Dreaming in Color

DREAMING IN COLOR Cameron Dane

www.loose-id.com

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Dreaming in Color Cameron Dane This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 870 Market St, Suite 1201 San Francisco CA 94102-2907 www.loose-id.com Copyright © July 2009 by Cameron Dane All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

ISBN 978-1-59632-978-2 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: G. G. Royale Cover Artist: Anne Cain

Dedication For Lilly. You'll get to read my stories in about ten years, if you are still interested. Maybe by then I will have written a book about a lady ghost, as you recently suggested. Or maybe you'll write one of your own. You're always full of good ideas. Love you.

Prologue Oh God, I'm drowning. The swirling tentacles of the undertow wrapped themselves around Colin Baxter's legs and tugged, trying to pull him under the raging waves of water. Surrounded by a sea of moonlit sapphire blue, Colin fought to stay above the tide. Swim, damn it, swim. You know how to do it. Colin treaded water, turning in a circle, frantic for a direction in which to go. A beacon of red suddenly showed itself in the distance, as if beckoning Colin home. The flash of color disappeared with one blink of Colin's eyes, but it no longer mattered. His arms and legs could now feel the location to which he was supposed to swim. Colin wasted no time and started swimming freestyle toward an endpoint that existed only in his mind. Swells of water pushed him halfway backward for every ten strokes he progressed; after what seemed like hours, Colin slowed, his body battered in a way that brought back nightmares from long ago. “Help me,” a rough male voice rippled across the night sky. Colin jerked and whipped his head around, searching for a body to go with the words he had heard. Nothing. Just water and more water, illuminated by the light of a bright, full moon. Exhausted, wanting to give up and sink to the bottom of the ocean, Colin gritted his teeth; something inside him refused to slip under the water. The strange pull of the suspended red object drove him to move once again. His muscles screamed with every churn of his arms and kick of his legs, but he could not stop. Something beyond his ability to physically endure drove him forward, swimming toward…nothing. “Help me.” Ragged desperation laced the male voice again, haunting Colin.

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Angering him too. Revived emotions gave fuel to Colin's depleted body. Maybe if you help me, buddy, I could help you. Colin could only think the snapping retort in his mind. His burning lungs would not allow him to speak. A white light flashed through the night sky right then, and everything moved in fast-forward, like in a film. Colin existed in a place of limbo, floating above his body. He saw quick snapshots of himself swimming, making progress toward a shoreline as the night sky changed with stop-motion progression and became a blindingly sunny afternoon. Crashing down into his own body once again, Colin fell face-first into pure white sand, the warmth of which seeped into his nakedness and slowly brought his chilled body back to life. Colin's lungs heaved, and he sucked in great gulps of air, greedy for the oxygen. As his breathing returned to normal, he pulled his arms and legs under him and stood. He looked up, and his knees nearly collapsed him right back down to the sand. In front of him, a colonial-style home sat up off the beach. Painted pristine white with black shutters, it had an unusual blue tile roof. Above the door, a rectangular stained glass window shone bright with multiple colors, but Colin barely took note of the design. The door itself commanded his full attention, gleaming in the sunlight with its shiny coat of bright red paint. “Holy shit.” Colin blinked, certain the home must be a mirage. He opened his eyes, and there it still stood. And that door. That fucking cherry red door filled his vision. His legs no longer lethargic, Colin trekked up the beach to a sandy path surrounded by tropical greenery on both sides and came to a stop at the bottom of the steps of the majestic porch. He walked up the stairs slowly, mindful of the smooth wood under his feet, as well as the cool metal of the railing under his hand. Reaching the landing, he planted his foot, and the creak of the porch caught his attention, drawing forth a smile. I'm going to have to remind him again to fix that. The thought not only filled Colin's brain without hesitation, but also tugged at his heart with a sense of indulgence. Everything, down to the very foundation of the house, spoke to him without words and enveloped him in invisible arms. Colin crossed the porch and reached out to touch the door, laying his palms flat on the shiny surface. He swore a pulse beat beneath his hands. “How did I see you from so far away?” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to the wood. “Why did you save me?” A different weight, a very real, male weight, pressed into Colin from behind, trapping him against the door. Hot skin brushed his bare back and warm lips came to rest at his ear. “You're here. I prayed you would come.” The man spoke with a voice full of gravel, and his breath fanned Colin's skin, triggering a little shiver.

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“I don't…” Big hands slid down Colin's sides and over his stomach, rubbing his lower belly and then slipping farther down, circling his cock. With first contact, Colin traded his protest for a moan. The man pressed Colin into the door, stroked his rapidly growing erection, and sent every last confusing thought in Colin's head into a tailspin. He didn't know where he was, who owned this house, or why he felt he should walk inside and stake ownership. At the moment, he no longer cared. Colin braced his hands high on the door frame and spread his legs so he looked like a big X. He pumped his hips into the rough-skinned hold of the man teasing his cock, forcing greater friction. His cockhead pearled beads of precum with every slide of his dick in the man's tight-fisted hold, releasing the smell of sex into the already humid air. The unknown man's prick grew and pressed against the cleft of Colin's ass, nudging at a place that did not have an opening. Colin's ass channel pulsed with need, pounding in time with the beating of his throbbing, hard cock. “Lower.” Colin groaned and shifted, sticking out his ass. “Get it into my hole.” The guy abruptly let go of Colin's erection, making Colin whimper with the loss. Quickly, the man slid one hand around Colin's waist and down into his crease, not stopping until he fingered Colin's pucker. “I know how to fuck another man.” He growled the words, making them vibrate against the back of Colin's neck. The man toyed with Colin's entrance, playing, but didn't push his finger inside. Colin bit his cheek to keep from screaming. Good God, he didn't understand it, but he wanted this anonymous person to fuck him. “Then do it.” Colin bumped back into the muscular body. “Please.” The stranger replaced the tip of his finger with the head of his cock, wrapped his arm around Colin's waist, and pushed his way inside Colin's ass. Colin groaned as the thick, hard length stretched his hole and claimed his channel. The man grasped Colin's hip and started to move, fucking Colin with the smoothest damn slide of cock he had ever experienced. Colin thrust his backside out to meet every measured piercing of this anonymous dick, glorying in the sensations that took over his body and drove him to crave more, no matter that he'd had no preparation for the taking at all. Dropping his head and staring at the porch floor, Colin bit his cheek, barely enduring the pleasure of the man behind him, in him, nearly surrounding him. “Oh God…” Colin bore his forehead into the red door and reached back to grab the man's hips, needing to feel some additional connection but unable to turn his body around. “Who are you?” Colin moaned as that wonderful length filled his ass to the hilt again. “You feel so fucking good.” “You need to find me.” Muscular, deeply tanned arms engulfed Colin, and a thick wall of chest and flat stomach plastered to his back. “I don't know where you are.” Still caught in the tangle of the man's sexual web, Colin couldn't think about or feel anything but the intimacy of the fucking. “I'm here.”

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“No, you're not.” Lips pressed into the strands of hair covering the back of Colin's neck, lingering with a kiss. “I won't make it without you.” As soon as the words were spoken, the weight, the presence, behind Colin lightened, left his body, and faded away.

***** “No!” Shooting upright in the darkness of his own bedroom, Colin fought the sensation of drowning once again…as well as the fiercely painful arousal of his body. With one hand already firmly around his cock and the fingers of the other buried in his ass, Colin dragged his fist up and down his dick in a furious rhythm, pulling his length past the point of pain in agony of release. He struggled to remember pieces of the man from his dream: the vaguely sweaty smell of his skin, the imprint of his palm pressed into Colin's stomach, the gritty texture of his voice, the length of his cock mastering Colin's ass. Colin's rectum squeezed, as if it recalled the dream too. He shoved his fingers deep into his chute and fucked himself, trying to re-create a three-dimensional picture that was already fading fast. The nerve endings in his prick wanted more of that rough hand so Colin gave his body both, writhing on his bed. He lifted his legs and spread them at an awkward angle, jerking and fucking himself at the same time. The smell of plant life and ocean filled his nostrils, and a fading hint of the stranger's lips whispered a touch against the back of his neck. The feel of the man's lush lower lip lingered and triggered Colin's release. His passage contracted around his fingers is a series of spasms, and he yanked his cock as he spewed, sending ejaculate spraying in milky lines across his trembling stomach. It took long minutes before Colin came down from the high of orgasm and withdrew his digits from his ass. His body now sated, Colin remained lying in the dark with cum streaking down his sides, shaking, too disturbed by his dream to move. One thought filled his head: I just met my future.

***** Marek Donovan stood on the deck of the boat, staring at the first house the local realtor showed him. Once upon a time, the two-story colonial-style home probably held the envy of the natives and visitors alike, with its size and stature. A dirty stained glass window, in a design that looked like it might be a family crest, sat above the front door. Back in the day, the house had probably been something grand to see. Today, the porch sagged on one side, the white siding could be mistaken for gray, and there was more than one blue tile shingle missing from the roof. Sad. Pathetic. It was a structural hazard that nobody would come near with a ten-foot pole. Marek slid on his sunglasses and said, “I'll take it.” “But, sir.” The realtor grabbed his arm. “You've only glanced in the front door. I haven't shown you the rooms or grounds. We haven't discussed price.”

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Marek glanced down at the woman's hand on his arm, and then looked into her eyes. She gasped and stepped away. Good. “I said, I'll take it.” Looking at the house one more time, Marek gritted his teeth as the memory from long ago hit him in the gut. “On one condition.” He didn't wait for the woman to nod. “Hire someone to come in and tear down that goddamned red door. I don't want to have to look at it again.” He went below deck to drink a beer in celebration of his new life. Alone.

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Chapter One “Oh yeah, that's it. That's it.” His lover held Colin's head in place and shoved his prick into Colin's mouth, filling him to the throat. Colin clutched the man's hips with digging fingers and held on tight, moaning as his own arousal grew with every deep pull on his partner's dick. After two years, he doesn't feel like a stranger to me anymore. Even if I still don't know his face or name. “Fuck.” Colin's phantom lover moaned and yanked on his hair, hissing as Colin licked the underside of his prick with the flat of his tongue. “You suck good cock.” Colin craved the salty taste of this man's penis, skin, mouth, and ass more and more every night, even though a part of his brain now fully understood and accepted this was just a dream and that he walked around in it with a state of semiawareness. Colin no longer cared. It didn't matter that he could never get a full picture of his dream lover, and that his face lived in shadows that even sunlight could not penetrate. Once Colin got close to the white house, absorbed its welcoming warmth, and touched the red door, he knew the man would somehow appear, needing Colin, and that Colin could open himself up in a way he never had in real life, give peace to this man, and somehow have better sex than he ever had with a corporeal being. The smooth, velvety texture of his lover's erection sliding in and out of Colin's mouth became more erratic; his breathing grew more labored, and his body grew tense. Colin redoubled his efforts, reached between the man's legs, and cupped his high, tight balls. Giving them a little rub and tug, Colin pulled back on the length of his lover's cock with incredible suction and teased the extrasensitive head. Silently, the man shuddered, kept his hands buried in Colin's hair, and came. Warm spits of his sweet-tasting semen dropped on the back of Colin's tongue and slid

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down his throat, entwining their connection even more deeply. Colin stayed with his lover all the way through his orgasm, gentling his sucking with every wave, until his hair was finally released. Abruptly, the man turned and dropped down on all fours, presenting Colin with his ass. “I want you.” With his head hanging low, shadowing him, his voice was muffled by his body. He didn't turn around as he said, “Take me, Colin. Make me yours.” Colin's heart stopped then raced. “We've never…” “I know.” The man reached back and pulled aside one ass cheek, revealing his bud. “I want to feel you there. It's time.” Colin crawled forward, leaking a line of precum onto the hardwood floor, just at the sight of his lover's dark asshole. His cock jumped with excitement, and his chest squeezed at this additional level of trust. Colin moaned low in his throat at this new opportunity. He reached out to flick the striated entrance with his thumb—

***** A fist suddenly jammed into Colin's upper arm with incredible strength, hurling him back to reality. He blinked, struggling to shake off the dream as he rubbed his shoulder and glared at the woman—his best friend Jordan—sitting next to him. “Having one of those dreams again?” she asked, raising a perfectly plucked brow. “What?” Good God. Colin glanced around the small airplane and felt his face heat. He had never dreamed about the house and phantom lover in public before. Always, he was at home in his apartment, at night, in bed. Why in the hell, after two years, would he suddenly have one of his dreams in the middle of the day, surrounded by a collection of friends and strangers? Well, you don't get on many planes, which is one of the few ways that would lead to you fall asleep around other people. Use some common sense. Unable to shake off the unease, Colin shifted his focus to the bride-to-be. “What's the matter?” he asked Jordan. “Why did you wake me up?” “Because you're sporting a major boner.” She opened the in-flight magazine and tossed it on his lap. “I didn't think you wanted that to reach its inevitable conclusion while you're sitting on a plane with a hundred other people.” “Thank you.” Colin took a few deep breaths and clamped his teeth as he discreetly adjusted himself, searching for some easing of discomfort. God, he was hard. “I should be fine in a few minutes.” “Let's hope.” Jordan reached across his body and pointed out the window. “Because I think we're almost there.” Colin followed the line of Jordan's finger, and his heart started hammering as two islands, peppered on various sides by smaller islets, came into view. The pure turquoise mass of water slowly became darker blue the closer the water got to the iris of white

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sand beaches surrounding the islands. Lush green exploded within the inner portion of land, and nestled within the sea of trees, Colin could see the rooftops of some of the larger structures covered in terra-cotta tiles. Somewhere on the coast of the island Vanua Levu was a large bungalow where Colin and a handful of friends, three of whom also happened to be his partners in a private investigation firm back home in Austin, would live for the next ten days. Jordan whistled, and Colin could hear the murmurs of appreciation from other passengers on the plane as they looked out their windows too. “Man,” she said, “I think your suggestion of Fiji is going to end up being a great one. Would you look at how fucking beautiful that water is? I don't care that it's costing me and Tag a fortune. It will be worth it to have this celebration with no stress, only friends and Tag's immediate family.” Turning from the window, Colin grinned at Jordan. “You're going to be a beautiful bride.” He took her hand and squeezed. “I can already see you crying like a baby when you exchange your vows under the setting sun.” “Shut up.” Jordan punched him again. “I will not.” As an investigator and part owner of their business, Jordan took great offense at anyone accusing her of anything too girly. “Should we make a bet?” Jordan scrunched her brow at him, but shifted her focus through the window and back to the beauty below them. “What made you think of Fiji?” she asked. The pull of the islands drew Colin's stare again too. “Don't know.” He found his attention shifting from the main islands to the scattering of smaller ones, and couldn't shake the strange sensation of familiarity. “I must have read something or saw something on the Travel Channel.” Saying that aloud made Colin wonder if that was where the house on the beach in his dreams originated. Maybe it was as simple as seeing something beautiful on TV, and it implanting a bug in his subconscious. Tropical islands were certainly a far cry from Austin, Texas, or, more, Henderson, the smaller town in East Texas where he'd grown up, so he knew the setting hadn't come from his everyday life. “I didn't know when I threw the suggestion of Fiji out there that you'd actually jump at it.” Brushing the window with his fingertips, Colin imagined he reached through and touched the sand on the beach, already knowing it would be warm and ultrafine…because his feet had already stood in it, and he had already sank his toes into the smooth dampness of it as the water from the ocean lapped at its edges. “I don't know why,” Jordan murmured, “but when you said Fiji, something inside me knew it was right. After that, I couldn't imagine getting married anywhere else.” “Speaking of your wedding, where's Tag?” Colin mentioned Jordan's fiancé. He had been sitting next to the guy before having the dream. “Shouldn't you be sitting with him sharing this first view?”

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“All that man is thinking about is 'Where are the topless beaches?' and 'Will I have to eat fish and fruit the entire time we're here?'“ Jordan chuckled and pushed a few strands of short auburn hair behind her ear. “He's a few rows up. You nodded off on him so he came and got me, then went to talk with his dad. I think he might have gotten a glimpse at your hard-on.” Colin shifted and removed the magazine from over his crotch. “Problem resolved.” Jordan glanced down at Colin's lap. “So I see.” The mischievous twinkle in her soft brown eyes quickly turned subdued. “Are you really all right? Maybe you need to talk to someone about the power of these dreams. You shouldn't be hiding in them and living a life with someone who isn't real. Maybe they're just a manifestation of something buried deep inside you, and until you take care of whatever that is, they won't go away.” The dreams probably were about himself; Colin reluctantly accepted the truth in that, even though when he was asleep, everything about them felt so damn real and right, like he was supposed to be in that house with that man. If the dreams really were just a manifestation of himself, Colin didn't want to resolve whatever damage in his life or thoughts were responsible for creating them. If he did, the house and its owner would disappear. Colin didn't know if he would be able to handle the loss. “Colin?” “I'm fine,” Colin insisted. A dinging sound captured Colin and Jordan's attention, and the FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT sign soon followed. Colin closed his eyes and prepared for descent.

***** Colin braced his hands on the railing of the schooner, closing his eyes as the wind created by the speeding boat rushed over his face and rippled the fabric of his khaki shorts and T-shirt. Sun and heat beat down on his skin, and the occasional spray of water kicking up from the ocean tickled his arms and legs. Chatter from his friends carried over the wind flapping in the boat's sails; they all “oohed” and “ahhed” at the view. They also relentlessly teased Jordan for forcing them out on this boat tour when they'd barely set down their luggage in the rented bungalow. She told them they could rest in ten days when they got home, but while in Fiji, they were going to cram every damn bit of touristy fun in, even if it killed them. They would all bow to the woman's schedule for the next few days. Once the wedding took place and Jordan and Tag moved to the privacy of a honeymoon suite at one of Fiji's resort hotels, the rest of the small group would count on Tag to keep his bride very occupied. Especially since the woman had enforced a “no sex” rule since

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announcing their engagement four months ago. Tag had made no secret of complaining about his blue balls. Colin was happy for Jordan and Tag and even for his other travelmates, Alison and Tom, and Sylvia and Gayle. But damn, he did not kid himself that traveling with three happy couples wouldn't sting. Jordan had encouraged Colin to invite someone, but ever since he broke up with his previous partner and then started having the dreams, he didn't feel a connection to any man he would have wanted to bring to such a special occasion. At least none that exist outside of my head. To bring a virtual stranger on a trip halfway around the world, to have him sit there and watch a very dear friend get married… Something felt very dishonest about that. The deck shifted under Colin's feet as the boat slowed down, and he opened his eyes to the bright afternoon sun. He slid his sunglasses off the neck of his shirt, slipped them on, and noticed the boat decelerated as it approached the first in a series of small islands. As the boat slowly coasted past the first, Sylvia, the third partner in their PI firm, said to her girlfriend, “Honey, when we retire, we are going to live here. In that house.” She pointed at a bungalow-style home on stilts; the front portion of the house had a balcony that jutted out over the water. Her partner Gayle laughed and drew Sylvia into her arms. Sylvia leaned in for a kiss, and the woman's mahogany skin gleamed with pearly-dark shine against Gayle's pale coloring. Gayle's hand slid down Sylvia's back, and she tugged the woman in close with a hand cupped on her ass. “Break it up, ladies,” Tag said, drawing everyone's attention. He pointed at everyone in the group and added, “Nobody gets any nookie on this vacation until I do.” Everyone booed and hissed, and Jordan stood up on her tiptoes to cover her fiancé's mouth with her hand. Laughing and mock accusations of retribution ensued. Alison, the final member of PI ownership, finally busted everyone up in her very organized way, pointing the group back in the direction of the spectacular sights all around them. It was all very heartwarming; these people were Colin's extended family. And he had never felt more alone in his life. The boat continued on its journey, floating by more bungalow-style homes with each beachfront property they passed, and soon Colin dropped his attention to the water, letting the brilliant color, the reflection of the sun, and the steady rise and fall of the waves lull him into a half-trancelike state. The familiar scent of strawberries and vanilla tickled his nose, and a second later, Jordan bumped her shoulder into his biceps. “Doing okay?” she asked. Hell. Half a day in, and I'm already turning into a pity case. “Yep. I'm fine.” He even plastered on a big, cheesy smile for his friend.

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Jordan didn't look like she believed him. “Okay.” She took a sip from one of her ever-present bottles of water. “The skipper says we'll circle around the last island and coast up the other side. Then we'll head back for some rest. All right?” Colin stooped down and pecked a kiss on Jordan's cheek. “I promise I'm having fu—” The boat swung around the final island in the chain right then, and Colin's heart dropped right into his stomach. The picture before his eyes provoked a stir from his cock too. Holy shit. I do not believe it. Colin's heart stopped, and he had to blink and look again more than twice. But his eyes did not deceive him. On the back end of the island stood the house in Colin's dreams.

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Chapter Two Colin stared at the house from his dreams, dumbfounded, angered, and confused. What the hell happened to my house? A rush of possession and fury rocked through Colin, and he barely suppressed the urge to jump out of the boat and swim to shore so he could confront his phantom lover about the ramshackle condition of their home. Colin didn't have to research ownership of the residence; a certainty in his gut, a rush of anticipation simmering right under his skin, told him that a single man lived in this house. The same man who had been making love to him for two years in his dreams. Son of a mother. The house was in complete disrepair, and Colin wasn't sure he would have recognized it without the stained glass window or the unusual tiles on the roof, even though there were now a few patches of rusty-red colored ones mixed in among the Wedgwood blue. The siding didn't look like anyone had pressure washed it in years, and even if they had, the pristine white beneath was probably permanently faded to a dull gray with age. And where the fuck was the red door? The boat continued to move, and soon the house slid out of sight. Colin rushed down the length of the deck to the back end of the boat and leaned over the railing, searching for just one more little peek of the house, anything to convince himself he hadn't hallucinated the entire thing. Jordan, fast on Colin's heels, clapped her hands in front of his face. “Are you okay?” she asked. “That place we just passed,” Colin said, his focus still in the direction of the house, even though they had circled the line of islands to the opposite side and he could no longer see it. “The one that looked like it was falling apart.”

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“With the blue tiles on the roof?” So I really did see it. “That would be the one. Excuse me for one second.” Colin grabbed Jordan's arms and moved her aside. “I'll be right back.” He needed to talk to the skipper about renting a speedboat tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, Colin would have a name and face to go with the body in his dreams. He wanted some answers too.

***** “Where are you sneaking off to so early in the morning?” Colin jumped, then spun to find Tag entering the kitchen through a sliding glass door. “God, man.” Colin slumped against the counter. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” “Sorry.” Tag grabbed a T-shirt off the back of a chair and used it to wipe his face, neck, and chest. His dark hair glistened with moisture, and he rubbed the material through it too. “Just coming in from a run on the beach.” After opening the fridge, Colin grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it in Tag's direction. “Looks like you tested the water as well.” “Thanks.” Tag cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long drag, wiping his mouth when he finished. “Didn't plan for a swim, but I couldn't resist.” He stepped back through the open doorway and shook himself off outside. “After running three miles, the ocean wasn't as cool and refreshing as I'd hoped.” “A nice cold shower ought to do the trick.” Colin slid a glance Tag's way, noticing what appeared to be his perpetual case of half wood. “For a number of reasons.” Tag openly shifted his dick around in his loose-fitting trunks. “Yeah, but that's all gonna change as soon as I say 'I do.' Meanwhile, you're still gonna be yanking the snake on your own.” Colin immediately pictured long lines of a thickly muscled, tan body in his mind, and he swore the callused tips of his dream lover's work-roughened fingers lingered on his cock with a gossamer-light touch. “Well, well, well,” Tag said, pulling Colin back into the kitchen. “What is this little smile for?” He poked Colin in the cheek with his finger. “Did you pick up an island guy already?” More like picked up a guy with an island. Maybe. Colin crumpled the note he'd been writing and tossed it in the trash. “Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”

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“Lay it on me.” Tag leaned against the counter and crossed his arms against his chest. “I'll do what I can.” Taking a minute, Colin silently thanked a higher power for Tag. The man was a typical native Texas son in a thousand ways, all save the one that mattered most to Jordan. He accepted her friends. All of them. Early on, shortly after Tag found out Colin was gay, he had crudely, but also strangely acceptingly, said to Colin one afternoon, “As long as it ain't my ass you're trying to fuck, I don't really give a shit what you are. Now, can you tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do to get Jordan to take me seriously? I really, really like your ball-busting friend.” In the beginning, it might not have hurt that Colin's six feet of height towered over Tag's muscular but compact five-feet-nine-inch frame. Quickly, though, none of that superficial stuff seemed to matter. Colin appreciated Tag's straightforward nature; he'd learned the guy was a closet romantic, and he now considered Tag nearly as good a friend as he did Jordan. They each understood the woman in a way nobody else in this world did. Colin met Tag's gaze, speaking only after carefully considering his words. “I have to do something on my own today, and I need you to talk Jordan down from inciting a full-on investigation to track my steps and figure out what it is.” Colin knew Tag's ultimate loyalty lay with Jordan—as it should—but the man also understood the inquisitive pushiness of his woman. “It's something I need to do on my own. Right now I can't say anything more, for the simple fact that I don't have all the answers myself.” “Should I worry about you?” Tag asked. “I won't do anything to help you if you're doing something stupid.” “You know me better than that.” Colin was a numbers guy, and he liked things orderly and to make sense. He did not work as an investigator in their PI firm; he made sure it ran without a hitch. At the end of the day, it was his job to see that the books always added up, employees and owners alike did the job the client hired them to do, and that they did it as effectively and efficiently as possible. Colin's life had only gotten out of his control once, and he never wanted to experience that kind of pain again. It was also why, now that he knew the house from his dreams actually existed, he felt certain the man did too, and he craved knowledge about them both. I might finally be able to get some answers to why they're both living in my head every night. Colin made eye contact with Tag and tried to drill understanding into the man with his stare. “What I have to do could be really important, and I can't have Jordan breathing down my neck today.” After a long, tense moment, Tag nodded. “Okay, but you need to promise you'll call me at noon to let me know you're all right. I'll flip my phone to vibrate, and you can leave a message or a text so it doesn't rouse Jordan's curiosity. I'll check it discreetly, but I want to see something there from you.” Tag pointed at Colin as he crossed the kitchen. “And be back in time for dinner.”

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Colin's ease with this man somehow settled inside him even deeper. “You're going to be a really good dad one day,” he said softly. Tag dipped his head. “Don't worry about Jordan. You do what you need to do.” “Thanks.” Colin waved, but Tag had already disappeared into the living room. Time to go meet my dream.

***** Colin jumped off the dock and landed on the beach, stumbling as jitters turned his legs weak. He remained kneeling in the warmth of the soft sand for a prolonged moment, letting the memory of being here absorb into his pores. The water cresting and retreating at his back invaded his ears, mixing with the screeches and squawks of birds he could not see. The heady fragrance of brightly colored flowers littering the outer edge of jungle greenery mingled in his nasal passages with the pungent strands of giant, leafy trees. Colin looked up, and although the house did not reflect much of the picture in his hundreds of dreams, the draw to touch its walls, to step over its threshold, still guided him to his feet. I am home. Crazy. Colin knew this was goddamned fucking crazy, yet he moved across the beach to the sandy walkway, living a world of déjà vu. He made it up the stairs, and sure enough, the porch floor creaked with the weight of his shoe settling down on it. Wishing he could wander around barefoot and truly feel the house under his feet, Colin's first view of the unfinished planks made him glad he'd worn sneakers with his jeans and T-shirt, no matter that he knew the temperature would rise quickly and make him regret not wearing shorts. Colin reached the unpainted—naked—door and put his hands to it, searching for the warmth. A wave of forlorn despair washed over him at first touch, repelling him physically backward, as if the house threw him off it. “No, I'm here now,” he said, to God only knew who. “I won't let you reject me when I've just found you.” Moving forward again, his steps a little more tentative this time, Colin rapped his knuckles against the wood. He left his fist resting against the door for a moment, and he swore a little zap of electricity zinged against his fingers. Okay then. Now or never. “Hello? Anybody home?” Colin chewed on the inside of his cheek and beads of sweat started trickling down the back of his neck. Nervous energy didn't even begin to describe the vibrations humming inside him, but he dug his shoes into the porch so he didn't turn tail and run. This is it. No changing your mind now.

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Colin stood smack in front of the door, terrified and excited by whoever existed on the other side…until nobody answered. He waited one more minute and knocked again, calling out another hello. Only the island birds answered. Deflated after flying so high on anticipation, Colin muttered, “How can you be my destiny if you aren't here to answer?” A strong breeze kicked up right then, carrying with it the tangy smell of the Pacific Ocean. The wind rustled panels of gauzy white fabric on either side of the porch, making Colin notice for the first time that the windows were ajar. Once seen, there was no way Colin could unknow that information. “Open windows could mean an unlocked door.” He talked out loud, perhaps hoping someone would pop out of the thick trees surrounding the house and tell him to go for it. Scrunching his face, Colin twisted the knob, and the door popped open. God, you fucking idiot. You're going to get arrested for trespassing. That is, if whoever owns this place doesn't put a bullet or a knife in you first. Fully aware, Colin eased the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside. “I just know I'm going to end up in a foreign jail.” He paused right inside the door, but kept his hand wrapped around the knob, taking strength in the heat sinking into his hand. “Hello? Is anybody home? My name is Colin Baxter, and I'd like to speak to the owner of this house.” “Owner doesn't like people on his property.” A deep male voice bludgeoned the morning air with the heaviness of a sledgehammer, whipping Colin around in search of a body. To his left, the rustle of dried leaves crackled, and, holy shit, Colin set eyes on the man who owned his dreams. Sort of. A man stood at the side of the house, half his body and face in shadows. From the guy's profile, Colin could see a thatch of thick dark hair fell to his shoulders and what looked like a couple days' growth of beard covered his jaw. A denim shirt and khaki pants covered a body a little bit leaner than the one Colin already knew intimately in his mind, but it certainly did not suffer a lack of muscles. Not even close. Colin's very being ached to touch, to know more, and he took a step toward the man. A hand went up, stopping Colin cold. “You should leave before the owner sees you here.” The guy's sandblasted tone held warning. Careful. Be careful. In some ways, Colin felt like one of those wildlife experts on TV dealing with an unpredictable animal. Still, I know it's him. “I really can't do that,” Colin said. “It's important that I speak to him.” “He doesn't get many visitors. State your business with him, and I'll pass it along.” “Can't say.” The man shot back, “Won't say, you mean.”

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So he's quick, as well as sexy. No matter how hard the man tried to convey he was only an acquaintance of the owner, Colin knew he stood only feet away from the person who lived in this home. Literally, the man of his dreams. “I suppose that's true enough.” Colin wandered to the stairs and plunked himself right down on the top one. He planted his feet a few steps below and settled his elbows on his knees. “I still need to talk to him though.” He slid a glance to the side of the porch, fighting a nervous smile. “I can wait.” “This is private property.” The man stormed around the house, ate up the stairs in two strides, and hauled Colin to his feet with incredible strength. Nearly at eye level, he got right in Colin's face. “You need to go.” Oh my God. Piercing pure blue eyes held Colin's, hurling him backward in time. The rest of the face and body bore little resemblance to the teen Colin vaguely remembered, but something about those eyes and strong cheekbones had always captured his interest back in the neighborhood. Holy shit. Colin had fantasized and imagined a thousand different scenarios for what and who the man who haunted his dreams might be. Never once had he pictured someone he already knew. Sort of. Long, strong fingers dug into Colin's arm and pulled him down the stairs. “Get off this land”—that voice, oh God, that voice held nothing but impatience—“before I have you arrested.” Colin yanked his arm out of the bruising hold but didn't back away. In fact, he pushed a little himself. “Are you going to pretend you don't know me?” he asked. “Even when I already said my name? Because I don't need a formal introduction to the owner of this residence anymore.” Colin's focus shifted to the house. He could barely wrap his brain around the spinning of new information, and ultimately brought his gaze back to the man so close Colin could smell and feel his heat. “How the hell did you get from Bleeker Street in Henderson all the way to Fiji, Marek?” More: Why the fuck are you living in my dreams?

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Chapter Three Marek Donovan. No way; it couldn't be. Yet those pure blue eyes and sharp cheekbones stood out clear as day in Colin's mind, and he knew that it was. One year behind Marek in school, Colin had shared a few mutual neighborhood acquaintances with the teen, but they never talked much themselves. A handful of time in four years, at most. Very tough, Marek never said much, but one always felt his presence when he was nearby. Pretty much exactly like the faceless man in my dreams. Still… Marek? No way did the dude like cock. Confused as hell, Colin tore his stare off Marek's pretty eyes and looked around. As always, his attention caught on the residence and its door. “Maybe you're just a coincidence,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Maybe it's more about the house, and you just snuck in through osmosis.” “What?” Marek's voice rose. Well, at least as high as one with such gritty depth as his could. “Never mind. I don't care.” He raced across the porch and pulled the door shut. Leaning against it, he added, “Just get off my property.” Victory number one. Colin lifted his gaze to meet Marek's. “Well, at least now you're admitting you own it.” The thick stubble on Marek's cheeks and jaw flexed, and Colin thought he probably gnashed his teeth. “You're right; I do own the land and the house. It's mine. So leave. Now.” In deliberate defiance, Colin did a quarter turn and walked with careful steps down one-half length of the porch, always mindful of the body behind him. Marek. He has a name now. Start using it. Colin occasionally ran his hand over the porch railing, the windowsill, and front of the house, dirtying his fingers with the residue of neglect. On the outside, Colin maintained decorum; inside, though, a thousand questions and

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comments wiggled around fighting to spill from his lips. About Marek, about his presence in Colin's dreams, and did Colin somehow have the same role in Marek's. But equally important, Colin wanted to know about this beautiful, sad house, and why Marek had let it fall apart. He came to a pause right in front of Marek, nearly close enough for their crotches to touch. The man—Marek—didn't so much as flinch. Interesting. “You're not at all curious about why I'm here?” Colin asked. “About how I ended up on your porch, in fucking Fiji?” Marek stared back, without blinking. “No, I'm not.” Colin felt slapped, but he didn't let the sting show. “Do you even admit you once knew me?” “I do. You were”—Marek's focus lowered to Colin's chest and then finished going down, assessing thoroughly—“skinnier back then.” Shit. He is gay. Don't get too excited. Don't get hard. Swallowing past a sudden tightness in his throat, Colin answered, “A man can change a lot in a dozen years.” A small but visible jolt shook Marek right then, gaining Colin's complete attention. Colin flashed back to the first vivid dream and the pain laced in the “Help me's” that still rung loudly in his head. What the hell happened to you, Marek? Colin reached up and brushed his knuckles across the man's hard, warm cheek. Marek reared and then shoved Colin away, his eyes lighting with fire. “Don't touch me.” He circled Colin and flew down the steps, as if Colin possessed some communicable disease. Colin lifted his hands. “I apologize.” Marek's focus kept shifting to the dense trees at the side of the house, and his body strained, as if his will barely held him in place. If he ran, maybe beyond the trees to the mountain that consumed most of the small island, Colin might never get his questions answered. “Look,” he said, gentling his tone. “I know it sounds insane, but I'd like to see your house. I feel like I need to go inside.” His lips thinning to pale, Marek uttered, “Take a grand fucking tour if you want. Door's open. There isn't anything in there worth seeing or stealing.” He looked at the house with as much intolerance as he did Colin. “Don't bother to lock it on your way out.” Without looking back, Marek disappeared around the house in the same direction from which he had come. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Looking up, alone once again, Colin locked his hands behind his neck. “Well, that's not exactly how I expected this first meeting to play out.” He didn't know if he talked to God or the house. Either way, the fact that he had taken to talking out loud with nobody around to listen couldn't be a positive sign of his mental health. Colin took a stabilizing breath anyway, opened the front door, and stepped inside. “All right, house, if you have the answers, show them to me.”

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Standing statue-still, air trapped in his lungs, Colin waited for a sign: a whisper of cool air to tickle his skin, a creak or groan from the second level that would tell him where to go, or even a twinkle of light to guide his way. Silence reigned. Colin snorted and shook himself out of his stupor. “Yeah, because apparently you all of a sudden think you're a ghost hunter.” He shut the door behind him, blinked to adjust to the shadows, and truly assessed his surroundings for the first time. Directly in front of him a staircase led to the second floor. No side tables, chairs, or furniture of any kind existed in this area. The medium-shade wood on the floor and the balustrade didn't exactly gleam, but nor was it riddled with a layer of grime. The walls looked dust free too, and although the ceilings were high, Colin couldn't see any cobwebs littering the corners. So you at least like the inside of your home clean. Squared-off openings led to rooms on either side of the foyer, the layout exactly as in Colin's dreams. He moved to the left one first, pausing at the entrance. A big-screen TV, brick-colored couch, black recliner, and coffee table took up a third of the space, with the rest empty to the point that it would probably echo if he walked around in it wearing hard-soled shoes. Three long columns of white curtains hung from ceiling to floor on the front wall, breaking up the line of the large, open window. Unmoving now, with no breeze, the ends lay in gauzy puddles on the hardwood floor. Without entering, Colin turned and crossed to the opposite side of the foyer. The second room was a duplicate of the first in shape and size. With matching front window and curtains, this space held less furniture than the previous one did. Only a desk, chair, and computer occupied the area, looking rather pathetic in one corner of the room. Probably close to an electrical outlet, much like the room across the hall. Two more decent-sized rooms took up most of the rest of the downstairs. On quick inspection, they were completely empty. There was a bathroom tucked in one corner, and a kitchen ran across the back length of the house. Colin entered, and through the window over the sink, he found a surprisingly manicured backyard with a glass-enclosed structure; Colin could only assume a greenhouse. I wonder if Marek uses it, or if it is gutted inside, like much of this house. Colin's gaze drifted beyond the yard to a spectacular view of the green-covered mountain centered on the island. Hell, it looked so close Colin almost felt like, if he opened the window, he could reach out and touch it. I could live here. I could make it my home forever. Knowing that he was getting ahead of himself, Colin tore himself away from the window and kitchen. He took the stairs two at a time, forcing himself to look around the second level with detachment. Like downstairs, the hallways were free of furniture, and three of the four bedrooms were empty, dark caves with closed doors and shuttered windows. Then, Colin found Marek's bedroom. A rich, solid cherry wood bed, dresser, nightstands, and bookshelf made up the room, with curtains and a view to match the

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front rooms downstairs. Colin could see a bathroom through an open door inside, but not even his rampant need to know everything about Marek and this house would make him step into such a place of privacy. Didn't matter that Marek said he didn't care; people had to hide their secrets somewhere, and with the emptiness of every other piece of this house, Colin had to imagine Marek kept his tucked away somewhere in here. Bracing his hand on the door frame, Colin stared at the large, high bed, and his cock stiffened, pushing against his jeans. Drifting before his eyes, he saw an image of Marek nude on top of the pristine white comforter, his tan, hard body a feast of visual delight from which Colin could not pull his eyes away. With his legs spread, Marek pulled on his prick with one hand and played with his balls with the other. He had his head thrown back in a plush pile of pillows, and his ass dug into the coverlet with every twist and turn of his aroused body. Colin watched, mesmerized by the sight, and his own body grew warm with tingles all up and down his arms and legs. He curled his fingers around the wood under his hand, digging in, and a slam of raw emotion and need whooshed through his body like an explosion. At the same time, the phantom Marek turned his head and looked right into Colin's eyes. Colin flew backward, stumbling away from the intensity in that stare. He fell into the balcony railing, jamming his hip and kidneys. Ice-pick-sharp pain pierced Colin's bone, taking him to his knees. Fucking beat-down. Ignoring the old injury, Colin scrambled across the floor back to the doorway, but the picture of Marek masturbating was gone. Heaving on the ground, Colin had hardly any power left in his body. His heart and limbs felt sapped of strength, and his hands shook too. Glaring at nothing in particular, he groaned as he shifted off his hands and knees. “That might have been a bit more intense a sign than I needed, thank you very much.” He settled his spine against the doorjamb of Marek's bedroom, resting his arms on his raised knees while he waited for his legs to come back to him enough to move. Should he confess his dreams to Marek or keep them a secret? Colin didn't know what in the hell he was supposed to do next.

