When Love Takes Over Ch. 10

I don't know what I was expecting as a response. Since the hug on my return home, I had barely seen him, but he had been warm. But now, as I twirled showing off my outfit? Nothing.

"You look nice," I said, mainly to fill the awkward silence. I mean he did look great, but then again when didn't he?

"Do you have any beer?" he asked.

"You want a beer, now? Before we head out?"

"Yeah. Might as well get Saturday night started."

"Okay," I said heading to the fridge. "Stella Artois okay?"

"Sounds good," he said before downing it. "That hit the spot. Have any more?"

For better or worse, I did have another two which he also chugged before we left. We took his truck, but I insisted on driving. I hadn't had any real expectations about tonight other than I was looking forward to hanging out with Chance and having some fun. I apparently had set my expectations too high.

We drove in silence. After a few failed attempts at starting a conversation, I had given up and had settled for finding a good radio station. Periodically, I would feel the sensation of being stared at and would look over to find that Chance was indeed staring at me, but the moment I glanced in his direction, he would look away.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"Fine. I'm fine."

After several of those pointless exchanges I gave up.

Eventually we reached Shreveport, and thanks to GPS quickly navigated to Central. After we paid our cover, checked out our options (settling on the country side), and settled in with a couple of beers, things perked up. While not quite back to normal, Chance seemed in a better mood and if the conversation didn't exactly flow, it wasn't a painful crawl. I was a bit surprised at the rate he was drinking beers, but since they were putting him a happier place, I didn't protest. He eventually unbent enough to hit the dance floor. I had a taken some ballroom dancing classes, and though my two step was rusty, especially since I wasn't used to following, we were soon sailing across the floor with only minor missteps.

But after a few fast numbers, a slow one started, We've Got Tonight. When the first slow notes played, Chance moved toward the bar, but I had always loved that song.

"Come on, stay," I pleaded. "I love this song." He sighed, and then turned and pulled me into his arms. The D.J. was playing my favorite version, the Bob Seger one, and I closed my eyes and leaned into Chance as we swayed. I couldn't help myself and sang along as we danced. As the end of the song neared, I opened my eyes. Chance was a few inches taller than me and was looking down at me. The look in his eyes made my heart catch and before I lost my nerve, I reached up, cradled the back of his head in my hands and kissed him.

It was if time stood still. It was magic. He tasted like beer, and the bar was kind of a dive, and the song was schmaltzy, and it was still magic. I pressed closer to him, and he opened to me. I could feel his hard arms crossing behind me, crushing me to him as his mouth opened further. Eventually, I felt someone jostling us and realized the song had changed to another up tempo number. I released his head and moved backwards a step. Chance looked dazed.

"I think I'm going to get that beer now. Do you want one?" he said. I nodded no. I followed him through the crowd to the bar. It took a while for him to catch the bartender's attention. I was quite frankly annoyed. We had shared an amazing kiss on the dance floor and instead of following it up with another, Chance needed to get just another beer. I waited off to the side a bit and watching the dancers, I wasn't aware when he joined me.

"Hey," he said, chugging the beer. "It's getting late. We should head back.'

"Fine," I said. "I've had about enough fun for one night."

We walked silently back to the truck. The drive back was equally silent, but I was seething on the inside. What was this shit? And then I felt it again, his stare. But I knew when I turned back to him, he would look away. By this time, we were very close to home, but I was through with this bullshit. Noticing a farm road that lead down a field coming up on the right, I slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel violently turning down that road. The truck bounced up and down as I drove along the field to the fence row at the back. I again slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a shuddering halt before. turning off the ignition.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I yelled, turning to Chance. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

He looked at me with wild eyes. Without replying, he fumbled with his seatbelt, through the door open and stepped out of the truck. He was moving slowlier than usual after all that unaccustomed beer, and so I made it out of my restraint and had run around the front of the truck just as he made it out of the passenger side. I got up in his face.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"You are. You're my problem," he cried. And then his arms shot out grabbing my shoulder pulling me to him, and his pressed his mouth to mine, hard. If our kiss at the prom had been sweet, and our kiss on the Central dance floor magic, this one was nothing but lust, nothing but animal instinct. I was instantly hard as he trapped me between his body and the side of the truck. And he was too. He ground his erection again mine as his mouth devoured mine.

