Precious Ache

PRECIOUS ACHE

…Micah began to knead Dave’s shoulders, his thumbs digging into the sore spot in the middle of Dave’s nape. “God, that feels good.” Dave groaned, then snapped his lips shut, horrified that he’d failed to censor his thoughts and had actually verbalized them. He tensed, waiting for Micah to say something. “It’s supposed to feel good. Sit and relax. I’ll have those tight muscles loosened up in no time.” Dave swallowed the moan building in his throat and tried to stay as still as possible—not an easy feat when his cock was hardening by the second and pressing against his zipper for liberation. He would have been humiliated had Micah realized what effect his massage was having on Dave’s libido, but the other man seemed oblivious. As it stood, a firestorm of need was building in Dave’s groin, aided by the magic of Micah’s nimble fingers working his neck and shoulders, rubbing away the soreness and replacing it with a precious ache Dave had never felt before. He’d experienced lust, knew it well, but the sensation building in his groin was deeper, more intense than what he was used to. It scared the piss out of him. Dave leaned back his head, staring up at Micah, and felt the breath hitch in his chest. Micah loomed over him, his full lower lip caught between his teeth, his brows furrowed in a look of utter concentration. Dave’s lungs burned with the need

to exhale, but all he could concentrate on was Micah’s face so very close to his own. Micah’s eyes were even more stunning, the limpid blue pools almost mesmerizing in their intensity. Micah’s head tilted to one side as his teeth released the death grip they had on his lip and he soothed it with his tongue. Dave’s rapt gaze followed the progress of Micah’s tongue across his mouth and gulped…

PRECIOUS ACHE BY AMANDA YOUNG

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

PRECIOUS ACHE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Amanda Young ISBN 978-1-60272-359-7 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For my rock, John. Thank you for your unending belief in me, even when I don’t deserve it.

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CHAPTER 1 Dave Blanchard winced as he heard a shrill, feminine squeal. He turned to see a pink blur running in the opposite direction from where he stood on the corner of 6th and Vine as he tried to hail a taxi. A little girl with bright blonde pigtails rushed into her mother’s waiting arms and pointed to him, crying. The mother scowled at Dave and shook her head, as if he’d gone out of his way to scare the child. Now it’s my fault children think I’m a giant from the fairytales their parents read them. Scowling, he held out his arm toward the next yellow cab that approached. With gas prices at an all-time high, it was cheaper to take a taxi to and from the city than drive his old 1

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clunker of a truck. But he hated having to rely on someone else to get him where he needed to be. It gnawed at his finely tuned sense of independence. Luckily, this cab’s light was on, and it pulled up to the curb in front of him and stopped. The engine rumbled noisily, exhaust fumes billowing behind the bumper as he climbed in the backseat and grumbled his address to the turbaned man in the front. Dark eyes glared at him from the rearview mirror for an instant before the car jetted out into busy midday traffic. Leaning back against the squeaky vinyl upholstery, Dave closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart. It had been a trying afternoon and he was ready to be home, safely ensconced in his townhouse, away from the stares and whispers that inevitably followed him everywhere he went. After a lifetime of being treated like a freak of nature, he should have been able to let the snide comments and ogling roll off his back. But he’d never mastered the art of ignoring the way people reacted to his appearance. It wasn’t as if he were grossly disfigured or had a hump on his back, but being seven- feet, six-inches tall was different enough to attract attention. The time he spent working out his frustrations in his home gym didn’t help make him look less threatening, just muscular and well-toned. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a violent bone in his body. People saw him and jumped to conclusions. He’d grown used to it, learned to adapt to always being on the outside looking in. But that didn’t prevent him from feeling the sting of rejection again and again. 2

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The only reason he’d come out of his hidey-hole today was for one of the infrequent business meetings he had that couldn’t be conducted online or over the phone. Although he primarily worked from home, designing and maintaining websites, there was the occasional client who wanted to meet him in person to discuss their projects. He was grateful those were few and far between, or he’d probably starve. While online, he could charm potential clients with little to no effort. It was face-to-face meetings that turned him into a raging incompetent who couldn’t string together two words. He’d bumbled today’s meeting, tripping over his words like he had a stuttering problem. The last straw had been when he’d knocked over a large potted plant on his way out and spilled dirt all over the office floor. He wouldn’t bet on hearing from Wagon Trails Construction any time soon. The hour-long drive from Roanoke to Blacksburg passed quickly as Dave replayed the torturous afternoon in his mind. Before he realized where he was, the taxi pulled into Dave’s driveway and stopped. He paid the cabbie and got out, the sun warm on his face and neck. He entered his townhouse and dropped his house keys into a bowl on the table by the door. A cool breeze wafted over his feverish skin, making him shiver as goose bumps exploded up and down his arms beneath the white, long-sleeved dress shirt he wore. Petey, a shaggy-haired, black-and-white cocker spaniel, barreled down the stairs just inside the door and danced around Dave’s feet for attention. Dave bent, scooped Petey off 3

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the floor and cuddled the wiggling bundle of energy against his chest. “I missed you, too, boy. I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Petey yipped and squirmed, trying to lick at Dave’s mouth. “Ah, ah, ah,” Dave said, setting down Petey. “No kissing me on the lips. Haven’t we already had a talk about that?” He bypassed the living room on his right and entered the small, sterile white kitchen. After feeding and watering Petey, he grabbed a tall bottle of water from the fridge and turned it up, allowing the icy liquid to splash over his tongue and down his parched throat. With an “ah” of satisfaction, he kicked off his shoes and ran the back of the chilled bottle against his forehead, trying to cool down. For a spring day, it was exceedingly hot outside, close to eighty degrees. He was burning up. Dave set down the bottle on the counter by the sink and stripped out of his shirt and dress pants, laying them over one of the four straight-backed kitchen chairs so he would remember to drop them by the dry cleaner the next time he went out. Most of his laundry was done at home, but operating an iron was beyond his ability. His efforts had produced a large brown scorch on the front of the last shirt he’d attempted to de-wrinkle. Clad in blue boxers, with the half-empty water bottle clasped in one hand and his dress shoes dangling from the fingertips of the other, he padded into the living room. He dropped his shoes by the couch and flopped down on the tan sectional, glad to be home. Petey catapulted himself onto the 4

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cushion beside Dave before bounding back down onto the floor and taking off into the kitchen to finish his food. With a smile for his hyper dog, Dave leaned to his left and reached for the laptop resting on the tabletop built into the middle of the sectional. Plush beige carpet squished under his toes as he stretched out his legs and settled back with the laptop on his thighs. While he waited for the computer to warm up, he snatched the universal remote from its resting spot on the sofa and turned on his stereo, setting a classical CD to play quietly in the background. Just because he lived alone, didn’t mean he liked silence. A little noise broke the monotony and made his pad feel homier, less empty. Dave signed on to his internet account and pulled up his email. He scanned the messages—mostly work and spam— and sighed in disgust. He’d been hoping to see a response to his ad, but— Wait! There was mail trapped in his spam folder. He clicked on the spam button and there, at the bottom of the pile, was the email he’d been waiting for. The mouse hovered over the “read” icon, inactive because Dave was too nervous to pull it up. It was ridiculous to pin his hopes on a single email, but he couldn’t help it. Dave had tried internet dating once before, and it had been an embarrassing failure. He’d been honest about himself, even putting up a picture for those who had trouble believing he was as tall as he claimed. He didn’t want to mislead anyone, or get his hopes crushed after countless get-to-know-you emails. 5

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To his surprise, he’d received a few replies that had potential. He’d singled out a man who sounded the most promising and arranged a meeting. Unfortunately, the guy who’d seemed so sweet and funny online turned out to be a pervert. He’d shown up carrying a tiny chair and had proceeded to explain that he was into scat. The man actually asked Dave to sit in the chair and defecate on him. Needless to say, Dave had shown him the door and then pushed him and his freaky little port-a-potty through it. Now, two years later and desperate for human contact (although he didn’t like to think about it in those terms), Dave was reserved but ready to try again. He’d joined one of the bigger, more popular dating sites a week earlier and was very careful about listing his likes and dislikes this time around. Ever since, he’d been obsessively checking his email, waiting to hear from someone. Now the response he’d been waiting for was staring him in the face, and he was too nervous to open the damn thing. God, I’m a dork. He clicked on the email and watched it load, excited and half-nauseous at the same time. He’d heard people say there was someone out there for everyone, but he was beginning to doubt that. Hell, even if there was a guy out there who liked his men extra tall and socially inept, he doubted he would ever have the good fortune to meet him. What were the chances he’d meet his Mr. Right online? Dave read the email, his pulse pounding in his ears. 6

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Dear GWM seeks LTR, I recently joined men4men and ran across your profile. You sound like someone I’d like to meet. If you find yourself interested after you’ve read my profile, just give me a shout. I’d love to meet for coffee sometime so we can get to know each other better. J Dave double-clicked on the member profile, read it over once and then again. It didn’t sound bad, exactly. In lieu of a photo, the man described himself as the boy-next-door type, with blond hair and blue eyes, as well as being height and weight proportionate. In his spare time, he said he liked to hike and play sports. The best part of the man’s ad, as far as Dave was concerned, was where he claimed to be looking for a real connection with someone, rather than an easy piece of ass. Dave liked sex as well as the next guy, but one-night stands weren’t for him. Although he’d always felt awkward and out of place at bars, sleazy backroom hookups had rid him of his virginity and given him a little experience. While his height made him something of a novelty fuck among other gay men, the experience wasn’t much more satisfying than if he’d stayed home and used his own right hand. At the end of the night, climbing into his cold bed never failed to drive home 7

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how much he wanted to share more than his dick with someone. As unpopular as it was, the idea of having a partner rather than a fuck buddy filled his thoughts. After a deep cleansing breath, Dave hit reply and typed out a message to the man who identified himself as J, asking if he’d like to meet the following Saturday. He didn’t know whether or not they would hit it off, but he was willing to take the chance. It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose. At the very least, he hoped to make a new friend.

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CHAPTER 2 Dave settled at the back of Java Blend, the coffee shop where he’d agreed to meet J, and tapped his fingers on the scarred, wooden tabletop. For a Saturday evening, the place wasn’t overly crowded. There were a few solo people with laptops at tables near the front window. A blonde woman with a small boy sat near the counter, sipping an iced coffee while her kid dropped cookie crumbs all over the floor. Two bored, male employees stood behind the counter and looked liked they would rather be anywhere but at work. Dave twiddled his thumbs and breathed in the strong scent of coffee beans and vanilla. Nervous energy coursed through his veins, making it hard to sit still in the uncomfortable 9

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wooden chair. He and J had emailed back and forth a time or two during the week, making plans and just talking about everyday stuff. They kept their topic of conversation on simple things and steered away from anything too personal, for which Dave was both grateful and slightly disappointed. He didn’t want to get into anything heavy over the computer, but he also wanted to know more about J. He did find out that J like animals and actually had a dog of his own, which pleased Dave. The guy seemed genuinely nice, and Dave was looking forward to meeting him face to face. “Mommy, Mommy!” Dave glanced over at the noisy little boy in a blue windbreaker who was tugging on the sleeve of his mother’s dress with a hand covered in chocolate. “Is that man a nice giant? Can we go say hi?” “No,” the mother hissed, casting an apologetic side-look at Dave, who sat two tables over. “Now hush and finish your cookie.” Giant? Dave rolled his eyes and took a sip of his mocha latte, the brew hot and sweet on his tongue. He snuck a peek at his watch. Fifteen minutes after six. It looked as if he could have taken his time getting ready, instead of rushing through his preparations so he could get to the shop early. He glanced down at his jeans and sneakers, and regretted not picking something less casual. The faded jeans were old and threadbare around the pockets, the black polo shirt comfortable, but neither screamed fuck me. Although this date wasn’t about sex, he still wanted to be…well, wanted. He 10

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nervously ran his hand over the soft stubble on his head and wished he’d taken the time to run the clippers over it before he’d showered. Although the buzz cut he preferred probably made his square face appear stern, the short style was simple and suited him. His hair tended to curl when it got longer, making his head look like a frizzy, black dandelion, and he hated it. Fidgeting in his chair, he glanced out the window for the hundredth time. J said he had blond hair and would be wearing a white shirt and jeans, so that’s what Dave kept an eye out for when people walked by the window. He sat up straighter as one guy who fit the description appeared—tall and cute, although a little younger than Dave had expected—but the guy kept walking. Dave relaxed and mindlessly tapped his foot against the spokes of the chair. He people-watched and tried to guess where everyone was headed, or where they’d come from. When that lost its thrill, he got up and ordered another latte, although it would probably keep him awake that night. Halfway through the second cup, he gave in to his curiosity and checked the time again. Six forty-five. He’s forty-five minutes late. God, this sucks. Dave sighed and picked at the edge of his thumbnail. He wanted to give J the benefit of the doubt and believe the man was just running late, but he wasn’t naïve enough to buy it. The guy obviously wasn’t coming, which left Dave with two options—he could stay a little longer just to be on the safe 11

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side, or he could get up and go. The decision was a no-brainer. He scooted his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. There was no sense waiting around any longer. He’d been stood up. It shouldn’t have bothered him—he didn’t even know the other man—but it did. He felt like an idiot for getting his hopes up, only to have them smashed over his head. No matter how he prettied it up, it was just another blip on his never-ending line of rejections, and it stung. Dave dropped a five on the table and headed for the door. He was going to go home, take out some of his aggravation on his weight bench and then take Petey for a nice long run. Maybe by the time he was finished with that he would be too exhausted to think about what a bust the night had turned out to be. Once outside, he turned left and started down the sidewalk. It was a nice night out, not too hot or cold, and he felt like expending some energy. One of the reasons he’d chosen Java Blend for the evening was because it was close, only a mile from home, and he could walk back and forth. He’d actually selected his townhouse because of its proximity to the downtown area, which meant that he didn’t have to depend on his truck to get around. The older residential neighborhood was only a hop, skip and jump away from the hustle and bustle of shops and people, even if he rarely came out of his home to see it. He took his time ambling down Main Street, ignoring the nervous looks shot his way as he glanced in boutique windows and closed storefronts. The whole of downtown consisted of 12

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about ten square blocks, all of the stores connected and comprised of red brick with glass storefronts. Small, flowering trees with pretty purple blossoms sat in planters along the clean sidewalk. During various holidays, the trees were decorated in the appropriate décor, lending a rustic charm to the area. Although small towns were close-knit and tended to be more judgmental about some things, he liked the atmosphere. The crime rate was low, and people minded their own business for the most part. He couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather live. Dave passed a young couple, probably in their midtwenties like he was, who pushed a yellow stroller with a towheaded toddler inside. He had stopped to watch them go by, wondering what it would be like to be part of something bigger than himself, when something hard bumped into his back. Startled out of his musings, he jumped as icy cold liquid sloshed down his back. He whipped around to see what was going on. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” exclaimed a stocky man in a black ball cap. He held out an empty, clear plastic cup with a bent straw sticking out of the top. “I didn’t mean to run into you, but when you stopped so suddenly…” Although he was probably close to six-feet tall, the guy still had to crane his neck in order to gaze up at Dave with eyes the color of the clear blue sky. “I’m really sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.” “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. It happens.” A hint of remembrance tugged at Dave’s subconscious, but 13