***** From the cover of trees, Marek watched Colin untie his speedboat from the dock and climb inside. The ocean breeze lifted the man's brown hair, and it would soon dry the perspiration-dampened edges. Stopping in front of the wheel without turning over the motor, Colin looked at Marek's house, watching for a prolonged moment, and then slid his gaze along the tree lines on either side of the pathway, studying them as well. Marek couldn't see Colin's eyes clearly from his vantage point, but he didn't have to. He remembered Colin Baxter always had an assessing way about him, one that used to leave Marek vastly uncomfortable. Fascinated him. Scared him too. Colin hadn't been like the beer-swilling, drug-using guys Marek remembered from the neighborhood, and he had a way of listening that went deeper than hearing just the words people said.

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Twelve years ago, one afternoon stroll with Colin had changed Marek's life. Colin's too, only Colin didn't know it. No. No. Marek closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead, fighting the familiar onslaught of pictures of Payton and his brutalized body. Oh, babe, I wish I could talk to you again. Soon, the images of Marek's lover morphed and became that of a teenage Colin, beaten, sliced open, and left clinging to life behind the restaurant where he worked. Christ, if Colin's boss hadn't come looking for him when he did… Marek shuddered, already knowing the result. The whir of the speedboat's engine drew Marek out of himself and put his attention back on Colin as he drove away from the dock. Testosterone, and two and a half years of celibacy, fueled Marek's immediate response to Colin's presence, temporarily overriding his suspicion of the man's sudden appearance in Fiji. Colin had grown and filled out in all the right places since the last time Marek saw him. Always cute and thoughtful, Colin now possessed a lean, strong body and an ingrained sexiness that Marek responded to on a visceral level. I want him. Paranoia crept into Marek's gut almost as quickly as he acknowledged the attraction, killing the erection pushing at his pants. What in God's name was Colin doing here, searching for Marek's home? Guilt over his many stupid fears and mistakes reared its ugly head, answering Marek's question with brutal honesty. Payback was a bitch. Two men had now paid the price for Marek's macho pride and desperate shame. The first had scars, physically for sure, and probably emotionally. That man— Colin—now happened to know where Marek lived. The other was back in Pittsburgh, buried six feet in the ground. It was time for Marek to pay for his sins.

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Chapter Four Colin shot up in bed and ran his hands all around and under the lightweight sheet covering him to the waist, panicking as he searched…for what, he didn't have any idea. His heart raced, sweat covered his body, and his mind spun with sheer, unnamed fear. He jumped out of bed and switched on the lamp, bathing the small, tropically decorated room in soft light. He rifled through his bag and shuffled through the clothes hanging in the tiny closet, touching everything he passed, hoping something would trigger an answer and bring about calm. Right then, the first glimpse of sunrise crested against the window and broke through the glass, filling Colin with an awesome sense of beauty and complete loss. He moved to the window and braced his hand on the wall. Pure white light from the rising sun flickered in between the palms and leafy foliage of the surrounding landscape, blinding in its brightness. Colin stayed where he was and watched until day finally beat out the night, marveling that some people got to live in this paradise every single day. People like Marek. Colin suddenly slumped against the wall as clarity hit him. “Oh my God. That's what I lost.” Marek. I didn't dream about him last night. The house either. “Oh shit.” Renewed worry filled Colin to the brim, making his stomach turn. He ripped open his suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes, praying all the while he wasn't too late.

*****

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Colin sped up the sandy path, leaped up the front steps, and threw open the front door without bothering to knock, not surprised to find it unlocked. “Marek! Marek!” Colin raced through the house at the speed of light, checking the front rooms, kitchen, and bedroom, and did not find Marek anywhere. A breezy chill wafted through the windows the man apparently never closed, raising goose bumps on Colin's arms and legs and clenching his belly with a deeper cold. Running through the house to the kitchen and out the back door, Colin shouted at the top of his lungs. “Marek! Where are you?” Marek's tarp-covered boat still bobbed in the calm water out front, so Colin knew he hadn't left the island. Just as Colin opened his mouth to yell again, Marek emerged from the back side of the greenhouse and stormed toward him. “What in the hell is the matter with you?” His voice snapped with irritation. “You're gonna fucking wake up my neighbors.” Oh, thank God he's okay. Swamped with relief, Colin launched himself at Marek and threw his arms around the man's neck, nearly sobbing when Marek's solid, steady heartbeat pounded against his chest. Marek stood stock-still, but he emanated body heat unlike anything Colin had ever experienced. Colin couldn't stop himself from clutching Marek tighter and absorbing further proof that he was still alive. “You weren't there,” Colin mumbled against Marek's temple. “When I realized what it was, it scared me to death. But you're here.” He nuzzled his cheek over Marek's beard and ran his hands down the other man's back, feeling more of that wonderful heat. “You're okay.” “I'm fine.” Huskiness laced Marek's voice. He turned his head down, away from Colin's touch, and uttered a soft curse. Pushing his hands in between them, Marek circled Colin's elbows and gently pushed him away. “You can let go of me now.” Mortified to his core—fuck, I threw myself at him—Colin backed up a dozen steps and gave Marek plenty of space. “Shit; I'm sorry.” Scratching his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, Colin scrambled for recovery. “I didn't know you had neighbors.” From the first moment Colin recognized Marek's house as the one in his dreams, his desire for answers had so consumed him that he never even noticed any other residences along the island's sandy shoreline. “I apologize for yelling.” “There are a few other homes here, Baxter. I don't own the whole damn island myself.” “I didn't know.” Marek spit out another expletive, but this time he did not turn away. “Forget about it. They're not close enough to worry about. Probably isn't even anybody living in them right now.” Planting his bare feet into the soft grass, Marek crossed his arms against his chest. “What the hell are you doing here again? What do you want with me?” He leaned in a little bit, and his mouth compressed to a thin line. It seemed he tried to soften his voice as he said, “Why were you so scared just now?” “I was—” Colin sealed his lips shut. Fuck. Here he stood in front of a man who, in Colin's mind anyway, had fucked him hundreds of times. Colin's gut trusted this

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person, and it pushed him to spill everything and hope for the best. His logical brain, however, which always ran the show in Colin's real life, reared itself and waved a huge sign of caution in front of his face, pulling him to a more familiar, stabilizing place of inner control. Marek's hands curled and flexed at his sides, and he abruptly pushed past Colin, heading around the side of the house. “Or don't tell me.” Colin barely heard the man's utterance as he walked away. “Suit yourself.” Colin chased after Marek and caught up to him walking toward the beach. When he got within touching distance, he grabbed Marek's wrist and spun him around. “Yesterday you didn't want to know anything about my presence, and today you're acting offended that I didn't jump to answer your questions. Why do you all of a sudden care?” Marek looked down at where Colin held his arm and then looked right into his eyes. Shit. Colin whipped his hand away, feeling a burn sear his palm. “Sorry.” He apologized, again. “I don't usually…handle people the way I have with you today.” Going back to that military stance, Marek's face did not alter in reaction to Colin's comment. “You wanted to say something yesterday, and today I'm asking you what it was. Tell me.” His gaze shifted to Colin's boat for a second. “Or leave.” Now or never, Colin. How much do you really believe this man is supposed to be your future? “You're going to think I'm crazy.” Colin squinted against the sun hanging high in the cloudless blue sky, but shaded his eyes with his hand rather than concealing himself behind sunglasses. “But I've been dreaming about your house. I've also been dreaming about a man.” His heart beat at a dizzying rate, but with sheer will, Colin did not break from the hold of Marek's stare. “That man is you.” Jesus Christ. No fucking way was this guy for real. Marek could not deal with unbalanced people right now. He barely held his own sanity in check every day. “You're right. I do think you're nuts.” So much for memories of the even-keeled teen Marek recalled from Henderson. Maybe the beating changed him. Marek shut his eyes and clamped his jaw against the hammering of unspoken guilt. “Don't come back.” Dismissing Colin with a scratchy voice, Marek strode back up the beach. “Wait a goddamned minute!” Colin's voiced cracked across the humid air, whipping Marek to a stop. Stiffening from top to bottom, Marek held in place, instinctively responding to the sharpness in Colin's tone, but he could not turn around. “Sorry.” Colin slid in front of Marek again, delivering a sucker punch with his masculine beauty. “It was either shout or grab you again.” A tight smile pulled at the man's wide lips. “You didn't seem to respond well to the second option before.”

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Marek started walking again, and Colin skipped backward at a slightly higher speed, trying to keep up. “I know I sound crazy, but I swear to you I am not. I feel a connection to your home that I cannot yet explain. Somehow, that also involves you. I'm not unbalanced. You can ask anyone who knows me; I'm the most sane, levelheaded person they know.” Studying Colin, Marek tried to look past the immediate sexual attraction and search for subterfuge. There's no way he's here without a motive. Marek just didn't know what it was yet. “If you're not crazy,” he said, choosing his words very deliberately, “then you're operating some kind of angle on me. Either way, you won't like me when I find you out.” “I don't know if I like you right now.” Colin's green eyes sparked with passion and lit a fuse in Marek's blood. Marek chuckled in spite of himself. “All right. That smackdown buys you a few minutes. Start talking.” “Okay, so maybe the easiest answer to the questions you asked is why I was so frantically looking for you just now,” Colin said. “And the answer is this: last night, for the first time in two years, I didn't dream about this house, or you. I thought that meant something had happened—that you'd done something to yourself—and I didn't have the dream because you were gone.” Two years? Exactly when Marek had purchased the monstrosity. No fucking way. The timeline had to be a coincidence. Colin's earlier fear suddenly pulled Marek up straight, and he grabbed the front of his shirt. “Wait a minute. Why would you think I'd done something to myself?” Almost at eye level, Marek couldn't escape the hint of pity that softened Colin's eyes. “In the dreams, particularly the first ones, you're clearly suffering.” Colin searched Marek's face thoroughly, and Marek released his hand from the man's shirt, feeling stripped and flayed bare with one brief, intense stare. “I don't know why,” Colin went on, “but your voice is in my head asking for help.” Son of a bitch. This could not be happening. Payton… A familiar weight pressed on Marek's chest at the loss. Could… No, this is all too crazy and has to be a coincidence. Schooling his features, Marek said, “I don't need any help, so you can go on home with a clear conscience.” “I can't do that,” Colin replied. “Even if I wanted to. I have a wedding to attend in a few days. That's what I'm doing in Fiji. I'm here for another week.” The beginnings of a powerful headache started drumming in Marek's skull. He ordered his legs to walk away, but a twisted piece of his psyche kept his feet planted in the sand. He hadn't cared about anything enough to even develop curiosity in two and a half years. This man doled out nuggets of information—probably working Marek as some kind of con or even trying to trap him into a confession—yet like a tiny-brained squirrel, Marek picked up every bit of nut left on the trail and followed. Where are you leading me, Colin Baxter?

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“So you just found my house? By accident?” Marek didn't bother to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Just like that?” He snapped his fingers. Colin nodded. “I know; it sounds like more insanity. It's too much of a coincidence, though. Something guided me to this place.” Marek noticed Colin's Adam's apple roll visibly as he swallowed. Red cut across the man's cheeks, but he didn't break eye contact. “Marek, I think you did.” Adrenaline and denial mixed forces and froze Marek's blood. “No way.” “How can you be so sure?” “Because I've never had a single fucking dream about you.” Marek went right for the gut-cutting truth. “Oh.” Colin slumped, looking like a respected scientist had just told him the earth was not round. He ran his hands through his hair, mussing the thick brown locks. “I've miscalculated something important then, and I'm going to have to think about it some more.” Red burned Colin's entire face, but puzzlement quickly took it over, reminding Marek of the kid he used to watch in high school. “I felt certain you must have had them too.” Biting down a need to apologize or explain, Marek implemented a familiar facade of indifference. “I think you should get back to your friends. Good-bye.” He gave Colin his back and walked away. He took two steps before Colin called out, “I guess you're not gay then, either.” Marek closed his eyes against the rush of pain, but he kept moving on instinct, pretending he hadn't heard. “One more thing,” Colin said, his voice strong once again. “Why did you remove the red door?” Already up one porch step, Marek thanked God his hand on the railing supported the falter in his legs. How in the fuck could this man know about the red door I had torn down? “Well?” Growling, Marek uttered, “None of your fucking business.” As that slip of control occurred, Marek could practically feel the grin of triumph on Colin's face. He refused to turn around and see if he was right. Colin added, “I'm going to come back.” Marek waved without turning around. “I figured you would.” Leaning against the door, safely inside his house, suspicion lingered in Marek's thoughts as he listened to Colin speed away. For the first time since Payton's death, though, Marek looked forward to breathing.

*****

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On Fiji's main island, Colin stepped up to the woman behind the counter at the library. “Hi.” He smiled. “First, do you speak English?” The librarian smiled in greeting and dipped her head. “Of course.” “Excellent.” Oh, I know it's wrong, but I can't wait to see Marek's face when we chat next. “Sir?” “Sorry.” Colin put his full attention on the woman who may hold some of the answers to his dreams. “I'm wondering if you can assist me, or direct me, in going about researching a particular house on one of the smaller islands in the chain off the east coast of Vanua Levu.”

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Chapter Five Colin stepped out onto the bungalow deck the next morning to the cheering of everyone sitting at the outdoor table finishing breakfast. “Hey, hey, there he is,” Sylvia said, raising her glass of orange juice in his direction. “I thought we had one more roommate in the house, but I hadn't seen him in so long I was beginning to wonder if we'd left him behind in Austin.” Smiling sheepishly, Colin pulled out the one empty chair at the table and sat down between Jordan and Tom. “Sorry, guys. I got caught up in something yesterday and lost track of time.” After spending a few hours at the library and getting the start of some good information about the history of Marek's home, Colin had tracked down the realtor who handled the sale of the house to try to get a better picture, or just some insight, into what, aside from Marek, might have drawn him there. Talking to the realtor had taken up a good chunk of time, and Colin wasn't quite comfortable driving the speedboat at night to make another trip out to Marek's island, so he hadn't returned yesterday. He had wanted some quiet to think and figure out how in the hell to make the man a believer before seeing Marek again. Did he tell Marek everything right away, including the deep-seated emotional connection he felt to the man in his dreams? Or did he keep the conversation geared more toward the house and try to explain the driving need for answers about the bond he experienced to the structure itself? Colin wouldn't know for sure until he saw Marek again and spent some real time with him. Anticipation fluttered nerves in his stomach, and excitement got his heart racing. I can't wait any longer. Getting right back up from his seat, Colin grabbed a small bottle of orange juice and a couple pieces of fruit. Urgency put his feet in motion in the direction of the dock,

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but a sea of expectant faces stared up at him, stalling him before taking three steps. “Look.” Shutting up as quickly as he had opened his mouth, Colin's mind sped with a truth he knew the group wouldn't understand. Fuck, I don't know what is going on myself, how can I expect them to? These people were his best friends, but only Jordan—and so probably Tag too—knew about his dreams. Swallowing past the niggle of guilt, he said, “I feel like a jackass deserting you all again, but I really have to get back to what I was doing yesterday. I can't talk about it right now. I just have to do it.” “Is he cute?” Sylvia asked. Colin furrowed his brow at the smirk gracing Sylvia's mahogany face. “What?” “The 'something'“—Sylvia put her fingers up in quotes—“you're doing. Is he cute? And don't tell me it's not a man. You have your shoulders pushed back and some sort of secret something special showing on your face. Unless you've switched teams, it's a man.” That obvious already? Shit. That meant Marek could certainly sense the attraction in Colin too. Sylvia tapped her long fingernails against the table. “We're waiting.” “All right, fine,” Colin conceded. “Yes, it has to do with a man. But not necessarily what you're thinking.” Definitely not what they were imagining. Yet. Maybe one day though. Colin was now 99 percent certain Marek was gay. He would give just about anything to sink into a deep kiss with the man and confirm it. His very being ached to be close to Marek again, to touch him, to be near him physically, and see what would happen. “Oh yeah,” Alison said, slapping the table and pulling Colin back to the group. “It's a man all right. Look at our Colin. He's all hot and bothered.” “Whatever I am, don't a single one of you”—Colin set his focus on Sylvia, Alison, and Jordan one at a time, drilling them with the evil eye—“dare turn me into an investigation. This is personal, and I have to figure it out myself.” Jordan jabbed him in the shoulder. “I don't have to like it, and you can ditch my little excursions all you want.” She glared up at him. “But if you don't show up at my wedding, I'm gonna kick your ass.” “I wouldn't miss you tying the knot for anything.” Colin leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jordan's halo of red hair. “And don't worry, I'll even be here for the rehearsal and dinner tonight.” Squinting, Jordan scrutinized Colin for an uncomfortably long beat. “I'll leave you to your”—she waved her hand around in the air—“whatever, without bothering you. For now.” Exchanging a look with Tag, Colin got a little nod of backup. Giving the man a small smile of thanks, Colin added to the group, “I'll see you all tonight. Bye.” Colin left to a chorus of smooching sounds serenading him. He had to laugh. He did have good friends.

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***** On his hands and knees, Marek dug in the moist, nutrient-enriched earth, barely mindful of separating the vegetables from weeds as he tugged carrots from a large wood planter. His movements were jerky and clumsy as he crawled across one aisle of the greenhouse and started planting seedlings for some new lettuce and then jumped up to check on his hanging planters of tomatoes without finishing either of the previous two projects. Marek pulled a few ripe red tomatoes from the vine and slipped them into a canvas bag with a handful of other items to wash later and eat for lunch. He suddenly stopped and looked around, spotting a dozen small messes where he'd begun working on something only to get antsy and feel a compulsion to move on to the next. Sleep had eluded him last night, but that wasn't so unusual for Marek. He often made do with a few hours here and there. Letting this sanctuary look like a tornado had swept through it, however, was an aberration. A tribute to his lover who had been a vegetarian, this greenhouse never looked less than perfect. Until this morning. Christ, Pay, I usually find such peace with you in here, and now I've turned everything into a disaster area. Marek sat down on a wide bench and leaned his back into the heat of the glass behind him. I even brought another man in here with me for the first time since you went away. Fuck. Why do I even care that Colin didn't come back yesterday? Because he's an unpredictable, unsolved problem, Marek reasoned. He didn't know what Colin Baxter hoped to gain by making his outrageous claims, but he for damn sure wouldn't get a dime out of Marek for his troubles. Or maybe he will. Christ knows I owe it to him. Or maybe Colin didn't want anything from Marek. Colin might just be telling the truth. About everything. But if that was the case, then why didn't he come back like he said he would? It all felt too much like mind games, and Marek didn't know if his was in any kind of shape right now to spar with someone out to swindle him. Or hurt him. Both could break him, in different ways. Marek scrubbed his face, scratching through the stubble of his week-old beard. He looked around the greenhouse, searching for answers that simply didn't exist. Confusion ate at him, mingling with an ever-present state of exhaustion, dragging him down. Even though he could still hear Pay's reasonable, loving voice in his head, speaking to him clear as day, he wished he could talk to him face-to-face. Marek already knew Payton would tell him to trust his gut, to have faith in his instincts. He would also tell Marek to let himself go and believe someone would always be there to catch him. Of course, that used to translate to Payton meaning that he would be there, if only Marek could release his fears and openly leap into the safety of his lover's embrace. Jesus, Marek didn't want anything more than the security of those arms right now. “Hello?” The voice came out of nowhere, making Marek shiver.

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Marek slid his eyes closed, almost unable to bear the band tightening his chest. For a split second, he thought Payton rose and spoke to him from the dead. Worse, though, when the voice called out a greeting again and Marek realized it was Colin—returning as he promised—an even greater anticipation whooshed through Marek, making him feel truly alive. And terrified. I can't go through falling for someone and losing him again. Marek somehow already knew it would be easy as hell to get caught up in Colin Baxter, whether aware of the man's true motives or not. A knock sounded against the open door, and a second later, Colin peeked inside. Goddamnit. Colin wasn't wearing anything special, just cargo shorts and a white Tshirt, but he looked fucking sexy enough to devour. His hair was cutely mussed, undoubtedly from the boat ride to Marek's place. The shirt he wore pulled at his shoulders and chest, outlining his lean, hard muscles; he already had his shoes off, as if he owned the place and planned to stay for awhile. Shit, he looked good enough to fuck. Marek stifled a groan as he envisioned himself bending Colin over this bench and smothering his cock in the tight confines of the man's perfect ass. No. Anger at his own lack of control killed the wood trying to grow in Marek's khakis. Not in here. Not where I come to talk to Pay. Colin moved into the greenhouse, wearing an easy smile that proved tougher to ignore than his incredible body. “You'll notice I didn't panic this time when I didn't find you up at the house.” That lethal smile grew even bigger. “See? I'm a fast learner.” “Uh-huh.” Marek grabbed his bag of vegetables and pushed past Colin with an “Excuse me,” unable to be in this place with Colin and his own memories of Payton. Catching up, Colin quickly fell in line beside Marek. “I apologize for not coming back yesterday afternoon. I wanted to, but it got dark before I finished my errands, and I'm not used to driving a boat at night.” Colin beat Marek up the steps to the kitchen door and held it open wide for him to pass through. “Especially in a place where I'm not familiar with the waters.” “Uh-huh.” Please stop sounding so sincere. I don't know how to handle you if you're not working me for money. Marek moved to the sink and turned on the water, letting it run as he dumped the veggies into a colander already sitting in the deep copper basin. “It's a beautiful day,” Colin said. He leaned against the counter near the sink, much too close for Marek's comfort. “I thought I might go for a swim. I can't believe it's my fourth day in Fiji, and I still haven't tested the waters.” Rinsing a handful of baby cucumbers one by one, Marek kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. “I thought if you joined me, we could talk and you might tell me a little bit about Fiji and how you came to live in this house.” Colin tapped his foot against Marek's ankle. “In between having some fun, of course.” He chuckled. “A person ought to be

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able to say they had a good time when they tell people about vacationing in a paradise like this.” Colin's energy and seeming sweetness filled the air, generating life all around Marek and infusing the atmosphere with a zest he had not felt since before stepping foot on this island. Colin offered a temporary seduction, innocently or not, and lulled Marek with teases of bright colors in his everyday world of gray. Powerful needs still living inside Marek pushed at him to sink into this man standing next to him, but he couldn't give up his suspicions enough to do it. “I don't know if you just lucked out,” Colin went on, “or you chose this place deliberately, but in my opinion, you have the prettiest stretch of ocean and beach I've seen around here. You have stunning turquoise water that meets a clean line of white sand. Then you turn around and what do you get? The most luscious tropical backdrop of palms and green-covered mountain around.” Colin laughed again and nudged his shoulder against Marek's, scraping at Marek's buried need for physical contact. “Of course, maybe I'm just prejudiced about the place since I've seen it so often in my dreams.” Shut up. Shut up. Please stop talking. Right now. Marek jabbed the heel of his hand into the faucet handle and kicked the water pressure up higher in an effort to drown out Colin's voice. Colin eased a hair away, giving Marek some breathing room. Clearing his throat, Colin said softly, “So, was it the house or the island that grabbed your attention first?” Clamping his jaw, Marek shut off the water and lifted the colander full of vegetables out of the sink. He shook off the excess moisture and moved across the kitchen to the center island, giving Colin his back. For a prolonged heartbeat, a thick silence permeated the air. Then Colin said, “Okay, Donovan, so that's how you're going to play this, huh? Give me the silent treatment?” Off the reflection of the glass-front cabinets in front of him, Marek saw Colin step in behind him. Dangerously close. Jesus, I can feel his heat. “That's fine. You don't have to interact with me or answer my questions. I can just keep talking and filling in both sides of the conversation. I warn you, though; I might run out of things to say after a while and resort to singing to fill in the nervous silences. Contrary to popular stereotypes, it won't be with show tunes or Britney either. We're talking eighties and nineties hair metal bands, power ballads mostly. I can't carry a tune to save my life, but I know a lot of Bon Jovi—” Unable to take this seductive, torturous play anymore, Marek growled and spun around. He grabbed Colin by the shirt and shoved him into the refrigerator. “Jesus Christ, man. Shut up.” Marek uncurled his fist and held Colin pinned with an open palm very near to his throat. “Don't you get what it means when a person doesn't respond to a single fucking thing you say?”

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Colin glanced down at Marek's hold on him and swallowed. “Yeah, I do,” he said, his voice hitching just a bit. “But I'm trying like hell not to let it hurt.” He didn't turn away from the eye contact, which made Marek feel even more like a cowardly bastard. His chest lifted and fell in choppy swells under Marek's hand, but Colin pressed on. “I don't like picturing myself as a yippy little dog biting at your ankles, trying to get your attention, but I've also never had such a powerful need for answers. I know you say you haven't experienced these dreams, so you can't understand, but there's something pressing on me that is forcing me to this house and to you.” Colin lifted his hands and smoothed his shirt. Their fingers brushed against one another, and the small contact jolted right through Marek, weakening his knees. “I sometimes lay in the dark thinking if I don't figure out the answers, if I can't uncover why I started having these dreams and why I suggested my best friend get married in Fiji—the place where the house and man in my head ends up being—that I truly will go insane.” Marek ripped his hand off Colin and backed away, jamming his tailbone into the kitchen island. “I can't help you. I'm sorry, but I can't.” Obvious frustration filled Colin, but he held his ground, still too close, even with five feet now separating them. “Give me one day, Marek.” “Why?” Marek made the word sound like a curse. Colin moved in again, eliminating more than half the space between them. He stood up straight and looked Marek in the eyes; renewed confidence made the green shine bright. “I dare you to give me a chance to prove myself. Spend the day with me. Just you and me, here on this island. Talking and hanging. Simple as that. If at the end of the day, you still don't want to see my face or hear my voice again… Well, I'll be honest and admit I can't say I'll disappear forever, but I'll find a way to get my answers with minimal interaction with you.” Colin closed the rest of the distance between them, mere inches away from riding his body right up against Marek's. Leaning in, he planted his hands on the counter on either side of Marek's waist. “Do you have the balls to take up my challenge?” Marek snorted, but his arms shook with restraint. Damn it. He was two breaths away from being hard enough to fuck Colin right here on his kitchen floor. “Are you calling me out as a pussy if I say no?” “Just wondering exactly what you have under those khakis of yours, Donovan.” Colin pushed away from the counter and walked backward to the door. “I'll be outside enjoying the beautiful day, seeing how the water feels. You'll give me your answer.” He walked outside and called out, “One way or another.” A second later, his T-shirt flew through the open door and landed in a white puddle on Marek's tile floor. Once he was sure he was alone, Marek ran his hands through his hair and let out a shaky breath. “Christ.” He stared at the vacated door. “What a cock-tease.” No way is he blackmailing me into joining him on the beach. Still, Marek walked across the kitchen and picked up Colin's T-shirt, his desire for self-preservation not strong enough to ignore the deliberate flirtation. He put it to his

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nose, inhaling the warmth still clinging to the fabric. It said “Colin” even though Marek could not possibly identify scents or natural musks as belonging to this man yet. Fuck, though, he smells sexy. “Shit.” Marek shook his head. “Maybe he does know me.” Marek went in search of his swim trunks.

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Chapter Six Marek spotted Colin stretched out across the dock, and he raced through the sunheated sand in the direction of his prey. “I thought you said you were going swimming, Baxter? Sunning yourself isn't exactly—” Colin rolled over and stood right then, robbing Marek of his voice. His towel slipped out of his hand, the blue-stripe pattern drifting to the edge of the dock. Oh Christ. I helped do that to him. A long scar started somewhere under the waistband of Colin's trunks and veered in an upward arc over his lower stomach to around his side where Marek imagined it continued on his back. “What?” Colin looked at Marek, only to follow his gaze down to where Marek stared. “Oh, you like that?” He scratched at the narrow line where it cut across his abdomen. “It's a little souvenir from a few guys back in Henderson. I was work—” Marek lifted his hand. He couldn't stand still and listen to the details of Colin's attack. “I remember the story.” Three people in Halloween masks jumping a sixteenyear-old boy in the alley behind where he worked. “I read the newspaper after you were hurt. I know there was a knife involved.” “Right.” Heat flamed across Colin's cheeks. He dropped his gaze and moved back a few steps but then stopped himself and stiffened his chin. “Don't look so damned horrified by it, for God's sake. It's a scar; it's not contagious.” “Fucking hell, Colin. I didn't think it was, and you damn well know it. I just… It just…” Goddamn. Shit. Fuck. Marek paced to the edge of the dock, needing a minute to breathe and regroup. The idea that he would find anything repulsive about Colin, even with his uncertainty at the man's reasons for being here, was laughable. Guilt attacked him the second he saw the scar, yet Marek still wanted to drop to his knees and lick Colin's stomach. Jesus, the man had an incredible body.

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A body you had a part in someone else damaging, Donovan, so stop thinking about it sexually. Bracing himself, Marek turned and found Colin standing some ten feet away. “Obviously I know you were badly beaten and cut, but I didn't know it left such a permanent physical mark. It shocked me to see it for a minute; that's all. It doesn't gross me out or anything.” “Okay.” Colin moved toward Marek with a slow, purposeful pace, putting Marek in mind of a sleek predator stalking game. “So long as I don't have to deal with you thinking I'm a freak”—he circled close to Marek, invading his space once again—“then we're cool.” Colin's proximity affected Marek's breathing, making it a tangible, audible thing. “I can't promise that.” Marek couldn't look away from Colin's eyes, and he followed with every shift Colin made around him. Feeling sucked under the other man's spell, Marek's voice was husky, lending a seductive tone he could not control. “You do insist you're having dreams about me and my house.” He forced lightness and a wolfish smile to his face, needing the levity. “That's pretty damned freakish to me.” Colin's face blanched for a split second and then he shoved Marek in the shoulder, making Marek stumble backward. “You son of a bitch jerk, calling me a freak.” His stare narrowed to slits of green. “You'll pay for that.” He rammed Marek in the stomach with his shoulder, stealing Marek's breath. “Hit the water, Donovan!” Colin pushed with every ounce of his strength; Marek could feel the guy's muscles straining. “Now!” Marek grunted and fought back, tangling with Colin like a wrestler. He jammed his arms under Colin's and tried to flip the man over his shoulder, but Colin held with surprising power and forced Marek to the edge of the dock, nudging the heels of his bare feet nearly over the side. Adrenaline and endorphins rushed through Marek in a flood, forcing a burst of laughter out of him as he struggled, and in the process he gave up a bit more of the dock. His toes dug into the wood, but gravity pulled at the angle his body hung at, weakening his already shaky hold. Colin wrapped his arms around Marek's waist and tried to force Marek to turn with his body. “Damn it. Give it up”—Marek's shoulder muffled Colin's voice—“or I'll fucking kiss you to get you in.” His body jerking in response, Marek grabbed at Colin's hair and yanked his head back, locking onto his open gaze. A flash of instant fire ignited. They both tumbled off the dock and then hit the water together with a stinging crash. The impact of his back slamming against the water knocked the wind right out of Marek's lungs, stunning him for a moment. Before he could catch his breath, a giant splash came right at his face, dousing him with salty spray. Another came right on top of that, pushing Marek toward the shore with the force behind Colin's playful attack. Colin gave a masculine cry of victory and skimmed his hands across the water, rushing repeated arcs of the stuff at Marek with his cupped hands.

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A burst of energy put Marek into motion. “You'll regret that, rookie!” He found his footing in the shallower part of the bank and swung both his arms through the water, rushing a wall of ocean right back at Colin's face. He did it repeatedly, creating huge swells and man-made waves that completely engulfed Colin in the rush. “All right, I give!” Colin coughed and sputtered, waving his hands. “Uncle. Uncle.” Another wave bobbed him up and down in its current. “Uncle.” Marek shouted in triumph and pumped his fists, but swam out to Colin and grabbed his arm so he didn't float any farther out into the ocean. He smirked though; he couldn't help it. “That'll teach you to challenge the one who lives with the ocean as his front yard every single day.” He towed Colin to a point where his feet would touch the ocean floor and he could walk the rest of the way on his own. Rather than moving up the beach, Colin dropped to sit down right near the shoreline and let his legs rest in the shallow water. “You do have a very nice liquid lawn, Marek; I will agree with that.” Colin looked across the sparkling water and up at the clear blue sky, squinting his eyes. “Damn, it sure is pretty.” Marek took a good look around and almost felt like he gazed upon this landscape for the very first time. Its beauty staggered him, and he knew Payton would have loved every inch of it. Grief enveloped Marek, and he knew that somewhere, Payton was sad too. He's upset you've wasted two years hiding smack in the middle of paradise, never once opening your eyes and appreciating it, even if you could only do it for him. Colin suddenly shot to his feet and spun around, turning in a slow circle. “Oh fuck.” He grasped his chest. Leaping up too, Marek grabbed Colin's arm. “What?” Panic gripped his stomach. “What's the matter?” Colin glanced at Marek's house then down at the sand, and his face scrunched, as if he couldn't identify where he stood. “I felt it,” he whispered. “I felt it just now.” Fear sliced through Marek, shocking him in its intensity. “Felt what?” he asked, although he was almost afraid to know. “Are you hurt?” “No. The pull.” Rubbing his open hand over his chest, Colin shook his head. “I felt the pull.” “I don't understand.” “The gut sensation, the invisible string”—Colin made his hands into fists and held them against his stomach—“the feeling that went through me the night I saw the red door and swam to your house in my first dream.” He looked into Marek's eyes, without a hint of hiding. “I felt the power that took me over and brought me in contact with you. The one that kept bringing me back every night.” “What?” Marek shook his head. No fucking way. “No. That's not possible.” Colin grabbed Marek by the forearms with a digging, tight hold. “Do you swear you've never had any kind of dream about me in the past two years?”

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“I haven't. I promise.” Disturbed, Marek untangled himself from Colin's hands and buried his fingers into his overlong hair. The earnestness in Colin's eyes held Marek in its hold, though, compelling him to respond. “Shit. I don't even fall asleep for long enough to have dreams most nights, if you want the truth.” “Okay, then maybe it really is about your house.” Colin shuffled through the sand and stood at the foot of the path, his arms crossed against his chest. He looked up at Marek's home, studying it like a specimen…or a person. “Maybe it's haunted. Are you aware of its history?” “I've never seen any ghosts or heard any noises I can't explain. Other than that, I don't know anything about it except that I moved into it two years ago.” Colin nodded. “Right when I started having the dreams.” Shifting, he put his attention on Marek. “See? That's the part that keeps making me think you must have something to do with them.” Colin smiled like a guilty kid caught doing something forbidden. “That and all the sex with the man who owns it, of course.” Noting every hard, sinewy line that made up Colin's body, Marek nearly groaned just thinking about the man's dreams. “I think I'd remember having sex with you.” The tips of Colin's ears burned with red, and he turned away, back to the house. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I think. Anyway, I did some research yesterday—” Marek swung Colin to face him as a very different kind of fire burned a line straight through him. “You investigated me?” A band squeezed at his chest, reigniting suspicion. Maybe he really is here for money. “You had no goddamned right.” Colin reared and grabbed his stomach, making Marek feel as if he had kicked the man. “I didn't do a background check on you, Marek; I investigated the history of this house. I would never violate your privacy by researching you. Although, just so you don't think I'm deliberately misleading you—because you seem hell-bent on not trusting me—I am a partner in a private investigation firm. If I wanted to find out about you, it wouldn't be that hard to do it.” Righteous indignation fueled his gaze. “I won't though. It's not my style.” “Why should I trust you?” Defensiveness laced Marek's voice. “I haven't had any contact with you since I was a teenager, and it's not like we were tight back then anyway. I don't know you anymore.” Stepping in, Colin opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He pursed his lips, swore under his breath, and eventually looked at Marek with a softer gaze. “You're right; you don't. I apologize. I get that you have reason to be suspicious of my sudden appearance and strange claims.” Colin linked his hands behind his neck and started to pace, pausing to glance at Marek each time he passed in front of him. “I know this is weird for you. It's weird for me too. I feel like I know you, and so I talk to you and treat you in a manner that probably feels too familiar for your comfort. All I can say is that I'm not doing it to keep you off balance.” He finally stopped and offered a small smile. “I do it because I feel safe and comfortable with you, whether it's actually smart of me or not.”

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“Do we talk in your dreams?” Marek asked, curiosity winning out over his hundred misgivings. “Like have sit-down, all-out conversations, to where you think you know personal stuff about me?” “Not exactly. Look, can we go relax on the beach and have this conversation in a way that feels less…I don't know…like we're adversaries?” Colin's gaze drifted to the water and held there with a stare Marek could only describe as longing. “I don't want to be that with you.” Watching Colin stirred something long gone rusty in Marek, something simple and pure, something that made him want to see another man smile. Colin smile. Because of Marek. “Sure,” Marek finally answered and prayed he wasn't helping this man lead him right into a trap. “Let's go sit down. I'd like to hear what you have to say.” “Great,” Colin said. His entire face lit up, sucker punching Marek with pure, gut attraction. Colin started walking toward the dock and their towels; Marek kept up the fast pace beside him. “I'm hoping you'll have some insight or even just a theory or two. I walk around with this awareness of you and this house living inside me every day, but I've only told one person—my best friend Jordan—and I didn't even tell her the depth of them. I'm not an idiot.” Colin kneeled down, grabbed his towel, and walked backward toward the beach, slowing his pace while Marek hustled a dozen more feet down the planks to grab his. “I know how crazy I sound,” he said, as soon as Marek caught back up, “and I knew people would tell me the same if they knew.” Sympathy tugged at Marek, even though he still wasn't sure he believed Colin. “Afraid they would lock you away?” Colin shook his head and looked down, busying himself with laying his towel flat in the sand. “Not so much that. I just didn't want anyone to convince me I wasn't really experiencing them the way I knew I was,” he murmured. “I was afraid if I did the dreams would stop. I didn't want them to stop.” Colin lifted his stare off the ground, and the vulnerability visible on his face, in his eyes, stole Marek's breath away. “I didn't want you, or this place, to go away.” Oh Jesus. Marek's limbs trembled, making him grateful to sit down. Maybe Colin is certifiable, but every word he's speaking is the truth. I can see it. I can feel it. Oh fuck. “Tell me.” Marek's voice held a rough whisper it its grip. “Tell me what I say. Tell me why you care.” “It's not what you say.” Colin sat down, facing Marek, and drew his knees up to his chest. “You don't talk much, but neither do I, really. Fact is, I never even saw your actual face in my dreams; it's more a sense of a being than categorizing eyes, hair, or body parts and trying to identify them. I knew it was you when I showed up here the other day because I felt you, for a lack of a better way to explain it. Any time he—you— were nearby, your emotions—sadness, despair—overwhelmed me, and all I wanted to do was take that away, even for a little while.”