He pulled back for a moment, and I whimpered in disappointment, but that ended as he gripped my shirt and ripped it open, the pearl snaps yielding instantly. Before I could register that, he was one my nipple, teasing it, licking it suckling it. Then, his big hands grasped my waist, throwing me through the open passenger door onto the seat. Chance, not fumbling now, had my jeans unfastened and around my knees before I could react. And then, oh god, his warm wet mouth was on my straining cock.

It felt so good, his rough hands at its base, his warmth surrounding me. I was dimly aware that I was going to disappoint him because it was so good, I wouldn't be able to last. I tried to warn him I was closed, but I could only whimper, and as the hot salty seed shot from me, he moaned and swallowed it, nursing at my cock until it was a limp as the rest of me. I sank into the seat, boneless, as he pulled away. I had just enough left in me to pull up my jeans.

He looked so sexy. Eyes wild with lust, his lips swollen, with a sheen of my seed still on them. But as I sat up, and moved toward him, the walls went down. His eyes shuttered, and he turned away toward the dark field.

"Chance," I said. He didn't answer. "Chance," I said again, stepping toward him and putting my hand on his shoulder. He turned and caught me low in an embrace so strong I stumbled. His arms wrapped around me, and his head rest on my shoulder. I stroked his hair like one would stroke a scared pet.

"Talk to me," I whispered into his hair. Still he was silent. After a bit, I led him around to the back of the truck. Releasing him, I lowered the bed, and he sat down. I went around the truck, closing the doors, and turning off the lights. I knew he kept a blanket behind the seats, so I grabbed, and went back around to the bed of the truck, where he was still sitting in silence. I spread the blanket in the bed, then crawled into the truck, motioning for Chance to join me where I sat with my legs stretched before me and my back against the cab.

With a sigh, he settled against me, his arms going around my torso and his head settling on my chest. I rested my chin against his head, the feel of his short buzz cut against my cheek was distracting, sending signals straight to my cock which was beginning to stir once again.

"I always did want to go parking in the back forty under the stars with a hot guy," I said. "Never knew it would take this long, but it was worth the wait." I heard a faint chuckle from Chance, but still he was silent. I settled in, enjoying the slight breeze in the hot night, the light from the twinkling stars, and the feel of Chance against me. I could wait until he was ready to talk. I could wait all night like this.

I don't know how long we sat, but eventually, he pulled up and sat away from me a bit. From the light of the stars, I could make out the plans of his face as he spoke.

"Sorry, about tonight...I just..." he started. "Shit," he said, rubbing his hand over his head, "I was always bad at this stuff. It's I was planning on this, any of this. But when you came out to night looking like a walking wet dream, I just lost it."

I was going to speak, but got distracted by his last comment. Chance thought I looked like a walking wet dream? Before I could speak, he continued.

"You have to understand, I've never done relationships. When I left this place, I wasn't ready to admit to myself I was gay, but I wanted to explore. I thought the Navy was the way out of this place, the way to my dreams, and it was at first. I had a lot of fun, and I finally accepted who I was. But...after a bit, I was ready to settle down, but with who? Most of the time I was in the military, Don't Ask Don't tell was in effect. It was easy enough to find someone to fool around with, but most of the guys I knew weren't willing to risk a relationship. That's a lot harder to hide. I tried dating some civilians, and there was one guy..." here he broke off for a long minute, turning to look into the distance. "...but it got to be too much...the time gone, and when we were together, we had to be discrete...he just couldn't take being my dirty little secret. After that, I guess I can up on finding somebody. I didn't want to leave the military, and by the time Don't' Ask Don't Tell was repealed, I was pretty set in my ways. And when I left, I was ready to come home. I knew there was slim pickings around here, but I didn't care. I had Momma to take care off and the farm, and that was enough.

Then you came back to town. I don't know what I expected. Part of me was hoping you'd be some citified snob who had forgot your raising that I could ignore. Part of me was hoping you'd turn out to be a convenient fuck buddy. But I didn't expect us to be friends. I didn't expect to fall for you. And then that fucking prom..." Here he paused again to rub his hands over his face and hair.