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it took him a moment to place the other person. The man’s startling blue eyes framed in thick black lashes, along with the slightly crooked blade of his nose and square chin, gave away his identity better than a fingerprint. The sidewalk seemed to tilt under Dave’s feet as he realized whom he was looking at. He could hardly believe his eyes. Dave didn’t know whether he should identify himself or not. After all, it had been a decade since he’d seen the other man, and they’d only been so-so friends at the time. He was sure Micah Black would never remember him. “Well,” Micah said, fiddling with his empty cup. “I’d be happy to pay your laundry bill, or buy you a new shirt to make up for the mess.” Unbidden, a smile tugged at the corners of Dave’s mouth in response to Micah’s thoughtfulness. Apparently the other man hadn’t lost his sweetness over the years. “Unless you’re carrying around a cup of iced bleach, I don’t think you could hurt this shirt, but thanks for the offer.” “No, it was just iced coffee.” He stepped to the side and pitched the cup into a trash receptacle outside a small Korean restaurant. “I’d be nut-job if I were out here carrying around a cup of bleach.” “Either that, or way too into your washing machine,” Dave quipped. He snapped his mouth shut, appalled by the innuendo in his suggestion. What had prompted him to say that? “Right.” Micah chuckled. The sound of Micah’s laughter brought back one too many memories of the boy he used to be…the boy Dave had crushed 14

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on so hard he’d been forced to carry a notebook in front of his lap to keep from embarrassing himself. Fantasies about Micah had invaded Dave’s dreams before he’d even come to terms with his attraction to other boys. “So,” Dave said, his cheeks heating because of his train of thought. “It was nice, um, meeting you.” He turned to go, feeling like a total fool. Some things really didn’t change. He’d always felt awkward around the other man…now was no exception. “Hey,” Micah said. “Wait a second. I just placed your face. Your name isn’t David, is it?” “Close.” The teenage boy mentality still trapped inside Dave’s mind shouted with glee that Micah remembered him, even if his old friend hadn’t gotten his name quite right. “It’s Dave. Dave Blanchard.” “I knew you looked familiar. You lived with the Brubakers, too, right?” “Yeah, I was there for a while.” Dave pictured Mr. and Mrs. Brubaker in his mind. His uptight foster parents had born an uncanny resemblance to the couple from the American Gothic painting, their narrow faces pinched and stern. He’d lived with them from the time he was twelve until he turned eighteen. Then he hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. The couple had been nice enough to the kids they fostered at their farm on the outskirts of town, piling anywhere from four to eight kids at a time inside their extra four bedrooms. None of the children had ever done without food, clothing or shelter, but they’d never been allowed to 15

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forget they were only there through the grace of God and the Brubaker’s goodwill. It was because of their religious beliefs that he’d been terrified of admitting his sexuality during his teenage years. He could remember more than one Sunday sitting on a hard wooden bench in church, listening to the pastor threaten the congregation with eternal hellfire if they so much as thought about stepping off what he decreed as the righteous path to Heaven. Homosexuality had been high on the pastor’s list of unforgivable sins. Micah nodded. “I was only with them for about six months, so you probably don’t remember me. My name’s Micah. Micah Black.” “Sure, I remember you. You played ball or something, right?” Micah grinned and nodded. “I was on the football team.” A little more than just on the football team, as Dave recalled. Micah had been star quarterback and had managed to lead their high school team to the state championship during his senior year. He’d gotten a football scholarship to Virginia State thanks to that season. “So, um…are you back home now, or just visiting?” “I just moved back into town. What about you? Do you still live around here?” Micah asked, seemingly oblivious to Dave’s discomfort. “Maybe we could hang out some time. It would be nice to catch up with old friends.” “Sure,” Dave said, surprised by the offer. “Great.” Micah beamed at Dave, revealing twin dimples in 16

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each cheek. “Well, I have to run, but if you want to come hang out tomorrow evening, I’m going to be watching the race with a couple of guys I met at work. We could man the grill and catch up on things.” “That sounds good. What time should I show up?” “Well, the race starts at seven, so about six-thirty would be good. I’m staying at 110 Hickory Street.” “Okay,” Dave said. “I know the street. You actually live near me. Do you want me to bring anything?” “Nope, just yourself. Although, if you’re picky about what kind of beer you drink, you might want to bring your own.” Micah glanced down at his watch. “Well, I have to go. It was nice seeing you again, and I hope you can make it tomorrow.” “I’ll do my best.” “Great.” Micah stepped around Dave and hurried away in the direction Dave, himself, needed to walk in order to get home. He hung back, not wanting Micah to think he was following him, and marveled about what he’d just agreed to. He had absolutely no interest in NASCAR races. Then again, it would probably be easier to fake interest in that sport than some of the others that were more complicated. All he’d have to do with racing is pick a driver and root for him. That was certainly simple enough. At worst, he’d spend one boring evening with a bunch of straight guys. At best, maybe he’d make a friend or two. Either way, the prospect of being around Micah and finding out what he’d been up to since he left town was irresistible. 17

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*

*

*

Dave was still speculating over running into Micah as he got ready for bed later that night. He pulled back the comforter and sheets and settled back on the fluffy pillow-top mattress. His gaze on the bland white ceiling, Dave folded his hands under his head and considered his luck. There he’d been, pouting over being stood-up, and who should he run into but Micah Black. Thank God he’d been firmly in the closet back then and too scared to let the other boy know he’d liked him, or tonight would have been just awkward instead of interesting. Nothing like a little southern homophobia to ruin a potential friendship before it started. Micah probably would have ducked into another building and hid if he knew the number of fantasies he’d starred in once upon a time. God, that seems like forever ago. Micah may have just moved to town, but Dave couldn’t believe they lived so close to each other and had never crossed paths before. And damn if Micah didn’t look better now than he had at eighteen. It was hard to believe it’d been a decade since they’d seen each other. Dave had only been fourteen when Micah had come of age and left the foster home where they’d both lived. Recalling the way he’d silently cried, all alone in his bunk that night, still had the power to embarrass the hell out of him. If he remembered correctly, Micah’s parents had died in a car crash when the boy was seventeen, leaving him a ward of the state. Although popular at school and a member of the “in” 18

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crowd, Micah had been so outgoing and sweet that Dave couldn’t help but like him. Micah had been much nicer to Dave than all the other boys, who’d picked on him and called him a stork because he was gangly with no muscle. He hadn’t started to fill out until after he’d finished growing, when he was eighteen or so. Until then, he’d been nothing but arms, legs and teeth. Add to that being almost abnormally bashful and better able to relate to computers than people, and it was no wonder he’d been made fun of constantly. One of the happiest days of his life was when he’d graduated high school. Thanks to a savings account he’d been building since he was sixteen, he’d been able to pack his meager belongings and move out of the foster home the very same day. For the first few years he was on his own, he’d worked every job he could get, from seasonal construction gigs to temporary factory work. At night, he’d taken online, accelerated college courses in computer technology and business management until he’d received his degree. Not long after, he’d started his business—Faith Media—named after a mother he could barely remember. For the last three years, he’d worked for himself. Money was tight, but his little company was growing. He may have been a little lonely from time to time, but that was one of the drawbacks of working from home. He felt like it was a fair tradeoff since he didn’t have to put up with nosy coworkers or evil bosses. His life was pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. All he needed to make it complete were a few good friends, and 19

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someone to love. No, that wasn’t exactly right. He didn’t need a man to be happy, but he wanted one—someone he could talk to, share the highs and lows, and have smokin’ hot sex with. Shit, who am I kidding? At this point, I’d happily settle for friendship and snuggling. He wondered what happened to his date, why J hadn’t shown up. The guy had seemed so nice online, not at all like the kind of person who would lead you on and then leave you hanging. He figured there were people who got their rocks off on shit like that, but J had sounded so…genuine and normal. It was too bad, really. Dave realized he wasn’t the catch of the century, but he thought he was okay-looking, if you liked tall men. His face— with the wide, square jaw and crooked nose—wouldn’t win any beauty pageants, but it wouldn’t crack mirrors, either. Working out had strengthened his muscles and transformed his naturally long and lanky frame into a structure of muscular planes and angles. Like most men, his favorite appendages hung heavy between his thighs, and he’d never had any complaints about their size. He didn’t know why it was so hard to find someone willing to do more than bend over and spread their cheeks. Didn’t anyone want to talk, or get to know someone before sex? It seemed odd that he had no trouble finding someone to fuck, but it was almost impossible to find someone to have a conversation with. His mind flashed onto the startling clarity of Micah’s eyes, the way he’d met Dave’s gaze and held it. He may not have 20

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met Mr. Right tonight, but it was entirely possible that he’d walked away from the Java Blend with a friend. He didn’t know how Micah would react to the gay thing, but he wasn’t going to worry about that just yet. For the time being, he was just going to be grateful for what he had. It would be nice having another guy to talk to for a change—even if it was going to be hell to be around the other man without a constant hard-on. Dave yawned and closed his eyes. I wonder if I could get away with carrying my laptop around in front of my groin, the same way I used to use that old notebook to hide a boner…

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CHAPTER 3 Dave’s hand shook as he raised it to knock on Micah’s door. He wasn’t sure where he’d expected the guy to live, but the two-story farmhouse with navy shutters and white picket fence around the front yard had come as a surprise. It seemed so homey, like the sort of place where a family would live— which made him consider whether or not Micah was married, maybe even with a couple of rug rats running around under foot. For some reason, the thought of Micah having a wife and kids didn’t sit right. His chest tightened as if he’d sucked down a milkshake too fast. When no one answered his summons, he waited a minute and then knocked again, thinking he could be at the wrong 22

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house. There was a bright orange crotch rocket parked in the driveway, but that didn’t necessarily mean anyone was home. A lot of people had a motorcycle in addition to their regular, everyday vehicles. While Dave was checking out the bike, he heard the door creak open. He turned, saw Micah, and all the blood in his body rushed south. A tiny white towel clung precariously to Micah’s lean hips. Water beaded on his chest and shoulders, tiny rivulets of it cascading down his smooth, tanned skin between the flat discs of his nipples. Dave’s mouth watered, unaccountably thirsty for a sip. “Hey,” Dave muttered, tearing his gaze away from Micah’s body to meet the other man’s eyes. “Am I, um, early or something?” “No, you’re fine. I’m running a little behind. I was washing my truck in the backyard and lost track of time. It’s no big deal.” Micah pulled the door open wider and stepped aside. “Come on in and have a seat while I throw on some clothes. Just make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” He shut the door and disappeared down a hallway to the right of the door. Dave stepped into the foyer and glanced around. A large living room sprawled to his left, and he saw a cheery yellow kitchen straight ahead. He strode into the living room where a black leather sofa and two matching recliners faced a large, flat-screen TV that was mounted to the wall. The white walls were bare, and the light-colored hardwood floor shone from recent polishing. A sliding glass door took up a large portion 23

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of the right wall. He walked over to it and peeked out at a nice-sized, fenced backyard. A yellow Labrador rolled in the grass, clearing enjoying himself. Petey would’ve loved the freedom to romp around, too. The only downside to Dave’s townhouse was the small yard. He could put Petey outside, but only on a chain, and the poor pup hated being tethered. Dave didn’t have the heart to leave him on it for very long. “Hey,” Micah said, entering the room in a pair of jeans so old and faded they looked tissue-thin. A fitted blue T-shirt hugged his shoulders. “Sorry about that. I was just getting out of the shower when I heard you knock. So, did you have any trouble finding the place?” Dave turned and faced Micah. “No. Actually, we’re only a couple of streets apart. I live over on Sycamore Lane.” “Well, hell,” Micah said, sitting on one end of the couch. “We’re practically neighbors then.” He curled one bare foot under the opposite thigh and settled back against the cushions. “Yep.” Dave pointed to the glass over his shoulder. “Pretty dog.” “Oh, Goober? Yeah, he’s a good boy. He’s usually the king of the house, but I have to keep him outside when I have guests over. He gets a little skittish around new people.” “Speaking of people,” Dave said, trying to sound nonchalant although he was a little nervous about meeting a big group of folks. “Who all did you invite over to watch the race?” “Oh, just you and a few guys from work. Do you know Sam Rogers and Mark Donovan?” 24

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“I don’t think so.” Dave moved away from the sliding glass door and joined Micah on the sofa. “Where did you say you work?” “Over at the high school…as a truancy officer.” Dave laughed. “You’re kidding. Four years of high school was enough for me. I can’t imagine volunteering to work there.” “I know what you mean, but the money’s okay and I like the kids, even if they are little shits a lot of the time. The best part is knowing I can make a difference in some of their lives. You wouldn’t believe the number of students who fail and wind up dropping out because of absences. Not that dragging wayward kids back into class is all I do, but it’s a big part of it.” Micah talked with his hands, waving them around like they were responsible for making his point. Dave couldn’t help but notice the thin gold band circling his ring finger. He nodded at the ring. “So, you’re married?” “No,” Micah said, twisting the ring. “I was for a while, but things didn’t work out.” “Oh, that’s too bad.” Dave’s heart sank at the realization that Micah was straight, even though he’d expected as much. “What about you?” Micah asked, perking up. “I don’t see a ring, but are you dating anyone special?” “No. Not really.” His mind wandered back to J and their missed date. He definitely wasn’t seeing anyone, special or not. Damn it. Micah leaned forward. “Hmm, well—” Someone knocked 25

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on the door, interrupting whatever Micah had been about to say. “Sorry. Excuse me for a second?” “Sure.” Dave twiddled his thumbs while he waited for Micah to come back in with the person who had just arrived. A film of moisture built on his upper lip, making it itch. He wanted to meet new people, needed to, but that realization didn’t help make him any less nervous. Unlike when he was a kid, he didn’t have to worry about anyone giving him grief, thanks to his size, but that didn’t mean he’d fit in any more now than he had back then. He never quite knew what to say to people he’d just met, so he usually ended up fading into the background while the people around him had a good time and forgot he existed. Normally, that was fine with him, but he’d resolved to at least give this evening a shot and try to make an effort to be sociable. He was never going to make friends with anyone if he kept backing himself into a corner. The sound of several deep voices and Micah laughing caught Dave’s ear. He wondered what made Micah let loose like that, and how he could have the same effect on the other man. Micah had a nice laugh, full and throaty. Dave wouldn’t mind being the cause of the other man’s mirth. The voices grew louder as Micah entered the room with two men trailing along behind him. “Guys, this is Dave. We kind of grew up together. Dave, this is Mark and Sam. They’re both teachers at the high school where I work.” The men nodded at Dave and then separated, each of them taking a seat in one of the two recliners that framed the couch. 26

