Laird's Choice by Remmy Duchene (management books to read .txt) 📕

ever want to forget where we started. We never want to go back there."

Laird smiled and reached in to press a kiss to the side of Race's head, and dinner continued.

"Oh man, you remember Cruella?" Rajan

questioned, waving his fork in the air.

"Cruella?" Race questioned.

"Her real name was Pricilla," Jamal, who'd heard the story many times, explained. "She ran the orphanage the boys were in as children."

"She tortured us!" Laird frowned. "The woman seemed as if she lived to make our lives miserable."

"It always seems to be like that." Xavier placed his fork against his plate and picked up his glass. "I don't understand how people like that get to work with children. I really don't get it."

"But you know what's messed up?" Savaro wanted to know. "When dad told us she died we were so sad about it. She never did have any kids of her own and I always wondered why."

The table that had been so lively slipped into

silence. It was as though they were all giving an unspoken moment of silence for a woman who'd been their den mother for so long. Though she was horrid, she was still a

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person. Laird lifted his glass to his lips.

"I called Winston earlier," Race broke the silence. "I think he was ripping his hair out."

The table erupted in laughter again. "Sounds about right," Savaro said.

"What is this?" Race poked the thing on his plate.

Laird laughed softly and reached over with his fork.

He cut the dumpling in two halves and then the halves into two. He cut a piece of jerked chicken off, slipped it onto his fork with a piece of the dumpling, and lifted it to Race's mouth.

"Open."

Race smirked at him, making his blood boil. He

leant closer to Race, almost tilting in his chair. Their eyes met as Race's lips opened as if in slow motion. He accepted the food and Laird pulled the fork back. Laird couldn't help himself then, he had to reach over and kiss him.

A throat was cleared from somewhere, and Laird

took a breath and eased back. His brothers, Jamal, and Xavier only laughed harder.

"You two want a room?" Xavier asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh, bite me!" Race told him.

Rajan laughed. "Oh, Laird! He'll fit in perfectly!"

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* * * *

Dinner was delicious as usual, and after the brothers had gone home with their men, Laird stood on the balcony outside his bedroom and stared off into the night. He remembered the way Race sat down at dinner and spoke with everyone else. There was a fear in his eyes but it hadn't remained there long. Whatever Xavier had said to Race in their conversation at the beginning of the night had worked. Soft footsteps behind him caused Laird to turn around. His eyes widened and his cock instantly stood at attention. He opened his mouth to say something—

anything—but still, he couldn't. The piercings, the tattoos, the muscles—Race was so damn sexy all he could do was shake his head. He tried moving but his knees wouldn't let him.

"You don't have to say anything. Just turn around, bend over, and take a deep breath." Race moved out of the bedroom, naked, and stood before Laird on the balcony.

"You're dirty." Laird laughed. But even as he said those words his fingers were busy undoing his belt. Soon he could feel the cool night air against his cheeks.

Smirking, he did as Race suggested. He turned around, gripped the railing, spread his legs, and glanced over his shoulder.

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"I've wanted this all evening," Race said.

Laird felt the cold wetness of lube being applied between his cheeks. He shifted his feet, spreading himself wider.

"There's no time for foreplay." Race's voice was rough as hot breath danced over Laird's ear then against his back. "But trust me, baby. You will enjoy this."

Laird laughed softly, pushing his eager ass

backward into Race's hands. Feeling Race's finger trail over his tender hole before impaling him caused Laird to let his head fall forward and groan. "Yes…" he whispered.

"Deeper."

"Why don't I do one better?" Race wanted to know, withdrawing his finger to caress Laird's ass.

Laird looked ahead, smiled, and closed his eyes.

The familiar feeling of Race's body moving closer, pressing against him caused him to grip the railing tighter. Slowly, he arched his butt out, and inhaled while Race slipped into him. He held his breath, waiting for the cock to reach its deepest point before breathing again. The fire in him exploded when Race dragged his fingers up Laird's body and buried them in his hair. The fingers tightened and pulled against Laird's hair until the top of his head was against Race's chest.

Race fused his lips to Laird's.

Grunting, Laird rutted back, grinding his hips into Race, taking the large cock deep. He growled, sucking on Race's tongue, relishing the wanton vulgarity of what they were doing. Laird wanted to feel the cold steel in Race's nipples on his tongue but each time he tried moving, Race held on tighter, fucking him harder. Their breathing was loud, fast, and exhilarating for Laird. Adrenaline, passion—

urgency surged through his body, making him wild.

"Don't move," Race whispered hoarsely, dipping his mouth to Laird's ear. "Give it to me."

"Beg…"

"Make me come." Race punched him on the shoulder. Laird moaned.

"That's not the magic word." Laird clenched his muscles around Race's cock.

"Shit…"

Faster, his hips moved. Laird rolled back into his lover, taking and loving the violence of the thrusts. When Race's teeth sunk into his shoulder, though he wasn't touching his cock, the muscle twitched anyway. Looking down, Laird watched as his dick exploded, sending spurts of white cum down two levels and disappearing into the dark to the ground.

"Race!"

Race licked at him. "I'm going to come for you, Laird… turn