"The whole night, I told myself to be cool, we were just friends, but I couldn't help myself. And when you ran back to New Orleans the next day like nothing had happened, I felt like a fool."

I made a noise of protest. He held up his hand, silencing me, "I know. I know why you went, why you had to go. It's not that you went...It's just that it made me realize that you're not really part of this place anymore. I've come home, and I want to stay here, but you're different. I realized this place isn't big enough for you anymore...not that it ever was. I decided we should just be friends...that was enough...but when I saw you tonight..." he trailed off.

I moved over to him, putting my finger to his lips. I shifted until I was straddling him, sitting in his laps, my knees on either side of his hips.

"I don't have any answers," I said. "I've spent most of the past year...Hell, the past few years in a state of confusion. But here's what I know," I continued, pausing just long enough to kiss him. "I know I'm here in the starlight with a hot guy who thinks I'm a walking wet dream." I kissed him again. "I know that I want you more than I've wanted anyone in a very long time. I don't know what tomorrow holds or the day after, or the day after. But tonight, it doesn't matter. Tonight it's just us."

I leaned forward, kissing him deeply this time. He was hesitant at first, then he opened to me and his arms tightened around me. I could feel his erection grow beneath me as I ground mind against him. I broke away. "Let's go home," I said. He nodded.

We drove the short distance to my house in silence, but it wasn't the tense one of before. His hand held my free one, and he looked at me openly now, desire written openly in his eyes. The silence lasted even as I led him into my bedroom. "I don't have...supplies," I said, breaking away from a kiss. "I wasn't expecting this."

"That's okay," he said. "I want to take this slow, anyway."

We undressed each other slowly, caressing skin, feeling muscle. I had seen him shirtless, many times, but getting to touch that hard, tanned muscle, to taste it was an entirely different matter. And, unlike his rough handling of earlier, treated me as if I were some delicate creation made of porcelain. As the clothing fell away, he delicately touched my flesh, making me shiver in anticipation. We spent the night exploring each other with hands and lips, with touches and kisses, until we finally came together, our cocks gripped tightly in his huge hands. Afterwards, he enfolded me into his arms, and we slept.

When I woke the next morning, it took me minute to process what had happened and why I felt a sense of loss as my hand felt an empty spot beside me on the bed. But before I could fret, I realized I heard sounds in the kitchen and could smell coffee wafting down the hall. I grabbed my jeans from the floor and pulled them on before padding barefoot to the kitchen. Chance was dressed, but his shirt unbuttoned. He stood standing at the sink, looking out the window with a mug of coffee in his hands. He heard me enter, turned and smiled. Any potential awkwardness I was fearing dissipated in the warmth of that smile.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," I returned as I stumbled to pour my own mug of coffee. Afterglow or not, I'm not a morning person.

"I would have made breakfast, but it's getting late. I should head home before Momma starts to worry."

"I'm pretty sure your mother knows exactly where you are...and what you've been up to?"

He blushed. "I'm sure you're right, but I still need to get home and help her start on lunch. You are coming to church with us right? And lunch after?"

I thought of the work I had to do before I left tomorrow. I thought of trying to sit through a religious service next to the man who had blow me in a stranger's field. I thought of trying to eat lunch under Miss Pauline's knowing gaze. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," I said, earning another bright smile. There was a lot I was willing to endure to make Chance smile.

I enjoyed my Sunday, but I had to cut my visit short after lunch. I invited Chance over that night, but he refused, citing errands and an early morning. But any doubt that his refusal was a revival of his after-prom disappointment was dispelled by his enthusiastic goodbye kiss.

"How long are you going to be gone," he said after pulling away.

"At least a week. Maybe longer."

"I'm going to miss you," he said before pulling me close for another long kiss. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught movement in the lace curtains hung in the living room window.