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Dave hoped he wouldn’t have to use their names for anything just yet, because he had no idea which was which. “Make yourselves at home, fellas. The remote to the TV is resting on the arm of the sofa over there, in case you want to watch the pre-race show. I’m going to grab some munchies out of the kitchen and then I’ll join you.” Dave watched Micah go, anxiety building in the pit of his gut. He didn’t know these guys, or what to talk about. Small talk wasn’t exactly his forte. “So,” the guy with the dark brown eyes and hair, and a neatly trimmed mustache said, turning sideways in the chair to face Dave. “What does ‘kind of grew up together’ mean?” Dave cleared his throat. “Nothing major. We just stayed in the same foster home for a little while.” Mustache man squirmed in his seat. “Oh, sorry, man.” “For what?” It was an honest question. Mustache man shrugged. “I don’t know. Just seemed like the thing to say, I guess.” “Uh, okay.” Dave wasn’t sure what to say to that. The other guy, the one with blond hair and freckles, leaned over the arm of his recliner and pitched the remote at mustache man. “I think what my lame-ass buddy over there is trying to say, is that he’s sorry if he asked a question that made you uncomfortable. Right, bonehead?” Mustache man flipped off the blond guy. “Yes, Sam. That’s all I meant.” Dave glanced from one man to the other. So, if the blond was Sam, then the one with the mustache had to be Mark. He 27

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could remember that. “Hey,” Micah yelled from the kitchen. “Could one of you give me a hand in here?” “Got it,” Dave said, standing. He was happy for the interruption. He may have only known the Micah of years ago, but it was more than he could say for the other two men. “Whoa,” Sam said, his neck craned back to stare up at Dave. “Christ, you’re huge.” Dave tensed, waiting for Sam to poke fun at him. He didn’t want to be rude to Micah’s friends, but he wasn’t going to put up with any shit, either. “Holy fuck,” Mark exclaimed, from behind Dave. “Remind me not to hit the clubs with you. You’d get all the pussy.” Sam rolled his eyes and snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, as ugly as you are, it wouldn’t be much of a competition.” “Fuck you, Sam. You’re just jealous ’cause I’m still single and can bang all the cute babes I want, while you have to go home to your wife and offspring every night.” Realizing he wasn’t going to be goaded about his height, Dave relaxed and left the men to bicker affably at each other. He entered the kitchen and found Micah bent over with his head stuck in the fridge. Tight denim stretched against his small, firm ass, which swung back and forth in time to some tune he was humming under his breath. Dave only had a second to appreciate the view before Micah stood upright, holding two long-neck beer bottles in each hand, but it was 28

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more than long enough for him to speculate about what Micah’s ass looked like without the denim. “Hi.” He thrust the beer toward Dave. “Would you mind carrying these out for me? I need to grab some chips and dip, and then we’ll be set for a little while until we fire up the grill.” “All right.” Dave took the bottles, the chilled glass leaving smears of condensation on his palms. “Do you need help with anything else?” “No, I’m good.” Micah upended a large bottle of salsa into a colorful, blue plastic bowl. “Oh, hey… Do you like steak? ’Cause I didn’t think to ask when I ran into you yesterday, and I don’t really have anything else. Although I guess we could order out, if you want.” “No, you don’t have to do that. I like steak.” In fact, he had a strong hankering for tube steak, but he didn’t think Micah would appreciate hearing about it. “Great.” Dave hung around and waited for Micah while he finished filling the bowl with salsa and then grabbed a large bag of tortilla chips off the blue granite countertop. The way Micah moved, in short but graceful bursts of energy, was like a symphony in action. Dave’s gaze was drawn to the other man’s elegant hands, the long and slender fingers capped by short, buffed nails. They made Dave’s own hands—rough with calluses from one too many construction jobs—look positively shameful. The contrast sent Dave’s imagination on a flight of fancy, his psyche conjuring what Micah’s smooth 29

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hands would feel like running over his skin, gripping his cock and stroking him off. Lost in his thoughts, it took him a moment to realize Micah was saying his name and looking at him curiously. “I’m sorry. What was that?” Micah tilted his head to the side. “You okay? You seemed a little out of it there for a second.” “I’m good.” Heat crept up Dave’s neck. “I was just thinking about something.” Something completely inappropriate, that he should’ve known better than to fantasize about. The ring on Micah’s finger told Dave all he needed to know about the other man’s sexuality. “Oh, well, I was just asking what you do for a living now?” Micah shrugged, his hands full, and stepped out of the kitchen. “I’m a web designer.” Dave followed him back into the living room and over to the sofa. Micah sat on the end of the couch nearest Sam. Dave handed a beer to each of the men before sitting on the opposite side of the sofa closest to Mark. He didn’t really want the beer, but he held it anyway. It wasn’t as if there was a place to set it down. Micah really needed tables in the living room. Micah bit into a salsa-topped chip and swallowed. “How’d you get into web designing? I mean, I remember you always hiding out in the computer lab when we were in school, but how did you turn that into a career?” He offered the chips to Dave, before passing the bowl to Sam, who dug in like he hadn’t seen food for a week. 30

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“I just fell into it, I guess,” Dave responded. “I’ve always been good with computers, so I wanted to do something with them. I didn’t, uh, really like the thought of working a nine-tofive job and making money for someone else, you know?” Frankly, Dave was surprised Micah had taken enough notice of him in school to even realize he was there, much less know what he’d been doing. Micah had always been surrounded by a swarm of jocks and cheerleaders. It was only while the two boys had been alone at the house that they had hung out and discussed what had seemed so important at the time, but now seemed naïve and foolish. Dave remembered those talks about leaving home, striking out on their own and making something of themselves, and wondered if Micah was proud of what he’d become. Dave’s only thought had been getting away from the people who’d looked at him like he was a lower life form, and he’d already achieved that. Yet, he wasn’t as elated as he’d imagined he would be. Truthfully, being on his own was damn lonely. “I’d love to be my own boss some day,” Sam said. “I can’t see being a public school teacher forever. We don’t make squat, and you would not believe the crap I have to put up with on any given day. It’s crazy.” “Yep,” Mark added. “Did you know, just last week Rose Dawson brought a piss test to school and was showing it off to all her friends. That kid is fourteen and pregnant, and she was acting like she’d won the damn lottery. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone or something. I mean, what kind of world are we living in when a kid thinks it’s cool to be knocked up? My 31

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parents would have skinned me alive if I’d gotten someone in trouble at that age.” “What did you do?” Micah asked around a mouthful of chips. “I didn’t hear anything about it.” “You will,” Mark said with a sigh. “It’s only a matter of time before she drops out.” “How can you be so sure?” Dave asked. “What if she has parents or someone who’s willing to help her out with the kid after she has it?” “Doubtful,” Sam said. “I had her for science last term, and her parents never showed up at any of the parent-teacher conferences I set up. Besides, I doubt she’d be that thrilled over being knocked up if she had decent role models at home.” Dave scratched his head. “I guess.” “Trust me,” Mark said. “You don’t work around these kids day in and day out like we do. If they’re the future, then we should all be worried.” Micah leaned over the arm of the couch and dipped his chip in the bowl of salsa Sam was holding. “Come on now, guys. It’s not that bad. Granted, it could be better, but there are a lot of good kids, too. We just don’t pay as much attention to them because they behave themselves.” “Maybe.” Sam didn’t sound convinced. “Look.” Dave pointed at the TV. “I think the race is starting.” He had no idea what he was looking at, it could have been practice for all he knew, but the cars were driving around the track. 32

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“Well, hell.” Mark turned up the volume on the television until the sound of revving engines and the sportscaster’s commentary filled the room. “Why are we sitting here gabbing when the race is on?” The rest of the evening passed in a flurry of cheers and boos as the men watched their favorite racers chase each other around the track. Micah was quieter than the other two men— who hooted and hollered when their chosen drivers took the lead, then cursed during skirmishes and cautions. Nevertheless, he would tense and move to the edge of his seat, his gaze locked on the TV when his driver took the lead, or sigh and rub his hands over the lower half of his face when the car fell back in the standings. Dave thought it was cute as hell how seriously Micah took the sport, even if he, himself, didn’t get a thrill out of it. He was having much more fun watching the men than he was the race. They ate and talked about all things racing, including who they predicted would win in the points standing, and why oldtime racing was so much more fun to watch than the newer version that involved so many rules the drivers couldn’t get by with anything. Dave just listened to most of it, nodding and agreeing a lot of the time since he didn’t know much of anything about the sport. He was surprised to learn that many of the early race car drivers had been men who ran moonshine for a living. He never would have guessed, but it made an odd sort of sense. By the time Micah flipped off the TV, the other men were 33

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yawning and stretching like it was past their bedtime, and they were having trouble keeping their eyes open. Accustomed to staying up nights and then sleeping late the next morning, Dave was wide awake. He was mentally going over a list of things he needed to do at home when Micah spoke up. “Hey, Dave… I don’t know if you’re interested or not, but I have an extra ticket for the Bristol race next week, if you want to go.” “Oh, yeah?” Dave was flattered, but he really didn’t see the thrill in watching a bunch of men drive cars around in a circle for hours on end. Watching at home was one thing, but actually going to a race sounded boring as hell. “I don’t know, Micah. I really don’t care for racing that much.” “Oh, come on, Dave. It’ll be fun. Just us two guys, the open road, and the race. We could even stop and grab a bite to eat afterward, if we aren’t too exhausted from sitting out in the sun all day. What do you say?” “Why?” Dave blurted out. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to take Sam or Mark? They really seem to be into the whole race circuit thing.” “Well, yeah, they are, but they also have their own tickets in a section much closer to the track than my seats are.” Micah shrugged. “That’s what happens when you wait till the last minute to buy them.” “You got that right,” Mark said, standing. “Our seats are awesome. Micah’s tickets are up in the nose-bleed section.” Sam laughed and shook his head. “We bought ours early for this year.” 34

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Dave glanced at Micah. “All right. If you’re sure you wouldn’t rather take someone else.” He couldn’t figure out why Micah had invited him when he’d just admitted he didn’t like racing, but he wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to get out of the house and hang out with the other man again. “No, man. It’s cool. I probably should have only bought one ticket, but I hate going to these events by myself. I was hoping I’d find someone to tag along with me.” “I know exactly what you mean.” Dave smiled, relieved to know the real reason behind Micah’s request. It was easier to think Micah was inviting Dave because he didn’t want to be alone, rather than out of pity. “There are some things that are just better when you do them with someone else.” Mark burst out laughing, followed closely by Sam and Micah. Dave’s cheeks grew hot as he realized what he’d said. “Um, yeah, I didn’t exactly mean it that way.” Micah patted Dave on the arm. “I knew what you meant, but it was still funny.” “Hell, yeah, and right, too.” Sam stood. “And on that note, I need to get home or the old lady will make me do a lot of things by myself for a very long time to come.” “I guess it is getting late.” Mark groaned as he rose to his feet and joined Sam by the door. “Thanks for the grub, Micah. We’ll see you at work.” “Sure thing,” Micah said, clapping Sam on the shoulder as he walked by. “Any time, guys.” “Well,” Micah said, shutting the screen door behind the guys. “I guess it’s just you and me.” 35

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Dave laughed nervously. He loved the thought of being alone with Micah, but probably not in the same way the other man meant it. I should just make up an excuse and go home. “Well, I should probably go, too. I’m sure you need to get your beauty sleep.” Micah gasped and laid his hand over his heart. “Are you saying I’m ugly? Is that it?” “No.” Dave shook his head. God, why did he have to stick his foot in his mouth now? “I didn’t mean that at all. I wasn’t trying to insult you; I just meant that I didn’t want to intrude.” Micah grinned and sauntered over to where Dave was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I’m just fucking with you, buddy. Calm down.” Dave rolled his eyes and slumped back against the sofa cushions. “Asshole.” “Takes one to know one.” “What are we, twelve?” “Maybe.” Micah sat beside Dave, their thighs almost close enough to touch. “Want to play truth or dare?” “No.” Definitely not. He’d never played, but he wasn’t stupid. “Too bad. It could be fun. You know, I don’t think I’ve played much of anything since college. Being an adult sucks sometimes.” “It’s not so bad. Worse would be waking up to find Mrs. Brubaker leaning over us every morning for the rest of our lives.” 36

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“Oh, my God.” Micah burst out laughing. “I’d forgotten all about that. She scared the piss out of me the first few mornings I was there. I never did understand why she couldn’t just buy alarm clocks or yell at us to get out of bed. Waking up to find her pinched face hovering over me was not my idea of a great way to start the morning. Whatever happened to her and her husband, anyway? Are they still living around here?” “Afraid not,” Dave said with a sigh. “Mr. Brubaker passed away about four years ago, and the last I heard, Mrs. Brubaker had moved to Tennessee to live with her sister or someone.” Micah squeezed Dave’s thigh, right above his knee. “That’s too bad.” Micah’s touch was perfectly innocent, and yet all Dave could do was wonder how the man’s long, nimble fingers would feel against his bare skin. He figured he was going to hell in a hand basket for popping wood while he was talking about someone who’d died. Fuck, I need to get a life, or get laid…or something. Dave rose to his feet. “I really have to get home. Petey is probably pissed at me for being gone this long.” “Petey?” Micah asked. He stood and followed Dave to the door. “Is that your roommate? Boyfriend?” “God, no.” “Oh. Well, then…” Micah’s words hung in the air. He tilted his head, staring at Dave with big blue eyes. Dave had the sinking suspicion that he’d just said something wrong, although he wasn’t sure what it was. “Petey’s a very spoiled cocker spaniel.” 37

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“Ah,” Micah said. “Gotcha.” “So, thanks for having me over. It was fun.” “Sure. I’ll give you a call later this week about going to the race.” “Sounds good.” Dave opened the screen door and stepped outside. “Night, Micah.” “Goodnight,” Micah said, softly closing the door. The cool night air, so much chillier than the humid atmosphere in the house, made Dave shiver as he crossed the lawn. Jaundiced light from Micah’s porch followed him down the driveway and out onto the road. Somehow, the thought of returning to his empty home seemed more depressing than usual.