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Colin sifted sand through his fingers, letting it flow in a thin line back to the beach, like an hourglass. “From the beginning”—his voice dropped some—“sex ignited you, and when we were together in that way, passion, desire, and lust seemed to drown out the other stuff, and then you seemed okay. I would wake up, and it would be morning. I'd go through my day and then when it was time to sleep again, the cycle started over, always in the same place of loss.” Brushing off his hands, he shrugged. “That's it, basically. I didn't know it was you, as in Marek Donovan, the guy I knew in Henderson, ever, until the other day, here, when you got close enough, and I saw your eyes and cheekbones. I remembered those features about you from when we were teenagers and recognized you right away. It totally threw me that you and the man in my dreams were the same person. I feel you even though I don't have any idea of your life since my family left Henderson.” Marek remembered Colin and his family had left town after Colin recovered from the beating. “I moved away too, not long after you did,” Marek shared. “I had an uncle in Pittsburgh who owned a scrap metal business. I started out working for him at the bottom of the chain. By the time he wanted to retire, I convinced him to let me take over the company and run it for him. I expanded, made him a lot more money, and when he died, he left it to me.” Then I lost Payton, and everything went to shit. Clearing his throat, Marek looked out to the ocean, staring at nothing. “I sold it a little over two years ago and moved here.” Colin reached out and rubbed Marek's leg. “I'm sorry for your loss.” He didn't know the half of it. “Thank you.” “Your uncle isn't why you're living on this island though.” Colin trapped Marek's gaze in the steady hold of his. There was no question in Colin's voice. Only certainly of his claim. Goose bumps popped up on Marek's legs, and a frisson of fear trickled down his back. “What do you mean?” “I mean that's not why you're grieving in my dreams. Your pain goes deeper than losing an uncle, Marek. You've lost a piece of your soul.” A flickering of knowledge passed over Colin's eyes, and then he said, “Tell me about Payton.” Rage shot Marek off the ground in a flash, and he had his hand around Colin's neck, hauling him to his feet in the next. “What the fuck kind of game are you playing, you lying piece of shit? Coming in here saying you don't know anything about my life.” He got right in Colin's face, and his voice dipped dangerously savage and low. “Who the hell told you about Payton? Tell me.” Marek's entire body shook, and he swore he could do serious damage. “Now.” Under the clamp of Marek's hand, Colin never blinked. “You did.” Marek let go and staggered backward. Covering his mouth, he crumpled to his knees.

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Chapter Seven Oh God, I feel like I stabbed him in the heart. Colin took a tentative step forward and dropped to his knees, reaching out to the other man. “Marek?” He touched his hand to Marek's forearm, and the temperature chilled his fingers. Shit. “Are you okay?” “No. Huh-uh.” Marek batted Colin's hand away and shook his head. “I never would have told you about Payton. Not even in your dreams.” His pure blue eyes looked as big and frightening as a vast, endless wide-open ocean. “You said we didn't talk like that.” The guy looked ravaged, and it tore Colin apart. “Damn my mouth. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way.” Colin curled his hands against his thighs so that he didn't touch. “On your greenhouse door; you have Payton's Place carved into the wood, and there's a heart next to it. I told you I did research on this house, so I know the name of the man who built it for his wife, and I know her name too. Neither was Payton, and they never had children. Only one other couple has owned the place, the people before you, who let it fall apart, and neither of their names was Payton either. That leaves Payton as someone important to you.” Marek nodded, and a yes formed on his lips with no voice behind it to give it sound. He looks so fucking alone he makes my heart hurt, worse than in any of my dreams. Colin knew it was because this was real. A real man in real pain with no speculation or uncertainty attached to repeated dreams anymore. Colin spread his knees to encase where Marek kneeled and, unable to help himself, cupped his cheek. Facial hair scratched at Colin's palm, but he brushed his thumb over smooth skin covering a sharp cheekbone. The man flinched, but didn't pull away.

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“You didn't want me in the greenhouse earlier.” Colin pressed, compelled. “I could tell. Payton is why. Isn't he?” Marek stared out at the ocean, unblinking, clearly a thousand miles away. He suddenly shook his head, his eyes cleared, and he scrambled back away from Colin, rushing to his feet. “No, huh-uh. You don't get Payton. I don't want to talk about him.” Marek walked backward to his house and took the stairs, all the while pointing at Colin's speedboat. “I want you to leave. Now.” He opened his front door. “Wait!” Colin jumped up and chased after Marek, bounding up the steps to the porch. “Please don't disappear. We don't have to talk about personal stuff; I shouldn't have pushed.” Colin's mind raced, searching for something to grab Marek's interest. I don't know him that well yet to pick a topic! Right then, a breeze caught the door, making it squeak and swing back, all the way open. Of course. “Let me stay and tell you what I found out about your house. If you still want me to go after that, I will.” Marek didn't say anything; he didn't even offer Colin a glance, but he did leave the door open as he turned and walked inside. Colin followed to the back of the house into the kitchen, watching as the man went to the fridge and pulled out the tomatoes and cucumbers he had washed earlier. After setting them on the center island, he opened a cabinet and pulled down two thick white plates, set them next to the vegetables, and then withdrew a large knife from a drawer. Looking up from his task, Marek used the knife and pointed to the rectangular table across the room. “Make yourself useful and set the table. Utensils are second drawer from the left. Glasses you can see through the cabinets, and drinks are in the fridge.” Marek put an unwavering stare on Colin that laid out a hard warning. “You can talk about the house while you're doing it.” Colin got the message loud and clear. The brief conversation about Payton had never happened. Glancing at Marek and finding him already slicing tomatoes, Colin grabbed forks and knives, as well as a few paper napkins off a pile on the counter. “The house was built a little over a hundred years ago by an Australian man who owned a number of sugarcane plantations in both Australia and Fiji. He found himself an American wife, who was apparently vacationing in Australia. I don't know how common that would have been in the early nineteen hundreds, but that's the story people tell.” Colin took another quick look at Marek as he palmed two bottles of beer from the fridge and held them up. At Marek's nod, Colin took them to the table and arranged everything in two place settings. “Anyway,” Colin went on, “she—her name was Beatrice and his was Stewart— came with him to Fiji once to visit his plantation and fell completely in love with the islands. The story is this was the house of a childhood fantasy of hers, and he built it for her from the ground up. His touch was the blue tiles, because he wanted some feeling of a design you might find near the water against the colonial facade. Stewart also

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fancied himself the start of a legacy and created his own coat of arms, which is what is in the stained glass window above the door.” “I figured that was what it was.” Marek went to the fridge and returned to the butcher block with a clear-wrapped white ball. “It made me think some British person with a title might have lived here.” Not quite so dead inside that his own curiosities weren't roused about his home. Colin took heart and sat down, sharing while he watched Marek put together two plates of food. “No royalty under your roof, I'm afraid. It was an upstart Australian and his Yankee wife. Word is they were very much in love and were very kind and generous with the local people. It was just them; they never had any kids. Stewart would leave every so often to tend to his business in Australia, and Beatrice would wait for him to return. Less than fifteen years into their marriage, Stewart went away on another trip, and he never returned. There is a record of his ship leaving Australia, but a storm popped up off the coast not long after, and the theory is he was lost at sea. Well, to the Pacific, to be technically correct.” “How horrible.” Marek slid a plate in front of Colin and sat down opposite him. “But probably not uncommon back then.” He pointed at Colin's plate of sliced tomatoes and diced cucumbers garnished with shreds of parsley, drizzled with olive oil and topped with thin slices of mozzarella cheese. A huge hunk of hearty bread sat perched on the plate's edge. “I know it's early for lunch, but go ahead and dig in.” “Thanks. I didn't really eat breakfast earlier.” Colin cut into a tomato, gathered some cucumber and cheese onto his fork, and took a huge mouthful. The cool, fresh vegetables burst with perfection on his tongue, and the rich chaser of cheese melted in his mouth. “Damn, man, that's good stuff.” He tore off a hunk of bread and ran it through some of the olive oil, relishing the pure flavors. “Maybe I should have searched for wine rather than beer.” Shaking his head, Marek took a long drag off his bottle. “Nothing better than a cold beer on a hot day.” Colin lifted his bottle in salute. “True enough.” He suddenly put his drink down and made to rise. “Do you mind drinking out of the bottle? I don't ever pour my beer into a glass, so I didn't think to get one for you.” Marek gestured to the chair with his hand. “Sit down. It's fine. So”—he gathered more food on his fork—“you said someone else owned the house too?” “Mmnn…” Colin paused and finished chewing what he had in his mouth. “Sorry about that. I'm not finished telling you about the first owners. Everyone on Stewart's ship was declared dead to the storm, but Beatrice never believed it. She ran her husband's businesses for a while, but eventually sold them. She lived off the money for the rest of her life, and she never left Fiji. She stayed here, in this house, feeling certain in her heart one day Stewart would return, and she wanted to be where he could find her.” Colin raised a brow as he gathered another helping of tomato. “He never did

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come back. Probably did die in that storm. Beatrice passed in this house, in nineteen sixty-nine.” A quick flicker darkened the blue in Marek's eyes, shifting them to midnight. “She lived a long time without him.” “Yeah, she did. It gave the house a beautiful, if sad, legacy.” Questions about Payton and Marek's obvious loss of his partner sat thick in Colin's throat, nearly choking him. The man had to have died; Marek's response to his name and the carving on the door spoke of a connection that would not have been severed any other way. Uncertainty wiggled inside Colin, looking for a place to take root. In his dreams, Colin only wanted to take that man's—Marek's—pain away and give him someone to cling to in the dark. In reality, sitting across from someone who had so clearly loved another man, Colin worried that even if his dreams were correct, and he was supposed to be here, would his role be playing second fiddle to a ghost? Curiosity, jealousy, and insecurity mingled inside Colin, churning his stomach. If only Marek would tell him something about Payton; if Colin could come at this new friendship from a place of knowledge, he knew he would be able to at least accept Payton, if not exactly embrace him. “Can I—” Stop it. Don't even think about asking. Marek will kick you right out the door and never let you back in. Remember, he doesn't have the advantage of the dreams you've lived with all this time, so he is on shaky footing in this thing. “—get you something while I'm up? I need a glass of water.” Colin bit his cheek and stifled the burn to know more about Marek and his past. He stood and quickly pulled a tumbler from the cabinet, walked to the sink, averting his face while he regrouped. “I'm good with what I have here.” Colin kept his head down and his eyes off the window, looking only at the sink while he turned the knob on a water purifier attachment and filled his glass. “I'll just be a second.” Standing at the sink, Colin gulped down every drop of water and filled the glass again. His heart rate finally slowed to a natural rhythm, and he joined Marek at the table once more. “Okay, so, second set of owners. American couple. He was some rich fat cat dude with a whole lot of money, and the wife was number three, the realtor believes. I got all the information about the second couple from her, the one who sold you the house.” Colin remembered his pleasure yesterday at the thought of poking Marek with whatever he found; now, he worried the inside of his cheek to the point of drawing blood. “You probably don't think it was very cool of me to go searching for all this stuff behind your back.” His plate empty, Marek leaned back in his chair. He remained silent for an uncomfortably long stretch of time, rolling his bottle of beer between his hands. “I believe you've had these dreams you say you have, so I can understand why you want some answers.” Thank you, God. A torrent of relief rushed over Colin, stealing away a weight from his shoulders he hadn't even realized was there. “Anything I find out about you will

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come from you.” His hands trembled, and he swirled a chunk of bread in olive oil to cover it up. “I will not go searching secondary sources to get those questions answered. I promise you that.” Marek dipped his head. “So you've said. Go ahead and tell me about the previous owners.” “According to your realtor, the wife of the second couple was considerably younger than her husband, and she had him by the dick, so to speak. The realtor's father was the original handler for the house, and he trained his two daughters to take over his business one day. Which they did, much to their mother's dismay, who wanted either one or both of them to land a wealthy visitor to the islands.” Colin caught himself about to yammer on some more, stopped, and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, that was off track. We got to talking about other things while chatting about the history of the house.” “You seem to have that way about you.” Marek's comment nicked at Colin's confidence, and he frowned. “What way?” “The way that gets people revealing private things about themselves as if they've known you forever.” Colin sat up a little straighter, covering his reaction to the painful jab. “I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a searing judgment.” “It's just a statement based on observation.” Marek lifted his attention from the table, and a hint of faraway softness crept into his stare and voice. “I can remember you being similar when we were teenagers.” He paused as soon as the words left his lips, shook his head, and Colin heard him growl the start of a curse. Abruptly, Marek stood and collected their empty plates. “Never mind. It doesn't mean anything. I shouldn't even have said it. Just finish your story.” “Ah, okay.” As Marek rinsed off their dishes, Colin studied his rigid back and jerky hand movements. Thick lines of muscle moved under his sun-darkened skin, and his trunks sat low on his hips, teasing Colin into thinking he might get a glimpse of something more. God, I bet he has the tightest, most amazing, fuckable ass. Colin's cock stirred, responding to the direction of his thoughts. He remembered that last dream, where Marek offered himself to Colin for the taking. Colin swallowed a groan as he got to his feet, and he made it halfway to Marek with the full intention of slipping in behind him and pushing those swim trunks to the kitchen floor. A few nights away from his dreams, and Colin already missed the feel of Marek's hard body against his. Colin reached out, saw his own fingers nearly graze the small of Marek's back, and just in time snatched his hand away. No. This is not your dreams. He isn't ready. Colin tore his gaze away and turned, busying himself by walking to the open back door. A storm door with a screened upper half kept the bugs out, but the waft of sweet, tropical flowers and damp, rich earth tickled Colin's nose. Again, the sense of belonging reared itself, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet. Lifting one foot then the other, Colin turned to Marek. “Did you feel that?”

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Marek glanced up from drying his hands on a towel. “Feel what?” “Never mind.” He already thinks I'm crazy enough, no point in adding to it. “So,” Colin started again, “with the second couple, the husband was totally smitten with his wife, really all out there proclaiming his love for her. He gave her everything, including this house, which she loved on sight and wanted for her own. He bought it for her, and while they didn't live here, they came often for vacations. The wife sometimes came without him. One day, the husband decided to surprise his wife with a visit and found a couple of local guys balling her, right on the floor of their living room. Some of the rest is speculation, a lot of 'this person told this person, who found out from that person' but, the general thought is the wife was pretty arrogant at first, laughing in the husband's face, comparing his ability as a lover to her other men.” “I bet the guy didn't like hearing that,” Marek said. He moved in beside Colin, immediately charging and heating the already warm air around them. Leaning his shoulder against the side of the fridge, Marek stared through the screen. Colin followed his gaze to the mountain beyond. “Even the biggest asshole has pride and likely wouldn't enjoy walking in on two men fucking his pretty young trophy wife.” “Especially if she was loudly enjoying it. She had some staff here,” Colin explained, “and they talked. The husband was shrewd, and she was either stupidly naive or ridiculously arrogant, because the only thing she wanted was this house, and she let her lawyer know it. She played her hand, and the husband made sure she never got it. He supposedly actually really loved her, and when he found out she was never faithful to him, it became his purpose to make her suffer. He dragged the divorce out and made it long and ugly, kicked her out of this house, and made sure to keep it so there was no possible way she could ever step foot in it again.” Marek grimaced. “The man meant business.” Nodding, Colin rubbed his arms, absorbing the cruelty and cold riddled throughout the tale. He moved away from the door and sat back down, his legs suddenly feeling a little unsteady. Marek followed, taking his seat, and his warmth abated Colin's unease enough to continue. “His plan certainly wasn't rational, but I guess revenge isn't. Only, see, the husband didn't live in the house either. He fired everyone who worked here and left the house sitting, empty, rotting, and dying, all to keep it out of her hands. He kept it until she died five years ago, then put it on the market for some astronomical price, not really caring if it sold.” He met Marek's gaze, and his heart thudded at the open interest he found there. “At least that's what your realtor thinks. She believes he didn't really want it to sell and that he was still in love with the ex, all these years later. It was the realtor's job to keep pushing the house though. Then you came along…” “And gave him the asking price without negotiation.” Marek didn't so much as blush at the confession. “I guess he couldn't refuse.” Can I? Should I? Biting the bullet, Colin blurted, “Why did you buy it?” “Truth?”

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Relief wobbled Colin's tight smile. “Yeah.” “It was available, she showed it to me first, and it was secluded enough that I knew I would be alone.” Darkness clouded Marek's eyes, and a roughness Colin was already accustomed to hearing took over his voice. “I didn't need it to be or do any more than that.” “And here I come barging in on your solitude, making outrageous claims, and disturbing your peace.” “Yeah, that you did.” Nothing in Marek looked remotely pleased. Colin leaned into the rejection, absorbing the emotional bruising that knocked him in the gut. This can't be my destiny if only half of us wants it. “Right. Listen.” Standing, he forced himself to hold his head high. “I think it'll be a damn sight harder, but I will figure out these dreams without bothering you anymore. I can see that's what you want.” Fuck. I will not hang around where I'm not wanted. “Thank you for your time.” He spun from the table and speed-walked across the kitchen. “Wait.” Marek caught up to Colin in two steps and grabbed his arm, burning Colin's flesh. Tugging, he turned Colin around. “I apologize. I'm not used to a lot of the social niceties anymore. I didn't mean to make you feel bad.” “I won't lie; it stung to hear,” Colin admitted. “Maybe because deep down I know it's the truth. I did barge in here and disrupt your life. Regardless of the powerful dreams I've been having and what I want to know about them, I really had no right.” “Listen, what's done is done. You're here, and so now I'm involved in trying to figure this out too.” Marek's face still held all blunt, unforgiving edges, but his eyes lost some of the hardness. “How about I take you out on my boat for a few hours?” he asked. “I can take you to a place where there's a good chance you'll see some bull sharks.” His hand slid down Colin's arm, briefly curling around Colin's wrist, sparking fire and making his breath catch. Marek's gaze shot up, and as quickly as it felt almost like a hold, Marek yanked the touch away. “No big deal,” he said. “I'm just giving you today, like you asked, and I agreed.” Liar. For just a split second, naked need shone in Marek's eyes. He clearly wasn't ready to admit he wanted Colin's company, but Colin had seen it, and right now, he didn't need anything else. “Okay.” Smart or not, Colin plastered a big, happy smile on his face. God, he just wanted to spend time with this man. “Let's go see some sharks.”

***** “Be careful as you head back,” Marek offered from behind Colin. “Twilight on the water can be tricky.”

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Colin tossed his towel and trunks in his speedboat and turned to face Marek. Against the backdrop of his home and the early evening sun casting him half in the shade, Marek made an imposing figure in fresh blue jeans and a khaki shirt. They had spent more time together on Marek's boat than Colin could have hoped. After a sweaty day out in the searing sun, Marek had even invited Colin to use his shower so he could change into some clean clothes. Colin had hung around while Marek did the same, trying to stretch the day just a little bit longer. His feet did not want to leave this dock, but he knew if he waited too much longer, he would get caught driving the boat back to Vanua Levu in the dark. Colin still had a million things he wanted to say and ask Marek, but all of them stayed trapped in the back of his throat. Marek looked to the water and then the sky. “You should probably get going.” “I know. I will. Thank you for today.” Uncertain and a little bit scared, Colin held back, when everything in him wanted to rush Marek and hold him close. “I had an amazing time.” With you. “Yeah, it was good.” A little smile pulled at the edge of Marek's mouth, making Colin's chest squeeze. “It was a nice afternoon.” “It was.” Aching to get close one more time, Colin walked to where Marek stood and got almost close enough for their fronts to touch. Breathing became a little more difficult in this proximity, but when Colin lifted his gaze and met Marek's blue, blue eyes, he decided he could happily live with a little breathlessness around this man. “Thank you for believing me. And for not running me off your island.” “It's all right.” Marek's tone dropped to a sandpaper whisper, and his pupils widened, nearly eclipsing the blue. “I don't know what I can do, but if I can help you figure some of it out, I will.” “Thank you. Have a good night.” Leaning in—oh God, I have to know—Colin pressed a kiss against Marek's cheek. His lips lingered on warm skin, and his chin rubbed against the softness of Marek's beard. Inhaling the light fragrance of soap and toothpaste, Colin grazed his cheek and jaw over Marek's, closing his eyes as he slowly searched and found Marek's mouth with his. Their breath mingled, and feeling a tremble, Colin wasn't sure if it came from him or Marek. Scraping a kiss there, clinging for just a moment, Colin whispered, “I'll see you tomorrow. I don't think I can stay away.” Tasting one more time, Colin kept his head down as he pulled away. He drove off without another word, the feel of Marek still on his lips. Colin didn't look back. Not right now. Not after kissing Marek. It would have crushed him to find horror in the other man's eyes. Tomorrow would be soon enough for answers.

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Chapter Eight Hardly even a kiss, yet the caress of Colin's lips on Marek's lingered, making them absurdly sensitive, still, more than twelve hours later as he brushed his teeth the next morning. Marek had stood on the dock while hunger raced through him—frightening in its intensity—as he absorbed Colin's kiss and caress. He hadn't touched or been inside anyone in two and a half years, and his body wanted to mate, even if he wasn't sure his heart was ready for the entanglement. Having sex with Colin would be more than a mere physical act of relief; Marek already understood that, even if he didn't have a clue about the cause of the man's bizarre dreams. He spit toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth out with a swirl of water. While wiping a hand towel across his lips, drying them, the terrycloth pulled on his lower lip. Marek immediately pictured Colin's mouth doing the same and groaned as his cock stirred, rising from a patch of dark hair. He watched his erection grow in the reflection of the mirror, and a pearl of lubricant form on the tip. Reaching down, Marek stroked his length, hissing at the full rigidity already straining his penis. He'd given himself a handjob hundreds of times during his time alone on this island, but it had been a long time since he'd been so hard it almost hurt to touch himself. He pumped a dollop of lotion from a bottle sitting on the basin and rubbed it all over his prick, taking a second to feel the raised veins and thick head, and to reach under and fondle his high, tight balls. Through the rush of sharp desire in touching himself, Marek wondered if Colin would find his body attractive. A soft kiss was one thing, and Colin said they'd had sex many times in his dreams, but as Marek worked his dick in his fist, he burned to know how deeply Colin would suck him off, or if he would cry with pleasure or shy away when he really had Marek's dick pounding aggressively in his ass.

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Marek planted one hand on the bathroom sink, and his eyelids slid to half-mast as his cock throbbed in his hand, eager to find another man's hole and push inside. A picture of Colin materialized in his mind, and Marek's heart rate increased with the speed of his hand whipping over his dick. Naked as the day God put him on this earth, Colin emerged from the ocean, beckoning Marek closer with nothing more than his beautiful body and probing green eyes. His sun-kissed golden skin glistened with moisture, and his muscles bunched and released in efficient lines as he walked out of the water onto the white sand of Marek's beach. His penis jutted out big and proud, and Colin made no effort to hide it from Marek's open stare. Suddenly, the image faded with the glitter of a mirage. Marek cried out, not yet ready to let the other man go. His too-hard cock ached and pulsed in his hand, and his balls sat lodged snug against his body, but no matter how fast or hard Marek yanked on his dick, release would not set him free. “Please.” His voice raspy, Marek blinked at the agonized, base picture he made in the mirror, in pain with the need to come. “Help me.” When Marek opened his eyes again, a phantom image of Colin leaned over the sink, his lust-filled gaze finding Marek's in the reflection. Bent over, Colin had one hand on the steamy bathroom mirror, fingers wide open, making streaks in the foggy glass. He had his other in a reach around with two fingers buried in his own ass, working himself open with a scissoring motion. Before Marek could salivate over the hot spectacle, Colin withdrew his digits from his pucker, pushed back, and rubbed his crease right along the length of Marek's rearing cock, pushing him over the edge. Marek rammed his penis into Colin's willing ass, mounting him in one deep thrust, and took Colin's burning passage to the hilt. He covered Colin's hand on the mirror, found equal wanting in the other man's stare, and got lost in it. With a surge of emotion, Marek lost control of his body and dumped his seed in Colin's tight ass. He pumped his hips, one, two, three times, filling Colin with cum; on the fourth, Marek's legs weakened. He blinked…and found himself braced against the mirror over the sink alone. His semen pooled on the counter and dripped over the lip, a line slowly streaking the wood as it made its way to the floor. Disturbed by the power of his orgasm, and by how naturally his thoughts sought out Colin, Marek cleaned up the bathroom and washed his spent cock without looking in the mirror again. Moving into his bedroom, he gathered clothes and dressed himself on routine, never much changing up or worrying about what he wore. As he fastened his belt, the brushed silver surface of the buckle itself weakened his legs and had him stumbling to the bed. Not long after they met, Payton had teased Marek mercilessly about the one ratty brown belt in his wardrobe, something Payton had the advantage of seeing very closely on the first two occasions of them meeting. Marek insisted he wouldn't waste money on a new belt when the one he had held his jeans up perfectly fine. After they started seeing each other, Payton had given him a gift: two new belts, one black and one

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brown, but told him he had fond memories of undoing the old one and not to throw it away. Today, Marek wore the brown one Payton had given him. The old one was six feet in the ground in Pittsburgh with his dead lover. Staggered by thoughts of Payton, stronger than any Marek had experienced in quite some time, Marek's head started to spin with possibilities. “Christ, Pay,” he whispered, “I know you would want me to be happy again. Are you making Colin have those dreams? Did you bring him here to me?” Silence encapsulated Marek's bedroom. No breeze drifted in through the open window, and no birds or bugs chirped in greeting the day. It felt like Marek sat in a void. No spectral soul hovered in the room; it was just Marek, alone. He rubbed his face and scratched his beard, and the grit of tired irritated his eyes. Payton wasn't here guiding him or magically manipulating his and Colin's lives from the grave. Marek knew the man wouldn't hide from him if he did still wander this earth as a ghost. More than that, Marek would feel Payton's lighthearted, easy presence surrounding him if he were here, and right now, Marek could not. Not this time. Right after Payton's death, mired in grief and guilt, Marek believed Payton visited him, once, in his old place back in Pittsburgh. Drunk off his ass every night for almost a month, Marek had opened his eyes in the pitch-black darkness and saw Payton kneeling before him. Smiling sadly, Payton had taken Marek's face in his hands and brushed the flow of tears away from his eyes. His familiar, lopsided smile tore a sob out of Marek, but Payton only pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He had whispered, “Find peace for yourself, my sweet man. I don't want to head home knowing I destroyed you.” Marek brokenly promised he would, for Payton. With that, Payton's vow of “I love you” resonated deeply in Marek's heart, and his lover disappeared. After that vision, Marek sold the scrap metal company and got out of Pittsburgh. Peace would never come to him in the place where Payton had been murdered. Where Marek's own selfishness and fears had kept them from being the couple Payton so wanted them to be. Sitting in his bedroom, right now, Marek knew Payton was not responsible for Colin's dreams. He did not guide Colin to Fiji and Marek's home; Marek felt that truth powerfully in his gut. But if it's not you, babe, then who? What? Another picture of Colin filled Marek's head, and his near physical perfection stoked the embers inside Marek that responded to men. Colin's eyes lit up when he smiled, and his infectious laugh fluttered butterflies in Marek's stomach. More than that, Colin's sheer tenacity and sincerity scratched at the slammed-shut door inside Marek, getting the key he held very near to the rusty lock within. I don't want him

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looking in there. Sweat broke out on Marek's upper lip, and his heart raced too fast. He'll hate me if he finds out why that terrible night in Henderson happened. The hum of activity on the water broke through the eerie silence of the morning. Marek moved across the room, peeked out the window, and saw Colin's speedboat slicing across the water toward the dock. Oh Christ. Marek exhaled an uneven breath. I can't be close to him right now. Lingering arousal for Colin, as well as thoughts of Payton, swirled in Marek's head, confusing his already sleep-deprived mind and sending panic in a flood throughout his body. I don't know what I'll do if he touches me again. I'm not ready. After quickly grabbing a notepad and pen, Marek flew out of his room and down the stairs.

***** “Hello?” Colin shut the door behind him and draped a garment bag across the railing at the bottom of the stairs. “Marek? Good morning!” No answer. Disappointment lanced Colin even though he had anticipated this possible result. It was too much to hope the man would greet him at the front door with a glass of orange juice and an order to prepare himself for a day full of fucking. It wouldn't surprise Colin to find Marek working in his greenhouse; Colin sensed the man spent a lot of time holed up in there. Close to Payton but away from the world. Familiar knots tightened in Colin's stomach, twisting him with worry that he would lose Marek before he even had him. Colin knew it was foolhardy to think he had a right to Marek based purely on a relationship in dreams, especially since Marek didn't even share the same awareness. Didn't change the need living inside him, though, clawing to get free. He wanted to stride up to Marek and kiss him full on the mouth, in front of an audience, to stake ownership once and for all. In front of a ghost too, if necessary. Steeling himself for a potential battle, Colin muttered, “No time like the present.” Passing through the kitchen, his mind fully on his next plan of attack, Colin almost missed the note clipped to the refrigerator door. Scrawled out in block letters with bold lines, it read: I'm okay. Went for a hike. Don't know what time I'll be back.—Marek. Colin couldn't help grinning at the man's signature. As if Colin wouldn't know who left the note. As quickly as Colin smiled at the thoughtful gesture of the little missive, it wobbled and went away. He covered the note with his open hand and leaned his forehead into the fridge, sighing. I kissed him too soon. I scared him. Panicking for a second, then pausing to think for a longer minute, Colin shuffled through the options for his next move. Tossing idea after idea aside as not right for Marek, Colin settled on perhaps the riskiest of all moves. It wasted precious time and put the ball entirely in Marek's court.

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Colin grabbed the note off the fridge and tucked it into his pocket. Taking a second to swipe the notepad off the counter, he backtracked through the house. Only one thing to do; Colin grabbed his bag off the railing and walked up the stairs, heading straight for Marek's bedroom.

***** Hours later, emerging from around the side of the house, Marek stalled, slumping against the side of the porch when he didn't see Colin's boat tethered to the dock. He didn't stay. Disappointment stabbed Marek, and he chuckled dryly at his own contrary thoughts. He ran to hide in the mountain, missing breakfast and lunch entirely so he could avoid Colin, and now here he stood, hurt that the man gave him exactly what he wanted: solitude on his island. Dragging his feet, Marek went inside, made himself a veggie sandwich, and downed a few chips with an icy fruit drink. With his mind centered squarely on Colin, though, he barely tasted the meal. His clothes were dirty and drenched in sweat after his hike, his mood had turned foul, and Marek didn't have anyone to blame but himself. He rinsed his plate and glass and put them in the dishwasher, muttering obscenities to himself as he climbed the stairs. Marek's entire life in Henderson had centered around repression and hiding virtually every thought, opinion, and feeling he ever experienced, always sensing his parents and brother would more than reject him if they ever found out who the real Marek was; they would have brutalized him and then thrown him out on his ass. Upon Payton's death, Marek had made the trip to Henderson to tell his family he was gay and would no longer hide it. They reacted with disgust and violence, as he'd always feared they would, and Marek no longer had contact with them. On the day Marek put Payton in the ground, he swore he would never hide who he was and what he wanted ever again. Only, Marek hadn't counted on Colin, the one man whose past tangled Marek up in a blanket of guilt and shame he could never release. A terrible choice made long ago, brought to the surface and relived repeatedly in his nightmares ever since Payton's murder. The part he played in Colin's attack. Why did it have to be you, Colin? The one person who might make me break my promise and deny myself what I really want. I think with you. Feeling rudderless, Marek entered his bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks. “What?” Marek went closer, halting in front of his wardrobe, where a tan, lightweight suit hung from the door. It had a note speared through the hanger hook, and Marek ripped it off, sitting down on his bed to read. Come to my friends' wedding tonight. Jordan and Tag say they would love to have you. You can stand off to the side, out of the way, if you want, no big deal. I didn't know if you had a suit, and we're close to the same size, so I brought you one of mine. I'd love it if you would come. It's silly, but I missed you today. Hope to see you there.—Colin.

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Listed at the bottom of the note was a location and time. Marek crumpled the paper and brought it to his mouth, his eyes falling closed as he fought a wave of longing strong enough to pull him under. His pulse raced, pumping so fast Marek opened his eyes and could see the beat under the skin on his wrist. Christ, he didn't know what the hell to do anymore. Go to the wedding, essentially declaring to Colin he wanted to be with the man, and in the process open himself up to a potential shitstorm of pain. Or stay home, reject Colin openly, and hurt him in front of his friends. Also probably run him off for good. Marek's chest squeezed just thinking about never seeing Colin again. If I could have just a day with Payton back, living openly, I would snatch it in a heartbeat. Today, if Payton were around haunting this place, Marek knew the man would materialize and smack him for missing a wedding and a chance to get to know a new person better. Yet more proof that Payton had no part in Colin's dreams. Remembering his promise to Payton, Marek stood and went into his bathroom. Beyond his vow to his former partner, and the happiness he knew Payton would want for him, Marek had missed Colin today while hiding up in the mountain. Looking at the mess staring back at him in the mirror, and getting a whiff of the stink clinging to his body, Marek chuckled and turned on the shower. He had some work to do.

***** Tag jumped to Colin's side as soon as Colin entered the bedroom. “Is she freaking out yet?” he asked. “Tell me she hasn't bolted for Australia.” Laughing, Colin strode across the bedroom and straightened Tag's tie. “Jordan is still here. Getting nervous as hell, though. You're right about that.” “I knew she would.” Tag spun away and walked to the sliding glass door, and Colin joined him. They looked down on the beach where Tag would soon say his vows. Torches were lit, already blazing for when the sun would set, and orchids littered the beach. No chairs; the witnesses would stand during the brief exchange of vows. The small number of guests already mingled, most of them members of Tag's family. An older gentleman looked up and waved. Tag waved back and wiped his hand on his suit pants. “Are you nervous?” Colin asked. Tag shook his head, his focus still on the scene below. “Not for myself. I've wanted to marry that woman since the day I met her. Shit, though. Jordan is all tough, but she's scared as hell of marriage.” God, Colin envied Jordan the love and understanding Tag had for her. “You would be wary too if you had the family she grew up in.” He slid Tag a sidelong glance. “Just don't give her any reason to regret taking this chance with you.”

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“Never gonna have to worry about that.” Tag exhaled and started pacing the length of the bedroom. “As long as I can get her to the minister to say her vows.” Colin followed Tag's track from his position at the sliding doors. “Jordan has three women in that room with her who aren't going to let her panic and run. She doesn't want to run anyway. She loves you; she's just frightened of the everyday stuff of being together that comes with a marriage.” “Yeah, I know. I just have to remember it took her a while to settle into believing in me as a boyfriend, so it's probably going to take the same to get her to trust me as a husband. I'm prepared.” Tag finally stopped circling the room and looked up at Colin. “How about you? Do you see your guy down there yet?” Colin had shared details of his dreams, and the reality of them manifesting in Fiji, when talking to Jordan and Tag about inviting Marek to the wedding. Looking down at the beach from the second-story window, Colin searched the small gathering. No Marek in sight. Deflating, he said, “No. I guess it was a long shot, at best. He doesn't know anyone, and from what I've picked up about him over the last few days, he seems a very private man.” Colin tried to smile in the face of defeat, but his reflection in the window showed the hurt in his eyes. “What will you do now?” “Sleep on it. See what my gut tells me tomorrow.” Although, damn, Colin had been so certain Marek would show, despite the discomfort he might feel in a group of strangers. Tag joined Colin at the door once again. “If you think these dreams mean something important, if this man is who you want, and you sense he wants the same, don't let his fear or yours hold you back. Look at me.” He lifted his arms and turned in a circle. “I'm in fucking paradise marrying the woman of my dreams.” “Thanks, man.” Smacking Tag on his thick shoulder, Colin covered his swell of emotion with a lighthearted tease. “If you swung my way, I might fight just about anyone to get you for myself.” “If I swung your way, you'd already have me on my back. Well”—Tag flashed a fast grin and arched a brow—“maybe the other way around.” Colin rolled his eyes and laughed. “Right.” Heterosexual males, geez. A knock sounded at the door right then. Tom let himself inside without waiting for a response. “All right, guys. The minister is here. I just talked to Alison, and she says Jordan is ready to make the walk. Let's go.” “Finally,” Tag said. “Let's do this.” He threw his arm around Colin and hauled him to the door. He grabbed Tom too and had them both half running to keep up with his race to the altar. Tom joked, “Someone wants a wedding night.” Colin jogged, almost tripping as he leaned behind Tag and accepted Tom's high five.

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***** Colin stood between Tag and Tom and looked over the crowd gathered, proud and happy as hell for Jordan and Tag. He shifted, searching for where Jordan would emerge from the rented bungalow and walk down the “aisle” to her groom. Instead of Jordan, Colin froze on the face he crossed instead. Holding back a bit among the palm trees, Marek stood, looking right at Colin. He's here. Tall and fit, wearing Colin's tan suit, the man stole Colin's breath. Somewhere in Marek's schedule today, someone had given him a haircut. And his face, oh God, his face was shaved clean. No more beard. Just…Marek remained. Holy shit. Colin trembled where he stood. He is stunning.