When I got to New Orleans, I was pleased with the progress so far, but I realized I would need to stay for at least a couple of weeks. Both Ben and Reed offered their guest rooms, but I settled on an extended stay hotel in Metairie. It wasn't cheap, but I wanted my privacy, and I had the option of extending my stay through the completion of the project which was looking like it would finish ahead of schedule in late September.

When Chance learned how long I would be staying, he was disappointed, but took it in stride and arranged for mowing my lawn and keeping track of the house while I was away. He even engaged his mother's cleaning lady to come by every couple of weeks to keep the dust at bay. We spoke daily, texted throughout the day, and even Skyped a couple of times a week. As much as I enjoyed working on the project, it was getting to the point that my digital visit to Chance was the highlight of my day.

Everyone noticed the spring in my step since my return, with Ben teasing me about my redneck sailor, and even Nigel and Greg expressing interest in meeting him. Reed wasn't pleased when I revealed that we were involved. He was even less pleased when I formally requested a buyout at the completion of the sale. I had held off making a decision until I was certain of my future. I wasn't actually sure about that, but I knew that whatever it held, I wanted something different.

"Are you sure?" he said sighing. "Is there no way to change your mind?

"No."

"Is it really all over? There's no chance for us? There's nothing I can do?"

"Please, understand," I said. "What we had was great, but it's over now. It's time to move on...for both of us."

"Is this about Chance?"

"No," I said, getting up and walking to the door. "This is about me."

The project progressed smoothly with nothing more than the usual hiccups. I got to know Nigel and Greg well who were spending more and more time in New Orleans. Partly to keep tabs on the project, partly because they were enjoying spending time here. We became friends, but soon I could sense they were keeping something secret. It felt odd, because I felt like I could trust them, but I could feel something was up. One night they asked me to dinner, just the three of us.

Dinner was enjoyable, but I could tell they were building up to something. Finally, as we were waiting for dessert, they let me know what was up.

"We've decided to make New Orleans our homebase," Nigel said. "We really enjoy it here, and it's central location actually make a convenient hub for our travel. But as much as we love the cottages, that will not be a large enough home for us."

I looked at them expectantly, sensing there was more coming.

"So we've bought a series of warehouses in the MidCity area. It's up and coming. We want to convert them to high end condos. Furnished condos for corporate rental. Very exclusive. Our personal home will take an entire floor. We've engaged with our contacts at Architectural Digest to run an exclusive feature on them when they're ready and partnered with them to be toured as a showhouse before they're rented," Greg said.

"In addition to the condos, there will be a restaurant, a wine bar, and some retail. We want you to oversee the project. In addition to a generous fee, we're prepared to offer you use of the cottage of your choice on the Dauphine property for the duration of the project," Nigel said.

He handed me a manilla envelope. "The proposal is in there. We know this a huge commitment...we expect the renovations to take at least a year, possibly 18 months, but we plan to begin immediately and we want you involved. We don't expect an immediate answer. I know that this is a holiday weekend, so take your time deciding and let us know on Tuesday."

I finished the rest of the meal in a daze, desperate to read the packet, but controlling that desire. But as soon as I was in my car, I ripped it open, rifling through it until I saw the fee they are offering. I gasped. This was huge. Not just the fee, but with the publicity they could generate, something like this could insure my career. But 18 months. 18 months here in New Orleans. 18 months away from my what I was considering more and more to be my home again. 18 months away from Chance.

I looked at my watch. I wanted to call him, but it was close to midnight. Even though it was Labor Day weekend and Southern Decadence meant the Quarter and work on the cottages would be shut down, I had planned to stay in New Orleans. I missed Chance, but I was exhausted. He had talked about coming down this weekend, but had his own project. I thought about going back to my hotel, grabbing a few hours sleep and heading home first thing, but I couldn't wait that long. I needed to see him, to talk to him now.

I headed out to I-10, pausing only long enough to fuel up with gas and coffee. I made the drive in silence, trying to figure out what I wanted. A few months ago, this would have been my dream: A lucrative, high profile project that didn't include Reed. But now, I was torn. I wanted to do this project, a dream for any designer. But I also wanted to explore my burgeoning relationship with Chance, and at my age, I didn't know that I wanted to wait another 18 months to do that. I knew who fragile life could be and how fast it can go.