“Babe, sit.” Wyl released his arms and edged Rod to the bed, and they sat. “I need you to listen to me and heed what I say.” Wyl put his arm around Rod’s shoulders, his right hand squeezing Rod’s right shoulder.

Rod’s heartbeat quickened. This couldn’t be good. “What is it?” he asked.

“If Ailbe pursues me, I must allow his advances.”

“What?” Rod shouted, twisting to try and free himself from Wyl’s binding arm.

“Eyes on me!” Wyl maintained his hold on his husband.

Angry, Rod glared at Wyl and snarled through gritted teeth. “This better be fucking good.” Rod's breathing became rapid and heavy.

Rod’s pinpoint pupils indicated his anger. “We are married. Husbands. Dedicated to each other. Nothing changed. I do not want Ailbe’s advances, but we’re playing a game here. A life-or-death game.” Wyl kept his focus on his husband. “Death,” he repeated.

Rod blinked as the meaning of the repeated word hit him, anger and confusion contorting his expression.

“Ailbe needs to believe we are pawns in his game, to move about the board as he chooses. We must play the game to win.”

Rod paused for a few seconds while the message penetrated his warring emotions. Anger again boiled to the surface. “If you think I’m going to fucking sit by and watch you in the arms of another man, you have another thing coming.” Defiance stiffened every muscle in Rod’s body. “The sight of you and Stewy in a lip lock on the balcony in San Francisco is burned on my retinas. Although I learned Stewy jumped you, it hit me like a punch in the chest from Cassius Clay.”

“You mean Muhammad Ali?”

“You’re not helping by pointing out my age.” Rod studied the clenched fists in his lap and avoided Wyl’s gaze.

Wyl tugged at Rod’s chin to focus on Rod’s eyes. “Tell you what, let’s have a signal. A codeword, perhaps. Something we’ll say to each other. Something innocent to others, but meaningful to us.”

“What do you mean?” A hint of anger still in his voice, Rod turned away. “I’m not happy about playing the fucking game.”

“Death,” Wyl said.

The word hit Rod in the chest like another blow from Cassius Clay.

“Have I ever called you darlin'? Wyl asked.

“No,” Rod groused, his chest still hurting from the phantom punch.

“The word sounds a bit hillbilly to me so I don't use it.”

“I agree, darlin’.” Rod snarled out the word.

"It's now our safe word. If I say it, I’m playing the game.”

“Like I said, you playing the game doesn’t set well with me.”

Wyl tugged at Rod’s chin again and gazed into his eyes. “There is no way anyone will lure me away from you.” Wyl's voice softened. “I liked you when you first walked into the classroom. Your confident swagger. Your firm handshake. Your captivating gaze.” Wyl kissed Rod. “You didn’t realize your effect on me the first day, did you?”

“No.” Rod whimpered, his eyes closed as anger drained away and sensations of love crawled over him like ants.

“What did you think when you first saw me?” Wyl spoke in a calm and seductive tone.

Rod opened his eyes and gazed into Wyl’s. “My heart beat faster. My face heated. I found you the most handsome man I ever laid eyes on. And when we shook hands, the spark of your touch blew me away.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No.”

“Why would you think I could?” Wyl enveloped Rod’s mouth in a fiery kiss, tasting Rod's essence and pouring all his love into the moment. The kiss broke with a few quick pecks to Rod’s soft lips. “Babe, you are the only one for me. Keep it in mind as we move through the next few weeks. No matter what develops or what you witness, always remember you are my husband, and my love for you is endless.” Wyl pulled Rod to his chest, kissed Rod’s ear, and nibbled the lobe.

Rod shivered at Wyl’s actions. “I would die to save you, Wyl.”

“Babe, if you died, I would die. You’re all I have left in this world. I could not survive without you.” Wyl choked on the words.

Rod wrapped his arms around his husband. “I wish I brought my guitar.”

“Why?” Wyl said.

“The last time you gave me a guitar lesson, we ended up having sex.”

“How about we skip the guitar part and go to the sex?”

Rod stood and turned his back to Wyl. “If I remember right, you massaged my shoulders.”

Wyl took the cue and stood, his strong hands digging into Rod’s shoulder muscles.

“You put your arms around me.”

Wyl remembered and wrapped his arms around his husband from behind.

“I groaned and leaned my head back. You leaned over and kissed me.”

They repeated the scene, complete with a breath-stealing, more-than-fiery kiss.

The kiss broke, and Rod gasped. “Boy, have you learned a lot about kissing.” He rotated in Wyl’s arms and pulled him into a jaw-tiring, tongue-wagging, saliva-exchanging, tooth-jarring kiss. Their passion for each other grew, and the heat of their bodies increased.

“Too many clothes,” Rod gasped, tearing at Wyl’s shirt, buttons flying across the room as he ripped the shirt from Wyl’s chest.

Wyl tugged at Rod’s shirt, pulling from the waist up and over his head, shirt and undershirt together, trying to touch Rod’s skin as soon as possible.

They fell to the bed, and Rod attacked Wyl’s chest, licking and sucking at his nipples, the nubs hard and sensitive. He licked his broad tongue across the right nipple and bit it. Wyl gasped, a deep groan escaping from his chest.

With both hands, Wyl tweaked Rod’s nipples, massaging and pinching while relishing Rod’s tongue on his chest. The little rancher never stood at attention as hard as now, and Rod’s cock stood straight up, bobbing with each heartbeat.

Wyl eyed Rod’s cock. “Oh god, what a beautiful instrument you have. So hard and throbbing.” He caressed the shaft, spreading the slick pre-cum around the head and down the sensitive sides.

Rod gasped. “I’m riding the edge, babe. I’ve never been so turned on. I’m about to shoot.”

“Not yet,” Wyl whispered. “I want you to enjoy this for as long as possible.”

“God, babe, I need to cum.”