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Chapter Nine Colin crossed the expanse of beach and approached Marek after the ceremony, unable to believe the dryness in his mouth and the way he perspired. God, what the fuck is wrong with me? I've let this man inside me hundreds of times in my dreams. The answer was simple. This was real, and Colin wanted Marek to like him, to be attracted to him in reality. The dreams didn't matter anymore. Everything Colin did from here on out, in person, did. He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand in greeting. “Hi. I'm glad you came.” His voice wavered when Marek engulfed his palm in a firm shake. God, he turns me into putty with hardly a look or touch. Marek dipped his head and gave Colin a little smile. “Thank you.” He let go and slid his hands into his trouser pockets—Colin's trouser pockets. Damn, the guy looked good in Colin's suit. “It was a pretty ceremony, even from back here.” He looked over Colin's shoulder to the gathering behind them. “Simple. Nice.” “Except for the clothes.” Colin reached up, undid the top button on his shirt, and loosened his pale blue tie, breathing a little easier when he did. “Leave it to Jordan to want a wedding on a beach, but at the same time want everyone in the party to look like they're standing in a traditional church wedding.” “Right.” Marek eyed Colin's black suit and shiny shoes. “You look nice though.” Heat flamed Colin's face. He could only pray the evening shadows covered his telltale sign of pleasure. “Thanks.” “Everyone does,” Marek quickly added. He darted his attention off Colin once again. “And your friends look happy.” “Oh, absolutely happy. They're a good match. Right for each other. All that kind of good stuff.” “Right.”

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Nerves ate at Colin, tripping up the wires in his brain that connected to form sentences. He couldn't seem to find the middle ground between innate rambling and utter silence. Fuck, though, he just could not get over Marek's trimmed, dark hair, and his clean-shaven face. No tan lines existed from the cover of facial hair, just smooth skin that looked prone to five o'clock shadow. “Col!” Jordan's voice boomed across the night sky, bellowing from the deck of the house. “Bring your friend and come get food! I haven't eaten all day! Let's go!” Colin turned, and Jordan beckoned at him like a traffic controller bringing in a plane on manual. With her veil thrown back, her strapless white gown, and her bouquet still in one hand, Colin had to laugh. Shifting, Colin included Marek. “You want to go meet my friends?” He indicated the deck with a move of his shoulder. “I promise they're casual and cool and won't make a big deal or single you out for teasing.” He smiled wryly. “They'll do that to me alone later on.” Marek's focus went from Colin to the crowd walking up to the rental bungalow's back deck. He studied the shadowed bodies for a long minute, and Colin could see his hand beating against his thigh inside his pocket. “Okay,” he finally said. “I'd like something to eat.” “Good.” Colin evened out his voice and stamped down any visual excitement at his small victory. Inside, he whooped like a little boy. “Follow me.”

***** Colin lifted his face and for a moment closed his eyes. “The cool breeze feels nice, doesn't it?” “Yeah,” Marek murmured, his voice hushed. “Your friends couldn't have picked a better night for a wedding.” With bare feet and his dress pants rolled up to his calves, Colin walked along the darkened beach. The water lapped onto the shore and washed over his toes, up to his ankles, and tickled his skin. Marek strolled beside Colin free of his shoes and socks too; he had his tie now fully undone, hanging loosely around his neck. Colin had removed his before sitting down to eat, and his jacket remained back at the bungalow as well. The bride and groom had left for a luxury honeymoon suite a short while ago to enjoy some privacy, and most of Tag's family had returned to their hotel. A handful of people remained talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. Soft strains of slow music from Sylvia's iPod drifted down the beach, snaking its haunting melody into Colin's marrow. The moon looked like it touched the water, he had a gorgeous-asall-get-out man at his side, and Colin didn't think he had been in such a romantic setting in his life. “Dance with me,” he whispered before he chickened out.

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Marek jerked, looking like he came out of a trance. “What?” He glanced in each direction of the deserted stretch of beach. “I can't. I don't know how to dance.” “I don't either. Not really. Just”—please don't turn me down—“try.” Colin lifted his arms in a waltz-type hold. He chewed on his cheek, waiting with his arms hanging in the air. “It's okay. Nobody can see us.” Stepping in, Marek grabbed Colin's hand and slid his arm around his waist, tugging him close. Colin's free arm automatically came to rest across Marek's shoulders. His blood raced, tingling awareness of Marek all through his body. “I wasn't concerned about someone seeing us.” A gruff edge thickened Marek's tone. “Just so you know.” Colin pressed the side of his head against Marek's and started to sway to the barely audible song. “All right. I apologize.” He closed his eyes and brushed his fingers over the edges of Marek's newly shorn hair, sinking into the heady pull of the man's warmth, scent, his very being. After a moment, Colin felt the tension leave Marek's body, and the man slipped into the rhythm of their modified dance. They naturally shifted their lower bodies so that Marek's leg slipped in between Colin's, and his hand drifted to the lowest, most sensitive part of Colin's back. His open palm rested right above the cleft of Colin's ass. Oh God. Once again, jitters got Colin's mouth working without communicating with his brain. “I like being able to see your face. All of it, I mean. You're very attractive.” Stricken, Colin pulled back and found Marek's gaze. “Not that I didn't think you were before. You were. Are. You know…attractive.” Marek brought their clasped hands to Colin's mouth and pressed a pair of fingers to his lips. “I got it. Thank you.” He settled their linked fingers against his chest, and more of his heat seeped into Colin's bloodstream, pulling him into a hold that went well beyond Marek's arm around his waist. They moved in a tightly woven, slow circle, their bodies touching from top to bottom. Marek's mouth dipped near Colin's ear, and as he spoke, his lips brushed against the outer shell. “What I said earlier”—the low tone slipped right into Colin's blood— “about you looking nice in your suit, wasn't entirely true. I meant to say you looked incredibly sexy. I like you this way, though, sort of disheveled, even more.” Colin's legs went a little shaky, and his throat released a funny little sound. “Ohh, man…” What have I unleashed? “You're very good at this flirty, seduction thing.” “No. Trust me”—more of that rough quality scratched at Marek's voice—“I'm not.” Marek's confession somehow undid Colin even more. He breathed in the outdoorsy, clean fragrance that clung to Marek and had no ability to fight the dizzying need coursing through his body. I like this man—this real man—so much. Diving into the

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oncoming swell, Colin nuzzled his head into the side of Marek's, searching for any kind of touch. Marek gasped as cheekbone slid against cheekbone, but Colin could not stop. His lips parted, searching for oxygen as he dragged his mouth down Marek's nearly smooth jaw. Prickles of new growth abraded his lips, the rough sensation speeding up his heartbeat. Sharp puffs of breath panted humid heat against Colin's cheek, and the hand at his back curled into a tight ball. Sensing equal, nervous wanting, Colin pulled back just a sliver, searching for confirmation in Marek's eyes. Marek's stare shone bright in the darkness, the blue in his irises almost a match for the night sky behind him glittering with stars. His breathing registered as shallow as Colin's did, and his mouth somehow already looked swollen from kisses. Marek held Colin's gaze, and Colin's cock grew hard in response, digging into Marek's thigh. Colin watched Marek's eyes turn even darker. With hunger. Colin pushed his rigid length into Marek's leg and tempted rejection once again. “For you.” He knew he risked breaking the fragile bond growing between them, but unlike with any lover in his past, he did not censor himself with this man. “For two years, Marek, only for y—” His pupils flaring, Marek groaned and swooped in, slashing his mouth across Colin's in an open, hot kiss. He released Colin's hand from his chest and tunneled his fingers into Colin's hair, tilting his head back and holding it prisoner as he deepened the kiss. Colin grabbed a fistful of Marek's shirt, moaning as he opened his mouth, eagerly accepting the sweep of Marek's tongue. The biting-sweet flavor of pineapple took over Colin's mouth, reminding him of the dessert he had watched Marek devour a short time ago. He kissed Marek with equal fervor, but fought mightily against his need to climb all over the man and somehow get inside his skin to learn more. Marek let go of Colin's hair and ran his hands all up and down Colin's back, lighting his flesh on fire, making Colin feel like he didn't have a shirt on at all. Biting Colin's lips, Marek ordered roughly, “Down. Lay down.” He backed Colin up a dozen steps, hooked Colin's leg with his, and toppled them both into the sand. Marek's weight covered Colin, blanketing him in a solid wall of heat and muscle. Colin reveled in the tangle and aggression, and he gasped as Marek's growing erection burrowed against the V of his legs. Marek took advantage and sank his tongue into Colin's mouth, eating him as voraciously as he had done that pineapple tart. Skating his hands up Colin's arms, Marek took Colin's face in a bruising hold, holding his jaw open for the near violent mating. Colin needed no assistance and licked Marek with equal excitement; he spread his legs and shoved his hips up to meet the thrust of Marek's cock. Thick ridges rubbed against one another with two layers of pants between them, and pent-up sexual frustration dragged a ragged noise out of Colin's throat. His prick already leaked precum, dampening his underwear and pants. The musk of arousal mixed with the sand, water, and salty air, clouding Colin's ability to think of anything beyond getting closer to this man.

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Shoving his hands between their fused torsos, Colin tried to work open Marek's belt. His fingers fumbled and pinched in the slide of the buckle. He tore away from the kiss, frantic for more. “Help me.” Colin finally got the belt open and went for the closure on Marek's pants. “I need to feel your cock.” Marek lifted up on one arm and knocked Colin's hand away from his zipper. “Fuck, I need it too. Do yours while I finish mine.” Colin mastered his shaking hands and undid his belt and pants in record time. His hands stilling on the elastic waist of his underwear, Colin watched, fascinated, as Marek pushed down his zipper and spread the placket of his pants. Easing down just the front of his underwear, Marek released the thick length of his dick. Its moist tip smeared preejaculate on the back of Colin's hand, spurring Colin into motion. He shifted his lower body, wiggled his pants and underwear down to his hips, and his penis reared hard toward his stomach. Reaching down, he adjusted himself, rubbed his balls, and gritted his teeth against the supersensitized state of his cum-filled sac. “Shit, you have a fucking amazing cock. Just…” Marek groaned, the noise coming from deep inside his body. He moved Colin's hand away and pinned his arm to the sand as he lowered himself, brushing his penis against Colin's for the first time. “Jesus Christ…” Marek rubbed his length against Colin, and his face twisted, as if in pain. “Yeah…” He ground down on Colin and circled his cock again. “Just this.” Marek twined his fingers in Colin's and raised them over his head. Holding them down in the sand, he started to move. Colin bit his cheek, struggling to breathe on the sandwiched, first full slide of Marek's length against his. The rest of their bodies remained clothed, and with the complete press of Marek's torso on his, Colin could not see the source of pleasure that wreaked havoc through every nerve in his body. He looked in Marek's eyes, felt the strain in his arms as the other man held him down, and gloried in the incessant, slick, hot rub of their straining pricks. Marek lowered his forehead to Colin's, digging in with pressure that forced Colin deeper into the sand. The water lapped halfway up their legs, soaking them both, but Colin could not care about anything but the relentless friction Marek delivered to their cocks and the fierce pleasure remapping the planes of his beautiful face. Colin clung to Marek's hands that held him prisoner and writhed against his groin, searching for a harder, rougher—any—additional contact. His ass throbbed for a filling, and his flesh screamed for complete skin-on-skin contact. At the same time, Colin had never been so painfully hard or hot to come with so little, and he swore he could lose it just on the intensity burning in Marek's eyes. “Please…” Colin didn't know what he asked for or what he even wanted; he just felt near to tearing out of his own skin. He pushed up against Marek with all his might and clamped his thighs in a vise on Marek's hips, twisting in an effort to get somehow closer and find relief in the touch of his body. “Oh…shit.” The whipping rub of cocks squeezing between two hard stomachs became too much, and Colin's balls drew up, signaling the end. “Marek…” Unable to hold back, orgasm zipped up Colin's spine,

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corkscrewed in his belly, and finally ripped a shout of pleasure out of him as he spewed his seed between them. Something dark flashed in Marek's gaze on the first heat of Colin's ejaculate spilling against his stomach. He closed his eyes, looking like he fought not to feel it. His mouth fell open anyway; he seized, and then shuddered. He flexed his hips, and a hot line of cum shot out of his slit, smearing with Colin's juices. In rapid succession, three more quick spits accompanied the first, and finally his cock had nothing else to give. Marek's eyes remained closed, blocking Colin out as his body heaved in the aftermath. His shortened breath washed over Colin's face, and Colin sucked in air, searching for normalcy. Marek's hold on Colin's hands above his head did not let up one iota, and Colin's arms started to tingle and go numb. He lifted his head and brushed his lips over Marek's, drawing another tremor out of the man. “Take me inside,” he whispered. He teased Marek's parted lips, licking just inside. “Finish what you started.” His tongue dipped inside the wet cavern of Marek's mouth with a gentle probe, mimicking what he wanted. “Fuck me.” Marek captured Colin's tongue and sucked on it, sending renewed tingling straight to Colin's dick. He opened his eyes, and fire burned within. “I want to turn you over and spread you open and take you until you can't walk without feeling me there.” Marek finally let go of his hold on Colin but quickly shifted them to their sides and snaked his hand down Colin's back, not stopping until he delved two fingers into Colin's crease. “You have a tight little asshole.” Marek fingered Colin's pucker, tapping at the nerve-rich opening. “It definitely needs something to fill it.” Colin pushed his ass back into Marek's teasing, practically purring at the slight contact. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Marek's thick, sticky penis, and stroked it from root to tip. “And you think you've got just the cock for the job, don't you?” Marek jerked. He immediately let go of Colin, rolled away, and scrambled to his feet. “I'm sorry.” He stuffed himself back in his pants and fastened his zipper and belt. “I can't do this after all. I have to go.” He started to back away. “Wait, Marek.” Colin jumped up, holding onto his pants so they didn't slide to his ankles. “What happened?” “No. I just…” The moon shone on Marek's eyes, revealing a brightness that didn't have anything to do with a trick of light. “I have to go.” His chest aching, Colin somehow stepped forward and put command in his voice. “Tell me.” “It doesn't matter.” “Tell me.” “What you just said.” A catch hitched Marek's voice, and he stopped for a moment. He shifted and only gave Colin his stark profile. “Payton kidded with those same words. It's in my head now. He's in my head. I thought I was ready to do this, but

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I can't. I'm not.” He turned away fully, and the vulnerable line of his back cracked Colin's heart. “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I have to go.” Colin stood, impotent, at a loss what to say or do. “You're not even dressed. You don't have any shoes.” “Keep them. I don't care.” After his first steps, Marek picked up speed. His voice barely carried on a sudden gust of wind as he said, “I have to go home.” The cresting swells of the ocean grew bigger, as if the crackle of human emotions swirling in the air ruled the tides. Colin watched Marek run away. His chest hurt, but his mind was a mash of ideas on how to proceed. He only wished he knew which one to choose.

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Chapter Ten Marek paced all around his house, up and down the stairs, moving in and out of shafts of light from various sources blazing in the house. Wind whipped in through the open windows, floating the curtains near to the ceiling like specters in the night. Gentle spits of rain that foretold an upcoming storm dotted the windowsills and floor, but Marek welcomed the forces of nature too much to shut them out. Christ. He had been so close to having Colin right on the beach, no thought to his choice or the myriad of consequences at all. Just a fulfillment of pure, unbridled need. It was more than his cock that ached to be inside a man again, though. For a couple of hours tonight, while socializing with Colin's friends, Marek had felt very nearly human and like he belonged back in the world with other people. Colin was responsible for that. I like him as much as I want him, and that is so, so dangerous for me to feel. The man had a way about him that drew smiles to the faces of everyone around him. Even Marek, for a little while. Marek could see how much Colin's friends adored him, and he could feel their quiet scrutiny, not so much judging Marek for the sake of it, but rather watching him to decide if he was good enough for their dear friend. For a short time, because of Colin's ease and accessibility, Marek had forgotten he wasn't good enough for Colin Baxter. His friends wouldn't want me anywhere near him if they knew the pain I brought him so long ago. Damn it. Colin's personality, just feeling his spirit, had temporarily overshadowed Marek's lifetime of guilt, something he never thought would happen. He hadn't been entirely honest when Colin asked if he had ever had dreams about the guy in the past two years. Truth was, ever since Payton died, Marek had lived with nightmares of his murder. In those dreams, Marek would often twist Payton's death with Colin's assault, making the guilt of Marek's part in the beating hellish enough to jerk him out of sleep.

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Yet somehow, strangely, ever since Colin showed up in Fiji, the man's presence had soothed Marek just as much as he stoked Marek's fear of discovery. Marek didn't care about himself, but goddamnit, being around Colin for just these few days, he didn't think he would survive seeing hatred, hurt, and disgust in Colin's eyes. Directed at him. You probably already hurt him plenty tonight, rejecting him for the memory of Payton. Marek growled, coming to a stop at the foot of the stairs. “Payton.” Dropping to sit near the bottom of the steps, Marek scrubbed his face and pushed his hands through his damp, freshly washed hair. “Why did you have to pop into my head right then, babe?” Marek burned with the desire to fuck Colin, no matter that he had only known him as an adult for a few days. Rubbing against Colin's cock on that beach, and feeling the tight star of the guy's asshole against the tip of his fingers… Marek's prick twitched against his boxer briefs as he relived those few moments in Colin's arms. He wanted Colin, period. He was under no illusions that he could ever have Payton back. Marek didn't think of Colin as a substitute for Payton either. In that moment, though, frightened by his desperation, Marek had panicked, temporarily believing Payton came to him as some kind of warning against getting in any deeper with Colin. Marek invited disaster upon himself by becoming tangled in a complicated web of omission with Colin, and maybe it was best to retreat to the private person he was and let Colin and his weird dreams fly away when his plane took him back home to Austin in five days. He got to his feet, ready to try to get some sleep. Then his front door opened. There stood Colin, duffel in hand, looking like a drowned puppy. “What the hell?” Marek raced to Colin and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind him. “Are you fucking crazy? There's the beginnings of a goddamn hellacious storm starting to kick up out there, you fucking idiot.” His heart raced ridiculously as he envisioned Colin's small boat capsizing with one big wave. “You don't risk your safety in a speedboat.” He ripped Colin's bag out of his hand and threw it on the floor, then tore his lightweight jacket down his arms, leaving that wet mess in a puddle too. “I could fucking strangle you, you stupid jerk.” Anger shook Marek, but he rubbed Colin's arms from top to bottom, feeling the chill under his skin. “Jesus, man. Didn't you learn anything about the power of the ocean from Beatrice's loss?” A big grin took over Colin's lips. “You were listening.” Marek glared at Colin, not amused. “Of course I was listening.” He let go and spun away but came right back with a hard stare and a tight-lipped frown. “I find it damn hard to see anything but you when you're within twenty feet of me. I'm pretty damn sure you already know that.” Colin stepped in even closer, invading Marek's airspace. He looked right in Marek's eyes, without blinking. “Except when you think of Payton, and then you run away.”

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Clenching his jaw, Marek stiffened, working not to sway under the verbal blow. I can't talk about Payton with you. “That's neither here nor there right now.” He moved backward until his spine hit the base of the stair railing, and he covered his retreat with bravado and a loud voice. “I don't care if I fucking called out his name while I had my cock buried in your ass unloading a wad. You still don't drive out in that”—he pointed at the closed door, to the growing storm beyond—“in order to jaw about it.” “I didn't,” Colin said. Clearly feeling well in control, he toed off his sneakers and then his socks as he talked. “I had someone else with a bigger boat, like yours, bring me and drop me off.” A slice of fear rippled up Marek's back and tightened his throat. “And what do you think is going to happen here…” His voice sounded breathy and a little choked to his own ears. “…to bring you all the way out here at night, in this weather?” Colin shrugged. “Don't know for sure.” He lifted his T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor, leaving him only in a pair of damp jeans. He undid the snap, bringing Marek's attention to the line of his scar. Colin worked the zipper down about halfway, revealing a triangle of white underwear, and Marek swallowed convulsively. Fuck. He could see the bulge already growing behind the fabric. “I can tell you one thing though,” Colin added. Rubbing his hand over his prick and then his stomach and chest, Colin guided Marek up to his eyes. Smoldering heat enriched the green. He licked the corner of his lip, a nervous tell, but it only made Marek's dick swell in response. Marek rubbed his fingers over his throat and wrapped his palm around the back of his neck. “Uh-huh.” He lost his voice and tried again. “And what is that?” Leaving his jeans spread in the front, Colin reached around and pushed his hand into the back, moaning when it disappeared all the way to his wrist. He looked at Marek, and the raw heat of sex darkened his eyes to the colors landscaping Marek's mountain. “I have a butt plug in my ass right now,” Colin said. “Keeping me right on the edge.” His confession knocked Marek's legs out and took him down to the stairs. Colin moved in closer, and put his crotch right in front of Marek's face. He stared down, holding Marek's gaze. “But I want it to be you.” Marek looked, listened, absorbed, but he could not move, and his voice abandoned him. He could not tear his stare away from this man standing before him for the world, though, and his loneliness combined with a terrible hunger, terrifying him with his need to mate. With Colin. Colin darted his tongue against the corner of his mouth again, and he slipped his hand out of his jeans. His focus, less sure now, didn't hold as steady as a moment ago. “I understand why you got scared and ran,” he said. His voice wasn't quite as strong, but his chin jutted with character Marek admired. “I don't blame you for getting freaked out. It was an odd coincidence, and I can't even begin to imagine how it must have thrown you for one hell of a loop. I want you, Marek, and I think you want me just

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as much. But if you—we—wait until you never have another thought about Payton, then this will never happen.” Marek closed his eyes against the wash of old pain, reliving it, although he did it now in the muted shades of a watercolor rather than a slash of red or black done in thick oils. A hand cupped his cheek, and Marek opened his eyes to find Colin kneeling before him. “I know you don't want to talk about Payton, and I'm probably crossing a line just saying his name. That only tells me you must have loved him deeply, and I suspect you haven't been with anyone since him. Because of that, I believe you will think of him sometimes in intimate situations, at least for a while. I don't know for sure, because I haven't ever been in love with anyone like that, but I'm trying to accept that you have. You have to give me a chance though, or we can't ever see if we have something special. If it will make you feel better, I'll tell you I haven't had sex in a really long time either. I'm nervous, not only because of just doing it again, but because it's with you. I've never wanted it so much, and it's also never felt so important to me before. What if I'm not—” Marek whipped his hand out and covered Colin's mouth. “Stop.” He couldn't stand to hear another word without crumbling. “Christ, Colin.” Marek's fingers shook as he let go and wiped his upper lip. “You're here to kill me. Aren't you?” Damn it. Marek had never dealt with anyone quite like Colin before. The combination of sweetness, uncertainty, and sheer balls the man possessed took Marek over more powerfully than the strongest alcohol. He was sexier than any one man had a right to be too. “Let me see it.” Colin's brow furrowed. “See what?” How quickly he forgot. “Take off the rest of your clothes.” Marek tensed, steeling himself not to come on the spot. Colin was right, though. He wanted this. And in this moment, Marek did not possess the strength to walk away. “Let me see the plug in your ass.” “Oh.” A blush stole over Colin's entire face. He could feel the burn. “Right.” As Colin stood before Marek, his insides flooded with fear-based adrenaline, buzzing him with another layer of nervous energy as he second- and third-guessed this aggressive move. He remembered standing in front of the bathroom mirror at the bungalow, watching himself, thinking this was such a good idea as he pushed the red toy all the way into his lubed passage, not stopping until only the circular base marked a bull's-eye on his ass. Now, standing in front of Marek, Colin knew he was no lothario. He had no idea how he'd even gotten his shoes and shirt off without visibly shaking all over and giving himself away. Why did I do this? He's going to laugh. Chewing on his cheek, Colin finished lowering his zipper and wiggled his jeans to the floor, leaving him in a pair of small, white briefs. His dick pushed half-hard against

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the fabric, as it had done since he had eased the butt plug into his rectum. Colin stiffened to full arousal as he imagined Marek removing the toy and replacing it with his cock. He chanced a glance at Marek but could not read the granite-hard lines mapping the man's shadowed face. If he laughs, at least he won't be sad. Turning away, Colin squeezed his eyes shut and shoved his underwear down his legs in one move, his channel clenching as tightly as needed to hold the plug in, purely on fear. Marek made a strangled noise behind him then uttered, “Holy shit. You weren't lying.” “No.” Colin chuckled, but it came out more like a trill. “Be hard for me to fake it when I undressed.” A rough, big palm caressed across his ass cheeks, and Colin trembled. Pressure settled against the base of the plug and nudged it against his filled hole, reviving the nerve endings in his chute. Colin locked his legs and breathed through the small movement. Heat snaked along the lines of Colin's backside, and a moment later, Marek's lips brushed a kiss over his bare hip. Colin opened his eyes, looked down, and saw Marek's knees spread on either side of his feet. God, he's so close. I'm afraid to move. All Colin could do was will himself to stand as still as possible and feel. Marek's mouth stayed right on Colin's skin, spreading warmth to every molecule in his body. “You like having something inside you?” he asked. He licked Colin's flesh and, at the same time, slowly withdrew the toy, screamed lines of pleasure over Colin's anal walls, and stretched his entrance with renewed thickness. “In your ass?” Marek left just the tip of the plug resting inside Colin's anus, tormenting him with the tease of more. “In your mouth?” The toy eased back in, and Colin whimpered. “Yes.” Unable to hold to his wish, Colin shook all over, and his rigid, blood-filled cock leaked drops of precum onto the floor. He lifted his hand from his side and ran his fingers through Marek's hair, needing a place to hold. Marek worked the silicone in Colin's ass with full, measured strokes, giving Colin what he wanted, but not what he needed. Colin clenched his fingers in Marek's hair. His head fell back, and his channel quivered with another full penetration of the plug. “I couldn't wait to go to sleep.” Colin exhaled, trying to regain control, but his mouth and heart raced at speeds he could not catch. “You stuffed my ass and mouth full with you every night in my dreams.” “Jesus.” Marek dragged his teeth over Colin's leg, marking his skin with angry lines of red as he spun Colin around. He looked up and flicked his tongue across the slit on Colin's cock. “Maybe it's time I said thank you for the gift.” He pushed Colin's prick

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up flat against his stomach and licked a line all the way up the underside, from root to tip, then took the head past his lips and sucked. Colin immediately went up in flames. “Ohhh shittt…” He stumbled backward and grabbed the banister, sinking his trimmed fingernails into the unforgiving wood with all of his might. Oh fuck. His cock had forgotten what a blowjob felt like. Every ounce of blood shot right to his penis, making Colin fucking hard and thick and barely able to think. He looked down at Marek, and he was so goddamned aroused his eyes hazed the image of Marek's lips wrapped around his dick. “Suck me,” Colin begged. Marek picked up the pace, twisting his lips and mouth all around Colin's erection and taking more of his length with every deep drag. “Oh yeah…” Colin bit his lip and pumped his hips into Marek's face. “Just like that.” Marek still held a hand over the plug in Colin's ass, and he circled it again, working the walls of Colin's channel into a frenzy. Between the mouth on his cock and the toy in his butt, Colin didn't know whether he was coming or going. He gyrated his entire body as if a thousand fingers danced over his bare skin, and he fought the sensation that his insides were going to implode. Too quickly, Colin tipped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. As if he knew, Marek yanked the plug out of Colin's passage and shoved his fingers inside, going deep once and then right for his kill spot. He wrapped his other hand around the base of Colin's cock in a vise-tight hold, rolled the head around in the wet cavern of his mouth with his tongue, and swiped the tips of two fingers over Colin's prostate, slamming Colin right into orgasm. Colin threw back his head, his spine bowed under the heightened torment, and he roared to the rafters while shooting line after line of cum deep into Marek's mouth. His chute contracted all around Marek's fingers in rippling waves, and every muscle in his body tensed with acute, nearly perfect pleasure. Before the final ebb receded, Colin knocked Marek's fingers out of his asshole, pulled his cock from between the man's lips, and dropped to his knees. His eyes found the spark of blue in Marek's, and the other man's labored breathing matched Colin's inability to return to a place of normal. Staring, almost doing combat without touching, they grabbed each other's faces in rough, painful holds, coming at each other like a couple of starved animals. Colin slashed his mouth over Marek's and kissed him with violence. He tasted blood, but he didn't know to which one of them it belonged. Marek licked and bit back, and Colin could taste the need and desperation in the other man's kiss, recognizing it as strongly as his own. Colin held Marek's head in the crushing clutch of his hands and pressed his open mouth all over the man's face, ending back at his mouth. “Fuck me,” Colin pleaded, his voice barely a scrape of sound. He tied himself to Marek in their mutual stare and lowered himself down to the floor, pulling Marek on top of him. His legs fell open naturally, and Marek immediately filled the empty space. “Fuck me now.” His chest paining him, Colin rubbed his palms over the planes of Marek's harsh face and petted his mess of hair. “Please.”

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His eyes burning bright, Marek nodded with a small, jerky move. He pushed his underwear down to his hips, freed his cock, and lined the thick head up with Colin's hole. Colin inhaled at first contact, and Marek pushed his penis inside. Marek dropped his gaze and looked down, watching himself withdraw and sink his cock deep into Colin's ass. “Ohh…Jesus, Jesus.” He shook his head and pumped his hips, filling Colin's channel again. “Hot…feels so goddamned tight.” Marek clenched his jaw and planted his hands on either side of Colin's torso, the move rolling the muscles in his arms and shoulders in a stunning display. Still staring between them, Marek started to thrust with faster, sure strokes, sliding wonderful friction all along Colin's flaming passage. Colin moaned at the shivery sensation marking his chute. Marek pulled out completely and speared Colin's open pucker again, pushing until he could go no farther. Shoving his hips up, Colin tried to take every centimeter of Marek's thick, hot length, groaning with a clawing need for more. Colin's hold slipped to Marek's shoulders and down his arms, but then he switched to under his own legs and drew them up to his chest, straining his thigh muscles with delight and opening his ass in a different way. Swearing, Marek shifted his body higher over Colin and bore down on his hole at a new angle. He brought his entire weight down on Colin with a wonderful crush and speared his prick deep in Colin's ass. “Oh, God, yes.” Frantic and nearly out of control, Colin hooked his arms under his knees and forced his legs to either side of his chest, somehow spreading himself even wider. His cock jammed hard into Marek's belly, firm with arousal once again. “Take me. Fucking make me feel it all over.” Marek put a bruising hold on Colin's jaw, locking him in a dark, wild stare as he pummeled Colin's chute with piston-fast strokes. Colin grunted with every shove of his back into the hard floor, but he reveled in the fierce fucking and did not dare blink or look away. His entire body shrieked with discomfort at the contortions he put himself in, his passage burned with this aggressive, renewed use, and Colin had never wanted anything more. Gritting his teeth, Colin turned his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of Marek's wrist, overwhelmed by tender emotions in the mix of this primal coupling. A strangled noise escaped Marek; he crushed his mouth down on Colin's, breathing with deep heaves. His entire body trembled, and in a split second, he came, spilling a gush of wet heat into Colin's ass. Oh fuck. Colin's cock jerked, and his balls tucked up tight as realization hit him. Marek did me bare. He shook, never having felt someone come inside him before. Knowing he should be terrified, instead, Colin pulsed all over in reaction and came himself, shooting his seed on Marek's stomach.

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Just as fast as they both reached orgasm, Marek pushed off Colin in a shot, making him wince at the quick pullout of cock from his ass. Marek turned, looking all around, as if he didn't recognize his own home. The first trickle of fear ran down Colin's spine. “Marek?” “Umm…” His eyes wide, the man looked lost, and Colin's heart seized with pain, worse than those first nights in his dreams. “I can't… I need to think…” Marek backed up to the stairs and held onto the railing like a lifeline on a sinking ship. “You know where everything is. Excuse me. I have to go.” He raced up the stairs, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. Running again. Rain poured, and the wind whipped up outside, gusting into the house with a wave of cold Colin hadn't felt two minutes ago. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stamping down the pain of rejection lancing through him, Colin pushed himself upright, even as every muscle in his body protested the move. He walked into the TV room then the computer room to shut the windows, careful of the areas of the floor slick with the spatter of rain. He quickly cleaned himself up in the downstairs bathroom and put on a pair of sweats from his duffel bag. After that, he grabbed the towels from under the sink and went about drying the wet floors in the front rooms. Marek might not care about this house, but Colin would not let it fall apart any more than it already had. He wasn't going anywhere. At least not tonight.

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Chapter Eleven Wind from the storm beat tree limbs against the side of the house, mimicking the distress of the man on the couch who tossed and turned, turmoil clearly ruling his sleep. Colin lay tangled in a blanket, perspiring, and as Marek stood in the doorway, staring, guilt slowly devoured him inside. I've hurt him so much already, in ways he doesn't even know, and now I've given him new reasons to fight demons in his sleep. Maybe it's best I leave him alone. For good. Still, rather than retreat to his bedroom entirely, Marek moved to the stairs and sat down about halfway up the steps, listening to the agitation in the slumbering man one room away. He would stay close to Colin for the simple, messy, dangerous fact that he could no longer keep away.

***** Colin glanced at the clock and silently cursed the time, but continued to push his mop across the kitchen floor. He cranked up the radio and kept a beat with the country song playing as he worked. His mother was going to kill him for staying later than usual to help with the cleaning, but his boss had a guy call in sick and needed help closing up the restaurant. Colin figured if he helped now, then maybe the next time Sal needed to hire another waiter, he'd promote Colin from bussing tables and give him a shot at the job. His mom might have to stay up past midnight to give him a ride home, but it was Friday, and she didn't have to work tomorrow. When Colin explained his position to her, she would understand. He probably should have just called, but the time he was released from work on the weekends was somewhat flexible anyway, and at the time Sal asked, Colin hadn't figured it would be long enough overtime that she would notice.

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“Hey, kid”—Sal pushed through the swinging door and walked into the kitchen, trash bags in hand—“take the trash out for me, and then you can go ahead and call your ride. Okay?” “You sure?” Colin asked. “I'm done mopping in here.” He ended by the side exit. After leaning the mop against the wall, he wiped his hands on his short-sleeve, white shirt. “I could do the front for you, if you want.” “Nope. Marta, Sierra, and I will take care of the rest.” Sal mentioned his wife and one of the servers. “I appreciate you staying and helping out. Take home what you want of that bread”—he pointed in the direction of a shelf with a half dozen wrapped loaves sitting on it—“and throw the rest away.” “Thanks. Got it.” Sal disappeared into the body of the restaurant again, and Colin gathered up the rest of the trash in the kitchen, then loaded it onto a small pallet he could use to drag everything in one trip to the Dumpster tucked away around back. He grabbed the keys off a hook by the door, slipped them in the pocket of his waist apron, and pushed the door open with his back. Hauling the pallet outside, Colin let the door swing closed. He used the light at the back of the building and the lamplights from the street to guide him over the grimy, uneven concrete of the alleyway. The stench of spoiling food had Colin wrinkling his nose and putting his back into the work, wanting to get this job done as quickly as possible. Geez, he hated doing the trash. It was his job at home too. A noise from behind broke the silence, sounding like shoes skidding on the gravelly ground. Colin barely registered the skitter of nervousness race up his spine, and then he heard, “There he is,” the thudding of feet hitting the concrete, and then, “That's him. Get him!” “Wha—” Colin turned and didn't get halfway around before a fist connected with his head, making him cry out with shooting pain as he rammed into the wall. Pain lanced through his skull, shoulder, and back where he hit the brick side of the building; his head snapped back with the momentum of the punch, cracking against the hard wall too. Glass shattering cut across the night, and suddenly the side light disappeared, throwing the back of the restaurant into near darkness. What the hell? Fear pushed his heart right up into his throat, but Colin didn't even get a chance to make a run for it or scream. In a shot, three guys in rubber Halloween masks, dark clothes, and gloves surrounded him, closing in fast. One of them yelled, “Fucking faggot!” and all three of them grabbed him at once and threw him to the ground, knocking the wind right out of him. Colin landed on his tailbone, and a sharp pain ran up his back and radiated through his body, stunning him into momentary paralysis. Right on top of that, booted feet flew in his direction, kicking him all over, rocking through him with blow after blow. He tried to roll over, but one of the men dropped to his knees and held Colin

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down, whispering with a ruthless drawl Colin couldn't identify, “Don't think you're getting away, you fucking queer. Not till we're good and ready to let you.” “Please…ahh!” The man holding him down clipped him one in the head hard enough to whip his face around, and then he held Colin's cheek into the ground and punched him again, spreading pain into his jaw and down his neck. Blood filled Colin's mouth with the next crack, but he could hardly wheeze through it and regain his breath under the relentless beating from the other two. He coughed up blood, but his throat filled again. God, it feels like I'm drowning. One of the others kept kicking Colin in the hip and thigh over and over again, and soon the wetness of blood seeped through his tan work pants and spread down his leg. Blows to his stomach, arms, and legs kept coming at him from the third person, and Colin blinked up in horror at the twisted faces of the masks, characters from slasher films, looking down on him with dead eyes as they brutalized his body. Another kick landed on his already agonized hip, and Colin tried to shout, but only a gurgle came out. A barrage of hate-filled names spewed from all three guys with such venom, Colin slipped into panic, certain he was going to die. Oh, God, help me. He took another punishing punch to his ribs from the third assailant, and for a moment could not breathe. Suddenly, the hands holding his shoulders, digging him into the concrete alleyway, released him. “Hold up. Hold up,” that first voice said. “Don't knock him out cold. I want him to feel this.” A clicking sound reverberated through the night louder than the cocking of a gun. Switchblade. Oh please. No. The punches to his arms and legs stopped. “Shit,” one of the others said, “you didn't say nothing about a knife.” Colin blinked, and the one in the Freddy Krueger mask backed away. “I ain't gonna kill him.” “Pussy.” That came from the one kicking his hip, in the Scream mask. “He ain't gonna die.” He stopped and traded places with the first, and now held Colin's shoulders. “It's just gonna hurt real bad. Slice him open like the rooting pig he is.” An ugly laugh muffled from under the rubber covering his face. “Go ahead.” Colin's shirt was torn open, and such fear attacked him he started to hyperventilate. “Ain't no running from what you are, fag boy,” the one with the knife, in the Jason Voorhees mask, said. “But after this, you'll think twice about doin' anything about it.” Without a belt on, Colin's pants rode low, exposing his lower stomach. “Please…” His plea gurgled through the blood in his mouth as he begged. Without even looking up, Jason sank the tip of the knife into Colin's belly, and white-hot pain ripped through him hot enough to set him aflame. Then, the knife moved through his belly, slicing his flesh; Colin screamed in agony, and with a surge of

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strength, rolled out of the hold on his shoulders in an effort to protect himself. The blade stayed in him though, and seared a cutting line all the way around his side and up his back. “Hey, kid!” A loud voice cracked across the night, and light from the restaurant's kitchen inched into the alley. “Your mom's on the phone. What's taking so long?” The three men let go of Colin at once, and one of them yelled, “Run, run, run!” They all took off as fast as they had shown up, thundering down the alley at a breakneck pace. “Hey, stop!” That was definitely Sal's voice above the radio. Colin rolled toward the kitchen door, moaning as his entire being shrieked in protest of the move. “Help me.” He sucked in a breath and choked on the blood in his throat. “Holy shit, Colin.” Sal dropped to Colin's side and pulled him onto his lap. “What the hell happened?” Colin blinked, searching, but everything was a hazy blur. He thought Sal held him, but there were so many faces floating above him, and none of them looked clear, so he couldn't be sure. He reached up, and touched something solid. “Help me.” He coughed, and his entire body cried out with suffering. “Goddamnit, hold on. Marta! Sierra!” Sal bellowed the names at the top of his lungs. “Call nine one one. Bring some tablecloths, dishtowels…something! Colin is bleeding!” He lowered Colin back to the ground and gripped his hand. “Be strong. Help is coming.” “'Kay.” Everything in his line of sight dwindled, and Colin's world went black.

