Waiting for Ty (15 page)

And as much as Ty liked Landon in blue jeans or nothing at all, he had to admit the man did a great job of filling out a tux. Down to the black onyx earring that Meredith had insisted he wear instead of his silver hoop. On the glass elevator down from the hotel room to the banquet room, Landon fidgeted with his cuffs.

Ty had never loved anyone so much. The tux, Landon’s nerves. Ty knew how difficult this was for him. The gesture settled in his heart turning him to mush. Ty grabbed his hand, stilling him, hoping to calm him. He wanted Landon to enjoy tonight, not just tolerate it. Weaving their fingers together, he said, “Thanks for doing this.”

Landon squeezed his hand and grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

The elevator dinged and stopped. Their fingers slipped apart when the doors opened. Two other couples joined them, and Ty recognized one of them. Steve Wells, a reporter from Houston.

Introductions were made and Steve asked Landon, “What paper are you with?”

Landon shook his head. “I’m not a reporter.”

“He’s a cancer researcher at MD Anderson,” Ty added proudly.

Steve’s smile dropped. “Really?”

Landon nodded, and Ty held his breath, waiting for...something.

“We just learned last week that my mom has colon cancer,” Steve said, his voice rough with emotion.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Landon replied, his voice low and soothing, his expression sympathetic.

“They say it’s in the early stages. They caught it during a routine colonoscopy.”

Okay. Not what Ty had been expecting, even though this conversation replayed itself in various guises when people learned what Landon did for a living.

Landon raised his eyebrows, and his tone became more upbeat. “Then her prognosis is good.”

Steve nodded vigorously. “That’s what the doctors are saying.” But there was uncertainty in his eyes and his voice, as if he were seeking confirmation from Landon.

The elevator doors opened on the ground floor and they headed toward the banquet room. Steve and Landon discussed Steve’s mom—who her doctor was, whether he was any good (and according to Landon, he was one of the best), her treatment course. By the time they entered the dimly lit banquet room, they’d exchanged business cards. Hopefully the rest of the evening would go as smoothly. Ty didn’t care if he won or not. Getting through the evening without any drama would be prize enough.

They bought beers at the cash bar and mingled. More introductions, talk about the conference that had preceded the awards ceremony and, of course, politics. When people found out what Landon did, science worked its way into the conversation and more business cards were exchanged, because cancer was big news and reporters liked having reliable sources at their fingertips. During dinner they sat at one of the tables reserved for his paper. After two beers and no confrontations, Ty was beginning to relax.

Until Rona Mayhew rested a hand on his thigh uncomfortably close to his groin. He stiffened. Had she not understood the significance of Landon’s presence? Granted, he hadn’t introduced him as his boyfriend or partner or significant other, but still... He slipped his hand under the table to brush hers off, leaned a little closer to her and murmured, “I’m with Landon.”

Curling her fingers tightly around his, she spoke a little too loudly for his comfort. “Good of you to finally break
that
story.”

Seriously? She was pissed because he hadn’t told her about Landon? He didn’t get it. Yeah, she’d hinted a couple of times that she was interested in Ty. But he’d never done anything about it. He didn’t date coworkers. Even if he had, Rona wasn’t his type. She was a bitch. And not a hard-driving, hard-working, assertive bitch. That kind of woman he could go for. No, she was a junior-high-school-mean-girl bitch. Not that he’d had much experience with those types in junior high or even high school. The girls he’d gone to school with hadn’t had time to play those games. But he’d met some of them in college. A couple of the sororities had packed them in.

He preferred not to get into it with her, so he shrugged, wrested his hand away and turned his back to her so he could focus on Landon, who was deep in conversation with Ty’s editor. The noise level dropped, and Ty looked to the dais. It was time for the awards.

Landon leaned over to Ty and spoke in a low voice. “Nervous?”

Ty shook his head. “No.” Then he grinned sheepishly and nodded. “Yeah. A little.”

Landon’s warm hand found his under the white tablecloth. His thumb massaged Ty’s palm, soothing, even arousing as he imagined it circling the head of his dick. Ty couldn’t wait to return to the room. In fact, if he thought Landon and his editor would let him get away with skipping out, he’d do it in a New York minute.

