye. “First, you’re not an idiot. You’ve been dealing with a lot of difficult things, and there’s been a lot of feelings and emotions to process. You’re entitled to take the time you need to do that,” he said. “I am, however, very glad you finally did, and that the end result brought you here.”

“You’ve been so patient. Probably more than I deserve.”

“No,” Cutter said. “You deserved patience. You deserved safety. You deserved love.” His lips met Rye’s. “And now you have it.”