***** Colin jerked awake and battled the blanket tangling his legs, throwing it off his body as if it were one of his assailants. Where am I? Blinking, he looked around, his heart racing until he recognized Marek's home, and the events of the last few days caught up to him. I'm in Fiji, not behind Gino's back in Henderson, bleeding onto the ground. Even as Colin recognized his surroundings, his insides still buzzed with residual nerves. God, he hadn't had such a vivid dream of his assault in years, and it left him trembling. He didn't know why it had bubbled to the surface with such detail once again. It's all the emotions stirred up in these last few days. Has to be. Colin wasn't used to vulnerability with a partner, and that had to be what was dredging up old fears and pain. With the adrenaline racing through, he wasn't sure he liked dealing with the results that being intimate with Marek stirred in him right now. Nothing in his life, other than the attack, had ever left Colin feeling so powerless and uncertain as Marek's unpredictable behavior, and his ever-changing fits and starts about what he wanted. Even as Colin thought about the nightmare this lack of stability with Marek roused in him, he knew he wouldn't give up what had happened with him on the beach or the

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foyer floor. He wouldn't dare lose any of his time with the other man in order to restore the calm he normally craved. Colin shivered again. True intimacy. Scary concept. He stretched out on the couch, unable to make his mind and body relax. It was quiet outside now, the storm having passed from the time Colin fell asleep to when the nightmare ripped him awake. He had fallen asleep earlier to the sound of Marek pacing in his bedroom, but it was silent now, inside and out. Colin sighed and stared out the window in the darkened TV room, still exhausted but unable to close his eyes. Damn, that dream had sapped him more completely than his toughest workout. Resigning himself to a long night, Colin settled in, then started when Marek's long shadow reached across the TV room floor, announcing his presence. Oh fuck; he came out of hiding. Colin held his breath when everything in him wanted to run to Marek. Instead, he forced himself to remain in place and wait. An agonized, tension-filled few minutes sat heavy in the air between them, but eventually Marek crossed the room and took a seat in the recliner, half in dark and half in light but directly in Colin's line of sight. He wore a pair of his familiar khaki cargo pants, and nothing else. With his feet planted firmly on the floor, and his hands wrapped around the armrests of the chair, Marek blurted, “I didn't wear protection.” Colin exhaled and started breathing again. “No, you didn't.” He had pilfered a condom and lube packet from Tom's toiletry kit back at the bungalow, but in the heat of the moment, grabbing it never even crossed his mind. They both remained tucked in the front pocket of his discarded jeans. “I didn't ask, and you didn't volunteer.” Marek's body remained stalwart, but his gaze dropped down to his lap. “I've been with one man, one time, a different man, twice, and I was with Payton for a year. I used a rubber with the first two men, at my insistence, and upfront Payton always said he would request one. I accommodated him. I didn't mind.” Marek cleared his throat and looked up, finding Colin in the darkness. “I don't have any here at the house and don't know if on the floor there I could have stopped with you.” Colin's heart tripped, and his stomach flip-flopped, revving up his nerves. It always felt like he stripped himself naked when he talked about his sex life, as if he gave up a piece of his power and control, but once again this man pushed him to places he'd never been before. “I've only been with two people and always used condoms with both. I did go out with three other men long enough that I traded blowjobs with them, but they both fizzled out before I trusted them enough for sex.” God, don't think I'm a loser. “Neither of my relationships reached a one-year point.” He opened his mouth, prepared to spill reasons for his break-ups but zipped his lip instead. He doesn't need to know everything at once. A little bit at a time. Colin shifted to a seated position and drew his legs to his chest. “It's funny; I only met you again a few days ago, but inside I feel like I've been with you for much longer. That's probably why, in a practical sense, I

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thought to steal a condom from my friend Tom, but when it came down to it, it never occurred to me to use it.” Looking straight ahead, his body still in that locked position, Marek nodded. “With your dreams, that makes sense.” A small smile escaped Colin. “Then we're good with what happened.” He went right back to worrying his cheek. “Is that what we're saying?” Marek nodded again, still without looking at Colin. “Yeah, I think so. That's what I'm saying.” “Me too.” Quiet took them over once again. Colin wrapped his arms tightly around his legs, fighting to contain his need to push more information out of Marek. His fingers itched to shake the man to see what would fall out, and the rest of his body wanted to crawl onto Marek's lap and hope strong arms would embrace him. He needed them, after his dream. Abruptly, Marek turned, looking to Colin, and his eyes glittered in the shadows. “You were right, you know.” His voice was a little rough. “I haven't been with anyone, in any way, since Payton died.” Colin breathed a silent sigh of success. “Tell me about him.” Marek shifted his focus, to his right, and stared at the blank TV screen. “I lost Payton two and a half years ago. He went out one night to have a few drinks with a friend, and they ended up at a gay bar. He asked me to go with them, like he always did, and I said no, like I always did. Pay didn't mind, but he always tried.” Marek stopped for a moment, and his throat convulsed. “Anyway, Pay's friend hooks up with someone, and Pay tells him—Brian—he's going to have one more drink and then head home. These other two guys overhear him, say they're new in town, and they offer to buy Pay his drink. Pay had gotten up early for work that day, and after agreeing and having a soda with the guys, decides to go home. He leaves Brian with his pickup, and the two new guys say they're heading out too. But instead of going to their car, they followed Pay to his and proceeded to beat the crap out of him, not stopping until his entire body was bloodied and broken.” Marek stopped again, and this time rubbed a hand over his face before going on. “Police say they planned it; they were from outside Pittsburgh and saw something on TV about gay rights that got them fired up enough to head into the city to kill a fag. Pay was small, and when it became clear he would leave the bar alone, he became their perfect target. They went into that bar knowing what they were going to do right from the start. They planned it. They fucking planned to kill a man that night. And they did.” Marek's hands moved to his knees, and he flexed and clenched his fingers, in between scraping his palms on his pants. He blinked, and blinked, and blinked. “They were successful. Payton died in that parking lot, without me.” Colin closed his eyes, shuddering as he empathetically experienced the final moments of Payton's life. With the nightmare of his own attack still so fresh in his mind,

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he swore he could feel the blows hitting his body, and automatically tensed to ward off a punch, suffering right along with Payton. Swallowing, Colin forced down tears and whispered, “I am so sorry for your loss.” Shaking his head, Marek swiped a hand across his eyes. “I can never give Payton enough 'I'm sorry's' if I say it every day until I die. I was never with him; not out in public.” Anger fueled Marek's voice. “I wasn't open, in any way, barely even to a secret relationship, even though I fell for Pay pretty much from the second we met.” “How did you meet?” Marek chuckled, a real laugh, but still full of grit. “It's so awful. You'll laugh.” The sound of humor from Marek sparked an ember of warmth in the cold blanketing Colin. “That's okay,” he said. “Tell me anyway.” “It's such a porn movie cliché.” Sliding Colin a glance, a full smile actually lit Marek's face. “We saw each other at the grocery store, and within five minutes of glancing at each other, he made me hard and I went to the bathroom. He followed, pushed me into a stall, and gave me a blowjob. Neither of us said a word. Couple of weeks later, we cross paths in the same store, and it happened again. Only this time, he tells me he knows I won't believe him, but he's never gone down on a complete stranger in his life once, let alone twice, except with me. I told him I did believe him because I'd never gone to a bathroom and let anyone suck me off before him. He introduced himself, and I did too. He asked me out, and pretty quickly realized by my reaction I wasn't out of the closet.” The brief moment of light shimmering inside Marek diminished, and he returned to the statue of before. “Payton said he didn't mind, that everybody has to come to terms in their own time and their own way. We started seeing each other in secret, mostly late at night, to start. Eventually he came to my place more and more often. In hindsight I'm sure I wasn't fooling anybody, at least not the people in my building, but I still couldn't just come out and let people see I was gay.” “It's hard to do. Scary.” Marek slammed his hand into the armrest, cracking a sharp noise into the air. “It's so fucking stupid, you know.” He turned and put a full, all-out stare on Colin, slamming Colin in the gut with the volatile emotion living on his face. “I was so damn scared and worried about how people would treat me, how my life would change, always wondering what people would be whispering behind my back when I walked into a room, that the thought of coming out paralyzed me. In the end, I did the most damaging thing of all. I refused to give this person I loved the respect he deserved by going out in public with him and not being embarrassed if people made the correct assumption that we were fucking each other. I couldn't protect him”—Marek's face hardened and he snarled—“because I was too fucking busy hiding myself away. “Pay was in incredible shape, but like I said, he was compact and wiry. There was no way he could have defended himself against those bastards who attacked him. But if I'd just not been so damned ashamed, and had been in that bar having a few drinks with him, they never would have picked him as their target.” Half of Marek's face

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shone with the shaft of light from the hallway, and every molecule visible to the naked eye was drenched in suffering. “If I had been there, Payton would still be alive. Only he's not, for the son-of-a-bitch, dumb-ass reason that I couldn't bear anyone knowing I like to fuck other men.” Feeling as if he were bleeding inside with each layer of guilt Marek confessed, Colin bolted to the man and sat down on the coffee table, facing him. He wanted to touch but was afraid of Marek's reaction. “Oh, Marek, no. Baby, you need to get off that road right now. It is such a dangerous one to travel. You can't know what might or might not have gone down, had you been with Payton. I can't imagine he would want you playing that 'what if' game of roulette. Not that I knew him, but you don't wish that hell on someone you truly love, no matter the circumstances.” Leaning forward on his elbows, Marek clasped his hands in front of his mouth. “I never told him I loved him, you know. I wanted to, but it seemed ridiculous, and I couldn't make myself say it, so I just told myself the words didn't matter, that he must just automatically know I felt it, because I did.” Just a hint of the dreams Colin had lived with over the last few years rushed through him, drawing a confidence to his tone. “Your emotions seem to have a way of sinking into the people around you, Marek. Trust me on that.” Colin could very well be the one person in the world who knew that truth as well as Payton. “I'm sure Payton knew how you felt.” “After he died, everyone knew. I had no ability to hide my grief or what I felt for him from anybody. It's cold comfort, but Payton constantly assured me I would come out in my own time, and I would know when to do it. He was right.” Marek pulled back, and a little smile edged up the corner of his lip. “Up in heaven, that probably makes him happy. He liked when I had to concede he was correct and I wasn't.” Colin chuckled. He sat up straighter, arching a brow as some of Marek's burden lifted off his shoulders. “You probably don't admit defeat very often. I bet that was why.” “Yeah.” As quickly as the softness had entered Marek, it left him, and he lifted a chilling stare on Colin. Colin rubbed the goose bumps popping up on his bare arms. “What is it?” “You know the horror he suffered in that parking lot,” Marek said, his voice raw. “You know what Payton lived through in the end, on that ground, being beaten to death. He was terrified and in terrible pain. Wasn't he?” “No.” Colin shook his head vehemently. Goddamnit, no. “You don't want to do that to yourself.” Marek lunged and grabbed Colin's arms, digging his fingers into flesh and muscle. “You say you want to help me. Tell me this.” Colin grabbed Marek's face and looked into his eyes, fighting to understand. “How will this help you?”

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“I need to know. I should share his burden. I owe it to him.” Marek looked like someone tormented him, but still he did not look away or let go. “He must have been so scared. I know he was.” Marek's wet blue eyes and bruising hold attacked Colin on multiple levels. “Tell me.” “Yes.” Please, God, let this be the right thing to do. Colin squeezed his eyes shut and breathed, searching for some semblance of order among chaos before he faced Marek again. “Yes, okay? Yes. The night I was beaten and knifed was the most awful, frightening time in my life. I never felt so alone and like nobody would ever hear the screams in my head for help.” Colin jerked, unable to keep the reaction at bay. He grabbed his stomach, clutching it, as he hadn't been able to do the night one of his assailants cut him open. “I remember terrible pain, but I remember the fear more. Recovering afterward, physically anyway, I think hurt more than the attack itself, but in that alley, I was terrified in a way I've never come even close to knowing again.” “I thought so.” Marek let go and dragged Colin's hand off his face. “Thank you for telling me. Christ.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Colin's temple, holding his mouth there for a prolonged beat of time. He whispered, “I'm so sorry,” got up, and ran out of the room. Colin sat in a stupor as Marek sprinted away, leaving him again. His muscles ached with tension after suffering the recurrence of the dream and then reliving the emotions that gripped him during it, but righteous fire got him to his feet. You're not running. Not this time. Not after what we just shared. With every step he took, Colin's feet felt melded to the floor, making each movement a chore. Swirls of tingling spiraled up his legs and into his arms, crippling him. He tilted forward, reaching for the wall to help hold him upright. As soon as his hand hit, shards of overwhelming emotional pain knifed into his palm and up his arm, infecting his bloodstream and slamming him into the door frame. Emotions that somehow became abstract pictures assaulted Colin's mind; enormous slashes of vivid red became drenched in black, snuffing out life itself. Colin gasped and tried to move, but the pictures created in vibrant crimson only to be doused out in soot kept flashing in front of his eyes, forcing him to see. Something powerful and full of gripping strength attacked Colin's body, locking him in place like fingers clawing up from the floor and wrapping around his ankles, holding him prisoner. Wordless shrieks filled his head, drowning out everything else but the screams. Colin stumbled under the onslaught, and his back made full contact with the house. A language without words, one full of loss and need, became clear to Colin in a way he could feel deep in his marrow, and he finally understood. What you're doing to this place, Marek, and to me. Pushing away from the wall, Colin tried to shut out the unbearable hurt snaking its way into his very being. Oh God. He begged without a voice. Please stop. The house wouldn't let go of him, and Colin cried out in shared grief and pain as he hit the floor.

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The shout from Colin sliced a chill through Marek, and the crash got his heart racing and him tearing back down the stairs. “Colin!” Marek screeched to a halt as he spotted Colin curled on the floor. “Shit.” He found his legs again, scrambled to Colin's side, and dropped to his knees. Slipping his hand around Colin's neck, Marek gently tilted his face up from the floor. “It's you.” Colin blinked, revealing such brightness in his eyes it stole Marek's breath. “And this.” He darted his gaze all around the house and scraped his hand across the wall. “Jesus Christ.” Marek pulled Colin to a sitting position and ran his hands all over the man, checking for damage. He didn't have the skills to get into the guy's head. “What the hell happened to you?” Colin reached out and brushed his fingers over Marek's heart. “You have to stop being so sad.” He climbed on Marek's lap and buried his face in the crook of his neck. “We can't take it anymore.” Strong arms squeezed around Marek's shoulders, and Colin burrowed in closer. “Please.” His voice was muffled, and his words didn't make any sense, but the desperation seeped into Marek's very flesh. “Please. Please.” Marek gathered Colin in close and rubbed his palm up and down the length of his quivering back. “Shh, shh. It's all right. Just breathe.” Marek pressed soft kisses to Colin's shoulder and nape. “Everything is going to be all right. I'm taking you up to my bedroom. Okay?” Colin nodded against Marek's neck and held on even tighter. “Okay,” Marek said gently, trying his best to soothe. Shifting to his knees, Marek curled one arm around Colin's back and the other under his legs. He shoved to his feet, his back holding strong even with such a big man in his arms. In this moment, Marek's burden somehow felt precious and fragile, even though Colin was covered in probably close to two hundred pounds of sinewy muscle. Marek climbed the stairs at a steady pace, one at a time, all the while pressing his lips into Colin's hair and whispering words that he would make everything better. Marek didn't know how in the hell he planned to keep that promise; he was hardly a success at keeping his own life held together. He would try though. He couldn't bear to see and feel this level of hurt in Colin ever again. Marek entered his bedroom and set Colin on his feet beside the bed, holding his elbows until Colin got his footing back. “Just hold there for a second.” Marek peeled back the lightweight comforter and folded it out of the way. “All right.” He helped ease Colin down onto the mattress. “In you go.” A brisk, after-storm breeze entered the room through the open window and brushed a slight chill across Marek's bare back. He immediately grabbed the comforter again, asking, “Do you want the cover?” Colin shook his head. He rolled onto his back and lifted a hand out to Marek. “Make love to me.” His gaze burned past the color of emeralds. “I want you.”

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The fabric slipped out of Marek's hand, falling in a pillow of white to the floor. The man was beautiful, but fear of his strange state stalled Marek in place. “Are you sure?” “It's okay.” A husky timbre added a new layer to Colin's voice, but his eyes were definitely clear now. “I know where I am. I'll remember having asked you in the morning.” Relief washed through Marek as powerful as desire, and both had him giving in to the pull of Colin's offer. Taking just a second, without looking away, Marek grabbed a bottle of lube from his nightstand drawer and tossed it on the bed. Colin reached out and rubbed Marek's leg, just a sweet little nothing touch, and it made Marek half hard and his testicles swell, as if his body couldn't help creating seed for this man. “The power you don't even know you have.” Marek braced his hand on the bed and came down on top of Colin, sliding one leg to rest in between both of the other man's. He lowered his head but paused with his mouth less than an inch away from Colin's. He stopped, and looked into Colin's eyes. “You scared me.” The accusation— fear—slipped out of Marek without censure. Colin looked up, his eyes so big and sincere. He covered his hand over Marek's heart, as if he could hold in the emotion. “I didn't mean to.” “I know.” Marek's voice caught, but he couldn't help it. “Try not to do it again.” He dipped down and captured Colin with a clinging kiss before he confessed anything more. Colin melted beneath Marek, and Marek sank all the way down into the solid presence beneath him, settling his weight over every square inch of hard, male body. It had been so long since he shared closeness with anyone that the fuel of aggression immediately pumped hot inside him, demanding he take charge and dominate. Right then, Colin sighed and trembled, reminding Marek of the vulnerability he'd so recently felt in the man he carried to his bed. Marek pulled back from taking over Colin's mouth and brushed his lips across his jaw, cheek, and into his hair instead, ending at the man's ear. “Just relax.” He nipped the lobe and tugged. “Let me do everything.” Colin only dug his fingers into Marek harder. Kissing his way down Colin's neck, Marek felt the tension and stopped. “What is it?” Colin exhaled, ruffling the hairs on top of Marek's head. “I'm not used to letting go.” His hands let up the grip on Marek's shoulders, though, and slid down to his biceps. Marek smiled against Colin's shoulder, suppressing a chuckle. “I believe you.” He figured Colin's relentless pursuit for answers to his dreams was probably a good indicator for the rest of his personality. “Give it a go anyway.” He nudged his groin

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against the bulge already forming in Colin's sweats, biting down a moan of pleasure as his own cock stiffened even more in response. “I'll make it good.” The man shook a little bit again but let his hands fall to the bed. “Okay.” He folded one leg up into a butterfly position and rolled his hips into Marek's crotch. “God.” A low noise rumbled through his whole body. “I want to feel you inside me again.” Still pushing for a little bit of control. “I'll get there soon enough.” Marek bit Colin's collarbone and dragged his mouth across his skin, tasting once more. The smell of rain and the salty taste of spray from the ocean still lingered, infecting Marek's senses and tingling on his tongue. Closing his eyes, he let Colin's body warm his sensitized lips as he teased his way down the man's chest, licking, enjoying, and blindly searching for a nipple. His chin grazed against the tiny, hardened protrusion, and when it did, Colin inhaled at first touch. Oh yeah. Dipping down, Marek opened wide and latched onto the textured circle of skin, swirled his tongue over it, and took the whole area into his mouth. Marek suckled, and Colin bucked, jamming his lower body right up off the bed. Colin tilted his head back into the pillow and tunneled his hands into Marek's hair, holding Marek down on his chest. “Mmm…” He rubbed his straining cock into Marek's stomach, burning his shape into Marek's skin. “More.” Colin guided Marek across the span of his chest until Marek's lips found and tugged on his other nipple. “Yeah…bite it.” Growing more aroused with every verbal and physical command, Marek sank his teeth into Colin's chest and swiped the flat of his tongue across the man's flesh, all the while wondering if, when he finished, his teeth marks would linger. Marek bit again, telling himself he did it because Colin wanted it, but deep down he knew something primal in him craved evidence on this body tomorrow of what they did tonight. “Oh fuck, that's good.” Colin moaned and pushed Marek's hand to his neglected nipple, closing Marek's fingers around him. “Keep going. Don't stop.” My little director. The thought popped into Marek's head unbidden, scaring him with another layer of possession. There wasn't anything little about Colin, and Marek didn't have him, no matter the sex they were having and Colin's dreams. With the unspoken betrayal between us, I never will. Marek had started this seduction wanting to go slow, to give Colin something gentle to soothe his earlier upset. But fear of discovery ate at his conscience and did battle with every other piece of his mind and body that needed to be close to Colin, to absorb his heat and life. Marek ripped Colin's arms off him and pinned them to the bed. Where before he intended to linger, now Marek licked straight down the centerline of Colin's stomach to his sweatpants and shoved his face in the man's crotch, inhaling deeply, shooting him the rest of the way to a consuming desire to fuck. Yanking Colin's sweats down his legs and off his body, Marek nearly came undone just gazing upon the sight before his eyes. He enjoyed a repeat feast of golden skin, lightly haired legs, flat stomach, wide chest, sleekly constructed arms, and a long,

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beautiful cock that bowed upward from a thatch of dark hair. “You have the most amazing body.” Staring at Colin, Marek unzipped his own pants and pushed them down to his knees, shifting from one side to the other to get them the rest of the way off, leaving him nude. “My legs go weak just looking at you.” Colin ran his hand down Marek's stomach to his cock, and Marek sucked in his breath, feeling the slight contact all the way down to his toes. Looking up, Marek watched a little smile turn the edge of Colin's mouth. “Your perfection makes me nervous.” His fingers drifted off Marek's erection and onto his own as red slashed across his cheeks. “But excited too.” “Not even close to perfect.” Marek couldn't look Colin in the eyes, not without spilling every secret in his soul. He grabbed Colin's hips and rolled him over in a rush, needing his ass. “I wish I was.” Marek licked two fingers and pressed the heel of his other hand to one of Colin's ass cheeks, holding the taut flesh aside and revealing the tightly shut hole. “For you.” The words slipped out just as Marek rubbed his digits over Colin's rosy pucker. He barely let Colin become accustomed to the contact and then forced one finger through the resistance of the powerful little muscle to the other side. Colin gasped at the invasion, and his steaming, damp channel rippled all up and down Marek's finger. Needing his own oblivion before he lost his mind, Marek quickly pushed a second finger in and buried them both in Colin's ass as far as they would go. Colin's passage squeezed tightly all around Marek's digits, searing his skin. “Oh, God.” Colin groaned and pushed the side of his face into the pillow, but he bumped his buttocks upward, wiggling himself back on the repeated slide of Marek's fingers into his ass. Marek grew painfully erect, and with every second he watched himself fingerfuck Colin in the ass, he only got harder. “Do you need more than a couple fingers and lube to let my cock inside?” His voice was rough, his prick projected straight out, heavy, thickly veined, and dark with blood. Withdrawing his fingers, Marek couldn't wait and slicked up his cock with lube. Fuck, I need to take this man again. He pushed Colin's legs wider apart and lay down between his spread thighs. “Tell me now if you do.” “No. I want it.” Colin's voice sounded as stripped bare as Marek felt. “Fuck me, Marek.” Colin even reached back and held himself open, offering his reddened bud. “Now.” Jesus fuck. Marek held himself upright with one hand planted on the bed. His other shook a little as he wrapped it around the base of his prick and guided himself to Colin's asshole. With one strong push, Marek broke through and buried his cock inside Colin's ass. Colin's hands slipped away from his buttocks and spread wide across the bed. “Ohhh…” He convulsed at first full penetration, and his rectum closed in a suffocating hold around Marek's dick.

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White fire burned a blaze right through the length of Marek's body, starting and ending in the blinding pleasure found in Colin's hot, snug ass. Needing more connection, more touching, more ties, Marek covered Colin's arms with his and tucked them, tangled together, under the other man's body, sandwiched between the bed and his chest. Marek held Colin fused to him in the trap of his arms, covered him completely, and rocked forward with force, driving his cock deep into the man's scorching channel. Colin cried out and dug his fingers into Marek's hands, begging for more. Marek held him tighter, pounding his hips in an unforgiving pace and fury, spiraling to a place of unparalleled need. He took Colin's passage in fast, rough slides, and he bit and licked the man's head, uncaring that he got a mouthful of hair. He would take anything, before it became too late; he delved down to the curve of Colin's neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent. The body beneath him was a solid wall of straining muscles, heaving for every breath. Colin struggled to push his ass up to receive every thrust of Marek's cock. All of it combined to attack Marek's discipline and will and had his balls pulling up hard with the need to come. Turning his head on the pillow, Colin brushed his cheek against Marek's. “So good.” His voice was breathless but full of want and lust. “You feel so good.” His words snaked into Marek and shoved him, full body, toward coming. Marek bit his lip, drawing blood as he tried to stave off release. “No. Fuck. Fuck.” He slammed into Colin's chute one more time, tucking into the farthest reaches, and locked his body completely still, fighting the inevitable. “Too fast.” Colin untangled one of his hands and delved it into Marek's hair, holding their faces close. He pressed his mouth to Marek's jaw. “Want it. Give it to me.” He flicked his tongue against the edge of Marek's lips. That one small motion triggered the end. Marek groaned low and needful; his cock swelled almost unbearably and pulsed, unloading jet after jet of semen into the tight confines of Colin's ass. Colin jerked, but his channel didn't contract on Marek's cock, so he knew the other man hadn't yet come. Marek shifted them to their sides in a rush and slipped one hand down Colin's abdomen, while still keeping himself embedded in his body. He took Colin's erection in hand and fisted his velvety-hard length in tight, fast strokes, to Colin's moaning delight. Colin tilted his head back on Marek's shoulder and pumped his prick through the snug grip of Marek's fingers, searching for his orgasm. His hand slid down and back, taking hold of Marek's thigh in a crushing grip that only spurred Marek to jerk Colin off harder. He slipped his other hand into the mix and tormented the head of Colin's cock while continuing to stroke the length with his other. He teased the wide slit cutting across the tip of the shaft, slipping just the edge of his short fingernail into the fold. The response was immediate. Colin's eyes flew open, and his mouth gaped with a choking noise. His entire body went rigid in a straight line, and as he came, he shot one long arc of cum right over the edge of the bed where it splashed on the floor. For a

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moment, he hung strung tight and then went lax, cushioning himself on the front of Marek's body. At the same time, his lips parted with, “We need—” Marek covered Colin's mouth. “Just get some rest for now.” He let his hand slide down Colin's arm and wrapped it around his waist. “Everything else can wait until the morning.” “You're right.” Colin covered Marek's hand on his stomach and snuggled back into complete contact. “It's late, and we're both tired. It'll hold.” Marek held his new lover close, not closing his eyes until he felt Colin's breathing soften and knew he was asleep.

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Chapter Twelve Marek stretched his arms and legs across his bed, yawned, and immediately knew something wasn't right when he didn't bump into another body. No Colin. How do I already know, after one night, that he should be here with me? Shifting up against the headboard, Marek rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawning again as he spotted Colin across the room. More accurately, Colin's naked backside. The man stood facing the wall and had the flat of his hand, fingers spread wide apart, against the plaster. Marek scratched through the new growth covering his jaw, studying his bedmate as worry about Colin's state of mind crept up on him again. Colin broke the silence without turning around. “Morning.” He shifted some, dragging his fingers over the wall. “Did you sleep well?” Huh. Marek sat up straighter, shocked that no exhaustion lingered in him right now. “Good morning. I feel very rested. Thank you.” He tilted his head and scrunched his brow, following Colin with his eyes as he continued to feel up the bedroom wall. “What are you doing?” Finally turning, Colin lifted his gaze to Marek's. His eyes were clear, and Marek started breathing easier. Thank goodness. He did not need a repeat scare of last night. Offering a sweet smile, Colin said, “I'm deciding whether I should tell you something crazy.” That got a chuckle out of Marek. He settled in and crossed his arms against his chest. “Now why should you start worrying about that now?” “Fair point.” The burn of a blush started at Colin's chest and worked its way up to his hairline. “Probably should have thought a bit more about that earlier, huh?” Marek's heart hammered with ridiculous giddiness. Colin was so damned cute; he could not possibly want the man any more than he already did. “Don't worry about it.

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Go ahead, sweetness,” he said. “I shut you down last night. Say whatever you want now.” Grinning, Colin grew even redder, but his eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning. “I like that.” Marek knew just what Colin meant. “You called me baby last night. I liked hearing that too.” He drew the rumpled sheet up to his waist, determined to listen and to ignore his morning erection. “Now go ahead and get to what you wanted to say.” Putting himself to pacing across the foot of the bed, Colin nodded. “Okay. Well, I've gone through a lot of ideas about why I started having dreams about this house and the red door and you. I want an answer. I don't like unsolved mysteries, and I don't like things I can't understand. I've been accused of desiring…control”—he rubbed his hands on his legs, making Marek wonder if he was sweating over sharing this information— “and I suppose that's not entirely untrue.” Marek bit his cheek so he didn't laugh. “You're not admitting anything I haven't figured out about you on my own.” Colin pursed his lips and shot Marek a little glare. “Then you figured it out a hell of a lot faster than the other guys I've been intimate with.” Marek raised a brow right back. “I'll consider that a compliment.” “If you want it to be. Those other men in my life…” Colin paused, and his jaw clenched. “When they really saw who I was every day, they decided they would be better off with someone more relaxed than I am.” What Marek didn't want to do was sit there, look at Colin, and think about him with other men. His hard-on no longer an issue, he raised his knee and rested his elbow on it, watching as Colin worried a hole through his lip. “All right. But that's not what you started out wanting to tell me,” he prompted. “You're getting off track.” “Right. Sorry.” Colin went back to walking the length of the bed. “Solving my dreams. Okay, so when I saw Payton's name on the greenhouse and figured out the connection you must have shared, for a day or two I wondered if Payton might have sneaked into my subconscious and somehow guided me here to you.” “No.” Marek shook his head as he tracked Colin. “It's not Pay. I've thought of that. I would feel him, and I don't.” Colin shifted his attention to Marek again, and held it. “Yeah, I don't think it's Payton anymore either.” The hairs on Marek's arms stood on end, and his heart started to kick up with speed. “So what do you think?” Circling the bed until he stood right next to where Marek sat, Colin lowered himself and kneeled on the floor. He looked up, unwavering, and Marek's fear grew. “I think it's you,” Colin said softly. “And this house. Specifically, what you're doing to this house.”

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Marek reared, and his head spun like on a Tilt-A-Whirl. “What the hell does that mean? I'm not doing anything to this house.” “I think you are, even though you surely don't mean to. I think you're hurting it.” He snorted. “That's ridiculous.” “Hear me out.” Colin crawled up on the bed and grabbed Marek's legs, imploring him with his touch. “I think your pain and grief over Payton's death, and your guilt over not being there with him when he was attacked, is eating at you so much the house is somehow absorbing it and making it its own.” Marek shuffled across the bed out of Colin's reach, needing space. “That's crazy talk.” He felt like insanity touched him just hearing Colin's outrageous theory. “Maybe it is.” Colin followed with his stare, and everything about him was open and earnest in every way. “But that doesn't mean it's not true. In my dreams, when I put my hands on the red door, it was always warm with life. And when I touched it, that was when you would appear. When I walked through this place in reality, I could feel its neglect like it was alive and sad. That first day, I touched the door frame to your bedroom, and I saw you masturbating on this bed, as clear as day. I've felt vibrations that I cannot explain. I think this house somehow has a pulse, a soul; I don't know how. Stewart built it with such love for Beatrice, and she never wanted to leave it. Maybe she could feel him here, just as much as not wanting to believe he was dead. Maybe they loved each other so much it somehow leaked into the floors and walls. Everything is energy in some form or another. Why can't those energies get their wires crossed sometimes and meld together? Why can't it be true?” “Because…because it doesn't make any sense, that's why.” Marek jumped out of bed and picked up the pacing Colin had left off. He threw Colin a pointed look as he did it. “Houses are not alive, Colin. They don't feel pain. See?” He strode across the floor and rubbed his hands all over the dark frame circling the window. “I touch it all the time and don't feel anything. Look? My feet are bare, and I'm touching the hardwood. I feel no vibrations. Nothing. Besides”—he threw his hands up to his sides— “I don't even have a red door on the house for you to see in your dreams.” Colin leaped off the bed and raced to Marek, taking both of his hands in a firm hold. “But the house did have one before you moved in; even you conceded that. Which is more proof that it's more than just you pulling me to this place. The house is somehow lending elements of itself to the dreams.” The red door is entirely something from my past. You just don't remember. “That's not tr—” Marek zipped his lip. Guilt resurged, plaguing him right where he stood. I can't think about one of the nicest moments in my life without reliving one of the worst that came right after. I don't ever want you to know. Taking a seat on the windowsill, Marek lifted one of Colin's hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm. Christ. I need this human connection. Even just for a little while. He tried to smile, but it didn't feel like he entirely succeeded. “I know you think you've stumbled onto something about this house; I just don't think the

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conclusions you're drawing are correct.” There. He gave the truth. Without the details. “I'm sorry.” Colin looked like Marek slapped him. He pulled away and backed up until he sank down on the edge of the bed. Some of the passion left his eyes, but once again, steel held his back up stiff. “There isn't any other way it makes sense that I could have dreamed about this place, to the detail, without ever having seen it.” He spoke each word clearly and with deliberation. “One of the most puzzling things in my dreams was the pull I felt to this house, just as much as to the man living inside it. It doesn't make sense that even though I didn't know who you were, I already knew your pain and loss before I ever saw your face and heard your story. If you say it's not possible for this house to absorb your energy and somehow send signals of both you and it to me, then you're saying it's not possible for me to have had those dreams at all. And I know I have. You know I have.” Pain lanced through Marek, and he rushed to Colin. He cupped his hand around Colin's neck and tilted his face up. “I do believe you about your dreams.” Sliding his knee on the bed, Marek leaned down and pressed his lips against Colin's forehead, lingering, absorbing his life force. “Please believe that.” Colin grasped Marek's wrist, looking up as he eased back a bit. “Then how can you discount the rest so easily? You saw what happened to me last night.” “Yes, I did.” Marek's hand flexed around Colin's nape and he scraped a hard, fast kiss against those upturned lips, needing to feel Colin in another way. “Your confusion scared the crap out of me.” Shaking his head, Colin said, “I wasn't confused.” His gaze, sharp and clear, pinpointed right on Marek. “As soon as I got up from that coffee table, my feet felt tied to the floor. The heaviness crept up into the rest of my body. I reached out to grab the wall because I thought I was going to fall, and it was like this big ball of coiling, intense emotions slammed right into me and exploded inside me. It was full of anger, rage, grief, love, fear, guilt… It overwhelmed me and knocked me right to the floor.” Marek wiped his hand over his mouth, completely caught up in Colin's tale. “Shit.” He dropped to sit next to Colin on the bed. Colin turned his head and lifted a brow in Marek's direction. “I know, right? But today, I don't feel all of that.” He shifted to face Marek and folded one leg on the bed, letting the other dangle off the side. Looking around the room, he added, “There's a buzz I can sense if I touch the walls and concentrate really hard, but it's like it's resting or something. I think you were incredibly upset and emotional last night, and the house took it all inside itself. I think it maybe thought I was leaving when I got up, and it was trying to keep me here. I don't know any other way to explain what I felt. What I have been feeling for two years.” Marek narrowed his gaze and studied the room, searching for life. He dug his feet into the floor, and it just felt…hard. Shrugging, he looked at Colin. “I don't feel it. I never have. I don't know what else to say.”

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“You don't have to; that's not why I told you. Shit, I'm still trying to put it all together myself. If I believe everything I told you to be true, and I do, that still doesn't explain why this house reached halfway across the globe and sent your pain and its sadness to me.” Colin offered a little smile and put his hand on Marek's knee, pausing as he watched himself draw circles with his index finger. “I haven't seen you in such a long time, and let's face it”—he glanced up—“we didn't really hang out together very much when we were younger. But at the same time, I definitely don't have any connection to the other people who owned this place to explain why the dreams would come to me, so that leaves complete random happenstance—which I do not believe in— or our brief contact as teenagers as the reason they found their way to me. There has to be something, Marek. There has to be.” Marek ground his teeth against one another, but the guilt clawed in his throat, choking him where he sat. He looked into Colin's eyes, and words just wanted to spill out of his mouth. “I—” No no no. Marek clamped his jaw shut, trapping the confession inside. If I stay here five seconds more, I'm going to tell you everything, and I can't bear to lose you. Not yet. “You what?” Colin squeezed his knee. “I liked you a little bit in high school,” Marek confessed in a rush. He shot up and moved to the window, needing fresh air. He braced his hand on the frame and looked to the calming blue of the Pacific. “I thought about kissing you and getting my hand down your pants once or twice.” Totally true. It was just that Marek had fantasized about a lot of other boys in addition to Colin. Colin's was actually based on the person, though, not just a male body, and that was rare. “Maybe it's that.” Mixed with a heaping shitload of “forgive me” for inadvertently instigating the most awful event in your life. “I thought you were cute too.” Colin moved in behind Marek, and Marek's pulse started jumping out of control. Wrapping his arms around Marek's chest, Colin settled his cheek on Marek's shoulder and kissed his ear. “But I hadn't filled out quite yet, and you were all big and mysterious and sexy, and you always intimidated me with how quiet and watchful you were.” “I was just covering my ass and trying to stay off everyone's radar.” “Yeah.” Colin nodded; Marek could feel the motion against his shoulder. “Being a teenager and gay and terrified to tell anyone will do that to a person.” It'll do a lot worse than that. Exhaling the chaos, Marek let the familiar smell of damp earth outside calm him as he breathed back in. Although he couldn't see it from his bedroom window, he knew from living here that some of that ground was already cracking as it dried under the beating of the early sun. Other island treasures lived hidden in the tropical mountain foliage, and right then one of the most special flitted across Marek's mind. “You want to go for a hike?” he asked. “I'll show you something you won't see in Texas.” Marek reluctantly untangled from Colin's hold, but clasped his hands before he stepped away. “We have to go today; it might not be there tomorrow.”