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CHAPTER 4 Dave’s week flew by in a blur of work and nervous anticipation. It culminated on the day of the race. While Dave began the day not knowing what to expect, he had a surprisingly good time with Micah, even if the two men were surrounded by a thousand screaming strangers. It all began when he arrived at Micah’s house promptly at 11:00 A.M., after which the two of them swung by a drive-through to grab a bite to eat and then hit the road. Two hours later, they arrived at the Bristol racetrack and parked. Just as Dave had feared, the looks and whispers started almost as soon as he got out of Micah’s truck. Women sidled closer to their men for protection. Men narrowed their eyes and glared at him, as if 39

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sizing him up to see if they could take him in a fight. Although Dave had hoped Micah wouldn’t notice the abrupt change in the atmosphere, the other man stiffened beside him. “Jeez, aren’t they a friendly bunch? Do I have something hanging out of my nose, or what?” “It’s not you.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “This kind of crap always happens to me. It’s no big deal.” “Oh…because of your height? I get it, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about. I mean, you’re just tall. It isn’t like you’re the incredible hulk for fuck’s sake. Now if you were the color of a piece of broccoli, I might be able understand why everyone’s gawking.” Dave glanced at Micah, noticed the righteously pissed look on his handsome face and burst out laughing. “You’re really something, you know that?” “Oh, yeah? Something good, I hope.” “Maybe,” Dave said with a grin. “Come on.” Micah punched Dave’s upper arm and stepped ahead of him, leading the way through the crowd. “Let’s go find our seats.” And just like that, the issue had been dropped. Once they sat down, everything went smoothly. Unless you counted the way their thighs brushed together, or the way Dave perspired, although his sweating had nothing to do with the hot sun beating down on his shoulders and everything to do with the bare curve of Micah’s broad shoulders and the white tank top that clung to the other man’s sinuous flesh. Sitting so close, 40

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Dave could smell the light scent of sweat wafting from Micah’s glistening skin, and it went to his head faster than the most potent liquor. It was damn hard concentrating on the race when he had such a better view sitting right next to him, but he managed. And although he enjoyed listening to Micah’s quick witticisms about life and sharing comfortable silences with him, being around him also felt like punishment. The entire time Micah went on and on about some trivial thing at work, or whatever the moment’s discussion happened to be, Dave’s mind multitasked. Part of him listened to Micah; the other part pictured the man naked, Micah’s creamy skin flushed with pleasure. It was a fantasy based on the sight of Micah in all his wet, bare glory the weekend before. If only a stiff wind had whisked away the towel… After returning to Micah’s house, Dave agreed to join his new friend for a drink before he headed home. While sitting in Micah’s living room, sipping a stout margarita from the stash Micah kept ready in the fridge and trying to put off the short journey to his lonely townhouse, Dave turned his neck the wrong way and felt a sharp twinge of pain rush down his spine. Somewhere between falling asleep on his sofa the night before and dozing in Micah’s truck on the way back from the race, Dave had developed a sore neck. With a wince, he rubbed his nape and tried to work out the stiffness. “You all right?” Micah asked, already working on his second—or was that his third?—drink. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a damn crick in my neck. It’s 41

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probably from falling asleep on the couch last night. You’d think I’d know better, but I get comfortable and then I’m out like a light.” Micah set his drink on the floor by the couch. “Your couch must be more comfortable than mine. This damn thing is a killer. I could probably rest easier on the floor.” With a grin, he rose to his feet and walked around the back of the couch to stand behind Dave. Warm hands landed on Dave’s shoulders. “Let me help. You know, I took a few massage therapy classes when I was in college because this hottie I had my eye on enrolled in the class.” Micah laughed and began to knead Dave’s shoulders, his thumbs digging into the sore spot in the middle of Dave’s nape. “Things didn’t work out so well there, but I did learn a thing or two.” “God, that feels good.” Dave groaned, then snapped his lips shut, horrified that he’d failed to censor his thoughts and had actually verbalized them. He tensed, waiting for Micah to say something. “It’s supposed to feel good. Sit and relax. I’ll have those tight muscles loosened up in no time.” Dave swallowed the moan building in his throat and tried to stay as still as possible—not an easy feat when his cock was hardening by the second and pressing against his zipper for liberation. He would have been humiliated had Micah realized what effect his massage was having on Dave’s libido, but the other man seemed oblivious. As it stood, a firestorm of need was building in Dave’s groin, aided by the magic of Micah’s nimble fingers working his neck and shoulders, rubbing away 42

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the soreness and replacing it with a precious ache Dave had never felt before. He’d experienced lust, knew it well, but the sensation building in his groin was deeper, more intense than what he was used to. It scared the piss out of him. Dave leaned back his head, staring up at Micah, and felt the breath hitch in his chest. Micah loomed over him, his full lower lip caught between his teeth, his brows furrowed in a look of utter concentration. Dave’s lungs burned with the need to exhale, but all he could concentrate on was Micah’s face so very close to his own. Micah’s eyes were even more stunning, the limpid blue pools almost mesmerizing in their intensity. Micah’s head tilted to one side as his teeth released the death grip they had on his lip and he soothed it with his tongue. Dave’s rapt gaze followed the progress of Micah’s tongue across his mouth and gulped. With their noses almost close enough to touch, Micah gave Dave’s shoulders one last squeeze and pulled away. Hard, and damn uncomfortable about it, Dave quickly finished his drink and left, promising to call Micah about joining him for a BBQ the following weekend. Running away from Micah’s house with his dick hard as iron and pissed off at his cowardice was not Dave’s proudest moment, but he knew he’d done the right thing. Making a move on someone straight wouldn’t have endeared him to anyone, and he genuinely enjoyed his new friendship with Micah. He didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. Dave dragged his tired butt inside his house, and shut and 43

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locked the door behind him. Petey hopped up and down, racing around his feet as if the pooch hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of a single day. Dave was sure there would be a mess waiting for him to clean up because Petey was barely housetrained and unused to being alone for long stretches of time, but the welcome home dance was appreciated. Following a quick walk around the block with the spaniel, Dave cleaned the urine off the kitchen floor and then hauled his weary bones upstairs. He needed a hot shower and some quality time with his right hand. There had to be a special kind of hell specifically for single gay men who lusted after their straight friends. Dave stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower. A flood of sweltering water cascaded over his body, bathing him in heat and moisture. He grabbed a bottle of body wash off the shelf, squirted a dollop into his hands, and rubbed it over his chest and arms. Humid air swirled around him, infused with the scent of vanilla, as he washed away the memory of Micah’s touch. Closing his eyes, he tilted up his face into the spray. As he rinsed off from head to toe, he speculated about how Micah would have reacted if Dave had closed the narrow space between them after the massage and spilled all his passion into a single scorching kiss. He envisioned Micah kissing him back, his warm and capable hands cupping Dave’s face. It was so real he could almost feel the heat of Micah’s mouth moving over his own, the slick glide of Micah’s tongue breaching his closed lips. 44

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His hand strayed down the flat plane of his stomach, the wet hair beneath his navel tickling his palm. He wrapped his fist around the base of his cock and squeezed, teasing himself just a little. The solid weight of his shaft throbbed against the inside of his fingers with a forewarning of the pleasure to come. He pulled from root to crown. The sucking sounds of abundant moisture on slick flesh teased his imagination with what could have been—the pleasure of Micah’s sweet lips wrapped around his dick, the stubbled contours of his friend’s cheeks concave with the desire to draw Dave’s very soul out through the tip of his cock. Dave’s pointer finger pressing in on the bundle of nerves just beneath the head. It was so easy to imagine Micah’s tongue in its place, lapping at the juncture between head and shaft with a tongue the color of bubble gum. He saw Micah’s beautiful eyes staring up at him, his wet lips stretched wide around Dave’s meat. Then Micah would moan out his pleasure around Dave’s hard-on, the hungry sound vibrating against Dave’s flesh, drawing him closer to climax. Rapidly stroking from base to tip and then back again, Dave felt the telltale tingle build in his groin and swiftly spread from balls to ass, then up the length of his cock in a prickly rush of sensation that weakened his knees. He braced his weight against the slick tiles with one hand—the image of Micah’s face playing over and over on the inside of his eyelids—as his cum mixed with the shower spray. Wave after wave pulsed from him in sharp, staccato bursts of pleasure. He 45

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held himself upright until the tremors faded and he regained his strength. Dave blinked the water from his eyes and banished the forbidden image of his friend. There was no reason to think about what would have happened, because Micah would have jerked back and punched the shit out him if he’d had even an inkling of the thoughts going through Dave’s mind. No doubt about it. He turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and quickly toweled off. After pulling on a loose pair of boxers, he trudged back downstairs to check his email. Since there was no way he was going to be able to sleep, he figured he might as well get some work done. Petey hopped onto the sofa and curled up beside Dave as he turned on his laptop. He absentmindedly petted his pooch, comforted by the furry presence as he skimmed over the list of new mail waiting for him. To his surprise, he had another response from his want ad. Funnily enough, he hadn’t given the ad much thought over the last week. Sure, it had crossed his mind here and there, but he hadn’t stalked his email account like he’d done at first. His unhealthy desires for a straight man aside, he thought hanging out with Micah and the other guys was good for him. If nothing else, at least the overwhelming sense of loneliness had lifted from his shoulders. His friendship with Micah couldn’t replace his desire to find someone to love, but it could fill the empty gap in his soul where friendship was supposed to reside. For the time being, that would have to be enough. Real 46

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love would find him in its own good time. *

*

*

Dave squirmed in his seat and tried not to show his discomfort. He could not believe the man sitting across the table from him had answered his ad. There had to be some mistake. Bill Austin was barely five-feet tall, slim as a fence post, and about as flamboyant a gay man as Dave had ever seen. He’d arrived dressed in a pale pink blouse that Dave could have sworn was a woman’s brand, and white trousers that caught the light and reflected little prisms of glitter woven into the fabric. A freckled scalp peeked through his thinning blond hair and contradicted the age on his profile. He’d claimed to be twenty-five. But if that were true, Dave would eat his shoes—after they’d tramped through the fragrant nuggets Petey left on his lawn. Dave guessed the man was closer to forty. “So,” Bill said, waving his hand. “You work with computers and stuff? That’s interesting. I’ve been thinking about starting a blog to chart my weight-lifting goals. Sort of a personal journal type of thing.” “Mm hmm.” Dave fought hard not to roll his eyes. The guy had been talking about himself nonstop since he’d arrived. He was conceited, shallow, and worst of all, a liar. Judging by his rapid eye movement and his inability to meet Dave’s eyes when he spoke, less than half of what he’d said was true. “I’ve been using my equipment at home to work out, but 47

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now I’m thinking about joining a gym and hiring a private trainer to help me get more definition. What do you think?” Bill lifted his shirt and revealed a bit of his pasty white abdomen. “A personal trainer is always a good idea, if you can afford it.” “Oh, well, I shouldn’t have any problem with that. It’s more about being able to find a good trainer in this area. I mean, everyone knows all the best fitness gurus are in the bigger cities. I’m not going to waste my money on just anyone.” “I don’t blame you.” Dave swirled his fork through what little was left of his spaghetti and stuffed the overburdened fork in his mouth. The sooner he was done eating, the quicker he could leave. He had no beef with effeminate men, but they weren’t his type. And this guy went beyond effeminate. Bill was as snooty as he was ostentatious. He’d complained about the lighting in the restaurant, then the lack of service the moment they sat down, and finally he’d sent his fillet mignon back twice because it wasn’t cooked to his specifications. The waiter had looked like he wanted to strangle the man the second time around. Chances were better than good that Bill was eating steak marinated in saliva. Personally, Dave knew better than to piss off the people handling his food. “You’re a big, strapping guy.” Bill leered at him from across the tiny, white linen-covered table for two. “Which gym do you attend?” 48

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“I don’t have a membership anywhere.” Dave took a sip of his water. “I prefer to work out at home. It’s more private that way.” “Sure.” Bill took a tiny bite of his steak, chewed slowly and then swallowed. “I can understand that. Gyms can be such meat markets.” “Yep,” Dave agreed, although he had no idea about it one way or the other. He’d never stepped foot inside a gym, much less belonged to one. “So, how’s your steak? Good?” “It’s all right. I’ve had better.” “That’s too bad,” Dave said with a sigh, his impatience running high. They’d already been at the restaurant for over an hour, for Christ’s sake. He laid down his fork and wiped his mouth with the tip of his napkin. “Listen, I hate to rush you along, but I kind of need to make an early night of it. Work and all,” he added with a shrug. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I was thinking we could continue getting to know each other somewhere a little more private.” Bill raised one narrow, overly plucked eyebrow in question. “U-Um. I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass tonight. I really do need to turn in early.” Shit, he felt like a moron for turning down sex, but there was no spark between them, no chemistry at all. Sleeping with the fussy little man wouldn’t be any more titillating than jerking off. “Okay.” Bill’s frown turned into a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll give you a rain check then. Some other time?” “Maybe,” Dave hedged. He signaled the waiter for the 49

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check, relieved Bill was going to let the rejection go so easily. He’d been half convinced the other man would take offense and cause a scene. People gawked at him enough without adding entertainment to draw their attention. Dave paid the check, scooted back his chair and stood, throwing a twenty down on the table for a tip. It was a little more than necessary, but the waiter deserved it after putting up with them. “Well, thanks for having dinner with me. It was nice meeting you.” Bill rose to his feet. “Oh, you, too. I enjoyed your company.” Thinking that was that, Dave gave Bill a nod and walked out of the restaurant, the hair on the back of his neck prickling from the sheer number of gazes following his every move. He stepped onto the sidewalk, dusk just beginning to darken the sky, and was prevented from walking away when Bill’s hand landed on his arm. A glance from the hand to Bill’s face revealed a smile Dave felt sure was supposed to be beguiling, but fell somewhere between desperate and plain old horny. He had no doubt he could snap his fingers and have Bill on his hands and knees with little effort. The thought of taking the man home, stripping him out of his prissy clothes, and making him scream should have been a pleasant one. God knew it had been too long since he’d gotten laid. But he couldn’t summon the slightest bit of interest. Even sex wasn’t worth putting up with someone he could barely tolerate for the amount of time it took to eat dinner. 50

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He gently removed Bill’s hand. “I’m sorry. Did you forget something?” “Sort of.” Bill’s smile widened, revealing teeth too white to be normal. “I just want to know when you plan to cash in that rain check we were discussing.” “I’m sorry, I don’t really know about that. I don’t make it a point to sleep with men I just met.” It was a slight lie, but Dave felt justified in using it. “Oh, well, how about next Saturday? I’ll have to check my calendar, of course, but I’m sure I could work you in.” A nasty mental picture of literally being scheduled between conquests flashed through Dave’s mind. “I don’t think so. I’m busy.” “How about Sunday, then?” The note of uncertainty in Bill’s waspish voice caused a twinge of guilt to bite Dave in the ass. He didn’t like the man, hated the thought of feeling sorry for him, but he did. Even so, he couldn’t allow himself to string along the man with a false promise of a phone call. He’d been on the other end of that promise, and it sucked. “I don’t think so, Bill. You’re a very attractive man, but you aren’t what I’m looking for.” Bill jerked back as if Dave had slapped him. “Fine. Fuck you, then, you overgrown Neanderthal.” He stormed off across the parking lot, his narrow ass swishing, and the sparkly fabric of his pants shining under the street lamps. Well that went fabulously. Dave meandered down Main Street, waiting for the disappointment he suspected was getting ready to spring up on 51

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him after yet another fruitless date. Unbelievably, it never arrived.

