Page 69 of The Wounded Warrior

What a mess.

No one chatted. Avery just drove them to Rory’s, then helped him out of the truck. “Keep an eye on him, sailor. He’s had a rough day,” Avery murmured.

“Thanks for the ride.” Luke nodded, then wheeled over to the ramp for Rory to push him inside.

“Thanks for everything,” Rory said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, buddy. You have the insurance adjuster come to my place.”

“Will do.” Rory gave Avery a one-armed hug before coming to help Luke inside. Jesus, he was pale.

Luke needed to get him in a hot shower, maybe, check him for injuries.

That sounded like something that could totally happen before food.

“How was therapy, Luke? I forgot to ask.”

“Not too bad today. Good thing, too. At least I wasn’t on the bars when you called.”

“I’m sorry. I just knew y’all were the closest place from where I was.”

“I’m glad. I would have shot the bastard if he’d followed you in.”

“Good.” Rory made sure all the doors were locked. “I need… Are you hungry?”

“I can wait. Let’s get you changed. You bled a little.” Luke touched his lip to indicate where Rory must have bounced off a window or bit his lip or something.

“Did I?” Rory leaned in toward him. “Hey. Hey.”

“Hey.” He reached up to tug Rory down, wanting a kiss, and didn’t Rory give it to him, lips crashing down on his like there wasn’t a damn thing broken about him, like Rory believed he could take anything.

Luke slid his arm around Rory’s back, willing his damned body to prove it was true. He needed this man like he needed air.

“I want… I want to touch, Luke. I need it.”

Luke could damn near see the adrenaline flowing through Rory’s veins.

He nodded sharply. Yes. Now. “Bedroom.”

“Yes.” Rory led him back, stopping every few steps to touch him, kiss him. Those hands were still shaking, but Rory seemed to know what he needed, so Luke wasn’t gonna argue.

They shut the cats out of the bedroom, both of them shucking clothes as soon as the door closed behind them.

He was fucking proud of himself as he moved from chair to bed with relative grace, and Rory nodded as he did, the expression on the handsome face utterly appreciative.

“Are you going to think less of me if I beg to ride you?” Rory asked.

“No.” His heartbeat kicked into high gear, almost making him dizzy. “No, I think that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in ages.” Luke spread his arms, making himself what he hoped was an inviting target.

“Oh, Jesus, you got my mouth all dry. You’re so fine.” The words would make him growl, make him protest, except Rory wasn’t putting him on. The expression on Rory’s face was one of pure hunger.

Luke beckoned with one hand. “Come show me how bad you want it, babe.” He felt brave. Really fucking brave.

Rory crawled onto the bed, starting at his ankles with tiny little licks and sharp sucking kisses. Goddamn. Rory didn’t shy away from him at all.

It wasn’t gross, either. His injured legs got just as much attention as the rest of him, but not so much that he felt weird. Rory was just into him. Period.

He gave, too, stroking that heavy fall of gold hair, then rubbing Rory’s shoulders, hunting tension and working it out.

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