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“I see you're still a little bit mysterious. You have me intrigued.” Colin dipped his head and sniffed himself, scrunching his face afterward. “Okay, I know we're going to sweat, but I still need a shower first. I also want to call my friends and assure them I'm all right.” “I'll jump in first while you make your calls.” Marek smacked Colin's ass, and Colin mock yelped. “Get moving. Grab those jeans you were wearing last night, unless you brought another pair of long pants. Wait a second.” He grabbed Colin before he stepped two feet away. “Get everything but your shoes; I'll give you a proper pair of hiking boots to wear.” He lined his bare foot up next to Colin's. “Close enough fit.” Colin reached down and stroked his palm right down the length of Marek's penis. “It's more than close. It's a damn fine fit.” Marek groaned as his dick twitched. “Geez, you're a cock-tease.” He didn't fight the touch though. In fact, he pushed into it a little bit. A seductive-as-hell smile lit Colin's face and turned his eyes downright sultry. “If only we'd known it in Henderson. Think of the fun we could have had.” He rubbed Marek's prick with a firm touch, certainly felt it respond under his hand, and winked. Then he let go. “Be right back.” Marek openly stared as Colin walked away, craving every line of the man's sleekly muscular back, tight ass, and long legs. Just as Colin surely wanted. Let the man tease. Lighthearted was good. It was when they got serious that Marek risked everything.

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Chapter Thirteen “Oh, wow.” Colin stared, mesmerized and enchanted by the view before him. Halfway up Marek's mountain, Colin stood at the edge of a small pool of clear water, perhaps only twenty-five or thirty feet in diameter. Colin could see the dark, rocky bottom but didn't fool himself into thinking that meant the spring was shallow. He took all that in on a cursory scale…for the moment. Right now, though, Colin could not take his eyes off the waterfall across the span of the pool. Rushing down from a ledge some twenty feet above, the small fall only looked to have a three- or four-foot width, but it didn't matter. The smooth arc of water running into the spring was framed by lush green foliage, and red, yellow, and orange flowers of various varieties, making it a center point of something incredible. Marek leaned in and nudged Colin's shoulder. “Like it?” “Are you kidding?” Colin asked incredulously. He could not stop staring at the striking testament of Mother Nature and time, as well as the rest of the amazing surroundings. Colin hadn't thought anything could be as gorgeous as Marek's beach and ocean view. He was wrong. “This is beautiful.” “You're not too tired or sore?” Marek slid in behind Colin, wrapped his arms around his stomach, undid the backpack waist strap, and slid the pack off his shoulders. “I noticed last night you have some additional scarring on your hip. It's a strenuous hike up the side of this mountain for someone who hasn't done it before.” “It's from the attack.” That must have been why Marek kissed his hip so tenderly last night. In the heat of Marek finally touching him, Colin hadn't even thought about it. He lived in this body every day; he was used to it. “If I end up sore, I'll recover,” he promised. He bent his right knee off the ground and rotated it from the front to the side

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and back. His flexor tightened some already, and he knew he'd need some pain relievers tonight before bed. “This is worth a sore hip. Thank you for bringing me.” “No problem. I had a feeling you would appreciate it.” Marek unbuckled his bag and let it fall to the fern-covered ground next to the one he had given Colin to use. He stood shoulder to shoulder, hands in his front pockets. “It's a temporary fall, or what people sometimes call an ephemeral waterfall. It comes with the rain, and depending on how long it storms, it can last for as little as a few hours or up to a few weeks. I've seen it run off for ten days straight at the most so far, but only once. Usually it's a morning or afternoon to a few days.” “It's like a perfect tourist postcard snapshot. I've never seen anything like it in my life.” Colin dragged his attention off the scenery long enough to send Marek a wry, sidelong glance. “And it's almost all yours.” “Almost.” Marek dug his hands deeper into his pockets, but a proud smile stole the “aw shucks” gesture. “I can count on one hand the number of times I've crossed paths with another of the island's residents while hiking on this mountain. And I'm all over this place a lot.” “How could you stay away if this was your backyard?” Not to mention that Marek apparently didn't have a nine-to-five job consuming most of his waking hours. He could obviously afford this luxury. “I don't know if you noticed,” Marek said, drawing Colin's focus back to him, “but there's a shelf behind the fall. Do you want to go behind the water and look from the other side? It's a short but slippery climb to get in there, so just be aware. We can leave the bags here for now.” Colin stepped back and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Lead the way.” Following, Colin stayed close on Marek's heels as he circled the pool and came to what looked like an uneven, narrow set of stairs dug into the rocky mountain face. Marek stopped and turned, facing Colin once again. “It's not far but just take it slow and make sure you can feel a good grip with your boots before you push off to the next step. If you keep your right hand on the rock as you climb, you'll find natural places to hold as you move.” Colin nodded, and Marek added, “I'll go first. Give me at least one free step between us before you start. Okay?” Colin agreed, and Marek began the brief climb. Watching where Marek placed his feet and how he used the mountain wall to help him, Colin actually gave the man two steps before he started. He moved steadily upward and inward with careful precision, extremely mindful of the traction the soles of Marek's boots gave him; he understood why his running shoes would not have been adequate for this task. Perhaps bare feet, where he could use his toes almost as fingers, would be the only thing that might work as effectively. With the last steep stair, Colin's legs shook from the tension and concentration, but he stepped onto a rock shelf with a jagged, angled roof cut right into the mountain. Dampness clung to the stone, and the slightest mist from the waterfall constantly

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floated into the enclosure, lowering the temperature at least ten degrees. The sounds of the water running over the lip above and splashing into the spring below amplified in Colin's ears, blocking out the chirps and squawks of birds and other life beyond. Ahead, Marek stood close to the ledge, his arm stretched out to his side with his fingers grazing the inner plane of the fall. “Come look and feel.” Marek beckoned with his other hand. “You might think you climbed a good distance up, but really you haven't. It was more in than up. Take a glance over the side at how close we are to the pool below.” Colin walked to Marek's side with a sensation inside him that within this place, he could not rush. He looked over the rim, shocked that no more than ten feet separated where they stood from the spring. Marek took his hand and held it out under the fall with his, and Colin gasped as the first shock of chill turned his fingers icy. “Shit.” A little shiver rocked through him. “That's colder than I expected.” Colin kept his hand under the thick stream, though, held in the strong grip of Marek's. “But not that powerful, you'll notice,” Marek pointed out. “The storm last night didn't end up producing rain heavy enough, and it didn't last long enough to give it a true thundering rush. It wouldn't surprise me if this one goes away by evening.” “It sounds loud enough to me.” Marek took their hands out from the flow of the fall but left them linked together. “It doesn't happen often, but there are times when the water is coming down so fast, and there's so much of it, that when you stand here you can feel it vibrating through your whole body.” Excitement brightened Marek's eyes and enthusiasm fused his voice. “When you leave, it takes a good part of your trek back down the mountain to reacclimatize to varying degrees of sound. It's really something incredible to experience.” Marek's passion crackled between them, and Colin couldn't help smiling. “You obviously come up here a lot.” “Yep, I do.” Marek leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Colin's lips. “And one of the things I learned is that right now”—he let go of Colin's hand and pulled off his Tshirt, revealing too much perfect, gorgeous body—“it is just right for a jump and a swim.” He backed away from the ledge and stooped down to unlace his boots. “Come on.” Pausing with one boot almost off, Marek glanced up. “Start getting naked.” Jump off the shelf? Colin took another peek down, and with a sense of tunnel vision, the pool suddenly looked a whole lot farther away. “Jumping doesn't seem entirely safe.” “It's fine. I've done it at least a hundred times.” Marek finished with his boots and socks, stood, and went for his belt. “I didn't bring you up here to sit down and dangle your feet over the side.” “Still…” Colin knew the ledge cleared the side of the cliff by a good number of feet, but he had this image of himself whipping backward, cracking his head open, and bleeding to death. “I don't know.”

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“I promise I'll hold your hand the whole way down.” Marek held his unzipped pants at his hips, keeping them from slipping farther down and revealing more than the base of his penis. He looked up at Colin with playful heat burning in his gaze. “If you do it, I might even give you a blowjob afterward.” He stuck his hand down the front of his underwear and clearly stroked his length, moaning once before letting his pants and underwear hit the floor. He stood before Colin naked, and his dark cock jutted with the beginnings of an erection. Colin swallowed the rush of saliva filling his mouth and tore his focus off the enticing view of Marek's half-hard prick. “You'll give me a blowjob anyway.” Marek started stalking him the scant distance; Colin's heart rate sped up, but he kept his chin angled high and held his ground. “You like sucking cock.” Marek kept coming and finally ended up standing so close that his body heat swirled around Colin like a blanket. “I certainly like yours.” He slid his hand around Colin's waist and skimmed a kiss against his temple. Holding there, he said, “Now undress and let me see it.” He dipped lower, right to Colin's ear. “Sweetness.” Colin shivered at the name. “Now who's the tease?” Groaning, Marek nipped Colin on the shoulder, but pulled away and rubbed his arms in a comforting pattern. “All right, in all seriousness, I can feel your nervousness. Where is your hesitation coming from? I don't want you to be scared and intimidated; I want you to try it because you think it'll be fun.” Okay, so maybe I don't really think I'm going to crash into the mountainside. Still, Colin couldn't ignore the butterflies in his stomach. They were as familiar to him as the scars on his body. “Just give me the basics,” he shared, “so I'm not surprised by something unexpected when I hit the water.” A shadow crossed Marek's eyes right then, but with a blink, it was gone, and Colin wondered if he had imagined it. “I can do that.” Marek went to unbuttoning Colin's shirt as he talked. “It's cold right where you jump, but the rest of the pool is warmed by the heat and sunlight because, remember, the fall isn't always flowing.” He drew Colin's shirt down his arms and tossed it to land in the pile with his clothes. Then he led Colin away from the ledge and dropped to his knees to undo Colin's shoes for him. “The water feels really funky against your skin when you swim from the deep point where the waterfall hits to the shallower areas on the edges, and you can feel the temperature slowly shift from cold to warm with each stroke you take.” “Sounds interesting.” Colin planted his hand on Marek's head, steadying himself as Marek removed both of his boots. “You swear you won't let go of my hand?” “I promise.” Marek pressed a kiss right above the line of Colin's belt and looked up at him from his kneeling position. He darted his tongue into Colin's belly button, making Colin tremble. He worked the belt open and finished, “But I also know you're going to want to do it on your own the second time around.”

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“One step at a time.” As Colin said that, he couldn't help thinking he'd dived headfirst into getting to know Marek again at about step ninety-three out of one hundred. Fuck. I'm already in so deep. The proof? Colin now stood naked behind a waterfall with a man he'd known as an adult only in his dreams, and he was about to trust him enough to jump off a cliff. That was so unlike the person he was back in Austin. Marek took Colin's hand and guided him right to the ledge. “Ready?” Colin looked at Marek and all his jittery nerves settled and transformed into anticipation. He won't let me get hurt. Colin squeezed Marek's fingers. “Ready.” Nodding sharply, Marek called, “One, two, three…” He swung their linked hands backward then forward, helping momentum. “Jump!” Colin leaped with all of his might, shooting through the rush of the icy waterfall and out the other side. Adrenaline hit at full speed, and he screamed as he flew through the air. He swore he heard Marek shout with laughter next to him; his grip on Colin's hand remained tight enough to grind bone on bone. A blaze of sunlight blinded Colin, and he plunged downward at incredible speed, hitting the water with a jolt of force and cold. He closed his eyes a split second before he sank through the chilly liquid like a stone, but he already had his breath held the entire way down, and he knew how to swim. It didn't matter. Marek still gripped his hand in a bruising clasp and gave him the tug needed to surge to the surface. His face breaking through the water, Colin wheezed and inhaled half a dozen giant gulps of much-needed air. Every molecule in his body popped and tingled with a sense of being completely alert. Water sluiced over his nudity with an intimacy he had never experienced while taking a shower or bath, and the sunlight twinkled over his face in a warm caress. This was elemental, and it pushed at pieces of himself—the freer spirit—he hadn't let see the light of day in many years. Marek tugged Colin's hand, and Colin finally opened his eyes. Blinking rapidly, droplets of water fell from his lashes and splashed on his cheeks. It took a second for his vision to clear, even though Marek treaded water right next to him. “Not done yet,” Marek said. “Now you have to swim to the side.” He released his fingers from the death grip he had on Colin. “You'll need both hands to do it.” Pushing his wet hair off his forehead, Marek shifted to his back and took a few small strokes away but kept his focus on Colin. “I'll race you to where we dropped the backpacks.” He floated while Colin did a sidestroke and pulled even. “Ready…set…go!” Marek stroked on his back, but Colin quickly shifted to freestyle, slicing through the water with full, broad glides of his arms and aggressive kicks from his legs. He didn't care if he won, but once again his juices were flowing at full pace, and he moved through the water with all the speed he could muster. Marek's big body surfed right past him, and competition surged another burst of energy in Colin's limbs. Very quickly, his hand touched the moss and rock natural wall of the pool…and Marek's leg that dangled over the edge.

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Reaching down, Marek grabbed Colin's arm and hoisted him out of the spring. He brushed the water off Colin's body, smiling sheepishly. “That wasn't really a fair race. I'm going to guess I swim a whole lot more than you do.” “Don't worry.” Colin slid his hand down Marek's chest to his stomach, reveling in the hard, tight flesh. He eased around Marek's trim waist to the small of his back and then went lower, jerking him closer with a hold on his ass. “I wasn't going to hold the advantage against you.” He teased his middle finger between the snug globes of Marek's buttocks and flicked his entrance. Marek swayed into Colin, reached back, and held Colin's fingers over his crease. “Mmm, that's nice. So, other than the fixed race, what did you think?” Colin's gaze drifted to the fall, and his chest pounded with an extra kick, beyond what touching Marek did to him. “You know, I was trying so hard to keep up with you in that race, I didn't take time to notice the change in the water temperature.” He let go of Marek and cocked his head to the side. “I think we need to do it again.” He waggled a brow. “Maybe more than once.” Marek barked with laughter. He snaked his hand around Colin's neck and dragged his mouth in for a hot kiss. Pushing his tongue through, Marek licked fast and deep but just as quickly ended the tangle. “Damn, I knew you'd love it here. Your turn to lead.” He spun Colin toward the makeshift steps and smacked him on the ass, stinging his flesh. “You'll do fine in your bare feet. You go first.” That sense of rightness Colin felt in his dreams settled on him again in reality, and as he hiked to jump with Marek again, he shivered. I don't ever want to leave.

***** Colin floated near the edge of the pool, luxuriating in the warm beat of the sun raining down on him while still enjoying the water under his back. He and Marek had jumped off the waterfall shelf at least six times. Needing a break, this time Colin lingered in the pool rather than immediately letting Marek pull him up to solid ground. Peeking with one eye, Colin spotted Marek on the bank, leaning back with his weight resting on his elbows, his head tilted up to the sun. “So, is this how you spend your days now?” Colin asked, broaching carefully. God, though, he craved knowing more about this man. “Split between hiking in mountains and swimming in the ocean?” “Nooo.” Marek drew out the word, answering without moving or opening his eyes. “The greenhouse takes a lot of time to tend properly, and I actually sell some of what I grow to a restaurant on the main island that specializes in vegetarian food.” Colin pushed upright to treading water, his gaze fully on a reclining Marek. “But that's not earning you enough to maintain the expenses of living in your house.” His

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curiosity warred with etiquette regarding someone else's financial and personal situation. “Even if you do close off more than half the rooms.” “Yes, you're right about that.” Marek shifted and stretched out long on his side. He found Colin in the water with his gaze and rested his head in his hand. His eyes were pure and piercing, but without righteous fire. “Scrap metal is a big, profitable business. You would be surprised. At least it was for my uncle, and then me when I took it over. I had a woman who owns a big corner of that business hounding me to sell after my uncle passed away and I took complete ownership of the business. When Payton died and I knew I couldn't live in Pittsburgh anymore, I sold it to her. It was enough to allow me to buy the house, to spread most in some safe investments, as well as play with a smaller portion in riskier trades.” He picked a pluming fern branch out of the ground, pointed it at Colin, and a little grin teased his lips. “You can do all that from the computer now, as I'm sure you know. I spend part of my time every week on the Internet with my financial planner. I'm not a total bum.” Many of Marek's early comments about Colin “gaining” something from him twitched at Colin's feathers. The full truth suddenly hit him and he bounded across the water and up the side of the pool with Spider-Man-like moves. “You rich, suspicious son of a bitch.” Colin threw himself down on Marek and wrestled the man to his back, going right for his ticklish waist. “I thought you were wary that I wasn't entirely sane, but you were really scared I knew how much money you have and was here to rob you blind. Oh”—he poked Marek all over, even hitting with tormenting brushes of his fingers under the man's armpits and knees—“you will so have to pay for that.” “Me?” Marek shouted and wiggled under Colin's multifinger attack; tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed and begged Colin to stop. Colin tilted and reached out to grab the ground for balance; Marek moved in on the small opening for control and flipped Colin off him, bounding to his feet. “You just unleashed tickle torture and broke all kinds of fair fighting rules.” Marek widened his stance and spread his arms. With Marek's intense stare, Colin jumped to his feet too, and his mind and body hummed with just as much excitement as his racing heart. Marek whispered hotly, “Better start running.” A skitter of fear mingled inside Colin, even though he knew they were playing and he was perfectly safe. Marek lunged, and Colin spun away, calling out a “catch me” dare and shooting across the clearing at a dead run. His legs churned with speed, and his feet pounded the fern-covered ground with nary a stab of pain for the hard stone below. For every step he took, Colin could feel Marek right on his back, so close his heat warmed Colin's skin and his breath skated across Colin's nape. Everything inside him pumping overtime, Colin veered toward the left, right for the steps to the shelf. “Wait, wait! Be careful.” A hand whipped out and grabbed Colin, digging into his forearm. The cutting edge in Marek's voice froze Colin in place with his foot on the bottom stair. “No playing anymore,” Marek said, his tone firm. “Don't go up those steps fast just to stay out of my reach. You will slip and get hurt.” His breath caught audibly, and his grip on Colin slipped away. “Or worse.”

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Colin slumped against the rock, losing a little bit more of his ability to remain distant upon hearing the emotion scratching Marek's voice. “You're right,” he said. “I wasn't thinking.” He rolled his head and connected to Marek's gaze, holding it in silence for a drawn-out moment. “I'm sorry.” Marek nodded and looked away, putting his stare on the pool. “Just take care as you go up.” He held back, out of touching range, but said, “I'll be right behind you.” Give him some quiet to pull himself together. Colin started up the steps without another word, extremely mindful of where he placed his feet and hands. He could not believe in horsing around he had almost charged up these uneven steps without care; Colin could only be grateful Marek possessed a cool head and sharp reflexes. Otherwise, Colin might have been two steps up and right off the edge before Marek's verbal warning had a chance to penetrate his brain. Reaching the shelf, Colin moved toward the back and sat down, bending his legs to his chest. The damp from the flat slab of stone sank into his bare ass, but Colin welcomed the brief shock of cold. Marek reached the landing but hung back, letting his attention drift over the entirety of the small lean-to structure. It looked like he made a move toward jumping again but instead swept in on Colin, sank to his knees, and stole an aggressive, desperate kiss. Colin immediately opened up and let Marek in, loving the duel of tongues and Marek's sweeps into the depths of his mouth. Angling his head, Colin wrapped his arms around Marek's neck and pulled him in closer, taking a little bit of the charge back. Marek's hands fell to the ground to hold himself up, and he breathed heavily against Colin's mouth as the tips of their tongues pulsed in and out, grazing one another and retreating with exquisite tastes for more. On the fourth flick, Colin captured Marek's tongue and suckled the nubby length, drawing it past his lips to the wet heat of his mouth. He pulled on the small appendage with suction, and licked the smoother underside, earning him a tremble from Marek. Colin let Marek's tongue slip free, and looked into his eyes. “Let me suck your cock. I want it.” Marek groaned and pushed Colin's legs apart, making room to slide himself in. “I want inside you again.” He held Colin's hips and ground their thickening penises together, setting Colin's length on fire. Marek nipped at Colin's sensitized lips, pulling the lower one between his teeth, not stopping until it slipped free. “Even if I can only use a few fingers.” Colin smiled against Marek as he remembered what he still had in the pocket of his jeans. “You can start with as many fingers as you want.” Fuck. Colin's passage throbbed, already anticipating the invasion. “But there's no need to stop at that.” His grabbed his discarded jeans, shoved his hand into the front pocket, and withdrew the pillow packet of lube. “You can thank Tom next time you see him. He has an interesting array of stuff in his shaving kit, and I grabbed one of these last night before I came to you.” He waved the white pack enticingly in front of Marek's face.

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Marek grabbed the lube out of Colin's hand and studied it, apparently seeing a convenience packet for the first time. “Nice. Maybe I'll send him a fruit basket.” Colin pushed into Marek with his weight and eased the man down onto his back. “Or a big slab of meat.” He kneeled on his hands and knees over Marek, looking at him with all kinds of dirty ideas showing in his eyes. Marek chuckled. He slid his hand around the back of Colin's head and drew him close. “I'm not even gonna go there.” He lifted his head and captured Colin's mouth in a slow, exploring kiss. His fingers dug into Colin's hair, and his other hand slid down Colin's side to clutch his hip, pressing until he toppled Colin down on top of him. Marek then curled his hand right around Colin's ass, rocked their groins together, and let his fingers delve until the tips rubbed over Colin's excited sphincter. The man kissed Colin as if he had all year to do it; he probed Colin's mouth with gentle, shallow stabs and caressed his hair and nape with the softest brushes from his fingers. Colin's heart pounded, his hole shivered for more, and he very nearly pushed back on the pressure against his bud to help Marek get inside his ass. No. Not yet. Using supreme will, Colin shoved his hand between their mouths and drew up to his knees. “Hold on.” He stared down and groaned at the picture Marek created with his red-tinged lips, slashing cheekbones, and bottomless blue eyes. “God knows you're about the sexiest damn thing I've ever seen, but I want a taste of your cock before you fuck me again.” He rubbed his thumb across the fullness of Marek's lower lip. “I won't be kissed out of my mind and forget about it.” Marek grabbed Colin's thumb with his teeth and pulled it inside his mouth, sucking the digit and teasing the webbing with his tongue. All the while, his focus held on Colin, dark and unwavering. “Hell yeah.” Colin succumbed to desire as he watched Marek perform fellatio on his thumb. “I'll do it just like that.” Colin's dick was hard as a rock, but he reluctantly withdrew his finger, making a little popping noise as he severed the connection. Shaking his head to clear the fog, he tilted Marek's head back and licked down the column of his throat, pausing to dip his tongue into the indentation beneath his Adam's apple. Marek's throat convulsed as he swallowed, and his hips bumped up into Colin's core. Colin burrowed into the curve again, fucking the little dip with his tongue. Marek spread his arms wide and pushed his palms, spread-fingered, into the stone. He hissed, and his head arched even farther back. “You have an incredible mouth and tongue.” Colin kept his head down, but glanced up with his eyes. “Oh, I'm just getting started.” With that, he shimmied down and proceeded to anoint every inch of skin covering Marek's shoulders and chest with a brush of his lips, a light graze of his teeth, or taste from his tongue. He ran the tip of his finger around the small dark circle of Marek's nipple and then coated the area with a drop of spit. In response, Marek rolled his body in a long, needful wave, making Colin eager to do more. He curled his lips in over his teeth and worried the twisted disc of flesh, pausing to sweep his tongue back and forth over the tiny tip before moving on.

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Pecking kisses across the width of Marek's chest, Colin gave similar ministrations to Marek's other nipple, loving every jolt and start the man's body gave him. He dipped and licked down the side of Marek's torso, shifting as he created a slick trail on Marek's warm, tan skin, and not stopping until he reached Marek's hip. Skin pulled taut over the jutting bone, and Colin opened wide over it, sucking with as much enthusiasm as he planned to do with Marek's prick. Marek groaned and drew one leg up, curling his toes into the damp flooring. He palmed the back of Colin's thigh, yanking and manipulating until Colin straddled his chest. “If you don't hurry it up”—his voice was ragged and strained—“you're gonna get about one lick at my cock before I bury it all the way in your ass.” Marek dragged Colin's buttocks down and spread his cheeks. “I'm getting you ready right now.” He plunged his face into Colin's crease, sucked right on his asshole, and Colin very nearly came undone. Groaning against the insane pleasure, Colin slid down to his elbows and spread his legs wider on either side of Marek's chest, eager to open himself to more of the intimate kiss. Marek licked and poked at his pucker, driving the muscle and channel beyond into a pulsing frenzy for more. Colin dropped his head down and sucked in cleansing oxygen, trying desperately to clear his mind. He couldn't help pushing his ass back into the rimming, though, searching for something deeper that would fill him full inside. A cool, slick substance shocked the heated area, and moments later, a firmer pressure tapped Colin's bud, steadily increasing force, until Colin's body gave up the battle and Marek's finger penetrated his ass. “Ohhh fucckk…” Colin squeezed his eyes shut and bit his cheek as Marek eased that single finger out and slowly pushed in two, twisting them and working in more lube. Colin's channel throbbed with every tormenting slide along his walls, and his penis snapped to full salute against Marek's neck, dripping early cum. Carnal desires racked Colin's body, and he blindly turned his head, searching for Marek's cock. A searing line of heat stamped a brand on his jaw and cheek, and Colin licked his way up to the top, engulfing the head and then taking half the length to his throat. Marek's hips bucked with the taking, and he redoubled his efforts in Colin's ass with a third finger slipping inside and spreading, stretching Colin's opening with a twist of pleasure and pain. Colin released Marek's erection to swallow and grit his teeth, but as soon as he could breathe again, he stuffed his mouth full of rearing cock one more time and pressed his tongue flat down the topside while taking Marek almost to the root. “Enough, enough.” Marek withdrew his fingers from Colin's chute and reached down, knocking at Colin's jaw as he went for his own nuts and pulled them away from his body. “If you don't turn around and sit on me right now, I'm gonna come down your throat, and we're gonna leave your pretty ass open and slick for nothing.” Smiling inside, Colin oh-so-lightly grazed his teeth up Marek's granite-hard cock and swiped the slit with his tongue, to the sounds of low cursing and groans from Marek behind him. Colin turned around and straddled himself right over Marek's

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straining cock. He found Marek's gaze and held it. Watching, he said, “We can't have that.” He reached back and took Marek in hand, lined them up, and bore right down on his thick head. Colin rolled his hips and pushed, and with a grunt of pleasure, Marek broke through, breaching Colin's ass. “Jesus Christ.” Marek's eyes darkened to cobalt as Colin swallowed each inch with his rectum, and it looked like he didn't breathe until Colin had every centimeter tucked inside and could take no more. “Still so tight.” He drew his legs up and grabbed onto Colin's thighs, sinking his fingers painfully into Colin's flesh. “Suffocating.” He flexed under Colin, withdrawing and entering again, creating torturously inadequate friction along Colin's walls. “More.” Colin curled his hands into fists on Marek's chest and rocked his lower body in a faster, delicious slide up and down on Marek's invading prick. “Take more.” Marek sucked in a breath and knifed his hips in a rougher rhythm, countering deeply with every downward thrust of Colin's ass. “Oh yeah, fuck me.” Marek's face twisted, and he stabbed his dick deep inside Colin, owning Colin, even from the more submissive position. “Fuck my cock.” Colin slid down and wrapped his arms around Marek's head, fusing chest to chest, and crying out with pleasure as his passage took a pounding. With his legs folded in half on either side of Marek's waist and hips, Colin slammed his flaming tunnel down to receive Marek's piercing length again and again, groaning in time with every full taking. Colin squeezed his anal muscles with all his might, clutched at Marek's cock inside, and swore to God he could feel each and every ridged vein inside him. The mist from the fall swirled around them, and the shielding wall of water and drumming noise blocked out everything beyond, cocooning Colin and Marek in a private world smack in the middle of the outdoors. Colin bracketed his arms around Marek's head and became trapped in the depth and focus of his stare. He whipped his ass up and down over Marek's embedded erection, burning for the physical joy in the connection, but the hold with his gaze locked Colin to this man more powerfully than any interlocked body parts ever could. Colin got so caught up in wanting another level of closeness with Marek that he brushed his thumb on the sharp cut of Marek's cheek and dipped down to sip a kiss off his lips, aching for the muffled noise and cling of mouths Marek gave him in response. “Ohhh goddamnit fuck…” Marek delved one hand down to Colin's backside and the other into his hair, clutching him in a violent hold. Fusing Colin to his front, Marek surged his cock deep one more time, stilled, and with a shudder, succumbed to orgasm and emptied himself inside Colin's ass. Wetness filled Colin, coating the deepest parts of his bowel with hot cum. A long, thick cock pulsed in his rectum, a big hand gripped his buttocks in a bruising hold, and a husky voice whispered against his lips, “Let me feel you come.” Colin didn't know if it was the final request, or a combination of the three, but his balls responded to it like the most intimate touch. His penis swelled ridiculously.

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Squished between his stomach and Marek's, Colin gave it up and came, shooting seed all over their flesh. His anus contracted all around Marek, and they both shivered as the last wave of sensation rippled through their sated bodies. Marek continued to hold Colin to him for a long stretch of time afterward. Colin would have stayed forever, but eventually his leg muscles and hip protested the folded position. An unintentional groan escaped him, giving him away. “Are you okay?” Marek immediately released him and gently rolled him onto his side, running his hand all up and down the side of his body, and even delved his fingers into Colin's crack to settle his asshole. “Damn me.” He rubbed Colin's hip, and Colin just managed to bite down a wince. The man would surely blame himself for something Colin had gloried in participating in equally. “Shh, please.” Grabbing Marek's questing fingers, Colin carried them to his lips and pressed a kiss to the callused skin. “I'm fine. I promise.” Colin rolled to his back and moved Marek's big hand to his cheek, holding it there. “But you're not going to get me out of this hiding spot and back down the mountain until you feed me.” His gaze drifted to the waterfall and came back to Marek with a smile. “Unless you want to pick me up and toss me over the edge.” “Not unless I'm holding you in my arms.” Marek leaned down and brushed his lips back and forth over the sensitivity of Colin's, teasing him into a moan, then pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose. “You relax.” He winked and hopped to his feet. “I'll go get the pack with food. Be right back.” Colin watched Marek walk away, stifling another groan at the combination of balls-to-the-wall sexy and pussycat gentle that made up just a few parts of this complex man. He'd known it from the second he saw the house from the deck of the schooner and then met Marek again in person after living with him for two years in his dreams; Colin was in even bigger trouble with the reality of Marek Donovan than the mirage in his mind. I am already knee-deep in love with him and can't imagine leaving this place or him. Marek surely wasn't ready to hear words like commitment and love. Digging the heels of his hands into his forehead, Colin groaned. Fuck.

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Chapter Fourteen Colin let himself inside the house the next afternoon after having spent part of the day with Tom, Alison, Gayle, and Sylvia. Marek had driven him to Vanua Levu in his boat this morning and had returned home to do some work; Colin had driven himself back in his speedboat rental. He put down a few bags and leaned against the doorjamb to toe off his shoes, eager to be barefoot again. The soles of his feet hit the hardwood floor and a nice little buzz tickled up to his calves. He chuckled, almost used to the minor sensations now. “Hi, darlin'.” He ran his hand along the wall and swore to God it vibrated under his hand like a purring cat. “I'm here.” A throat cleared to Colin's right, and he spun to find Marek leaning against the entry to the computer room. The man arched his brow, and he affected his familiar stance of arms crossed against his chest. “I should have known better than to think that endearment was for me,” Marek said. “And here I got up from my work to greet you and everything.” Marek smirked, and Colin knew his lover only humored him with his comments about the house and didn't entirely believe the things Colin felt were real. Colin strolled across the foyer at a leisurely pace and came to a stop right in front of Marek. “Shame to put those ten feet you walked from the computer to waste.” He slid both arms around Marek's waist and yanked him in right close. “Yes, the house is my darlin', but remember”—Colin rubbed his groin against the bulge pushing behind Marek's cargo pants—“you are my sexy baby.” He pushed Marek back into the squared arch and leaned into him, stealing a warm, exploratory hello kiss. He nudged the seam of Marek's lips and slipped his tongue inside, slowly tasting heat and a mixture of sweet fruits with a hint of smoke, something entirely Marek.

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Marek kissed his way up the side of Colin's face, ending at his hairline. “Mmm…” Inhaling, he circled his hand around Colin's neck and brushed his thumb along the line of his jaw. “So you've added 'sexy' to my title since this morning, have you?” “After the things you did to me in the bathroom”—Colin could still feel the entire front of his body plastered to the wall as Marek covered him and fucked him from behind—“I thought the promotion well earned.” “I aim to please.” Marek sidled out from the door frame but held Colin's hand and led him into the computer room, talking over his shoulder as he did. “But if you share even a single part of this cheesy conversation with anyone, I will buy ropes and a whip, and we will try an entirely new kind of play.” “All right,” Colin said. “So I won't share the details with Jordan and Tag over lunch tomorrow.” Marek sat down in his plush swivel chair, and Colin leaned against the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. “You can make sure I don't, because they would like you to come with me.” Colin rubbed his thumb over a tiny ink smear marring the corner of the desk and tried to wipe the ingrained stain away. “I didn't get to see them today, but I talked to them on the phone and set up an early afternoon lunch.” He worried the inside of his cheek as nerves tackled the steadiness in his voice. “Will you come with me?” Marek sat completely still, his fingers steepled. Drumming the tips together, he eventually said, “I guess. If you want me to.” The edge of his lip pulled, almost making him look like he frowned. “If they want me there.” Relief washed through Colin, and he pushed up a bit straighter. He's just nervous, not unwilling; that's all. “They do. Jordan and Tag would like to get to know the person who has been occupying so much of my time.” Colin shook his head, chuckling. “Shit, the others had a ton of questions today I didn't have the answers for either. Not that I would have shared your history without permission anyway.” Colin had given his investigator friends a strict follow-up order not to do a background check on Marek. He knew such an act would kill the trust he'd managed to earn from this man. Colin wanted a future here and already spent part of every day worrying about what would happen when it was time for him to leave. It nagged at him more and more every hour they were together, but he'd already pushed Marek so hard, so fast, he feared what broaching the subject of staying would do to what they were building. This state of limbo rubbed right against Colin's every instinct to pursue answers and have order in his life, and it constantly kept him on edge. Shit shit shit. “You've suddenly become awfully quiet.” Marek's focus narrowed, penetrating right through Colin, leaving him hot first with a fast chaser of cold. “What kind of things did your friends want to know?” “Like why you're living in Fiji.” Lifting himself onto the edge of the desk, Colin dangled his legs, feeling a bit like an insecure kid. He looked at Marek, and just bit the bullet. “How did you end up here?”

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Staring beyond Colin to the open window, Marek's eyes changed, softened, and it looked like he drifted far away. “Payton always wanted to come to Fiji for a vacation, but he never made it,” he shared. “I think he wanted to visit with me, as a couple, but I always shot him down before he could offer me details. I wasn't willing to be open anywhere, inside the US or abroad.” Marek suddenly blinked, his gaze cleared, and he put it back on Colin. “I had to get out of Pittsburgh after he died, but I wasn't ready to let go of him yet. I came here, where he wanted to be, and just lived with his memory while I worked past his death.” “You gave him the vacation he always wished for.” Marek cleared his throat, and Colin suspected he swallowed down signs of emotion that wanted out. “Not in the way I wish I could have, in hindsight, but yes.” A twinge of jealousy nicked Colin in the chest, but a bigger piece of his heart squeezed with seeing and hearing Marek's capacity to love. It reminded him that the unfathomable pain in the man from his dreams had been very real; but this person before him was very close to finding peace…and was capable of falling in love with someone else one day. Hopefully. Don't get ahead of yourself, Baxter. Tread carefully. “What about Pittsburgh?” Colin suddenly wondered, forcing the conversation in a less intimate direction. He reached his leg out and hooked the arm of Marek's chair with his foot. Dragging it and the man closer, he used Marek's thigh for a footrest. “What made you leave Henderson and head there? Did your uncle call you and offer you a job in his business?” “No. I just…I just”—Marek's face turned stony—“I had to get out of Henderson. I couldn't be there anymore. My uncle George didn't have contact with the family; they had booted him out long ago. In fact, I'd only heard stories about him; we'd never met face-to-face. I researched where he lived, showed up at his business out of the blue, introduced myself, and begged for a job, no matter how small.” “Why wasn't he a part of your family anymore?” “When he was a young man, he stunned my mother's family by announcing he was going to marry a black woman.” Marek's face hardened even more, his lip twitched, and Colin suspected he experienced shame for the bigotry of his family. “No way was an interracial marriage acceptable in my mom's family back then, any more than me being gay today is. No way was George walking away from the woman of his dreams though, so he walked away from Texas with her instead.” Colin's heart went out to Marek and the stifling, close-minded home he'd grown up in. He couldn't imagine the constant fear of hiding homosexuality in an environment like that. “A person has to do what they feel is right,” Colin murmured. “I hope your uncle and his wife were very happy together.” “From what he told me, they were, for a time,” Marek answered. “He lost his wife and only son a good ten years before I showed up in Pittsburgh. Automobile accident on an icy road when she was taking the boy to school one morning.”