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CHAPTER 5 After several weeks of joining Micah and his friends’ outings, Dave felt like he should do something nice for them in return. He’d always liked nature, to spend a lazy Saturday hiking or fishing, so suggesting an outing along those lines seemed as good an idea as any. He particularly liked to explore the nature trails in and around the Blue Ridge Mountains because the gravel paths were well maintained and the scenery was beautiful. His favorite spot was a state park, which included a man-made lake perfect for catching smallmouthed bass. At this time of year, during the spring when the trees were at their brightest green and the wildflowers were just beginning to blossom, nature had never seemed more 53

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alive and vivacious. He’d been nervous as hell when he’d suggested to the men that they all go fishing, but the others seemed taken with the idea. Indeed, Mark loved to fish. Sam used to go with his father when he was a little boy, but hadn’t been since. He thought it was a fine notion to get in some practice on the off chance it was something his twin boys would be interested in when they got a little older. While Micah had never fished, he was game to try it. Dave wasn’t very good—rarely did he catch anything and even when he did, he normally threw it back—but he offered to give the men some pointers, as did Mark. All it had taken to set up the outing were a few fishing licenses and a couple of brand new rods and reels. Since Sam needed to be home early, they decided to take two vehicles—Dave’s truck and Sam’s SUV. Micah rode with Dave, while Mark and Sam followed. After about an hour on the road, Dave pointed to a large, green state park sign up ahead. “Look. We’re almost there.” “About time, too,” Micah said with a wiggle. “I think my ass is asleep.” Dave laughed as he flipped on his signal light and made the next right turn. He slowed at the toll booth, paid the parking fees, and drove on through the gate. “Oh, man, it’s beautiful here.” Micah stared out the window and bounced on his side of the bench seat. “This is going to be so much fun. It was a great idea.” Dave swallowed, butterflies doing a crazy jig inside his 54

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stomach in response to the deep dimples that popped up alongside Micah’s pale, pink lips. Dave would have liked nothing more than to lean across the seat and stick his tongue in those little grooves. It really wasn’t fair that Micah was so adorable. “I hope you guys will have a good time. I’ve always liked coming up here.” As Dave pulled into the gravel parking area in front of the lake, he forced down the attraction he felt toward the other man. Once again, he reminded himself of the rationalization he’d made to accept his relationship with Micah at face value—that he’d lose their friendship if he ever made a move on the other man. This thought had gone a long way toward putting things into perspective for him…at least, during the day. He was still plagued with rampant daydreams and fantasies about Micah, but he was able to fight them off. However, all bets were off the second he fell asleep. It was then that his subconscious took innocent moments and twisted them into lurid, wetdream-inspiring porn. He tried not to feel guilty over the Xrated subject matter, but he was only human, and he had no control over what happened inside his mind while he was out cold. Still, if something didn’t give soon, he was going to have to start buying pads for his bed to protect the mattress. Some mornings he woke up covered in so much cum it was hard to believe it was all his. Keeping his distance from Micah hadn’t been easy, considering the way Micah got kind of touchy-feely with everyone, but it was necessary for Dave’s peace of mind. He’d 55

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been very careful to keep plenty of physical space between them. There was no sense provoking the beast—namely, the one hanging between his legs. Just because Micah was sex on a stick didn’t mean that Dave had to take a lick. He could be an adult and avoid temptation. Even if it sucked. Sun glinted off the lake and flashed into Dave’s eye as he threw the truck into park. Micah immediately opened the passenger side door and hopped out of the cab as Sam and Mark pulled up beside them. Dave got out, slammed the door shut and pocketed his keys. He rounded the truck bed and approached the other men, who stood clustered together staring at the scenery around them. Dave took in their surroundings with a fresh eye, trying to see what the others saw. The sky was a clear blue, so pure there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Dew still clung to the thick green grass and glinted on the leaves of nearby oak trees. Fat pine trees scented the air with the smell of Christmas. The bright morning sun glinted off the lake so the rippling surface look like glass. “Jesus,” Mark said. “Just look at the view…big old mountains and a beautiful lake smack-dab in the center. It doesn’t get much better than this.” Micah scratched his head. “I can’t believe I never visited this place before. It’s so pretty.” “I’ve been here a time or two,” Sam said. “But it’s been years. How long have you been coming up here, Dave?” “For a few years now, ever since I bought the truck. I tried going to the river because it was closer, but it was always 56

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packed with college students. Really, there aren’t any good spots to fish unless you own land or have a boat.” “Tell me about it.” Mark sighed. “My uncle owns a couple of acres he lets me use when I want. If I had to depend on the river, I’d steer clear of fishing altogether. Of course, college students do mean hot chicks in bikinis. That’s never a bad thing.” Micah rolled his eyes, and Sam punched Mark in the shoulder. “That’s all you ever think about.” “Hey, I’m a guy. We’re supposed to think about sex like every eight seconds or something. According to that, I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.” “I don’t hear any of the rest of us obsessing about it like you do.” “Hmm.” Mark scratched the dark scruff growing on his chin. “That’s true. So, what about it, guys? Getting any action lately? We know Sam’s old lady isn’t putting out.” “Fuck you, buddy. Your perverted ass is never going to hear about what happens between me and my wife.” Mark snorted. “As if I’d even want to know what you do behind closed doors.” He turned his inquisitive gaze toward Dave. “What about you? Scored any prime trim recently?” Shit. “Sorry. I don’t kiss and tell.” He hadn’t exactly told any of the men he was gay, and this certainly wasn’t the time or place to bring it up. He wasn’t ashamed—quite the contrary—but where he stuck his dick wasn’t anyone’s business either. “That just means you aren’t getting any.” 57

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Dave laughed. “I guess you’ll never know, huh?” Sam groaned. “Why do I feel like I’m back in high school?” “Maybe because Mark has the maturity level of a fourteenyear-old boy?” Micah hooted at his own joke. Mark shot Micah the bird. “Very funny, asshole.” Dave inhaled the scent of fresh-cut grass and the light ozone scent leftover from the small rain shower the area had gotten the night before. “So, we can hike or fish. What do you guys want to do first?” “Fish,” Micah said. “Hike,” Sam and Mark said together. “All right. There’s no reason we can’t do both.” He glanced at Sam. “You and Mark can go explore the trails, while Micah and I try our luck at the lake. We can meet back here around noon, have lunch in one of the shelters over there”—he pointed to a group of four tiled roofs that could just be seen behind a thick copse of trees across the road and slightly toward their left—“and then go from there. What do you all think?” “Sounds good to me,” Mark said. “Yep,” Micah said. “Me too.” “Well, let’s get going then,” Sam said with a wave of his hand. “I want to hike up to the highest point before it gets too hot. I bet it’s beautiful.” He walked off without another word, heading toward the small green sign that marked the beginning of one of the many trails scattered around the nature park. “See you two in a bit,” Mark called over his shoulder as he 58

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trailed after Sam. “Have fun,” Micah hollered. He grinned at Dave. “I guess it’s just you and me, buddy. How about you show me how to catch some lunch?” “You’ve got it.” After unloading the poles and tackle box, they trailed down to the muddy shore. Dave found a soft grassy area and set down their things. “This good? I think this spot is about as good as we’re going to get.” “What about up there?” Micah pointed to their right, where a wide rock ledge hung out over the lake. Dave shook his head. “Nah. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think my ass could take sitting on that hard rock all morning.” “Yeah, you’re probably right.” “All right. You can take the closed-face reel because it’s a little simpler to use, and I’ll take the open one.” Dave handed the silver rod to Micah and kept the green one for himself. “All you have to do is push the button and then release it when you’re ready to release your line. Simple as that.” Micah drew back his rod to the right, away from Dave, and slung it around in a fast, wide arc. He released the button a little too late and the hook landed in the mud in front of them instead of shooting out into the water. “Here,” Dave said, moving behind Micah. “Let me show you how to do this. You’ll get the hang of it, but it’s all about timing.” He rested his hand on Micah’s right shoulder and used the other to grasp Micah’s wrist and lead the fishing rod 59

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back into swing position. “Now, hold down on the button and let go of it when I say so.” Inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla wafting off Micah’s hair, Dave cajoled Micah into pulling his arm back a little farther and then casting it forward toward the lake. A hairsbreadth before the tip pointed toward the lake, Dave said, “Now. Let go right now.” The line cast out over the water and landed about twenty feet or so away from the shore. Micah whooped and wiggled, inadvertently pushing back against Dave. The feel of Micah so close, the scent of his body radiating out to Dave like a dinner bell, was too much. His shaft twitched inside his jeans, and he forced himself to back up and put some much needed space between them. “Okay, now reel in the line and try it again on your own. There’s really nothing to it.” “Sweet.” Micah started cranking in the line and beamed at Dave. “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it. Now that you know what to do, let’s see you put what you’ve learned into action. Ten bucks says I catch more fish than you.” “You’re on.” Dave settled down on the bank and cast his line out into the water. The tranquil quiet of the morning sank into his bones, allowing his mind to wander. He thought about the job he had to finish before Monday, and Petey’s rabies shots that were due soon. But mostly, he thought about the man sitting so close to him that the two men’s thighs touched. Micah shifted restlessly every few minutes and sighed loudly. Dave grinned. Fishing certainly wasn’t for everyone, 60

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and it seemed as if maybe Micah was too impatient to really enjoy the sport. He glanced over at his friend, whose eyes appeared glazed with boredom. “Are you wishing you’d gone hiking with the guys?” “No. No, not really. But when are the fish going to start biting? We’ve been sitting here for an hour.” Dave shrugged and tried not to laugh. Micah sounded like a little kid asking when Santa was going to show up. “I’m not a fish psychic, you know. I haven’t a clue if, or when, the fish will get hungry.” “So, you’re saying we could sit here all day and have nothing happen? That isn’t the way it works on the fishing shows, man.” This time Dave couldn’t hold back his mirth. “Those shows aren’t realistic. Some of the men fish for days, then they edit out all the boring shit and cut it down to about thirty minutes.” “Well, hell.” Micah scowled. “I can’t believe you thought they caught all those fish in thirty minutes.” “How was I supposed to know? It looked real enough to me.” “Nothing you see on TV is real.” “That’s not true.” Micah’s blue eyes sparkled. “Porn’s real.” Dave snorted. “The girls fake it.” “Ah, but the guys don’t.” “You don’t know that. Haven’t you ever seen those little 61

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squirt bottles used by porn stars when they can’t make the money shot?” “Now you’re just being mean. Let me keep some of my delusions.” Dave cackled. “Have it your way.” “Shit, I’m bored.” Micah stood and dusted off his jeans. “I’m going to move to another spot. Maybe I’ll have better luck.” “Have at it,” Dave said, staring up at Micah’s firm ass as the other man slapped dirt and bits of grass off the seat of his pants. “I’m going to stick around here and wait it out.” Dave watched Micah amble upstream, the tip of his silver rod hanging over his shoulder, then returned his attention to the lake. Not long after, Dave heard Micah holler his name. He craned his neck around and found Micah standing near the edge of the rock his friend had pointed out when they arrived. The ledge hung out several feet over the water. Micah’s line was in the water, and he was fighting with his pole, obviously trying to reel in something. A chill crept up Dave’s spine. “Hey, watch what you’re doing up there. It could be slippery.” “Yes, dear.” Micah’s laugh bounced off the water. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Just try not to be too jealous when I pull in this baby and wow you with my fishing skills.” “I’m shaking in fear,” Dave called back, recasting his line out into the water. “Shit, Dave. This bitch is really putting up a fight.” “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Reel in that 62

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bad boy.” “Hell, it’s a strong sucker. How big do the fish get in this lake? I think I’ve landed a lake monster.” Dave laughed. “I don’t know how big the fish are here. The biggest bass I’ve caught was about twenty-five or twentysix inches. Are you sure you’re not tied up on another rock or something?” Micah had already lost several hooks and sinkers in the lake, not to mention losing line to a wily tree branch that hung a little too close to the water. Micah yanked his fishing pole back hard and teetered unsteadily on his feet. Dave cursed and hurried to reel in his line. He knew Micah was an adult, was in fact older than Dave, himself, but the idiot was going to fall in the damn lake if he didn’t watch what he was doing. Before the thought finished surfacing through his mind, Dave heard Micah shout and then a loud splash. He shot to his feet and whipped around in time to see water shoot upward and the white soles of Micah’s sneakers disappearing beneath the surface. The pole slipped from Dave’s numb fingers. He sprinted toward the lake and waded in, fighting against the current as he made his way deeper. The moment he had enough depth to swim, Dave dived in. His arms beat at the water, the shoes on his feet weighing him down as he kicked his way toward the spot where he’d last seen Micah. There was no trace of the other man now, just bubbling water where he’d once been. A million splintered thoughts circled through Dave’s mind, the most important being Micah’s confession that he didn’t know how to swim. If Dave didn’t hurry, Micah was going to 63

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drown. As Dave neared the rock ledge, he sucked in a deep breath of air and dived beneath the surface. His gaze darted around frantically, searching for Micah, and spotted him a few feet below. Micah’s blond hair billowed around his face like a halo. His desperate eyes pleaded with Dave, while his mouth formed soundless words. His lungs burning with the need for oxygen, Dave swam toward Micah as fast as he could. He reached the other man and latched onto one hand. Micah’s fingers slipped through Dave’s and he began to sink farther out of reach. Dave kicked his legs and propelled himself forward through the water. This time he grabbed Micah’s wrist, his fingers biting into Micah’s skin with a steely determination not to lose his hold. Micah grabbed Dave’s shirt with his other hand, tugging at the collar. What little air Dave had in reserve, billowed from his mouth in a cloud of bubbles as Micah damn near strangled him in an attempt to climb Dave’s body to the surface. If he didn’t get them to the surface soon, Micah was going to drown them both. What seemed like hours—but could only have been seconds—passed before Dave broke the surface of the lake and inhaled a deep lungful of clean, fresh air. Nothing had ever felt better in his life. He heard Micah gasping for breath and carefully hitched the other man up higher against his side. “I’ve got you,” Dave panted. “Everything’s going to be okay.” 64

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Dave repositioned Micah until he had one arm around his friend’s chest. He rolled to his side and paddled toward the shore with one arm, kicking his legs like hell to compensate. Progress was slow, and Dave mentally cursed the people on television who made it look so damn simple. There was nothing easy about towing Micah when his own limbs sagged like limp noodles, and he was bellowing for every sip of air he inhaled. Finally, Dave’s knees skimmed the thick sludge on the bottom of the lake. He half crawled, half swam toward solid land and dragged Micah along behind him. When they hit the shore, Dave collapsed on his side in the red-tinted mud. The cold water lapped at his feet, but he couldn’t summon the will to move. With his last vestiges of strength, he pulled up Micah and cradled the smaller man against his chest. He shivered, his teeth chattering in a duet with Micah’s. Micah lay limp in his arms, gasping for breath and coughing. He trembled as he turned his face into Dave’s chest and snuggled closer for warmth. Realistically, Dave knew he needed to get them both up and moving, and try to find them something with which to dry off so they could warm up. But he couldn’t make himself move just yet. He tightened his arms around Micah, promising himself he would let go the minute Micah stiffened or showed the slightest bit of discomfort in his embrace. Every single second of the last few minutes replayed in slow motion, terrorizing Dave with the images of Micah’s face underwater, the glassy, horrified look in his eyes when Dave’s 65