The ceremony was long. Long introductions, longer speeches, long acceptances.

When Ty’s category was announced, Landon stopped stroking and squeezed his hand.

“And the winner is...”

Ty held his breath.

“Tyler Coil.” The applause began and the presenter spoke above it. “The
Austin Journal.
‘Follow the Money: The Texas Enterprise Fund.’”

Adrenaline hummed in his ears. He saw rather than heard Landon say, “Told you.”

His editor was the first to shake his hand. He made his way to the podium amid more handshakes and back-slapping. When he stepped behind it, the applause continued with a few cheers. Landon, standing with everyone at the
Austin Journal’s
tables, was grinning as if he’d won the award himself.

He accepted the crystal scroll and began thanking the awards committee. The room quieted. He quickly thanked his editor and the paper and recognized the other nominees for their outstanding work.

Wending his way back to the table, he shook more hands. His mouth was so dry he could barely force out his “thanks.” He finally sat down. Immediately he grabbed his glass and swallowed the little bit of room-temperature water left over from dinner.

Landon draped his arm across the back of Ty’s chair and gave him his own glass of water, which Ty gratefully drank. His warm, firm fingers grasped the nape of Ty’s neck. “Congratulations.” Then leaning in, he murmured in Ty’s ear, “Can’t wait to celebrate.”

Ty’s throat ached with emotion. Landon’s openness, his willingness to endure a crowd of strangers to support Ty, his joy at Ty’s success. So many other gestures, small and large. Contentment washed over him like warm gentle waves on a balmy afternoon, cleansing his soul of his parents’ agonizing rejection. He couldn’t remember ever being so happy.

“Me, too,” he said softly. “Me, too.”

Chapter Eighteen

While the evening had gone better than Landon had expected, being social had drained him. Meeting Ty’s colleagues had been interesting and easier than he’d expected, probably because Ty had been with him, easing him through introductions, not allowing any awkward lapses in conversations. Except that one woman had stared daggers at him. What was her name? Mayview? Something like that.

When Ty had accepted his award, Landon had been so proud. It meant everything to Landon that Ty had wanted to share that moment with him. And something had changed tonight. After Ty had returned to the table with his award, Landon had felt a lightness in him that hadn’t been there in their precious few months together.

Inside their dark, quiet room, the strain of the night began to ebb. He was finally alone with Ty. Time to congratulate him properly.

Housekeeping had folded back the bed linens and opened the drapes to the sparkling city lights spread below them. It was the perfect setting to end the night.

Ty was as wired as if he’d drunk a pot of coffee. Pacing, stopping to stare out the window, pacing again, perching on the edge of the bed, then jumping up and pacing some more. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while, even if Landon hadn’t made plans for him.

Landon slipped off his jacket, tossed it over the chair at the small desk. He untied his black tie and unbuttoned his shirt. When he was done, Ty was staring out the window, his back to Landon.

Landon pocketed the lube and condom in his pants, then crossed the room and stopped inches behind him. Ty’s demeanor changed infinitesimally, his muscles tightening in anticipation. Landon brushed his lips just below Ty’s dark hair. He took his time undressing him, kissing, caressing each bit of exposed skin until Ty stood nude in front of the window. The slow seduction had done nothing to calm Ty. But that hadn’t been the point. Landon liked him this way. Vulnerable. If he could call a man as powerful, as self-confident as Ty, vulnerable.

How had he gotten so lucky? That this man loved him, was willing to risk everything for him. That he trusted him enough to bare his body, his heart, his soul.

Ty met his eyes in the window’s reflection, and his lips curled in a slight smile. “You’re a little overdressed.”

Landon dropped a kiss at the junction of Ty’s shoulder and neck. “You like me this way.” He gently tugged at Ty’s ear with his teeth. “You like it when I just unzip and fuck you.”

Ty swallowed but didn’t deny it.

Landon flattened his hands against the V of Ty’s groin, and Ty’s stiff cock jerked as if he’d touched it. Landon chuckled softly. He slipped one leg between Ty’s and nudged his feet apart. Then Landon grasped Ty’s wrists and lifted his arms above his head, placing his palms flat against the glass. Landon stepped back and admired his handiwork.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He let one finger drift down Ty’s spine, and Ty shivered. Landon continued down into the cleft of his ass. Ty’s muscles clenched when Landon rimmed the hole. The window reflected Ty’s blissful expression. His breath fogged a small circle on the glass, softening his parted lips.