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Trembling, Colin rubbed his arms. “How terrible.” With a nod, Marek grimaced. “It wrecked me when Pay died. I can't imagine losing a spouse and child, both on the same day.” He wrapped his hands around Colin's feet, held them close to his stomach, and absently started rubbing the arches. “Some police officer stepping into your office and ripping apart your world with one conversation…” Marek glanced up from his massage of Colin's feet. “Uncle George never remarried.” Another shiver cut down the center of Colin's back. “I guess for some people they feel there's just one right person for them in the world.” Colin spoke that aloud, but inside, he prayed his gut feeling that Marek wasn't one of those people was correct. “Maybe for some of them, it's true. I don't know.” “Maybe.” Marek's eyes grew cloudy once more. His fingers stopped kneading Colin's feet, and Colin wondered—worried—if Marek looked backward and pictured the future he might have had with Payton if the man hadn't died. Marek suddenly drew in a sharp breath, pulled his attention off the World Map screen saver on his computer, and put his focus on Colin. “Anyway, what about Austin for you?” he asked. “Was that where you went after…?” His Adam's apple bobbed hard and he wiped his hand across his mouth. “Jesus Christ, I can barely even think about it. Did your family move you to Austin because of the assault?” Marek visibly worked with every fiber in his being to keep his emotions under control, and Colin was certain he relived his guilt at not being there when Payton suffered the same hatred Colin had. Colin's heart tore for this man, and he swallowed hard to keep the tears and tremor out of his own voice. “We left Henderson because of a lot of things that happened after the beating,” he shared. His voice was rough, but he attributed it to the heaviness in this room right now more than any latent anger and hatred for what happened to him following the attack. “The local law enforcement didn't have any real interest in making more than a token effort to investigate my case after they found out homosexual slurs were thrown at me as hard as the kicks and punches. Since the guys wore masks, I couldn't identify them, and the car my boss was able to see them drive off in ended up being stolen without any identifiable prints in it when it was recovered.” His lips twisted with the memory. “It was easy for the man in charge of my case to show he didn't have any real leads to pursue. More relevant to my parents' choice to move us to Austin was the rumors of why I was beaten. They quickly bled out to my little sister, and kids started harassing her. Some of her friends' parents wouldn't let their kids come to our house anymore because of the whispers that I was beaten because I was 'a gay.'“ Colin put his fingers up in quotes. “As much as my mom and dad wanted justice for me—even in the midst of dealing with me confessing to them that, yes, I was gay—they wanted their family safe more. They were very scared something even worse would happen if we remained in Henderson, so as soon as I was physically well enough to make a trip, we moved to Austin and in with one of my mother's cousins. We stayed with her for six months while my parents looked for new jobs and found a house to rent. Jordan was one of the

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teenagers living on the street where my mom's cousin lived, so that ended up being great.” Controlled passion colored Colin's voice, and a combination of peace, faith, and strength straightened his back. “I went through something horrific, but my parents didn't let it blind me or frighten me to the point that it screwed up my future. They made sure I knew I was valuable and they wanted me, gay and all. And my sister didn't even end up hating me for the move. She ended up thinking Austin was the best thing since sliced bread when she found out they celebrate Eeyore's birthday every year.” He smiled, his heart lifting. “Thank God it was easy to please a ten-year-old.” Two lines appeared between Marek's eyebrows. “Eeyore?” God, he's so cute. Colin leaned forward and rubbed his thumb over the furrow, smoothing it out. “Yeah. From Winnie the Pooh?” “Oh, okay.” A light lit up Marek's eyes, shining through and creating a blue as pure as the ocean outside. “I remember now. The depressed donkey. Right?” Colin tweaked his nose. “That would be the one. All right, enough of me going on and on.” He pulled his feet off Marek's lap and hopped off the desk. “You were working when I walked in. I apologize; I didn't mean to interrupt you.” “No problem, but my financial planner is probably wondering where I am.” Marek rolled his chair forward and moved the computer's mouse over its pad, bringing up the work screen. “Yep, there he is.” He glanced up at Colin for a second. “We were instant messaging when you came in, and I told him I'd be back in ten minutes.” Colin leaned down and pressed a kiss to Marek's cheek. “I'll let you get back to it then.” He lingered longer than strictly necessary, letting his lips absorb the stubble already growing along Marek's jaw and the heat the man's body generated that constantly kept Colin warm. God, how I want this every day. Fear that his need would leak through into Marek turned Colin's voice a little rough. “Sorry I bothered you.” He pecked one more kiss on Marek's jaw and pulled away. The gentle brush of Colin's mouth on Marek's cheek licked into him and touched the deepest recesses of his body and heart. He spun in his chair and snagged Colin's arm, holding him prisoner in the room. Looking up, he said, “You're never a bother.” Rawness cut jagged edges into his tone, but with everything Colin had just shared, and everything Marek still held buried too deeply, with too much shame to speak, he could not control his voice. “I promise you that.” He tugged Colin to him and toppled the man into his arms. Colin chuckled, and the wonderful sound rumbled right through their hold into Marek. Turning, Colin situated himself across Marek's thighs and combed his fingers through Marek's hair. “That's not the tune you were singing when I showed up on your doorstep.” “I was wrong.” Marek caught Colin's hand and trapped it against his chest. “I never should have been suspicious of you.” He realized Colin could feel the racing in

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his heart and shoved their clasped hands to his lap. “Everything about your quality of character shows on your face, in your eyes, and the way you carry yourself.” The teasing twinkle in Colin's eyes faded. “Hey.” He shifted again and slid his knees in on either side of Marek's body. Leaning in, he pressed their chests together. His gaze found Marek's and, like a fully coded tractor beam, trapped Marek in its hold. “What's the matter?” Marek opened his mouth, and the words, his confession, sat right on his tongue. The truth Marek needed to speak ate at him, but a vision of horror and hatred darkening Colin's eyes as he learned the truth about his attack stole the words from Marek's mouth, rendering him mute. He saw Colin storming out the front door and down the porch, away from this house, taking his humor, kind heart, downright sinful sexiness, and the rambling stories he liked to share with him as he walked away, leaving Marek all alone. Marek shuddered, and his body swept from top to bottom with cold. “Marek?” Colin brushed his knuckles down Marek's cheek to his jaw, and the gentleness in his touch elicited another shiver. “Baby, what's wrong?” “Nothing.” I'll suffer in hell for the lie, but I can't lose him. Not yet. Not ever, his head screamed in correction. Marek dug his fingers into Colin's hair and dragged him in until their mouths touched. “Fuck me.” Marek uttered the request as he scraped a bruising kiss over Colin's lips. His ass channel fluttered with anticipation at feeling a real penis inside him again, and his dick jumped in his pants, jamming into Colin's inner thigh. He rubbed himself against Colin and swallowed a groan. Staring into Colin's beseeching eyes, Marek let confessions of a different kind slip free. “Suck my cock and make me come. Then fuck me so hard the only thing I know is you.” Not waiting for Colin to reply, Marek sealed his lips to the other man's in a taking, consuming kiss, stealing as much from Colin as he could while he still had the chance. Marek shoved his tongue into Colin's mouth, thrusting with frantic desire, and he started tearing at Colin's shirt, ripping buttons out of fabric in his need to touch some skin. “Wait wait wait.” Colin grabbed Marek's hands and trapped them against the armrests. “Slow down for a minute.” His eyes were bright and sharp, pinpointing on Marek, and terrifying him with the risk of discovery. “What's the matter?” “I just want you so much.” Marek lunged and captured Colin's lips again. With his wrists tied to the chair by Colin's incredibly powerful grip, Marek used his mouth, revealing his desperation with bites and licks on his lover's lips. He felt certain his eyes shone with an extra brightness too, and his heart still raced terribly, beating through his chest right into Colin. “Please”—every muscle and cell in Marek strained right to the edge of exploding—“don't make me beg.” Colin let go of one of Marek's hands and pressed his index finger to Marek's lips, silencing him. “No, I wouldn't do that.” He slid off Marek and kneeled between his legs on the floor, his face less than a foot away from Marek's cock. His gaze slid up to

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connect with Marek, and his hand went right to the visible bulge in Marek's pants. Colin squeezed him through his clothing, and Marek groaned, sliding down on the chair and spreading his legs wider. Sultry, smoky green eyes stared up at Marek; Colin blinked and then dipped down and ran his tongue all the way up the length of Marek's erection, leaving a dark line of saliva on Marek's pants in its wake. Marek drew in a sharp breath, and he leaked a little stain of his own to join Colin's mark. Snagging Marek's zipper pull with his teeth, Colin dragged the tab down, and the whisper-soft sound of the metal teeth separating became the loudest, most erotic noise Marek had ever heard. He couldn't wait for Colin to take care of the rest and undid the button on his pants himself, reaching inside to pull out his cock and present the thick, reddened length to Colin. “Suck me.” Moaning just saying the words, Marek dug inside his underwear again and put a chokehold on his balls. “I want to feel your mouth on me before I come.” Colin leaned in and closed his lips around the shiny head, sucking just the tip in a way that had Marek clenching his teeth, suppressing a request for more, faster. Colin's tongue circled the rim of Marek's prick and brushed back and forth across the underside. He teased the ultrasensitive nerve endings with his deft touch, but left the rest of Marek's cock throbbing and needy with neglect. Colin suckled off the top and nibbled at Marek's slit in a way that had him hissing, but then Colin abruptly pulled away. A rough noise erupted from Marek's chest; he grabbed Colin's head and tried to shove his face back down over his cock. “Don't worry. I'm not leaving you hanging.” Colin hooked his fingers in Marek's waistband. “I just want your pants all the way off before I give you what you really want.” Giving a little tug on the fabric, he said, “Lift up.” Marek shifted his hips, and Colin removed his pants; at the same time, Marek tore his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it halfway across the room. Colin pushed his torn shirt the rest of the way off his shoulders and shoved his shorts and underwear off to join Marek's pile on the floor. Before Marek could appreciate the sight of a naked Colin, the man pushed in between Marek's spread thighs and ran his hands up and down Marek's stomach and chest, touching over every inch of flesh. “Mmm…all hard, hot skin. That's what I like to see.” He grabbed onto Marek's nipples with his fingers and sucked down half his cock with his mouth. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” Wet heat surrounded Marek's prick in one long drag, and he keened with the sheer joy of sensation. Out of his control, his hips bucked, and the action force-fed more of his length past Colin's lips. Colin accepted the extra inches in stride and closed around Marek's member, sucking him like a thirsty man searching for the last drops of water on earth. Colin pinched Marek's excited, tight nipples back and forth with one hand, and used the other to bat Marek's hold off his testicles and take over the job himself. Instead of keeping Marek's nuts in a lock hold, Colin played with the weight and rolled the sac in his palm, shooting unbearable lines of pleasure up Marek's cock, into his ass, and through to the tip of every nerve ending from his head

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all the way down to his toes. During all that time, Colin never let up on bobbing up and down on Marek's erection, giving a blowjob worthy of an award. Marek's entire body gyrated within the confines of his desk chair as he struggled to contain the pleasure Colin delivered with his incredible mouth and hands. The rich suede texture of the seat beneath him grazed his bare back, thighs, and buttocks. Almost accepting it like an additional caress, Marek luxuriated in the sensation. Perspiration dampened his hair and rolled down his temples, and as Marek watched Colin suck him off through lust-filled eyes, he slipped deeper into the abyss of his sexual need, not the reverse restraint he knew he needed to exhibit. “Oh yeah.” Marek's voice was guttural, and he pumped his hips up into Colin's face, fucking the man's mouth. “Christ, you're so fucking good. Give me a finger too.” His pucker shivered as he drew his legs up and hooked them over the arms of the chair. He slid his ass to the edge of the seat, exposing himself even more. “Play with my asshole and stick one inside.” Colin didn't even look up from his task; he just slid his hand up Marek's body, over his throat and jaw, not stopping until his fingers pushed at Marek's lips, seeking entry. Marek opened up, and Colin thrust his fingers inside, filling Marek's mouth to the throat. Grabbing hold of Colin's hand, Marek held it to his face and licked all around the digits. He suckled the tips and flicked the webbing at the base, juicing Colin's fingers up with as much saliva as he could, preparing them for a penetration he hadn't given himself in a long while. Just when Marek's nuts tightened and he thought he might come from the combination of Colin sucking his dick and him sucking back in tandem on Colin's fingers, Colin withdrew his fingers with a distinct pop. He left a line of spittle between his hand and Marek's mouth as he reached down, tucked his finger against Marek's hole, and rubbed the small, closed bud. Marek's passage automatically contracted, and his sphincter squeezed, withdrawing from the touch. Colin didn't force the invasion but instead moved between flicking the tiny, clenched muscle, to scraping the pad of his thumb over Marek's perineum, to pushing his fingers all the way up and down the split of Marek's ass, driving the nerves hiding within that little-played-with flesh to screaming with new life. While Colin both soothed and revved up Marek's ass for a taking, he continued to deliver long drags over the entire length of Marek's cock, making him harder than he had ever been in his life. “Oh Jesus.” Goddamnit. Marek stared down at Colin through half-closed eyes, and he licked his own lips at the excitement of Colin's mouth surrounding his cock. His prick reared and pulsed with every pass of the other man's mouth, and he leaked a constant stream of precum down Colin's throat. He couldn't exactly see Colin playing with his taint, pucker, and crack, but he could fucking feel it, and it drove him crazy. “Push it in and make me come.” Colin bore down with the blunt tip of his finger, and Marek jammed his hips up at the same time. With a fleeting shot of fire consuming his ring, Marek shouted loud

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enough to bring the roof down as Colin breached him and invaded his ass. The man barely had to get halfway inside and certainly didn't need a second finger; it was as if just the taking pushed an ignite button inside Marek and hurled him toward release. His balls sucked up out of Colin's hold, crowding right up against his body. The familiar line of buzzing raced into his belly, all the way up his spine, and shot straight to his cock. Groaning low and deep, Marek grabbed hold of Colin's hair and held the man to his crotch, keeping his lover's lips locked firmly around his dick as everything in him imploded and he spurted a load of semen into the warmth of Colin's mouth. A spasm rocked through him with each subsequent spray of seed, and his ass contracted wildly around Colin's buried finger, sucking it deeper inside. It felt like he came forever, but eventually, Marek had nothing left to give; he gave up his death grip on Colin's scalp and let his penis slide from his mouth. Marek's rectum barely stopped rippling before Colin sent it into another shiver by withdrawing his digit…only to stretch Marek's ring wider by forcing in two. Colin quickly pulled the new thickness out, but just as fast, he slid his fingers back in and grazed right over Marek's sweet spot. Colin scissored his fingers within the snug confines of Marek's channel, slowly working him open more. Marek's ass pulsed wildly, and he bit his lip. His spent cock lay flaccid against his thigh, but his balls already started tingling again, searching for a way to physically respond once more. Colin pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of Marek's thigh then planted another to his balls, down against his perineum, and finally against his fingers where they disappeared into Marek's anus. Staring upward, he said, “You didn't think you were gonna get a break before round two, did you?” Looking right into Marek's eyes, Colin withdrew his fingers, spit, and flicked his tongue over Marek's gaping asshole. Marek almost flew out of the chair. He dug his fingers all the way down into the cushioning covering the seat, and he gasped and sucked on his lip as every supersensitive nerve sitting right on the line of his pucker jerked to full attention. Colin licked again, and Marek's passage squeezed, trying to grab for something as the skin on his arms and legs popped up with goose bumps all over. Drawing blood from his own lip, Marek stared, rapt, as Colin poked his tongue inside the quickly shrinking opening, swirled it all around, and probed as deep as he could go. His face twisting as he fought off unimaginable pleasure, Marek breathed through gritted teeth. His cock spiked upright, miraculously emerging with rigidity again. He reached out blindly and fumbled open a desk drawer. Sticking his hand inside, he felt around for the tube of lube he wanted and shoved it at Colin. “Please.” He didn't think he could stand another swipe of Colin's tongue over his bud. “Fuck me before I come again.” Colin threw the lube on the floor and jerked Marek out of the chair, only to kick it out of the way, sending it spinning across the floor. “On your back.” Colin tripped Marek's legs out from under him and tumbled him to the floor, using his own body as a cushion for the fall. Quickly, he rolled Marek beneath him and crawled on top, pushing Marek's legs apart and settling in between them. Colin rubbed his cock over Marek's

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taint and balls, but pulled just shy of reaching Marek's ass. Instead, he strong-armed his upper body away from Marek, taking his dick away. Marek whimpered at the loss, but Colin looked up into his eyes and completely took him prisoner. He scooped up the tube of lube, deposited it on Marek's chest, and said, “Slick me up and put me inside you.” Colin issued the order and held above Marek, his big hard prick poised just inches from Marek's ass. With his hands shaking, Marek popped the lid on the lube and squeezed out a dime-size dollop of the extrathick stuff, jumping when the cool substance hit his fingers. His gaze remained trapped in Colin's hold, but Marek reached down and wrapped his lubed hand around Colin's erection, stroking him to cover his length with the stuff. Colin's mouth dropped open and he pumped his cock in the cocoon of Marek's hold, succumbing and responding in a way that settled some of Marek's nerves. A little steadier now, Marek guided the head of Colin's cock to his asshole. He bit his lip as he alternated between staring into Colin's eyes and watching himself as he forced the tip past his tender ring and into his ass. Colin jerked and pushed in a few inches more on his own, and Marek moaned as his passage widened to accept the thicker penetration. He squeezed all around it, sucking Colin deeper inside. Colin's arms trembled with strain as he held himself above Marek, letting only their connected cock and ass touch. “God, you're fucking tight.” Colin shook his head, as if he battled the need to let everything go and lose himself in this coupling. “Okay?” Nodding, Marek said, “Fuck me. Give me the rest.” He wrapped his legs around Colin's backside, locked his ankles right against his ass, and forced Colin's body down, helping push Colin's cock the rest of the way inside his body. Both men groaned as Colin sank deep into the recesses of Marek's chute, filling him to the hilt. Colin dropped to his elbows, fused their stomachs together, and started to rock his weight back and forth over Marek, sliding his prick in and out of Marek's ass. Marek rolled his hips up to meet every measured thrust as best as he could, but he didn't dare release his hold with his legs; he crazily feared Colin would float away if he didn't tie the man to him with some kind of embrace. Slipping deeper into the fear, Marek latched onto Colin in another way, grabbing his upper arm in one hand and clutching his neck with the other. Pulling Colin's face down to his, Marek kissed, licked, and bit all over, ending at Colin's mouth. “Harder.” He knifed his hips up, tried to make the mating rougher, and stabbed his tongue against Colin's lips. “I can take it.” Colin grabbed a fistful of Marek's hair, yanked his head back, and held it trapped against the hard floor. His eyes flashed with the deepest colors of a jungle, and he swooped down, savaging his way into Marek's mouth with teeth and force, fucking with his tongue just as he forced his dick into Marek's ass with piercing depth, drawing a sharp cry from Marek for the aggressive possession.

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Reaching down and grabbing Marek's hip, holding him immobile on top and below, Colin pounded away at Marek's ass, sending his rectum into a confused state of tender discomfort; sweet, sharp pleasure; and uncontrollable, rippling spasms. Marek welcomed and reveled in every level of sensation Colin tore out of him, letting each second seep into him and remind him he was still fully, completely alive. He loved being pressed into the hard floor and the sting tingling his scalp from Colin's fist locked in his hair. His lips were swollen, and his mouth was as abused as his ass, but Marek writhed beneath Colin and strained for even more closeness. He contracted every muscle in or around his ass, trying with everything in him to keep Colin's cock lodged deep inside his body. “Shit…shit.” Colin suddenly stopped, his face darkened with red, and his features turned severe. “Ohhh fuck.” Marek sensed the tension suddenly locking Colin's body tighter than the string on a bow and knew just what it meant. “Let me feel it.” He squeezed his legs, held Colin inside him, and spoke against his lips. “Come in my ass.” Colin dipped down, bore his forehead into Marek's, trembled, and gave Marek exactly what he wanted. Tucked inside, Colin's cock swelled and then released a hot line of steamy seed into Marek's channel, painting his inner walls with cum. He pressed his lips to Marek's as he let go, holding there with hot pulses of labored breathing while succumbing to release. Warmth engulfed Marek inside and out, cloaking him in momentary safety, and he gave it up too, spending himself between the press of their stomachs and wetting them with ejaculate. Both men lay still and silent for a long moment, their labored breathing heaving their bodies in tandem with exhaustion. Sweat stuck Colin to Marek, and Marek to the floor. Eventually, Colin groaned and lifted his head, connecting to Marek's gaze. “Holy fucking shit. I have never had sex with anyone quite like that.” He reached between them, withdrew his dick, and fell to Marek's side on the floor. Just as fast, he reached his arm across Marek's lower belly and kept them connected in a loose hold. “Are you okay?” “Never felt anything quite like what you did to me just now.” Holy mother. Marek glanced at Colin, and just stayed there. “All of it.” Colin smiled and rubbed his fingers in little circles on Marek's hip. “I know something upset you earlier. Do you feel a little better now?” A streak of residual panic raced through Marek, attacking the beat of his heart. Not right now. Don't ruin what just happened. “I cannot move a single muscle,” he said by way of an answer. “You wrung me out good.” Shifting to his side, Colin rested his head in his hand. He dipped down and pecked a kiss on Marek's shoulder. “Nice that you had lube so close by.” He teased Marek's hip with a hint of a tickle.

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Marek covered Colin's hand, trapping it against his leg. “I'm a guy, I have a computer, and there is a whole World Wide Web of glorious male nudity right at my fingertips. Of course I have lube in my desk.” He raised a brow. “Try telling me you don't.” Colin opened his mouth, but the computer beeped right then, and another instant message popped up on the screen. It joined a list taking up the whole monitor. During everything Colin did to him, Marek hadn't heard the ding of a single one. “Oh crap.” Marek grabbed his pants and struggled through protesting muscles to stand up. “I totally forgot about Jeff.” He mentioned his financial planner. “He's probably out there wondering if I had a heart attack or something.” Taking hold of Marek's hand for support, Colin pulled himself upright too. He, however, left his clothes on the floor. “If you don't think it will give him a heart attack, feel free to hint at what did happen.” He leaned in and gave Marek a quick kiss, grinning against his mouth. “Have fun finishing your work.” Colin walked backward toward the foyer. “Or”—he paused at the door and looked Marek up and down like some kind of prize stallion—“you could come upstairs with me.” Marek hesitated. Jeff would understand; they had a good give-and-take working relationship. Still, residual fear held Marek in place. “I should do this,” he finally said. “Okay. See you later then.” Colin walked out of the computer room, waving without turning around, and swaying his firm, sweet ass with a slow, seductive walk. “Bye now.” I shouldn't follow that little wiggle of an invitation. The deeper I get, the more it's going to hurt when he finds out what happened and leaves. Colin's voice drifted into the computer room barely two seconds after he left. “Didn't I see a long vibrating dildo in your drawer the other night?” Marek couldn't see the man, but he already knew Colin's expressions well enough to envision the teasing half smile and pink filling his cheeks. “I haven't played with myself in front of anybody in a very long time,” he went on. “I think I'll have to take that in the shower with me while I clean up.” You seductive bastard. Sinking fast, Marek groaned and quickly instant messaged Jeff a We'll finish this tomorrow. Letting his pants fall back to the floor, and not bothering to waste time shutting down the computer, Marek spun around and raced after Colin. He caught up to the man halfway up the stairs and dogged his delicious ass into the bedroom, tackling him to the floor to Colin's delighted cries. Marek couldn't remember the last time he had heard anything sweeter.

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Chapter Fifteen Colin slipped in behind where Marek sat at his computer and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his dark head. Marek leaned back in his chair and tilted his head up, and Colin dipped down to press another kiss on his lips. Rubbing his nose to Marek's before pulling away, Colin said, “Don't worry. I'm not here to distract you from your work.” He placed a small plate of sliced fruit with crackers and cheese on the desk. “I just thought you might want a snack to hold you over until lunch with Jordan and Tag.” “Thank you.” Marek's brow pulled with lines, and he put his hand on his stomach. “I was getting a little hungry.” “I thought you might be.” They'd had breakfast a good three hours earlier, and Colin was coming to discover Marek wasn't really a big-meal-in-the-morning person. “I also thought I would go for a swim and sit outside for a while with one of the books from your bedroom. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I wouldn't be inside.” “Have fun. Be careful in the water.” Marek glanced at his watch and then at Colin's wrist. “How about I keep an eye on the clock and come get you in time for you to shower and change before we have to leave for the hotel? Okay?” Colin rubbed his bare wrist. “I'm not sure where I set down my watch. Maybe it slipped under the bed or dresser or something. Damn, that puppy wasn't cheap either.” “I'll help you look for it later.” “I'll take you up on that offer,” Colin replied. “Okay, I'm going to go change into my trunks and let you get back to work. I'll see you in a bit.” “Bye.” Marek circled his chair around to face the monitor, grabbed a piece of mango off the plate, and popped it in his mouth. Colin left Marek to his computer and brunch and bounded up the stairs two at a time. Reaching the landing, he turned for Marek's bedroom and came to a stop at the

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sight of one of the doors to the unused rooms ajar. What the hell? Colin had not seen these doors cracked open once in the week he had been at the house. Except for the time he poked his head into each room himself that first day, of course. Approaching carefully, Colin eased the door open the rest of the way. Even though he wasn't exactly scared, chill bumps marred his arms when the hinges squeaked. He peeked inside, and the familiar white curtains that hung through the entire house rustled from the breeze wafting in through the open window. Racing across the landing, Colin opened the other two doors and checked inside, finding curtains blowing in open windows in each of them too. After shutting the door to the final room he checked, Colin moved across the hallway and stopped at the top of the stairs. He looked down and all around and rubbed the arch of his foot over his calf, experiencing the tingle that had already become as much a part of him as breathing. Nothing felt wrong or heavy; the house didn't seem distressed. It felt…content. “Marek?” Colin called down from where he stood. Squeezing his eyes shut, hating that he deliberately exposed himself to mockery, he asked, “Did you open the windows in the extra bedrooms?” “Yes, I did.” Marek's voice carried back to him. “I do it once a week in the rooms I don't use, just to let some air in. Why?” “Nothing. No reason.” Colin's face burned, even though he stood by himself. “Sorry I bothered you. Go back to work.” What did you think, idiot? That Beatrice or Stewart's ghost manifested and opened them? Or maybe the house did it itself? Colin rolled his eyes and walked back to the open bedroom door. Reaching in to grab the knob, light from the hallway and open window cut two swaths across the empty space and almost entirely lit up the room. A door Colin hadn't noticed before caught his attention and drew him inside to investigate. It butted up against Marek's bedroom wall, and Colin guessed it held another small bathroom that matched Marek's. Moving inside just to check, Colin twisted and pulled on the knob and had to tug the swollen wood away from the door frame with a little extra muscle. The door finally released, but instead of a bathroom, Colin found a couple square feet of real estate. When he stepped inside and did a right face military turn, he looked directly at a bare bones set of stairs. He could see the unfinished red-toned slats of wood for a handful of steps, but it grew increasingly darker the rest of the way up, into deeply shadowed darkness. “Holy mother.” Colin felt around along the wall, searching for a light switch. It has to be an attic. He turned in a circle, using his eyes to look for something that would trip a light, but could find nothing. Damn. Wait. Colin ran out of the room and into Marek's, forewent the flashlight he knew was in the nightstand, and skidded to a stop at the man's bookshelf. Lifting his arms all the way up, his fingers caught on one of two lanterns he had noticed the other night; he

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pulled it down from where it sat on top of the bookshelf and examined its modern design. He immediately found a switch on the bottom, flipped it, and a bluish white bulb glowed straight up and down from the center of the glass enclosure. “Yes, I thought so.” When Colin spotted it the other night, he had thought it looked too modern to be an antique oil lamp or something just for decoration. A very practical man lives in the body of my Marek. Kissing the enamel-covered top in victory, Colin raced back to the second bedroom and, with light now in hand, carefully climbed the stairs. They didn't groan or squeak in the slightest, but dust did puff up, and particles danced in the beam of light. Colin reached the top and emerged from the floor into a cavernous room. Holding his lantern aloft, he moved around the room with slanted ceilings, where lines of open beams cut from one side of the space to the other. He paused at a darkened round window sitting high on the back wall of the house and ran his fingers over the glass, coming away with dust but no streak of sunlight for his effort. The buildup of muck was clearly on the outside. Everywhere Colin shifted or pointed his lantern, a circle of light put a spotlight on a large, open, completely empty room. No secrets up here. “Damn.” Colin coughed as he breathed in a layer of dust. He inhaled, and his throat and nostrils filled with more grit. Moving back to the window, he stood on his toes, grabbed at a handle on the frame, and pulled. It didn't budge. Colin put down his lantern, used both hands, and with strength and clenched teeth, the handle released with a screech. The round window protested but shifted, opening inward a bit at a time, slowly letting in daylight, until it opened as much as it would go and fresh air breezed into the attic. “There.” With his face up to the window, he sucked in clean air. “That's better.” Colin turned and was about to swing his hand down to grab the lantern when a band of light flickered over the edge of the beam closest to the window, and the sight of a small bundle tucked in at the edge stopped his heart. “What the hell?” Colin moved closer and raised his arm as high as he could, but his fingers didn't quite reach the beam. No way am I leaving whatever that is up there. He backed up a dozen feet or so away from the beam, gave himself a running start and leaped in the air, smacking his hand up against the wood as high as he could. His palm knocked the bundle with a solid hit, and it crashed to the floor with a thud. Dropping to his knees, Colin touched his fingers over the soft leather of a satchel that looked to be no more than eight by eight in size. He turned it over and noticed a metal buckle held the bag closed. His heart racing and his fingers unsteady, Colin opened the bag and withdrew the contents, laying them out side by side on the floor. Three leatherbound volumes and one tiny painting, done on canvas but unframed, set the tingling in his blood to a full-on roar. The painting was a simple rendition of this house with its fancy blue tile roof and gleaming red door.

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Breathing, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself, only when he was ready did Colin open his eyes and turn back the cover of the first book. I knew it. Flipping through the first few pages, Colin searched for a name to identify the owner of the diaries, and it didn't take long. The third entry started… “I met a man tonight. His name is Stewart.” “Beatrice.” Colin spoke the name with reverence and care. His legs buzzing like crazy, Colin crawled to the wall and leaned back against it. He rubbed the wood, and heat settled into his palm. “You somehow made him leave that door open earlier, didn't you? This is what you wanted me to find, isn't it?” Sitting down on the floor next to the lantern, right under the window, Colin flipped back to the first page and started to read.

***** A few hours later, Marek jogged up to the house from the beach, no Colin at his side. For a couple of minutes after stepping outside to tell Colin it was time to start getting ready to leave, Marek had raced up and down the beach shouting the man's name, panicking when he couldn't find Colin anywhere. Marek forced himself to stop and think, realizing that no towel, book, or sunscreen lay anywhere in the sand or on the dock, so it was very unlikely Colin had gone for a swim and met with trouble. Still, Marek tore up the porch steps and rushed into his home, his heart thudding painfully as he checked all through the downstairs to no avail, calling Colin's name. Marek took the grand staircase three steps at a time. When he hit the second floor, Colin's voice reached him with an “I'm in the attic. Come up here.” “Be right there.” Thank you, God. Instead of rushing to Colin's side, Marek took hold of the stair railing and rested his weight into it, waiting for his breathing to return to a steadier pattern before he faced Colin. Marek wanted to blame his breathlessness on his run up and down the beach, but he knew the truth. For a second, when I couldn't find him, he scared the shit out of me. I thought I lost him. The truth rocked a shiver through Marek where he stood. This man was already so important to him he couldn't imagine a life without him. But it's not real because he doesn't know the whole truth. Marek scrubbed his face as the spontaneous, stupid choice from his youth reared its ugly head again, piling another layer of guilt on what he already carried in his heart every day. Now, every minute that passed with Colin in this house, Marek added an extra deception through omission of his sins. “Marek? Are you coming?” The muffle of Colin's voice reached him again. “I found something pretty spectacular.” Those words got Marek up and moving. “What?”

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He strode into the unused room and up the stairs, careful of his step in the shadows. There shouldn't be anything in the attic. Marek had only been up there briefly once, but it had been completely empty. He followed the ray of light as he emerged into the attic, and found Colin sitting on the floor under the window, a book in his hand. “What is that?” “You won't believe it.” Colin crossed his legs and leaned forward, and the light caught the excitement in his eyes. “It's Beatrice's diary.” “No shit.” Marek dropped to his knees and fingered the spine of the tome he held. “Seriously?” “I know. Right?” Colin leaned back against the wall and cocked his head to the side. “Although she is a young woman, and then eventually a married woman, so maybe I should call them her journals. It seems more adult and serious. There are three. I'm still on the first one because the writing is so tiny, and it has faded, and the scratch of the cursive handwriting is hard to make out in some pieces.” He turned the book around, holding it open so Marek could see the tight lines of text on the yellowed pages. Unable to help it, Marek lifted his hand and touched the flowing script, unduly fascinated by Colin's discovery. “Where did you find them?” “They were in this bag”—Colin held up a tooled brown leather satchel—“tucked in the corner of that beam.” He indicated up and to his right. “There was a small painting in the bag as well.” Down went the bag, and up came a tiny portrait of the house. Marek stared up to where Colin had pointed, his mind in a whirl. “What in the hell do you suppose they were doing up there?” “I don't know,” Colin answered. “I would tend to doubt Beatrice put them there herself, as I couldn't even reach it without jumping to knock it down. Of course, I suppose she might have had furniture up here and climbed up and down to retrieve the bag when she wanted it. But it was just her for such a long time so why hide them?” Sliding his finger into the book as a mark, Colin tucked the small journal to his chest. “I think it more likely, after she died, the realtor came in to clear out the house, and someone probably set it up there out of the way as they were cleaning and removing whatever was up here and then just forgot about it.” Marek arched a brow. “You could always go back and chat it up with the realtors again, see if they know what was here when Beatrice passed, and what their father removed.” “I already thought about that,” Colin said. A frown pulled at his mouth. “But they might stake a claim or want ownership of the stuff, and I don't want to give it up.” He clutched the book even tighter to his body. Of course. “Then as the owner of this house, and thus I would think all of the contents within, I say go ahead and hang onto it and keep your mystery.”

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“Thank you.” Colin smiled so big Marek would have thought he had just offered the man a million dollars. But Marek already knew, for Colin, these little treasures connected to this house were a thousand times more wanted and valued than money. Shifting to a more comfortable position, Marek leaned in and pried the book away from Colin's chest. He opened it, but left it in Colin's capable hands. “Have you discovered anything interesting about our Beatrice and Stewart thus far?” he asked. “Yes.” The man practically jumped to attention and saluted. “Okay, so this first journal starts with Beatrice's journey to Australia. She is the friend of a wealthy young woman, Minnie, and acts as a traveling companion for her during the month-long trip; Minnie's father is in Australia to learn about and possibly invest in a huge ranching operation. The girls are nineteen. Anyway, on the third night in Australia, they all attend this big fancy party. Stewart is there, and Beatrice finds him very attractive from the moment she sets eyes on him. She keeps searching for where he is the entire evening and eventually manages to get right beside where he is engaging in a conversation with some other people.” “Enterprising young woman.” Marek grinned, responding to the little-kid joy in Colin's voice. “Good for her.” “Right. Well, turns out everything is almost ruined before it can begin.” “What happened?” “Beatrice overhears Stewart talking with great confidence and authority about something to do with agriculture; I couldn't quite figure out what the talk was about exactly. Anyway, she knows what he's saying is wrong, and in her head, she's lecturing herself to keep her mouth shut, but that's not who she is, so she ends up butting into the conversation and correcting him. Very nicely and with respect, she insists.” “Absolutely,” Marek agreed, his voice sage. “She had a crush on him already, after all.” Colin crossed his arms and pulled a funny face. “And now you're humoring me.” “No, I'm not. I swear. I really am interested.” Marek forced his face and voice to sober. “Go on.” “Okay, so Stewart heartily disagrees with her, insisting he's right. Beatrice knows he isn't. She's quite certain. So much so that she knows Minnie's father can answer the question with authority and dares Stewart to go to the man and settle their disagreement once and for all. Stewart very confidently agrees, and the whole entourage that has gathered to hear this dispute follows along.” Colin stopped, and the soft light captured the twinkle in his green eyes. “Who do you think turned out to be right?” “I'm going to guess since you're reading Beatrice's journal that she was the victor.” Colin nodded. “Indeed she was. And with that win, and the raucous ribbing Stewart took from the other men at the party afterward, Beatrice figured a man put in place in public by a woman wasn't likely to ever seek out that woman for conversation again.”

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“But he did.” “The very next morning, in fact,” Colin shared. Such pride filled his voice Marek would have thought Colin a direct descendant of Stewart's, if he didn't know better. “Stewart was a big, brash man. He located the house the family was renting for the month and walked right up to the front door, knocked, and asked Beatrice to accompany him out for a meal.” Marek scooted in closer and spread his legs on either side of Colin, seeking additional intimacy. His body rolled with tension, and he knew he was getting caught up in the story. “Would that have been proper back then?” he asked. Colin shrugged. “I don't know, but Minnie's father wasn't home, and Minnie and a maid went with them, so I guess in that sense it wasn't too scandalous.” He put the journal down in his lap and laid his hands to rest on Marek's thighs, squeezing. “Turns out Stewart got a charge out of Beatrice challenging him, and he appreciated her balls.” “Well…” “You know what I mean.” Colin pushed at Marek and smacked his leg. “You see, at that point, Stewart only owned one sugarcane plantation and not a terribly large, profitable one at that. He had big plans, though, and he knew any woman he brought into his life would need to be strong and willing to suffer through some lean times before he would be able to put her in a grand house and give her the world. Stewart was a bit of a gambler, you see, and probably shouldn't even have been let into that fancy party. Turns out, he didn't have an invitation. When Minnie's father found out Beatrice had been stepping out with Stewart, he forbade her to see him again, calling him an upstart, coarse, and unworthy of Beatrice's time. By that point, Stewart had already charmed the knickers off Beatrice—not literally, but emotionally—and she was in love with him. In the middle of the night, Beatrice slipped out of the house and went to Stewart. When she told him what happened, Stewart told her to stay with him in Australia, and he married her shortly thereafter. She only saw Minnie one more time, when she went back to the house to get her clothes. She never went back to America.” “Man, that's quite a story.” Marek whistled, and the sound echoed in the attic. “Beatrice made a bold, risky choice.” “She trusted her gut. They did go through hard times and had very little in terms of money and lifestyle for a while, but then Stewart acquired a second sugarcane operation, this one in Fiji, as a win in an all-night card game, and they never looked back.” Colin's smile altered from exuberant to wistful. “From what I can understand in these journals, Beatrice truly was Stewart's partner in every way. She believed in him and encouraged him, and in turn, he sought her advice regularly and she gave it to him openly, never fearing he would dismiss her thoughts and opinions because she was a woman.” Opening the journal to the back third, Colin smoothed his hands over the text. “I'm only up to the part where Stewart has finally hit it big with taking over a third huge operation that was mismanaged, and he has asked Beatrice once again to describe her dream house, because he's going to build it for her, in Fiji, using the profits he's going to earn from this next venture.” Colin brushed his hand along the dusty wall and

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floor, and Marek figured the man somehow felt the house again. “They haven't actually broken ground on the land for the house yet, at the point where I stopped reading.” “So it's not exactly the story of wealthy newlyweds that floats around Fiji, but the gist of it is in fact quite close.” “People often like to leave the part out about the hard work that comes first in anything.” Colin picked up the painting of the house and handed it to Marek. “Once Beatrice described the house, Stewart painted this rudimentary likeness of what she envisioned, added what he wanted as his touches, and scrawled a note on the back.” He tapped the edge of the canvas. “Take a look.” Marek turned the small painting to its back side and grabbed the lantern so he could read the faded words. This will be yours by our next wedding anniversary. I promise you. You gave me your heart, and I give you your dream. One fancy red door included. My love forever, Stewart. Looking up after reading, Marek said, “That's nice.” Colin's face suddenly scrunched in puzzlement, and he grabbed the picture out of Marek's hand. He studied the painting intently, and his finger rubbed back and forth over the patch of red. “A red door, a red door, a red door.” Suddenly, Colin froze. “Oh my God.” He looked up, and it was like a whole new level of understanding and awareness deepened his gaze. “We talked about this once. You wanted a red door too.” Oh no. “I remember now,” Colin went on. “Son of a bitch. I can't believe I forgot. I can't believe it didn't come back to me the first time I saw you again.” Colin held the picture up and tapped his finger against the small red rectangle that represented the door. “Remember that day?” I remember every detail like it was yesterday. I can never forget. As Colin shared his half of the memory of that tiny, insignificant, best conversation in Marek's whole teenage life, Marek closed his eyes and relived it…

***** “Bye.” Peter Sumter shook Marek's hand. “Thanks again for everything. You have a great evening.” Marek stood on the stoop of the Sumters' house with Peter just over the threshold. “I will.” Marek dipped his head, and his overlong hair fell in his eyes. Pushing it behind his ears, he said, “Thank you. I'll be here around ten on Saturday morning. Okay?” “Sounds good.” Three kids of varying heights, two boys and one girl, all surrounded their father's legs and poked their heads out the front door. “Bye, Marek!” and “See ya, Marek!” and “I wanna play cars with you!” all came respectively out of mouths, from oldest to youngest.