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grip had fumbled and accidentally let go of him for that brief second. Another minute, two at most, and Micah would have drowned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to losing his friend…couldn’t imagine not having the other man in his life. The thought was unbearable. The surge of adrenaline wore off as Dave rocked Micah back and forth in his arms. An overwhelming wave of fear and relief rocked his emotions, making him shake from more than the icy clothes clinging to his skin. One after another, tremors chased each other through his muscles and settled into his bones. His nose burned and hateful moisture built behind his eyes. Micah mumbled something incoherent against Dave’s chest. “What?” Dave brushed the hair from Micah’s face and tilted up the other man’s chin. “I was so scared,” Micah whispered through blue-tinged lips. “I couldn’t breathe, and I kept slapping at the water, trying to reach the surface…but I couldn’t. God, I thought I was gonna die under there.” “But you didn’t.” Dave stared down into Micah’s bloodshot eyes. “You’re here, and you’re safe.” Micah gave a shaky nod, his chin wobbling. “Thanks to you.” In a brief flash of clarity, every reason Dave had to keep quiet about his feelings for Micah melted away. Nothing was left but the overwhelming tenderness he felt, the desire to wrap Micah in his warm embrace and never let go. At that 66

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moment, nothing was more important than grasping life with both hands and taking full advantage of the fact that they were alive and well. Before he could second-guess himself, Dave leaned down and covered Micah’s trembling mouth with his own. He brushed his lips softly over Micah’s, once and then again. More than his next breath of air, Dave wanted to explore the depths of Micah’s mouth and taste him, but he didn’t dare push his luck. Micah stiffened in Dave’s arms, his lips going slack under Dave’s. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps tore through the fog of desire. Dave lifted his head as Sam and Mark crested the upper slope of the bank. Mark slid down the embankment. “What the fuck?” “What happened?” Sam exclaimed, darting ahead of Mark to help up Micah. “Are you guys okay?” Micah leaned heavily on Sam. “I’m fine. I just fell in. Dave pulled me out.” Mark grabbed Dave under the arm as he shakily climbed to his feet. “Jesus, man. Your skin feels like ice.” “I know. The water was fucking cold.” Dave glanced at Micah. “We should probably get back to the vehicles and try to warm up.” His heart sank as Micah seemed to go out of his way to look at everything except him. “Does the heater work in your SUV, Sam?” “Yeah, it’ll roast you out of the vehicle it gets so hot.” “Great. The heater in my truck’s broken.” He tried to will 67

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Micah to look at him, to give him some sign that he hadn’t fucked things up between them. Micah turned his back on Dave and the rest of them, and stared off toward the lake. Dave sighed. “I hate to cut today short, but under the circumstances, it’s probably best if we head home.” “Nah, man, that’s cool.” Mark scratched his head. “I’ll ride with you so Micah can strip down and get blasted by the heater in Sam’s ride.” “Wait,” Sam said. “You really shouldn’t have to freeze all the way home, Dave. Why don’t you take my SUV, and I’ll drive your truck back? I trust you not to run my baby into a tree. That way you and Micah can both warm up.” “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. We should just go with Mark’s suggestion. I can drop him off on my way home.” Despite his words, the last thing Dave really wanted was company on the long ride home. What the hell had he been thinking, kissing Micah like that? No matter how much he might wish otherwise, he knew Micah was straight. The man wasn’t interested in him and would never be. All he’d accomplished with one, single, all-too-brief kiss was to take advantage of his friend during a moment of weakness. Dave turned away and started up the embankment toward the parking lot. He didn’t need to hang around and see the look of disgust in Micah’s eyes when his friend finally summoned the nerve to glance his way. Micah would probably continue to be his friend—he was a good man—but Dave couldn’t bear the thought of the uncomfortable silences and tension that would surely exist between them now. Losing 68

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Micah’s friendship was easier than seeing the man he’d grown to care about treat him like a freak of nature. He was used to being ostracized, but coming from Micah, the treatment from which he’d suffered all his life would be a death knell…only for once, it wouldn’t be because of his size. A lump of ice grew beneath Dave’s ribs and slowly spread outward, numbing him to everything but the blistering criticism running through his mind. Loss slashed through him like a knife, but he knew he had no one but himself to blame for the stupidity of his actions.

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CHAPTER 6 Something cold and wet prodded Dave’s cheek. He blinked and gazed around with blurry eyes as he realized he must have fallen asleep on the couch again. The last thing he remembered was swallowing the last of a fifth of vodka he’d started drinking in the afternoon. Petey hopped up and down on the sofa beside him, whining. Dave sat up, rubbing the kink out of the back of his neck with one hand while he reached down with the other and ran his hand over Petey’s soft fur. “What’s the matter, boy? You need to go outside?” Petey hopped off the couch and danced at Dave’s feet, as he stood and stretched his arms over his head. His back 70

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popped and, as he relieved some of the ache from the odd position he’d slept in, the doorbell rang. “What the hell?” Whoever was ringing his door had to have the wrong address. No one would be visiting him at…he glanced at the clock…half-past midnight. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a visitor, period. Halfway to the door, Dave stopped in his tracks as the events from earlier in the day came back to him in a rush. He almost wished they’d remained forgotten. Oh, God. Micah. He couldn’t believe he’d kissed the man. The sweet sensation of Micah’s lips pressed against his own came back to him, making his lips tingle and his groin ache with unfulfilled desire. That single memory would have to last him a lifetime since he’d screwed up their friendship. Jesus, I’m an idiot. The bell rang again. Could that be Micah at the door? It had to be. There wasn’t any other feasible option. Door-to-door salesmen—if such a profession even existed anymore—didn’t show up in the middle of the night. Dave scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to figure out what he was going to say to the man. Part of him wanted to ignore the door and go hide out in the kitchen until Micah gave up and went home. But he couldn’t do that. If nothing else, Dave still had his pride. He couldn’t act like a pussy and avoid Micah, no matter the circumstances. He was the one who hadn’t been able to control himself, and now he was the one who would have to face the consequences. 71

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Petey barked and hopped, following on his heels as Dave approached the door with an impending sense of doom swelling inside him. With a deep breath, he steeled his courage and pulled open the door to find Micah standing on the stoop. The porch light backlit the man’s golden hair, making him appear more like a ruggedly handsome angel than the pissed-off man Dave figured him to be. “Hey,” Micah said, frowning. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” “No.” Dave fidgeted, unsure of what to say. Did he bring up what had happened, or let Micah? Should he invite him in, or just apologize and shut the door? God, why did this have to be so hard? “Listen, about earlier—” “That’s why I’m here. I thought we should talk. I think I may have given you the wrong impression about me, and for that I’m sorry. Could I, um, come in? This isn’t the kind of conversation I want to have standing on someone’s porch.” “Oh, right.” Dave stepped aside. “Come on in.” He glanced at the magazines strewn over half the sofa and the empty vodka bottle on the table. Petey’s chew toys littered the floor. “Just ignore the mess. I’m not much of a housekeeper.” “Don’t worry about it,” Micah said, walking past him into the house. “I’m not exactly Suzie Homemaker myself.” Dave shut the door and followed Micah into the living room. The other man stopped by the couch, the full pout of his lower lip clasped between the straight, white line of his pearly teeth. “You didn’t need to come by tonight, Micah. You could have just called tomorrow or something.” 72

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“I didn’t want to wait. I would have been over sooner, but I needed a little time to think about things.” Micah bent and petted Petey. “Cute dog.” “Yeah, that’s Petey.” Dave strode across the room and sat, crossing one leg over the other. Look at me. Look at me pretend I haven’t made the biggest mistake in my life. Hell, I’ve ruined the best thing to come my way in short of forever. Micah patted Petey on the head and joined Dave on the sofa, choosing to sit at the other end of the sectional. He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them. “Do you remember how I told you I was married?” “Yeah,” Dave said cautiously, wondering where Micah was going with this. If he was trying to drive home his heterosexuality, he needn’t have bothered. “Well, there’s a little more to the story than what I told you. You see, Zoe and I were friends long before we got married. We met at college, where I was on a scholarship and she was on a student visa. For whatever reason, we hit it off and became fast friends. We got along so well that when she brought up sharing an apartment during our junior and senior years, I was quick to agree. Living in the dorms was torture, and I was happy to pay my share of the bills just to get out of there. “When we graduated, she was supposed to return to Canada. But by then she’d lined up an apprenticeship with a local artist, and she didn’t want to return home. She applied for a work visa but was denied. The only other option, if she wanted to stay here legally, was to get married. I let her talk 73

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me into going through with it. At the time, I didn’t figure it would be a big deal since I would never be able to marry the person I was in love with. “To make a long story short, we were married not long after graduation, with the understanding that it was just for show. We lived pretty much the same as any roommates, except we had to keep up the appearance of being a couple in case anyone showed up to check on things. Three years after we said ‘I do,’ Zoe met Roger and fell in love. We filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences, and that’s pretty much that. We’re still friends, and I keep in contact with Zoe. She and Roger are very happy, and they’re even expecting their first child in the fall.” “I don’t understand.” Dave stared at his friend, trying to figure out why he was telling him all of this. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to know, but hearing about it was like driving daggers into an already-dead corpse. Regardless of whether or not he could have Micah for himself, he didn’t want to hear about the other man’s conquests. “Why would you marry Zoe if you were already in love with someone else?” Micah smiled sadly. “Nicky wasn’t interested in settling down with me. We had an open relationship, and while I was cool with that for a while, it got old. I wanted a monogamous relationship, but Nicky wouldn’t go for it. There were just too many other hot guys on campus to fuck. Things kind of blew up between us after I agreed to help Zoe, anyway. Nicky couldn’t understand why I would stick my neck out to help a friend, and that more than anything else helped me see that 74

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things would never have worked out between us. We were just too different.” “Why would you put up with that? I never would have pictured you as the type of person who would allow yourself to be treated that way. You deserve better than that from some woman.” “Man.” “Huh?” Dave figured he was missing something. “Nicky is short for Nicholas. Nicky was a man.” “A man?” Fragile hope blossomed in Dave’s chest. “You were in love with a man?” “Mm hmm. Or, well, I thought I was at the time, anyway. Nicky was a force to be reckoned with, so charismatic and charming. He probably could have talked his way into the pope’s bed if the urge struck him.” Dave could easily picture Micah, so young and in love. Of course he would fall for someone as equally enigmatic as himself. Given the chance, Micah could charm the paint off a fencepost. “So, you’re telling me you’re gay?” “Yep. That’s what I’m saying. I dated girls here and there, even slept with a few of them, but it wasn’t for me.” Micah scooted closer on the sofa. “Do you have anything to tell me?” “As if I need to say anything after the way I acted at the park.” “Well, no, you don’t need to say anything, but it might be nice to hear it. I kept sending you signals, trying to feel you out, but you never responded. Until today…or, yesterday, I 75

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guess it is now…I was convinced you were straight.” “You…” Dave floundered. A montage of touches and smiles and beguiling looks flashed through his mind. “I just thought you were like that with everyone.” “Not even close. Have you ever seen me massage Sam’s shoulders or hug Mark?” Dave searched his memory but couldn’t come up with a single instance. “No. I guess not.” “I didn’t think so.” Micah rested his hand on Dave’s knee. “I don’t run around touching people for no reason, even if they are my friends.” “Then why…” Micah met his gaze and held it. “I think you already know.” “No, I don’t.” He could imagine, he could dream, but he didn’t know anything. “I like you. More than like you, if we’re being honest here. When you kissed me, I was so shocked that I reacted badly. I froze up and gave you the wrong impression. I’m sorry about that. It’s just that I’d imagined that moment for so long, how our first kiss would be, and then when it happened, my mind just went blank. Not very smooth, I know, but when you’ve wanted something for so long and finally get it, it can be…overwhelming.” Dave could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You’ve fantasized about me? Why?” “Why not?” Micah asked, looking confused. “You really are as humble as you seem, aren’t you?” 76

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“I—” “Let me tell you what I see when I look at you.” Dave groaned. He really didn’t want to hear about how nice Micah thought he was. “Come on now. It won’t be that bad. Just hear me out.” Micah squeezed Dave’s thigh, right above his knee. “Please?” Dave nodded, all his concentration centered on where Micah’s hand rested on his bare leg. Although the touch was about as far from his cock as it could get, a spark of longing shot up Dave’s leg and zapped his balls. His shaft firmed, filling with blood, and made him thankful he was wearing a pair of loose shorts. The thin material wouldn’t hide a full hard-on, but as long as he didn’t move, he figured Micah wouldn’t notice how very little the man had to do in order to cause Dave’s body to react. It was damn embarrassing that he could get hard from such a simple touch. At this rate, he’d probably come all over himself if Micah so much as breathed on him. “When I look at you, I see someone who’s sweet and kind, who’d give a person in need the shirt off his back if you thought it would help. A man so shy, he avoids forming relationships with anyone because it’s easier to be alone than to take a chance trusting people.” Dave rolled his eyes. He’d expected Micah to say as much. It wasn’t exactly headline news that he preferred to keep to himself most of the time. That didn’t mean he was afraid of opening up to other people. It just meant he was smart. Only masochists purposefully searched for heartache. 77

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Unabated, Micah continued. “I see an extremely handsome man who focuses on his weaknesses so much that he overlooks his strengths. Dave, you’re the only man I’ve ever met who’s kind without a reason or ulterior motive. You’ve been my friend for a while now, but what I’d really like is for you to be more than that. And I want you to open your eyes and see yourself for the remarkable man you truly are, the man I’ve fallen for.” Dave couldn’t believe his ears. “What?” “You heard me.” Dave swallowed. “Why?” “What do you mean why? Haven’t you been listening to me?” “Yeah, but…” Dave shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. His mind was spinning, trying to take in everything Micah had said and the tender way the other man was looking at him. He felt like he was trapped in one of his dreams and was going to wake up any minute to realize he was still alone. “Maybe I just want you,” Micah said. “Did you ever think of that? Say you want me, too. Please.” He leaned in slowly, as if he were allowing Dave time to turn his face away, or say no. A traitorous thought popped into Dave’s head and wouldn’t be cast aside. He jerked his head back. “Wait. What about the ring? If you aren’t hung up on your ex-wife, why are you still wearing your wedding ring?” “This?” Micah twisted the gold band encircling his ring finger. “This band belonged to my dad. My parent’s wedding 78