Landon sighed.
All mine.
He’d never been so grateful to beer and Longhorn basketball.

He kissed a trail across Ty’s shoulders, taking his time, tasting, reveling in the firm, smooth skin, the taut muscles. Ty’s unique, musky scent mingled with the lingering spiciness of his shaving cream. Ty’s murmured
fucks
and low gasps let Landon know what he liked, where Landon should touch, kiss, graze, bite. His nipples were incredibly responsive. Landon flattened his palms on them, and Ty’s cock jerked. He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers and watched the reflection of Ty’s cock bouncing in the window.

He finally unzipped and freed his own penis. But instead of entering Ty, he slid his length along Ty’s cleft, indulging, drawing it out, torturing Ty as much as he tortured himself. But it would be oh-so good when he finally sank inside him.

Minutes, hours. He didn’t know how long he worshipped Ty’s body before the altar of the city lights. When he slowly slipped inside, both men held their breath until Landon was fully seated, Ty’s warm hard ass cradled against Landon’s hips.

Love
. The word resonated through his body, flowed through his veins.

Landon thrust. He slipped his hand around Ty’s waist and found his cock, wrapping his lubed fingers tightly around the steely flesh, stroking in time to the driving force of his penis plunging and withdrawing.

So close, but he held back, relishing the anticipation. The buildup, the in and out, the friction of that tight passage was every bit as good as the orgasm, maybe better because it lasted longer. As long as he could hold out.

When he reached the point of no return, Landon rasped, “Now.”

Seconds later, Ty’s warm, slippery semen spilled over Landon’s hand, and his contractions massaged Landon’s cock, adding such intensity to Landon’s orgasm that it was almost enough to make him believe in a God. Because there was something mystical about such powerful, all-consuming bliss. But it was that way every time he fucked Ty. Every single time he came.

Ty stumbled to the bed and crashed on top of the sheets. Landon stripped off the rest of his clothes and tumbled in next to him, their shoulders touching. Contented, satiated, Landon drifted.

“Told my family,” Ty said.

Landon jerked from the disjointed thoughts and images flickering through his sleep-ready mind. He’d missed something. “Huh? Say again.”

“I stopped by my parents’ place on the way to Dallas. I told them about us.”

Landon studied his profile. He didn’t seem upset. Did that mean they were okay with it? Was that the change he’d sensed in Ty this evening?

“How’d it go?” Landon held his breath. When Ty didn’t answer right away, his chest tightened painfully.

“About like you’d expect.”

Hope deflated on a sigh. “Not good,” Landon said flatly.

“They said I’m welcome to come back if I decide to get help.”

“I’m sorry.” Hope reared its persistent head. “What about Kurt?”

Ty snorted and turned on his side, his expression resigned. “One confrontation was enough.”

“He might—”

“Huh-uh. Give it up.”

“I would have gone with you.”

“I know, but I’m pretty sure that would have made it worse.”

He knew Ty was right, but he hated that he’d faced his family alone, that he’d been dealing with their rejection these past few days all alone. He groped the sheets, searching for Ty’s hand. When he found it, he slipped his fingers between Ty’s and squeezed. “What now?”

Ty shrugged. “We get on with our lives.”

Landon thought about what that meant.
We get on with our lives.
He liked having Ty around on the weekends. Even if they spent the weekend working—Landon in one room, Ty in another. It was nice just knowing Ty was there. If he got stuck or needed a break, he’d wander to where Ty was working, and Ty would put away his story and they’d talk for a while or eat or watch TV or go for a run. Landon missed having him around during the week, not while he was at work, but at home in the evenings.

Landon propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at Ty, his heart picking up speed at what he was about to ask. “You wanna move in with me?” The words spilled out, tripping over his nerves. But not like when he’d told Ty he loved him. This was deliberate. He’d thought about it since Ty had decided to make a go at their relationship. Over the last month he’d thought of little else. But with the six-month detour to Albuquerque, asking Ty to move in with him had seemed impractical. He figured it would be best to wait until he returned to Houston.