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The group started tossing out their favorite ingredients, then debated how they’d pair.
“Maybe we’ll have a bake-your-own party someday,” Harry suggested. “Rory and I can make a huge batch of the dough and divvy it out, and you guys can add your own ingredients.”
“We’re not children,” Owen grumbled, but his protest sounded halfhearted at best.
“Speak for yourself,” Rueben replied. “It doesn’t sound any different from make-your-own pizza night. Count me in.”
Tyler nodded and said, “Me too.”
Owen averted his gaze and exhaled. “Okay, fine. It sounds like a lot of fun.”
The conversation shifted to other topics while they ate, though Ivan noticed the forks were moving slower. He shoved back from the table when he couldn’t eat another bite. Rory pushed back too and offered to help tidy up.
“We leave the food out because we’ll nosh on it while we play. Unless you think something will spoil,” he added quickly, giving Rory an excuse to follow him if he chose.
Smartly, Rory reclaimed his seat next to Harry and finished eating the few bites on his plate. Ivan needed a few minutes to get his thoughts under control because all he wanted to do was run everyone off so he could have Rory to himself.
“Hey,” Finley said softly behind him.
Ivan turned around and smiled at his friend. “Hey yourself.”
“You doing okay with all the extra attention on you?”
That Finley knew him so well didn’t come as a surprise. They’d lived together for most of the five years Finley had worked on the ranch. But their hallway run-ins had had vastly different outcomes than the ones Ivan had shared with Rory. “Yeah,” Ivan said with a smirk. “It will blow over as soon as they find a new target.”
Finley grinned. “True.” He inched closer. “Surely, you’d share one of those special cookies with a good friend?”
Ivan wouldn’t share them with his own mother. “Not you too.” He assumed Rory had put them away in his bedroom when he got cleaned up for poker, but Ivan was wondering if he should stash them in the small safe he kept in his bedroom closet. There was no way he could keep his eyes on everyone at once. Ivan handed him a golden blondie square and said, “Eat this and quit busting my chops…even though I deserve it for how I acted last year.”
Finley bit into the brownie, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “What were we saying?”
Yeah, his guy could bake.His guy?Oh, hell no. He’d only known Rory for a week. It was way too soon for those types of thoughts. A year from now would be too soon. Ivan had been in love one time, and it had nearly destroyed him. He’d gotten by on hookups since he’d gotten out of jail six years ago and had zero plans to change his habits now. Rory was on the same page. They were going to engage in a horny spring fling, then go their separate ways.
Ivan would remind himself of that over the next few hours when he pretended not to be frustrated by the lingering crowd. The fellas had been too eager to retrieve card tables and folding chairs from the main ranch house. A few of the guys pushed back the furniture in the living room to set the tables up for tournament-style play. Ivan had a fun night, though he couldn’t remember a single conversation or the outcome of the games. Ivan was fully attuned to Rory—his laughter, smiles, and the glances he’d sneak in Ivan’s direction when he thought no one was looking. Everyone was looking, which was why none of the assholes would go home.
That is until Harry deployed her backup distraction technique. She said he’d recognize it when it happened, and boy did he ever. Harry sat on Dylan’s lap, carded her fingers through his hair, and asked if he was ready to go home. Insert pin drop, mouse fart, or any other idiom about quiet noises sounding loud. The group held a collective breath while waiting for Dylan’s response. He looked up at her with affection radiating from his eyes. She’d made her claim, and he couldn’t be happier.
“I’ve been ready,” he said.
Harry kissed his upturned lips to a chorus of catcalls, clapping, and well wishes. Everyone was eager to find out the details about how and when they’d taken the leap. They trailed out the door after the happy couple as if they were pied pipers playing a merry tune. Ivan turned the dead bolt in the front door, then hurried to do the same on the entrances off the kitchen and the utility room before one of the crew doubled back for leftovers.
Rory trailed behind him silently, and Ivan worried he’d misread the situation. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Rory biting his lips but not seductively. Ivan stopped in front of him, gently tugged the abused flesh free, and placed a soft kiss on his mouth.
“Interview practice first?” Rory suggested.
“There’s no way in hell I could concentrate. Grab the cookies and lube and anything else you want for the night. I’m not turning you loose until at least dawn.”
Rory smiled but shook his head. Ivan’s heart sank. Had he changed his mind? “Everything’s already up in your room. I dropped it inside when I took a shower.”
That was the only encouragement Ivan needed. Urgency surged and swelled inside him, making his heart race, his chest expand, and his fingers twitch. Ivan felt acutely aware of every hair follicle, cell, and nerve ending that made up his body, and they were of one accord, united in a singular purpose—to conquer. Not with swords and shields and in his bedroom instead of on a battlefield. Ivan would volley promises of carnal delights, not grenades. He would use his touch to incite pleasure, not pain. Ivan hadn’t lied to Rory when he said he wasn’t a conqueror because he’d never been brave enough to give in to his instincts. That morning was the first time he’d really come close to living out the version of himself in his fantasies. Ivan had wanted, and he’d taken.
That same instinct gripped him by the balls, but Ivan didn’t give in to his body’s demands. Instead of tossing Rory over his shoulder and sprinting up the stairs, Ivan laced his fingers through Rory’s and tugged him into his embrace. He didn’t maul and plunder Rory’s upturned mouth. Ivan offered gentle kisses until the supple flesh trembled against his. Rory’s next breath came out on a simpering sigh, a surrender Ivan’s baser instincts wanted to explore. Ivan’s suppressed urgency escaped in a throaty growl before he nipped Rory’s plush bottom lip, teasing a sexy shiver from his lithe body.
Everything Ivan wanted was his for the taking, but it wasn’t enough. The situation called for restraint and finesse, though he didn’t understand why or how he even knew it. Having his instincts at war was a new and confusing sensation, and the timing couldn’t be worse. Ivan had expected this moment ever since they parted ways in the cramped bathroom, and he’d be damned if he let anyone, including himself, ruin it.All in due time, big fella.Ivan wanted to seduce Rory’s mind before conquering his body.
As if feeling the shift inside him, Rory broke their kiss and looked at him. Arctic eyes shimmered with desire, but Ivan could read the confusion in Rory’s furrowed brow. He’d read Ivan’s changed approach as doubt. Instead of verbally communicating just how wrong Rory was, Ivan recaptured his mouth and backed him toward the staircase. The maneuver exercised trust, navigating the steps while relying on someone else to guide you, and Rory executed it perfectly. He gave himself fully to the kiss, licking into Ivan’s mouth, twining and twirling their tongues together, never breaking their embrace to check his surroundings even once. Rory stepped back when Ivan advanced forward, their bodies pressed tightly together in a symbiotic dance of senses. Ivan found Rory’s trust illogically hotter than anything he’d experienced with other men, an aphrodisiac for a body already primed to fuck.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Ivan stopped and pressed Rory against the wall. Rory arched his neck, presenting a column of flesh Ivan couldn’t resist, though his kisses were much gentler than the ones that had left angry red marks. Ivan swiped his tongue over the abrasions, then softly bit Rory’s earlobe.