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rings are pretty much the only thing I have left of them, other than the photo albums I saved after they died. My mom’s ring is at home in my dresser, but I’ve always worn this one.” Dave stared at the plain gold band. It had once served as a reminder of what he couldn’t have. Now it served as a reminder of how sentimental Micah was about the people he cared for. Was it any wonder Dave was attracted to him? The man was gorgeous and kind, with a heart of gold. There was no way Dave could resist him even if he’d wanted to—and he didn’t. Time seemed to slow as Micah leaned in closer. This time, Dave didn’t move. He held his breath as the other man’s lips gently grazed his own. He closed his eyes, responding to Micah’s kiss. Their lips brushed back and forth, over and again, neither of them inclined to move things along. Dave had been kissed before, but not like this, never like this. Kissing was something you did as a precursor to sex, or used to occupy your mouth while you were fucking. It was never quite so languorous and sweet, as if he were truly being tasted rather than devoured. The slow melding of lips went on and on, with no end in sight, Micah’s slick mouth moving against his own. Dave could have happily stayed lost in the moment, sipping from Micah’s lips until the end of time. However, Micah seemed to have other ideas. Dave opened his eyes to see Micah pull back just the barest of inches and stare at Dave with heavily lidded eyes. “Wow.” Dave blinked. “Definitely wow.” He wondered if he looked as flushed as Micah, and figured he probably did, 79

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although it didn’t matter. He felt too damn good to care. Micah had kissed him. Him. And from the looks of the bulge beneath Micah’s jeans, that wasn’t all he had in mind. Dave would have pinched himself to make sure this was really happening, but he didn’t want to chance waking up. Things like this simply did not happen to people like him. His chest rapidly rising and falling, Micah rested his forehead against Dave’s. “Tell me you want me, and I’m yours. All you have to do is say the words.” Dave cleared his throat to remove the knot of desire lodged in his windpipe. He didn’t know why Micah wanted him, but he’d be damned before he allowed the other man a chance to change his mind. “Hell, yes. I want you. You wouldn’t believe how much.” “Thank, God.” Micah pressed his lips to Dave’s, taking up where they’d left off. They kissed until Dave’s blood ran hot and then they kissed some more, Micah’s hands on Dave’s face and Dave’s own fisted in the soft material of Micah’s Tshirt at his sides. He couldn’t get enough of Micah, and wasn’t sure he would ever be able to. The ambrosia of Micah’s lips tasted like benediction, a sweet elixir Dave would happily glut himself on for as long as Micah would allow it. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done to deserve someone like Micah, but he wasn’t foolish enough to try and second guess it any longer. For however long Micah wanted him— whether it was a single night or an eternity—Dave was all his. Although a little voice in the back of his mind screamed that this couldn’t be real, that Micah couldn’t want him for 80

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anything more than a lay, Dave was going to reach for what he wanted with open arms. Any emotional fallout resulting from this night would have to be dealt with later. A low, rumbling growl broke through the loud echo of the pulse racing in Dave’s ears. Reluctantly, he dragged his lips away from Micah’s just in time to catch thirty pounds of dog in his lap. One of Petey’s paws stomped down on his hard-on, causing a sharp lance of pain to shoot through his groin. He grunted, pushed Petey off his lap, and cupped his hands over his package to rub away the sting. Petey climbed into Micah’s lap and licked his face. Micah cackled as Petey mauled Dave with loving. “He’s a little big to be a lapdog isn’t he? Are you okay, Dave?” “Yeah.” Dave straightened with a groan. “I’m fine. Petey just believes he’s a toy poodle, don’t you, boy?” Dave picked up Petey, set him on the floor and then rose to his feet. He wasn’t about to let a little kick to his groin stop him from fulfilling a decade-old fantasy. “Come on.” He held out his hand to Micah. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.” Micah searched Dave’s face, then nodded, laying his hand in Dave’s. “All right.” Their fingers entwined, Dave led Micah upstairs. After stopping to kiss on the stairs, and in the hall, and against the wall by the door, they finally made it into his bedroom and to the bed. His rumpled sheets had never looked more inviting. Micah pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest and abdomen, 81

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so unlike the thick hair covering Dave’s pecs and stomach. Unwilling to miss a moment of Micah’s unveiling, Dave stripped down to his skin in record time. He dived onto the bed and flipped over on his back, watching as Micah finished undressing. Left in a pair of snug, black boxer-briefs, Micah was stunning. Broad shoulders tapered into a wide chest and then further narrowed into lean hips and thick, athletic thighs. His biceps were large and meaty, his pecs firm and topped by small, taut brown nipples. The color of his skin reminded Dave of melted honey, the fine blond hairs sprinkled on his thighs and calves only adding to the golden texture of his flesh. Micah shimmied out of his boxer-briefs, slipping them over his hips. When they hit the floor, he stood up straighter and held his arms out to either side. “See something you like?” Dave licked his lips. His gaze traveled from the lightly furred sac between Micah’s thighs and the hard rod jutting from a wreath of light blond curls, to Micah’s apprehensive gaze. What would Micah have to be subconscious about? He was beautiful. “Yeah, I like what I see. Come over here.” Although he was impatient to get his hands and mouth on Micah, Dave sat on the edge of the bed, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, and waited for Micah to come to him. Barely leashed hunger thrummed inside him, demanding to be sated. He wanted to lick Micah from head to toe, then do it all over again, just to see if the man tasted as sweet as he looked. When Micah stepped between Dave’s splayed thighs, Dave grabbed hold of his hips and dragged him nearer. The 82

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sharp scent of Micah’s need and pure male musk greeted Dave’s nose. He buried his face against Micah’s chest, rubbing his cheek over the warm, silken flesh of the other man’s hard abdomen and inhaled. “Christ, you smell good.” “Oh, yeah?” Micah said, his voice echoing through his diaphragm where Dave’s ear pressed against his chest. “I bet I taste better.” Dave lifted his head. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He bent forward and licked the soft skin around Micah’s left nipple until the pinkish-brown flesh crinkled and drew taut. He lavished it with attention, moving his tongue in tightening circles until he was lashing the stiff bud. When he was satisfied with the way it looked, he moved on to its twin, leaving a glistening trail of kisses across Micah’s breastbone. Micah squirmed and arched his back, pressing his nipple more firmly against Dave’s mouth. “Fuck, that feels good. Bite it, Dave. Bite my nipples. Make ’em hurt.” With a moan, Dave scraped the edge of his teeth over Micah’s right nipple. Micah bucked and ground his hard dick against Dave’s stomach, smearing slick drops of cream across his abs. Dave switched sides and repeated the action, Micah’s flesh heating under his tongue. “Enough,” Micah groaned. He grabbed Dave’s shoulder, pushed him back onto the bed, and straddled his hips. “You are so hot.” A tremor of desire raced down Dave’s spine and into his balls. His face grew warm as he dropped his gaze to Micah’s groin where the rosy length of Micah’s shaft bobbed up and 83

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down, the swollen cap glistening with moisture. Micah gripped Dave’s chin and kissed him, forcing Dave to meet his unwavering gaze. “Don’t look away from me. I meant what I said. I wouldn’t lie to you. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this—get you naked and underneath me? Keeping my hands to myself damn near killed me.” Dave blinked at the fervor of Micah’s deep voice. “You could have said something.” “I could have, but then I can say the same about you, too.” “I know. It works both ways. But I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and I valued your friendship too much to risk it. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever would have made a move if you hadn’t fallen into the lake and scared the hell out of me. I thought I was going to lose you, and something just snapped inside me.” “Well, we aren’t going to get anywhere by arguing about who should have said something. We’ll just have to make up for all that time we lost.” “That sounds good to me.” Better than good. Micah sat astride Dave’s thighs and wrapped his hand around both their cocks, stroking upward. His fingers didn’t meet around the joined girth, but that didn’t make it feel any less fantastic as he pumped and squeezed their dicks. Watching his flushed shaft slide through Micah’s fist, Micah’s flesh pressed tight against his own, Dave felt his balls draw up long before he was ready for that to happen. “Keep that up and I’m gonna come.” Micah let go. “Can’t have that happening.” He fingered the 84

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bulging ridge around Dave’s leaking cock head and the tiny dip beneath it. Without looking up, he said, “I want to ride you. I want to feel this deep inside me, pounding my ass. Please tell me you have rubbers and lube around here somewhere.” “I—” Dave’s mind raced, trying to remember if he actually had condoms. “The lube is under the pillow. Rubbers should be in the drawer”—he pointed to the nightstand by the bed— “right there.” Micah swung his right leg over Dave and scooted up beside the headboard. He bent, his lean torso stretched out, and began to rifle through the contents of the nightstand drawer. Dave lay on his back and stared. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Micah’s firm butt, or the shadowy crevice between his muscular cheeks. The way Micah moved, his ass flexing and relaxing, provided all-too-brief glimpses of the small, wrinkled bit of flesh protecting the entrance to his body. Dave’s member throbbed, threatening to spew his load from nothing more than the thought of burying himself, balls deep, in that tiny pink pucker. Condom in hand, Micah turned and crawled over to Dave’s side. He grasped Dave’s dick and stroked it with strength and confidence. Dave didn’t think it was possible to get harder, but Micah’s touch made it happen. His pulse echoed in his shaft, throbbing with life and vitality. Bending at the waist, Micah curved over Dave’s groin and swiped the flat of his tongue over the cap. He wrapped his lips 85

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around the head and siphoned up the overabundance of precum clinging to the crown. “Oh, Jesus…Micah.” Micah pulled back and started bobbing his head up and down, taking Dave’s hard-on into his mouth deeply and then pulling out until the draw was shallow, shallow and then deep, deep and shallow…until Dave had all but forgotten his own name. There was nothing outside of the wet heat surrounding him, the way Micah’s slick tongue swirled, licking and slurping Dave’s flesh like it was the best thing ever tasted. Then Micah prodded Dave’s slit with the tip of his tongue, after which his tongue fluttered over the depression beneath. Dave’s hips jerked upward of their own accord. He couldn’t control his response, and now that he knew Micah wanted him, he didn’t care to. He wanted to fuck Micah’s mouth, spill down his throat and then turn Micah over and fuck the hell out of him. At the same time, he wanted the precious torment to go on and on, with no end in sight. Part of Dave was still terrified Micah would come to his senses once he got off and realize he could do so much better than be with a social outcast like Dave. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had shown interest and then changed his mind after he came. “Please.” Dave didn’t know if he was begging Micah to stop, or to keep going, but it hardly mattered when Micah was working him over so well. Micah’s mouth felt amazingly good around him: hot, wet, and delicious. And then Micah began to hum, his mouth vibrating around Dave and setting off a new 86

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wave of delicious sensations. Dave shivered, his balls hiking up closer to his body. “Fuck. Unless you want a mouthful, you need to stop.” When Micah kept bobbing, and making “Mmm” noises in the back of his throat, Dave gritted his teeth and started to go over HTML codes in his mind. “Micah,” he panted. “Please. I can’t hold it…I’m gonna come.” Micah’s mouth popped off the end of Dave’s length with a loud, wet squelch. “Sorry. You taste so good, I wouldn’t mind swallowing you down. But I want you to fuck me more.” He quickly tore open the foil with his teeth and then rolled the condom down Dave’s shaft. He climbed onto Dave’s lap and reached back, fingering himself open while Dave looked on. With Micah astride him, their height difference wasn’t as noticeable. That is, until Dave tried to sit up and glance over Micah’s shoulder to watch his slim fingers moving in and out of his own hole. Once again, Dave towered over him. Micah quit what he was doing and pushed Dave back down onto the bed. “Hm mm. Down boy.” “Hey! I was watching that.” Micah laughed. “Later you can watch all you want. Right now, I need you inside me.” Micah gripped Dave’s dick by the root and held it steady, lowering himself down inch by slow, agonizing inch. Dave squeezed his eyes shut, the heated grip of Micah’s channel clenching around him. “Fuck, you’re tight.” “Mm hmm,” Micah moaned. “It’s been a while, 87

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and…oh…you aren’t exactly small.” “Just a little more,” Dave muttered, although he wasn’t sure whether he was telling Micah, or reassuring himself. Only a little farther and he would be buried all the way inside Micah. Micah-freaking-Black. It was unbelievable. Micah took a deep breath and then bore down, pulling Dave’s entire eight inches all the way inside. “Ah, God…so full.” Micah shifted his hips in tiny circles, grinding down against Dave’s root. “Oh, Dave. You feel incredible. Please, fuck me.” Dave fisted his hands in the sheets at his sides and tried to hold still, so close to coming he could feel the pressure building in his balls. He wanted to give Micah time to adjust, but it was hard to wait when his body was screaming for him to move. Hearing Micah beg for him added to the sensation of the slick channel strangling his dick. It was all too fucking much. This was going to be a short ride. He just hoped he could make Micah come before he did. With that goal in mind, Dave started rocking his hips. He slowly pushed into Micah and pulled right back out in tiny, measured thrusts. Micah whimpered and bounced, meeting Dave halfway. He backed into each of Dave’s strokes, slamming down against Dave’s shaft. Resting his feet flat on the bed, Dave grabbed Micah’s narrow hips and drove up into him. He swiveled, moving deeper, faster, and held onto Micah like a lifeline. “Oh…yes,” Micah cried. “Right there, Dave. Feels so good.” 88

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Dave made a mental note of where “right there” was and concentrated on rubbing his erection over that same spot again and again, harder than before. Micah bucked and writhed, grunting and panting every time he hit the right spot. “Touch yourself,” Dave ordered, damn close to ejaculating, himself. “Make yourself come.” Micah reached down and grabbed his hard-on. He stroked from base to tip and then reversed back down the thick shaft. Dave’s attention was torn between the sublime feel of sinking into Micah’s heat, and the captivating vision of Micah’s cock shuffling through the man’s closed hand. The swollen head was ruddy purple, the tiny slit opening and closing like a mouth, drooling glossy drops of passion. “Oh…Oh, God…yes!” Micah’s face scrunched up, his back bowed, and he froze, cum erupting from his member. The first wet blasts shot upward, splattering Micah’s chest and abs. The last strands of milky white cum drizzled over his fist and soaked Dave’s groin. Micah’s channel rippled and fluttered around him, clenching down in rhythmic waves. Dave grunted and jerked. He shoved upward and pulled Micah down by his hips, burying himself as deep as he could get, and just let go. The pressure in his balls sprang loose, flinging him into a void of electric snow as his body emptied into the condom in cadenced bursts that shook him clear to his bones and made him tremble. From somewhere outside himself, he felt Micah’s welcome weight collapse onto his chest. Warm air cascaded over his damp skin. 89

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CHAPTER 7 Micah rolled onto his back, panting. Dave pulled off the used condom and flung it toward the trash can by his bed. It missed and hit the wall, but he didn’t care. He could clean up the mess later, when he had more energy. Dave relaxed against the mattress and folded his arms underneath his head. He inhaled the twin scents of sweat and cum, and smiled. The sex may have been mind-blowing, but Dave had never felt better. He gazed at Micah, taking in the flushed face and neck. Micah’s chest rose and fell, his tanned skin shining from a thin sheen of perspiration. Dave’s attention wandered downward, past the ripped abdomen and thin trail of light blond hair beneath the concave navel to the 90

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man’s groin. To Dave’s surprise, Micah was still hard…the engorged shaft so red it looked painful even as it gleamed with spent passion and the evidence of renewed fervor seeped from its slit. He ran the tip of his pointer finger over the tip, spreading the moisture around the crown. Micah’s flesh was hot and slick. “How can you still be hard?” Micah trembled. “Mmm, I can’t help it. I just want you so bad.” An innate sense of joy spread through Dave in response to Micah’s words. He curled up next to Micah, satiated from his climax, but more than willing to play. This was his chance to explore Micah’s body to his heart’s content. He could stay in bed with his friend every moment for the next decade and never tire of it, of touching and tasting. “I don’t think I can get it up again right this second, but I could stroke you, or suck you. What do you want?” He wrapped his fingers around Micah’s length and gently squeezed the head. Micah gazed at Dave, his pupils dilated. With a burst of energy, he rolled onto his knees and hovered above Dave. “I want to fuck you. Can I? Will you let me take you?” “I…” Dave pictured the look of bliss on Micah’s face when he came, the heavenly sounds he’d made when Dave was buried deep inside. He wanted to know what that felt like. “Okay.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah. I, um…I never have, but I want to. I want to know what it’s like with you.” 91

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Micah bent and softly kissed Dave while staring into his eyes. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right? If you want to wait, we can.” “No. Take me, Micah. Fuck me.” “Oh, baby.” Micah kissed Dave hard and fast and then pulled away. “I’ll make it so good for you. I promise.” “I know you will. I trust you.” And he did. Dave hadn’t gotten to the age of twenty-four without offers from men who wanted him to bend over, but he hadn’t wanted to make himself that vulnerable to anyone. With Micah it was different. He was nervous about the initial pain, but he trusted Micah to make it as comfortable as possible. The budding love he harbored for Micah would make the pain of penetration worth it. Even if he didn’t like it, he wanted to experience what it was like to have the man he loved inside him, if only once. Micah slid to the foot of the bed and grabbed the lube from where it had been flung earlier. He nudged Dave’s thighs apart and crept up between them on all fours. He pressed a lingering kiss below Dave’s belly button. “For your first time, it would probably be easier to do this doggy style, but I’d really like to be able to see your face.” “I want that, too.” He didn’t love the thought of rolling over and facing the wall. He yearned to see every move Micah made, every expression that crossed his lover’s face. He couldn’t imagine missing a single second of the action. “All right. As long as we’re in agreement.” Micah stretched up and grazed Dave’s lips with his own. His tongue 92

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swept over Dave’s lips and dipped inside, softly exploring every nook and cranny. By the time he pulled away, they were breathing hard and Dave’s cock was making a valiant attempt to rise again. Dave gazed up at Micah, taking in the flushed cheeks and kissswollen lips, and couldn’t resist running his fingers over the sweet mouth he’d never imagined he’d be able to taste. The way his hand trembled was mortifying. Micah turned his face into Dave’s palm and kissed the center. “You’re shaking.” “I know. I can’t seem to stop.” “You know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, right? If you’d rather not let me in, there are other things we can do. Fun things.” Micah ran his pointer finger down Dave’s breastbone, through the coarse black hair on his chest, then pinched his left nipple. “Extremely satisfying things.” “Oh… That sounds…interesting. Right now, I’d rather feel you moving inside me.” He groaned as Micah moved his attention to the other nipple and twisted it. “Fuck me, Micah. I want you to.” “Your wish is my command.” Micah pressed a quick kiss to Dave’s pursed mouth before sliding down his body. He peppered kisses along Dave’s collarbone, then spent a few minutes tormenting Dave’s nipples with the tip of his tongue before sliding down farther to trail his tongue along the narrowing line of dark hair leading to Dave’s hard-on. He bypassed Dave’s cock and laved the tender orbs beneath, flicking his tongue back and forth over each ball, wetting 93

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Dave’s sac with his saliva. Dave clawed the sheets. He had a pretty good idea what was coming, and the anticipation drove him crazy. Micah’s lips moved lower, skimming over the smooth patch of skin between Dave’s balls and the entrance to his body. Calloused hands skimmed the inside of Dave’s thighs, nudged them open farther and then pushed them up. Dave gripped the back of his knees and held his legs out of the way, pressed tight against his chest. Warm, wet heat glided through the trench between Dave’s cheeks and over his hole. He exhaled a shaky breath, foreign sensations bombarding the lower half of his body. Micah’s tongue prodded the tight ring of muscle, licked and then fluttered away again, only to return once more and press harder against his pucker, seeking entry. Dave concentrated on relaxing his body, but it wasn’t easy—not when he knew damn well what was coming. He shut his eyes and rested his head back against the pillow, trying to do what needed to be done if he was going to allow Micah inside. As if he sensed the war raging inside Dave, Micah backed off and began to lick Dave’s ass with tiny flicks of his tongue that were more torment than pleasure. His fingers bit into Dave’s cheeks and separated them, stretching him open for the wicked tongue hell-bent on making him lose his mind. Unused nerves fired to life, stimulated by the slick appendage laving him from balls to hole. Dave’s shaft was roused to full rigidity without a single touch. Something slick and firm returned to prod Dave’s hole, too 94

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hard to be a tongue. It cascaded over Dave’s pucker, moving in slow circles. “You have to relax for me, sweetheart.” Micah rimmed Dave’s hole, teasing him mercilessly. Dave opened his eyes. “I’m trying.” “Just take a deep breath and bear down. I need to loosen you up some or this will never work. I won’t hurt you.” The next time Micah’s fingertip pressed against his hole, Dave breathed in and exhaled. Micah’s finger popped through the ring of muscle and held firm, unmoving. His tongue returned to lave around the stretched portal. Ever so slowly, Micah began to move his finger back and forth, going deeper with every pass until Dave was shoving down, whimpering for more. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird. He’d fingered himself a time or two, but it felt nothing like this. The introduction of a second finger made Dave ache, and the third made him burn. Micah’s digits twisted inside him, pressing upward, and ecstasy sparked deep within. Without conscious thought, Dave clenched down. A burst of heat that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with pleasure filled his channel. “Oh, Micah…” His lover’s tongue was hot and wet, the fingers stiff and agile. If Micah kept going, Dave was going to come just from being licked and fingered. Now that he’d had a small taste of what it was like to be on the receiving end of ass-play he wanted more…so much more. Micah’s slick fingers scissored inside Dave, expanding his channel as wide as possible. Then he slowly withdrew and 95

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rose to his knees, leaving Dave empty and aching. “You’re about as loose as I can get you with my fingers. Feel ready for more?” “God, yes.” Micah trailed the back of his fingers over Dave’s sac. “You are so sexy. I can’t wait to feel you around me.” Dave’s face heated. “I’m ready. Give it to me.” There he was, spread out and naked, wanton and damn near to the point of begging for another man’s cock in his ass, and he was blushing because of a compliment. It made no sense, but it was simply the way things were. He’d never taken praise well. Dave watched with hungry eyes as Micah rolled a condom down his jutting shaft. Now that Dave knew where that dick was going, Micah appeared even larger than he had before. The spidery blue veins curving around his rod bulged in anticipation of the ride to come. “Here we go,” Micah warned. He gripped his erection around the base and aimed it downward. The blunt end rubbed through the crevice between Dave’s cheeks and then centered over his hole. The pressure against Dave’s hole increased until the tiny ring of muscle had no choice but to give way to Micah’s insistent bid for entry. The head popped through and a sharp lance of pain shot through Dave’s groin, stealing his breath. Micah’s nostrils flared, a thin trail of perspiration dripping down his temple. “You have to relax, sweetheart. The worst is over, I promise. Take a deep breath and push down against 96

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me. I won’t move until you’re ready for more.” “Do it,” Dave pleaded. He hadn’t come this far to back out. He could take a little pain if it led to pleasure. A pregnant moment passed and then Micah nodded. “Just tell me if you need me to stop.” “I will.” A devout look of concentration twisted Micah’s features as he edged forward, filling Dave one agonizing inch at a time. Realistically, Dave knew Micah’s cock wasn’t huge, but damn if he didn’t feel enormous. Dave’s grip on his legs tightened, holding them back against his chest as Micah filled him. “Oh, fuck. You’re big.” “No,” Micah groaned, his voice guttural. “You’re just really damn tight.” His hips jerked forward, his balls slapping against Dave’s ass. Finally all the way in, he was left with nowhere else to go, but that didn’t stop Micah from grinding against Dave, the crisp hair around the base of his dick abrading the sensitive, taut flesh surrounding Dave’s entrance. He didn’t withdraw and begin to pump, as Dave expected, but held himself still and panted. “God, Dave, tell me I can move. I’m dying here.” “Yeah. Move. Just go slow.” The burn was intense, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Micah’s eyes. Dave thought he could happily accept the small bite of pain if it meant putting that look on his lover’s face. His lover. God, that sounded wonderful. Dave glanced down the length of his torso, to his flagging erection. The knowledge that Micah was inside him awed 97

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Dave, but the sex, itself, had to get better. If the itchy heaviness in his bottom was as good as it got, he had no idea why there were so many people who enjoyed anal sex. No way did this full feeling inspire the ecstasy he’d seen on Micah’s face earlier. Micah’s fingers bit into the sides of Dave’s thighs, gaining leverage, and then he slowly dragged his hips backward. His cock retreated, the head brushing over something that sent sparks of lightning up Dave’s spine. Dave stiffened and moaned, his teeth clenching against the unexpected dose of pleasure. At what Dave guessed was the halfway point, Micah shuffled forward and sank deep inside. Then he did it again, and again. The languorous tempo slowly increased until Micah’s groin was snapping back and forth as he hammered into Dave with all he had. His brow furrowed, Micah chewed on his lower lip and alternated his gaze from Dave’s face to the spot where their bodies were joined. The tiny ember of erotic fire increased with the pace of Micah’s strokes. Friction caused an inferno of need. Dave fought hard to keep his eyes open, while his lips parted to suck in ragged gulps of air. He couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen as his body burned with desire. Every single pump of Micah’s hips stoked the flames of passion deep within him, lighting him up from the inside out. His erection returned to full, throbbing life and bounced back against his stomach with every jarring thrust. Sweat glistened on Micah’s skin. The pale hair around his 98

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temples and forehead was drenched in moisture and clung to his face. The ropy muscles in his chest and arms flexed and released with every forward lunge. Dave had never seen anything sexier in his life. Micah’s hips swiveled and rocked back and forth, massaging Dave’s sweet spot until he thought his eyes would cross from the electrifying sensations whipping through his body. His sac shrank, pulling his balls up to hug the base of his length, and every muscle in his body clenched, his ass clamping down as Micah pistoned into him. He slammed his head back against the soft cushion of the pillow as starbursts of white light exploded behind his closed eyelids. Ecstasy raced through his loins and detonated in near painful bursts of pleasure. Cum fountained from his dick without a single touch, his jism wildly spraying into the air, then falling to his torso in rapidly cooling puddles. Micah grunted and pushed deep, jerking against Dave as he found his own pleasure. The thick cock inside Dave expanded and pulsed while Micah shook against him, howling out what sounded like a guttural version of Dave’s name. *

*

*

After a long, hot and steamy shower together, Dave and Micah collapsed onto the bed next to each other. A tiny voice in the back of Dave’s mind screamed that Micah would get up any minute and leave. But that didn’t appear to be the case at all. Micah looked relaxed and more than comfortable, his lean body stretched out on display across Dave’s bed, his hands 99

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resting behind his head. Dave wished he could be so at ease with the turn of events. Making love to Micah had been mind-blowing. So much so, that it had cemented his feelings for the other man. He’d been half in love with Micah before, but the emotions ran deeper now. If harsh reality slapped him in the face, he didn’t know how he’d react. He was sure he’d live, probably go on as he always had, but it would be damn hard. Micah had repeatedly said how much he wanted Dave, but was it just sex? If the night had only been about scratching an itch, Dave wanted to know. His mind spinning, Dave propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at his lover. He cleared the frog out of his throat. “Where do you see this going?” Micah opened his eyes and blinked up at Dave in confusion. “What do you mean?” “This? Us? Hell, is there even going to be an us?” “I want there to be.” “You do?” “Yeah,” Micah said. “But there are some things you need to know about me.” “Okay,” Dave said, lead settling in the pit of his stomach. This would be where Micah told him he didn’t like commitment and wanted to have an open relationship. Or where Micah admitted that he had a drug problem—no, probably not that one, considering what he did for a living, but it would be something. “I snore, I hog the covers, and I don’t like to share. I’m not 100

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interested in three-ways or an open relationship of any kind.” “I’m not either—” “Wait,” Micah interrupted. “Let me finish.” “Go ahead.” “All right. Well, I leave my dirty clothes on the floor and forget to pick them up, no matter how many times someone reminds me. And last, but not least, I don’t like porn.” “You don’t like porn?” “I know. I’m a freak of nature. But it’s just so cheesy, and the music is always terrible, and the guys are so fake you can almost make out the ‘Made In China’ tagged on their asses.” Micah took a deep breath. “I’d much rather have the real thing, or think about the real thing, than watch a cheap simulation of it.” David laughed. “Is that it? Are you through?” “I think so, yeah.” “Okay. Well, just so you know what you’d be getting yourself into by being with me…I grind my teeth when I sleep. I don’t know if I hog the covers, but I have a crazy dog who does. And, finally, I love you. If you’re willing to overlook my peculiarities, I think I can deal with your abnormal dislike of porn. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly normal myself.” “No? Really?” Micah gasped and jerked back, staring down at him with comically wide eyes. Dave tugged Micah down for a kiss. “Smart ass.” “Well, it’s better than being a dumb ass.” Micah laughed and hugged Dave. “Just for the record,” he added, with every 101

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trace of humor wiped from his expression. “I love you, too— peculiarities and all.” “Oh, yeah?” Dave said, his heart full to bursting. “You love me enough to get freaky with me?” Micah grinned and leaned in to kiss Dave. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

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AMANDA YOUNG

Amanda Young is a multi-published, erotic romance author. Since she tends to write whatever strikes her whimsy, all of her novels fall into various subgenres. You never know what merry adventure her evil muse will devise next. Basically, she writes stories about people who love indiscriminately and wholeheartedly. Her characters are never perfect; they’re flawed and oftentimes troubled. Which makes it that much more satisfying when they receive the happy ending we all deserve. No matter what genre her books fall into, she can guarantee they’ll end with a happily ever after. In her opinion, it’s just not a romance without one. For more information about Amanda and her writing, please visit her website: http://www.AmandaYoung.org

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