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“Bye, guys.” Marek waved at the two oldest but stooped down to the four-yearold's level and stuck out his hand. “We'll definitely play cars next time. I promise. Deal?” Rather than shaking on it, the youngest child smashed down on Marek's hand with a super hard high five. “Deal!” “Okay, kids.” Peter had a lecturing tone to his voice. “Marek has to go home now, and you guys need to go wash your hands and faces for dinner.” The kids grumbled. “Come on, guys,” Mr. Sumter pleaded. “Marek will be back soon enough. Give him a chance to miss you.” The kids all gave Marek another enthusiastic round of good-byes, then untangled themselves from their dad's legs and disappeared into the house without further complaint. “Sure you don't want to stay for dinner?” Peter asked. “Joan always makes plenty extra, and you know you're always welcome.” The tangy scent of barbecue wafted through the air and created a silent rumble in Marek's stomach. Barbecue sandwiches were enticing enough all on their own, without the prospect of sharing it with a nice, kind family like the Sumters. Marek could see himself sitting down at their table and never getting back up; he liked being at this house that much. You can't invade their lives just because yours sucks. “Thanks anyway,” Marek finally answered. “I should get home.” “Maybe next time,” Peter said. “See you Saturday.” He closed the door, leaving Marek standing on the porch alone. One red door separated him from a lovely dinner with a fantastic group of people. People who don't belong to you, Donovan; stop confusing work with your wishes for a sweet, supportive family to come home to every night. This is not your life. Still, Marek stood staring at the door for a drawn-out moment and even lifted his hand to knock, wanting to reverse his decision about dinner. With his knuckles poised an inch away from the red painted wood, he dropped his hand to his side. He spun away before he changed his mind again…and his gaze collided with Colin Baxter's. The guy watched Marek from the sidewalk. What the fuck is he doing here? Colin didn't live in this nice neighborhood any more than Marek did. Heat burned Marek's face; he quickly looked down and made a production out of adjusting the straps on his backpack before slinging it over one shoulder. He could still see Colin's sneakers and jean-clad legs from his stooped vantage point, not moving down the sidewalk one bit. Great. Straightening up, Marek affected his best indifferent walk down the driveway and came to a stop at Colin's side. He forced himself to make

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eye contact, and tried not to notice how attractive Colin was or that he had the nicest green eyes Marek had ever seen. Marek tore the connection away before Colin could accuse him of staring. “Hey.” He gave his standard greeting. “Hey.” Colin looked up at Marek, using his hand to shade his eyes from the late afternoon sun. “How's it going?” “Okay, I guess.” Marek shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and the tentacles of discomfort within burrowed to the point where he blurted out, “What are you doing here?” Colin's stare narrowed and then grew big and round. “Oh God. I wasn't stalking you or anything. Sorry. I was studying with a friend.” He pointed at the house two down and across the street. “I'm heading home now.” “Oh. Okay.” Suddenly, Marek didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. A cute boy checking him out wouldn't be a bad thing, especially if he had the same kinds of fantasies Marek did. Don't even think about that unless you want to get the crap beaten out of you the second you walk in the house. Marek's gaze slid back to the red door, and his chest squeezed at the safety and acceptance he knew existed for those kids inside. Colin tapped his sneaker against Marek's boot, gaining his full attention. “You heading home?” “Yeah.” “Me too.” Colin's smile halted midway, and his face filled with color. “Which…I said already. Duh.” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “You cool with us walking together?” Marek didn't exactly hang out with Colin, but… “Uh…okay.” “Cool.” Colin started walking, and Marek fell in step beside him. “So”—Colin shoved his hands into his pockets—“what were you doing over here? Are those people family or something?” Glancing to the side, Marek traded a look with Colin. Their attention caught and held for a moment before they both looked away. “No-I'm-the-babysitter,” spilled out of Marek in a rush. “Really?” Colin's voice rose comically high. “Sorry,” he said again quickly. “I wasn't laughing.” “I didn't start out doing it,” Marek covered quickly, defending himself. “I did their lawn, which I still do.” “Seems like you do more than that now.” Colin looked Marek's way, and they made fast eye contact again before jerking away and staring straight ahead once more. When Colin spoke again, his voice dropped, and wavered a bit. “I was staring earlier,” he admitted. “I stopped because I could hear the kids all the way from the street. They sound like they like you.”

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Marek shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders forward. “I guess they think I'm okay.” “It was just surprising, you know? Because…” With a quick look in Marek's direction, Colin darted his focus straight ahead again and shrugged. “…I don't know. You seemed different back there.” “Yeah.” Marek knew what Colin meant, but he didn't know what else to say. He knew his brother's reputation as a jackass rat bastard smeared onto him because of their two-year age difference and similar physical features. Marek tended to keep quiet, and his head down low, on his own, just as a general rule. A few years ago, when Marek realized he liked other boys, he kept to himself in an effort to hide his attraction to his own sex. He knew the picture people had of him wasn't entirely his brother's fault; he accepted his own behavior added to the distant, cold person others thought they saw in him. “How'd you go from mowing the yard to taking care of the kids?” Colin asked, pulling Marek's attention back to him. “I was there mowing one Saturday, and the Sumters' sitter cancelled on them at the last minute. They were going to a wake or a funeral or something. I came to the door to let them know I was finished and to get paid, and they asked me if could help them out and said they would pay me extra for the inconvenience. I'd already been mowing their lawn for almost a year, so I guess Peter and Joan trusted me. I was nervous to be alone with the kids, but I did it. It went good. I liked helping them out.” Marek shrugged, out of steam. Christ, he hadn't spoken so much to one person, without his nerves constantly sitting at the alert cautioning him to silence, ever before. “So you got a new job out of it. Yeah?” Colin smiled, and Marek found himself doing the same. “Next time they needed a sitter, they just asked me instead of the girl.” Pride filled Marek, as it had done the first and every time since the Sumters trusted him with the protection of their children. Fear of nasty comments and reprisals kept Marek from talking about his part-time job with other people, but right now, with Colin, the words just spilled out of him. “About three months ago, Joan went back to college, and they asked me to make it a regular gig after school. When I get out of class, I take a bus and go pick the two older kids up from school. We walk home together. They're right over at Blake Elementary.” “Right, I know it,” Colin said. “That's where my little sister goes.” Both boys paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the go sign. One road in Henderson—this road—separated the upper-middle-class homes from the lowermiddle-class ones. For Marek, so much more than just a street made his life drastically different from what he knew existed for the Sumter kids. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, damn it. Marek shook himself out of his pity party and chanced another glance at Colin. “The kids don't mind walking,” he shared. The crosswalk sign shifted to green, and the

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two boys booked it across the busy street before the red stop signal started to flash. “The little one goes to daycare so I don't watch him unless it's a special occasion and Peter and Joan are going out for dinner or a party or something.” “Sounds like you like it.” “I do,” Marek agreed without hesitation. “There's a lot of love behind that red door.” The words just slipped out, and Marek skidded to a halt, stricken. “I mean—” He chanced a look at Colin, and the softening of the other boy's knowing green gaze said everything. He heard the pussy-ass longing in my voice. “Shit. If you—” Colin immediately held up a hand. “It's okay. I promise.” He faced Marek deadon, looked right at him, and did not waver as he spoke. “I swear I won't tell anyone you secretly like babysitting. You like them, and they like you. So what? Right?” Caught up in Colin's easy acceptance, Marek very nearly leaned in and brushed a kiss on the other boy's lips. “Shit.” He ripped his gaze away and started walking. Catching up the half dozen steps to Marek's side, Colin said, “I can tell you don't want anyone to know you dig your job. That's cool. They won't hear it from me.” He didn't pick up on what almost just happened. Thank God. Marek started breathing easier once again. “There's something about them, you know?” He couldn't keep his defense of the Sumters out of his voice. After bottling up virtually all conversation about anything important to him, Marek couldn't seem to shut up with this boy. It was so very risky, but something in Colin's eyes said Marek could believe him; the guy would never sell him out. “When I knocked on their door the first time, Mr. Sumter treated me real nice, right from the start. He talked to me, and we negotiated a price for my services like I was a person who was equal to him. The first time I saw them as a group they came out of their house all together, laughing and just being this awesome picture of a cool family. I'm not saying they're perfect or anything; I've seen them fight, and the kids misbehave and get punished sometimes, but the parents don't talk down to each other, or to their kids. I've never seen Peter or Joan call them names or ignore them. They talk to the kids like what they say matters. It's a rare thing, I think. But then on top of that, I also think why shouldn't it be just like that for everybody.” “Agreed.” Colin looked up, his face sober. “On both counts.” “I want a house like them one day.” Marek confessed his most secret desire. “With a bright red door that makes a person feel cheerful and upbeat the second they see it, a door that reflects a loving family living inside.” “That's a nice thing to wish for.” Marek grabbed Colin's arm and spun him around. “You think so?” He searched Colin's eyes, his demeanor, terrified he would find deception or subterfuge somewhere inside the guy. He looked, but his shit detector remained silent. Fuck me. “You really don't think it's stupid?” he asked, unable to believe it. “No.” Puzzlement pulled at Colin's eyebrows. He burrowed his hands under the straps of his backpack and shifted the weight. “Shit, I'm working my ass off studying with the smartest kid in school—that would be Jenna Fuller, whose house I was just

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at—trying to make sure I have good enough grades for college and then working at Gino's so I can afford the difference if I do eventually get in somewhere. Do you think my goal sounds stupid?” “No.” “Then why would I think yours is dumb?” Marek stared at the question and challenge in Colin's eyes for a long time—too long—and felt his groin twitch. Oh, no no no. “Okay, so I believe you.” Marek spun away and put his legs to moving. Search for safe conversation. “What were you studying at Jenna's house?” Colin laughed, and Marek started breathing easier. “What wasn't I studying might be a better question.” The conversation went on from there with easy topics that didn't challenge Marek's secrets and privacy again, and by the time they parted ways, Marek was laughing uproariously at some stupid joke Colin told, having the best time of his life. Unfortunately, some other guys saw them, and Marek's conversation with those boys right after changed everything again. And destroyed Colin's world in the process.

***** Fingers snapped in front of Marek's face, jerking him out of his memories and back into the attic. Colin leaned his elbow on his bent leg, and his eyes still looked like they tracked backward in time. “I can't believe I forgot about the walk we shared that day.” Marek cleared his throat, swallowing the full answer to his query. “I think…I imagine what happened to you so close afterward takes up most of your memories of that time in your life.” The half truth nearly choked Marek as it came out. “Good point.” Colin nodded. “The assault did take over my world and eclipse everything else around it for quite a long time.” His slouch against the wall suddenly went away. He held Marek's leg, studying him intently. “But you remembered the walk and conversation we had that day the entire time I've been here, didn't you?” “Yeah.” Roughness filled that one word; the emotions of the memory—and what came after—still held Marek captive. “I thought that was probably why you were seeing a red door in your dreams, but it doesn't explain other aspects of your visions—” Marek couldn't take that comment any further without outright lying. “I didn't know what to say.” “Maybe you were embarrassed about what you confessed so long ago.” Colin's hand traveled up from Marek's leg and caressed his arm with a comforting touch. “And maybe you didn't want to tell me that was the reason why you had the red door on this house torn down before you moved in? Because it didn't represent what you always hoped it would?”

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Marek cleared more thickness from his voice before he could speak again. “That played a part.” “Did you ever tell Payton about your dream for a house with a red door?” Colin asked. “And about what it meant to you?” “No.” “Why not?” “I wasn't open, so I couldn't give it to him. It would have been cruel to dangle a dream in front of him, but then go and say, 'But I'm not going to give it to you, because I'm never going to come out of the closet and share a house with another man.'“ Marek could feel his face twist into a sneer. “It was wishful thinking from a sullen kid with a crappy home life looking to latch onto something positive. It didn't mean anything. I knew I was gay, and I already knew I never wanted anyone to know, so that pretty much killed the integrity of the dream before it even began.” “Still, it was a nice senti—Oh fucking shit!” Colin grabbed Marek's forearm and yanked his watch close. “We are supposed to be sitting down for lunch with Jordan and Tag right this second.” He grabbed the journals, painting, and satchel, hopped to his feet, and ran for the stairs. “You jump in the shower first, and I'll go call Jordan to let her know we're gonna be late.” Colin disappeared a few steps down, but stopped with his head still peeking out of the opening. “Oh, and close that window for me too, please?” His voice was sweetly ordering. “Hurry!” What just happened? Marek closed the window and grabbed the lantern off the floor. He followed and got ready for lunch, but he couldn't shake the heaviness weighing on his heart and conscience.

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Chapter Sixteen “Colin is the one who suggested Fiji for our wedding, even though he swears he didn't know why at the time,” Jordan shared. She lifted her umbrella drink in Marek's direction, using it as a pointer. “I think subconsciously he knew you and that house were here. You should have seen his face when he saw your place right there in front of his eyes. Colin is the biggest, sappiest, most romantic guy I know. He wants everybody to be in love.” “I am not! I do not.” Outrage filled Colin's voice and got Marek sitting up straighter in his chair. “Take that back,” he demanded. “I will not.” Jordan put down her drink and jabbed her short, pink-painted fingernail into the table surface. “Who got me to go out with Tag a second time? Who told me I could trust him and that he wouldn't run away at the first sign of trouble? Who told me I would regret it if I had the wedding everyone else wanted instead of what felt right to me? Hell, who got me to go back to Tag and talk to him when I ran screaming from the room when he proposed to me in the first place? Shoot”—she covered Tag's hand and snorted—“you should take at least partial credit for every blowjob and fuck this sweet man gets from me.” Marek gasped and widened his eyes. Thank God he didn't have any food or drink in his mouth or he would have spit it halfway across the table. He shifted in his chair and looked around the outdoor dining area of the hotel, relieved to find the place nearly empty and the closest people some twenty feet away. Tag tapped Marek's shoulder, got Marek's attention, and shook his head with a defeatist look. “Let go of your embarrassment right now, man,” he said. “They talk like this all the time. Well, Jordan mostly. She has a mouth that would make the saltiest cowboy blush.” Jordan punched her husband in the arm. “Hey.”

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“Ow, woman.” Tag rubbed over the spot where Jordan had hit him. “You didn't let me finish.” He lifted their linked hands and pressed a kiss to his wife's wedding band. “I was going to add that I've developed an addiction to the flavor, and I never want to detox.” Colin groaned and made a gagging noise. “And I'm the one you call sappy and romantic?” “You're right.” Jordan leaned over the arm of her chair and planted a kiss on Tag's lips. “He definitely wins.” She moved in for another peck, and Tag slid his hand into her auburn hair, holding her close to deepen the kiss. Marek looked away, giving the couple a moment of privacy. His gaze caught on Colin's, and Colin offered a smile. Marek smiled back; he couldn't help it even though he felt acutely on display. Had from the moment he sat down for lunch. His eyes going all soft, Colin moved close and put his mouth to Marek's ear. “You doing all right?” He kept his voice low. “You've been quiet.” Just. Be. Cool. “I'm fine.” Damn it. Marek would not ruin Colin's lunch date. He could sense how badly the man wanted everybody to get along. “I'm enjoying listening to you guys talk.” Colin narrowed an assessing stare on Marek. “We can go if you're ready,” he insisted. “No. It's okay.” Marek dipped down and brushed a kiss against Colin's cheek. “Finish your drink. I'm fine.” Jordan jabbed Colin just as hard as she had her husband a moment ago. “The man says he's fine, Col. Let him be.” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow at him. “Or I might start calling you Mom.” “Not unless you want me to start nagging you about when you're going to start a family,” Colin shot back with a flash of a smile. “Geez.” Jordan touched her yoga- and Pilates-trim stomach. “Let a girl finish her honeymoon first.” “A recklessly planned honeymoon ca—” Jordan clamped her hand over Colin's mouth and turned chocolate brown eyes on her husband and Marek. “Enough from us. I think it's you guys' turn to talk.” Tag took a long drag on his beer. “Okay. That's my cue.” He shifted in his chair, crossed his ankle on his knee, and settled in. “Tell me a little something about your boat, Marek. It isn't a bad drive from Austin to the Gulf Coast, and I wouldn't mind being able to afford one myself some day. Give me some dos and don'ts to keep in mind for the future.” All eyes on him, Marek felt another trickle of sweat run down his back that didn't have a damn thing to do with the heat and sun. “All right.” He scratched his jaw and never wished so hard for his beard back. “Well…”

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Marek went through the pros and cons of the vessel he owned, answering questions from both Tag and Jordan along the way. They talked about a boat, but through this entire conversation—as well as every single other previous minute he had sat with these people during lunch—Marek didn't for one second forget Jordan and Tag were assessing him and deciding if he was a quality person and worthy of their friend. Marek made nice as best he could and tried to blend into the role of listener as much as possible, but the judging glances kept him tense and on the edge of his seat the entire time, feeling like a fraud. They would surely want to throw him right over the side of his boat into the ocean if they knew the truth. If they knew Marek had caused their best friend the worst pain and fear in his life. Traitor. Fool. Coward. All worthy titles Marek bestowed on himself. He kept talking, though, all the while, guilt strangled him inside.

***** Marek opened the front door and headed right for the kitchen. Christ, he needed a drink. Being the designated driver, he'd only had fruit juice and water during lunch. With the way his nerves had jumped under the constant, watchful eyes of Jordan and Tag, Marek constantly found his gaze drifting to Colin's glass of wine, wishing for a sip. Or a gulp. Or the entire bottle. He pulled open the fridge door, grabbed a beer, and twisted off the cap, taking a fast swig of the dark lager before tossing the top into the trash. Marek had the bottle midway to his mouth for another drink when his attention snagged on Colin across the room. His beer forgotten, Marek couldn't tear his gaze away from the sexy, windblown man. Colin held at the entrance to the kitchen. He slipped his hands in his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the dark wood frame. Watching Marek from his position, Colin's eyes were so open and goddamned guileless Marek almost couldn't bear to see it. “Thank you for coming with me,” Colin said, his voice a near hush. “I know it can be awkward to sit down with people you don't really know.” Marek cleared his throat with a drag on his beer. “No problem. Your friends are good people.” He forced a tight smile to his lips. “You're very funny with Jordan.” “Yeah, she's great. They both are.” Colin pushed off the doorjamb and moved into the kitchen with a slow, steady grace, pausing some four feet away at the butcher island. He ran his finger along the edge of the wood, but kept his head tilted, watching Marek the whole time. “Do you know what I was thinking about half the time during lunch?” Colin's seductive, probing stare raised more hairs on the back of Marek's neck than Jordan and Tag's scrutiny had done combined. “That you wished you'd brought Beatrice's journals with you so you could keep reading them?”

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Chuckling, Colin said, “Yeah, I suppose that was the second half of what I was thinking about.” He turned and stalked right up to Marek, and Marek automatically pushed backward, jamming his lower back into the counter. Colin planted his hands on either side of Marek and leaned in, stopping with barely a sliver of breathing space between their mouths. “But the other half”—Colin's nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, nearly eclipsing the green—“was spent wondering how fast I'd get arrested if I took out your cock, sat on your lap, and rode your thick prick right in that wicker chair, in front of everybody, until we both screamed and came.” “Jesus, Colin.” Marek's throat convulsed, and his cock pushed against his jeans, leaking already. This man turned him on and twisted his insides upside down faster than anyone he had ever known. “The way your mind works…” “No.” Colin dipped his tongue out, licked Marek's lips, and darted back inside. “What you provoke in me.” He rubbed his groin into Marek and scraped their mouths together, barely hinting at a kiss. Pulling back, he looked into Marek's eyes, and the depth and heat stole Marek's breath away. “I want you.” Falling fast, dangerously so, Marek whispered gutturally, “Then take me.” He closed the inches between them and opened his mouth over Colin's, diving headfirst into a kiss mired in need. Colin moaned and tangled his tongue wildly with Marek's, lending a frantic, even violent bent, with fingers digging into hair and scratching scalp as he yanked Marek closer. Marek welcomed the heightened passion and grabbed Colin's hips, grinding their cocks together and losing himself in the sheer joy of this man. He nipped Colin's lower lip and skated the flat of his palm around to the small of his back. Slipping under the hem of his shirt, Marek rubbed the curvature, pushed his fingers down to caress the cleft of Colin's ass, and drew forth a tremble. “God, Marek.” Colin separated their mouths just a hair and touched the tips of his fingers over Marek's sensitized lips. His eyes shone bright in the first shadows of evening, and Marek swore he could see right into Colin's soul. “I am so in love with you.” Marek jerked and felt stabbed in the gut. No. Not yet. Not right now. He pushed away from Colin and made it the few feet to the center island on shaky legs. “You're not in love with me.” He leaned his weight on the butcher-block surface, his back to Colin, and tried to control his racing heart and uneven breathing. “You don't know me.” “Shit.” Out of the corner of his eye, Marek saw Colin tunnel his fingers through his hair. “I didn't plan to blurt that out right then. I'm sorry if it freaked you out. But you have to understand, I do know you, and I know how I feel.” Marek sensed Colin step in behind him, and the man's warmth rubbed Marek's open wounds raw. “I have been with you in my dreams for two years,” he said. “I may not have known your face, but I know your pain and I know your heart. You've only known me again for a week, but I've felt your presence for such a long time that it's different for me.” Colin placed his hand on Marek's shoulder, burning him with the lie still standing between them. The craziness and half stories that had been pushing at Marek from the

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second he laid eyes on Colin again erupted, and he spun around, knocking Colin's hand off him. “Do you want to know what you've 'felt' for two goddamn years?” Marek raged, and barely held on to the frayed edges of rope keeping him from drowning. “You felt my fucking guilt, Colin. That's what you felt.” Sympathy replaced desire in Colin's eyes. “I know, baby. What happened to Payton—” Marek laughed, and it sounded a little hysterical to his ears. “Oh, yeah, that's right; let's not forget about Payton. There's a shitload of my mistakes to go around, and plenty of my guilt is for not being there for Pay when he needed me most.” Every fiber in Marek's being coiled with panic and fear, and his throat constricted so much he could barely form audible sentences. “But that's not what I'm talking about. You want your answer as to why this house chose you, if it really did? It picked you because my guilt about you eats at me every day, and it only got worse when Payton died and I came here.” Colin took a step back, his brow furrowing. “I don't understand.” His voice wobbled, and the new fear in him cut Marek up inside. I can't run from it anymore. His heart cracking, Marek finally spoke the words that would lose him everything. “I'm the one who told those guys you were gay all those years ago. I caused your assault.” Marek's words sucked the air right out of Colin's world. “What?” No. No way. Colin wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the pain of his attack like it was yesterday. “What do you mean you caused my beating? You barely knew me.” All these years, Colin had been so certain the one person he'd told of his feelings for other boys—Jenna Fuller—had let it slip out, surely by accident, even though she always denied having done so. “How did you even know?” “I'm so sorry.” Marek reached out and curled his hand around Colin's neck, tugging him in. “Colin… Please.” “No.” Colin spun away and put up the stop sign with his hands. “Don't touch me.” He felt like he and Marek were in a carnival mirror, and everything around them pulled backward and mutated into strange, unnatural proportions. Colin's stomach churned, but he swallowed the bile and forced himself to look at Marek. “Tell me what you did. Tell me how you even knew I was gay.” Marek heaved a deep breath and put his hand to his chest. “That's what makes it worse, if that's possible.” Wetness rimmed Marek's eyes, and Colin steeled himself not to care. “I didn't know. I threw you under the bus without any real proof. Not that proof would have made it okay.” “That doesn't make any sense.” “It happened that day you remembered earlier, where we walked home from the Sumters together. Up to that point in my life, that was probably the best half hour I ever

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experienced, talking with you, for some reason saying stuff I never would have said to another person. By the time we parted ways at the end of my block, we were having a good time, remember?” Colin nodded with a sharp jerk. “Yeah.” “Right.” Marek attempted a smile, but it didn't quite happen. “I was doing some stuff on purpose, you know? Leaning into you, touching my shoulder to you, just because I liked the way I felt with you, and I wanted to be closer to you. I was covering it by laughing so hard, making you think I was falling over at your jokes, but I was really trying to make it seem like touching your shoulder and arm was natural.” His gaze dropping, Colin stared at Marek's fingers splayed against the counter, and, for a moment, slipped back to being sixteen. “I did the same. I wanted to feel your skin, and I couldn't stop looking at your hands.” Long fingers, tan skin, blunt, cheweddown fingernails, calluses… All that time ago, Colin had wondered what those hands would feel like running over his body. Now he knew. Amazing. Shaking his head, Colin cleared out the fog of undeniable attraction and hardened his stare and heart. “Make your point. What does that have to do with anything?” “Nothing. Except when we separated at the end of the street, we weren't alone. You kept walking to your house to get ready for work; I headed down my street, and what's the first thing I see? Tiggs, Street, and Morales”—Marek mentioned three other guys who lived within the half dozen blocks of their neighborhood—“hanging right outside my house, waiting, and looking right at me. At us, just a second before.” “So?” Colin still couldn't see the connection. Marek paused and wiped his hand down his mouth and jaw to his throat. He turned and paced to the table, holding there silently for a long moment. Abruptly, he turned around and strode back to Colin, his blue eyes still unnaturally bright. “Shit, Colin, I didn't even like those guys that much, but I grew up around them, and sometimes you hang out and shoot hoops if there isn't anything else happening, just because. That afternoon, I walked up to them sick as hell inside. I thought I was going to throw up because I knew I was attempting to flirt with you, even if you didn't know it, and I thought for sure they saw and figured me out. First thing Tiggs says when I reach them is 'Saw your little boyfriend there. Sure looked like you were having a good time.' Then Morales gets in a few with, 'Think he'll let you fuck him if you buy him a burger? Or maybe he has already, and that's why you were smiling.' Street's getting his shots in too, and I'm just getting more and more paranoid with every word they say.” Marek locked his hands behind his neck, his eyes bleak. “Looking back now, I can see they were yanking my chain and harassing me a little bit just to have something to do. Straight guys call other straight guys gay all the time when they're trying to needle them and get a reaction, figuring it's a pretty effective insult. They didn't know anything; they were just being dicks. But at the time, Christ, Colin, I was so panicked and scared they saw the truth I had tried so hard to hide. After all, I did want what they were teasing me about. I fantasized every night about kissing another guy or touching

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his cock or him touching mine. Shit, Morales was an asshole, but he was so fucking hot I'd thought about him naked and imagined myself giving him a blowjob more than once. And there he was, standing there with his buddies, hinting at things that, deep down, I really did want. I thought for sure they saw something in me, and I was so terrified it would get back to my brother or parents, and that I would be dead, so I unloaded every bit of homophobic shit I could on you.” Colin's head spun dizzily. “Why would you do that?” He could not wrap his brain around what Marek shared. “To cover my own ass!” Marek looked off balance, as if he slipped back to reliving the fear and emotions of that day right in this kitchen. “To shift the focus off me; I didn't care how. It didn't even make any sense, but all I could hear in my head was the word 'boyfriend' from them, about me, and I knew I had to get the stink of it away from me.” Marek shook, and his face paled with every layer of confession. “I said you were the queer, and that I was just being a good guy by talking to you because we crossed paths on the way home. I told them you wouldn't stop talking, though, and making jokes, and that I thought you were trying to hit on me, and I was pretending I didn't notice until I could get away from you.” Night edged deeper and deeper into the kitchen, but neither man moved to switch on a light. “I even embellished more and said I thought I'd caught you staring at me before, and now I knew why, and now that I was thinking about it, I think you might have been waiting for me so it wouldn't look like a big deal if you asked to walk home together. I'm so sorry.” Marek's voice was thick and raw. “I loved that walk, but less than five minutes later, I twisted it and mutilated it and turned it into the start of something brutal and ugly. I'm so sorry I got you hurt.” Colin swiped an answering tear from the corner of his eye, but at the same time fought a growing ball of anger edging its way into his core. “Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell me the rest.” “Right.” Straightening, Marek's jaw ticked, but he kept going. “I told the guys I was going to steer clear of you from then on, because I didn't want to worry about some fag trying to kiss me, and that if you didn't leave me alone, I would have to do something to take care of you.” Hands curling into fists, Colin rumbled an animal noise and took a menacing step forward into Marek's space. “You told them you were going to beat me up?” “As good as.” Marek nodded. “Then, because I had to get away from them, I said I couldn't hang out and shoot hoops because I had a date with Jennifer Beecher.” He shook his head and looked up to the ceiling, and his Adam's apple bobbed in overtime. “I didn't even have a date set up with her, but I knew she liked me, and I needed to show I was with a girl. The second I got inside, I called her, and she was happy to pick me up.” Each sentence Marek spoke etched a haunting line on his face. “She was a nice person, and I used her to cover myself. I dated her until I moved away when I

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graduated a few months later. I made sure people—Tiggs, Street, and Morales, for sure—saw me making out with her.” “Oh my God.” Reeling, Colin slammed his fist into the counter, making both him and Marek jump. “You set the whole goddamn fucking thing in motion, and I never even put the two together. After we walked home together, the next day was when I started getting the whispers and name calling between classes and during lunch at school. I thought it was because of something Jenna said, but it was you.” Even as rage coiled in Colin, he still put his hand over his mouth and worked with every bit of willpower in him to keep the flood of emotion from pushing more tears to the surface. He couldn't let himself cry in front of this man anymore, so he yanked up his shirt and let the anger run free instead. “You did this to me!” He slapped his hand against his scar. Marek doubled over as if he'd been shot. “I know! I as good as knifed you myself.” Stripped bare of his secret, Marek's voice was raspy and raw. “I called you out on being gay a couple more times behind your back that week when the three of them kept up the comments. I gave them the ammunition to attack you.” Marek wiped his nose and red-rimmed eyes. “It was my fault.” “So you knew Tiggs, Street, and Morales were the ones who attacked me?” Colin almost couldn't breathe through the tumult of revelations. “And you did nothing to stop it?” Marek shot upright with new life and rushed to Colin, grabbing his hands. “No no no. Please.” He squeezed, crushing Colin's fingers. “I didn't know anything about the assault beforehand. I had no idea what was going on in their heads.” “But you had to know what you were planting there!” “I didn't think what I was saying through,” Marek cried with a ragged voice. “I just thought about myself and knew I needed to save myself from my parents figuring out the truth about me.” He looked like he battled throwing up right now. “When I heard about what happened to you, I was horrified and sick, and even though they didn't say anything about a hate crime in the papers right away, I knew what it was. I figured it must be Tiggs, Street, and Morales. I asked them about it, and they said they didn't know anything and were innocent, but the way they looked, I knew they were behind it.” Colin wrenched his hands out of Marek's grip and strode to the archway, needing space to breathe. “But you never told anybody what you knew. You never backed me up; you never went to the cops to help when I was getting nothing but a half-assed runaround investigation of my assault.” “I didn't have any proof, and I didn't know how to help you without turning a light on me. I was still too terrified about my parents and brother, and that scared the shit out of me more than anything else. Even more than making things right with you.” Lifting his attention from the floor, Colin met Marek's gaze. Sadness seeped out of every line and pore of Colin's body, overtaking the boiling rage. “I am such a fool. I

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thought you cared about me; I thought you liked me. Hell, I at least thought you respected me.” “I do.” Marek reached out and took a step forward. Colin stiffened, and Marek stopped in place. “I care about you so much. More than I ever thought possible for me again.” “No.” Colin shook his head, and the tears he had been trying to hold in so valiantly started to fall. “You would have said something before now, if you did. You've watched me struggle to figure out these dreams, to find answers, and you had this huge piece to them all along. Fucking hell, I admitted to you, with full embarrassment, that I have control issues, and that I've lost relationships in the past because I don't like to be in a situation where I'm unsure or uncertain about what is going to happen next. Yet all this week, you've had this knowledge inside you, while I slept with you and fell in love with you, completely unaware, and you never said anything.” Colin's voice broke. “How could you do that to me?” “At first I was so suspicious of your motives that I didn't want to tell you anything,” Marek explained. “Then you got under my skin, and I liked having you here, in this house, with me. I felt so close to you, I wanted to believe in your dreams and in how you feel about my house. I knew if I told you what I'd done, you would go away. But this piece of our history has been picking away at me a little bit more every minute we were together, and when you said you love me… I couldn't accept you saying that when you didn't have the full truth.” Marek looked as broken as Colin felt, and Colin could not tolerate this man's pain right now. Colin's chest hurt so much right at that moment he thought his heart didn't have enough space to hold his grief. “I can't look at you right now,” he whispered. “I have to get out of here.” “Wait!” Marek lunged and grabbed Colin's arm, branding his flesh. “Please stay.” “No! Get your fucking hand off me.” Everything erupted inside him, and Colin swung a punch with every bit of pain and hurt in him, crushing his fist into Marek's jaw and sending the man careening into the wall. Marek grunted as his shoulder jammed into the plaster and his back jabbed into the edge of the counter. For a moment, Colin stood stock-still, stunned that he'd attacked another person in violence. He had never hit anyone in his life. Marek looked up, his gaze wide as the ocean outside. He took a step forward. “Colin—” I can't be here anymore. Colin's arm tightened, and aggression burned unchecked in his gut. I might do worse than punching him next time. With his stomach churning and panic setting in, Colin ran for the door. “Leave me alone!” Each step he took weighed his legs with excessive pressure, and Colin felt like he pushed through quicksand to reach freedom. The second he touched the door and swung it open, a tidal wave of crushing pain bore down on him, knocking him back a few steps.

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“No!” Colin swore at the house. He hardened himself against the familiar hurt and fought the pull that worked to hold his body behind the threshold. “You will not keep me here. Let me go.” The invisible force screamed in his head, killing Colin, but the pressure keeping him inside the house finally released him, and Colin stumbled to his knees as he hit the porch. Cries echoed, sounds Colin knew did not come from him. Covering his ears, he righted himself and ran down the path over the beach and to the dock, getting as far away as he could without jumping into the Pacific. He dug into his pocket and produced his keys. Footsteps thudded on the dock in quick order, and Marek snatched Colin's keys right out of his hands. Colin swung his head around and glared. Marek said softly, “If you want to go, I'll drive you back. It's dark, you had a few glasses of wine earlier, and it's not safe for you to operate your boat.” Colin pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and searched for the boat rental company. “I'll call someone.” Marek's jaw clenched, and it ticked a million beats a minute. “I'll keep your keys.” Anger edged his voice. “Fine.” Hostility covered the hole torn inside Colin. “Leave me alone. I at least deserve that.” Marek stood next to Colin on the dock, his body so close his heat still reached across the space between them, no matter that he wished it didn't. His blue eyes burned as they had the day they jumped through the waterfall, and Colin knew the man wanted to dare him to do something risky again. The fire was banked as soon as it shot high, and the light went out. “Whatever you want,” Marek said. “Good-bye.” He walked away. His steps grew softer as he retreated, until eventually, Colin did not hear them anymore. He didn't dare turn around, though. He could feel Marek watching him, probably from the porch. Colin could still feel and hear the house calling to him too. Despair suffocated the breeze floating in the night air. Forcing a steel rod into his back, Colin didn't crumble until the taxi-boat came and drove him away.

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Chapter Seventeen “I will cut off his balls,” Jordan raged the next morning. She still wore her robe, and bed head tufted her short red hair. “I swear to God I will shove them down his throat and then hang the son of a bitch by his cock.” Colin sat at the table, across from Jordan, in Jordan and Tag's honeymoon suite. Through the open balcony door, Colin could see Tag leaning against the railing and sipping a cup of coffee. He'd been unable to talk to his other friends about what had happened, so they had taken it upon themselves to contact Jordan first thing in the morning, and she had instructed one of them to drive Colin right to her hotel. Colin felt awful for crashing Tag's much-awaited honeymoon, but the man assured him it was okay. “What he told me last night…” Colin still trembled, all these hours later. “I felt beaten up all over again, only this time it was like I had the person who did it right in front of me, and I hit him. I was so out of control, I punched him, and it felt good. It felt right.” Colin rubbed his gritty eyes. He hadn't slept one minute all night. “But it scared me too. What he did to me…” Colin couldn't even get the words out anymore. It had cut him up inside to relive the confession and ensuing fight when telling everything to Jordan. “I don't know what to think or what to do.” “You get the hell out of Fiji tomorrow is what you do,” Jordan instructed hotly. “Just like you would have done if you never saw that house or met that man in the first place. You do not give him the chance to crush you again.” “Now wait a minute.” Tag spoke from the balcony. He moved from the railing and leaned his shoulder against the sliding door. “A week ago, you believed this man to be your destiny. You saw that house and then met Marek, and you were sure something bigger than you could understand had guided you to Fiji and to him. From what you've told me, I thought you accepted on a fundamental level that those dreams you had, and

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the emotion and connection you experienced in them, was real, and that Marek was the source of that pain you were driven to heal.” Jordan shot up from her chair, and if she had fur running down her back, it would be raised on end. “Tag, the guy had a hand in Colin's beating.” “No, he didn't,” Tag answered. He walked inside and put his mug down on the table. “He made a really stupid, jerk move when he was seventeen, a mistake that clearly haunts him to this day. But he did not go with those guys and aid in what they did. And he didn't turn a blind eye knowing they were going to do it either.” Growling, Jordan said, “But he didn't do a damn thing afterward once he figured it out.” “Guys.” Colin stood and got in between the couple. “Please don't get in a fight over this. I don't want that.” Tag circled around Colin and put his arms around Jordan. He pulled her against his chest, and their hands twined at Jordan's stomach. “Colin,” Tag began, “Jordan and I disagree all the time, and it's certainly something we're going to do more than once over the course of a marriage. We both have strong personalities, and conflict is going to occur. It's part of being honest about who you are in a relationship and trusting the other person will accept you.” Colin narrowed his stare at Tag. “Are you trying to hint I didn't do that with Marek?” His voice rose in disbelief. “I didn't pick a fight with him. I never hid myself from him. He sold me out, and then he lied to me about it for a week.” “He showed you the ugliest, most secret part of himself, something that filled him with shame.” Tag paused, but his hazel eyes pinned Colin right to the wall. “And you walked away.” Tearing his gaze from the penetrating scrutiny, Colin rubbed his neck and took to pacing the hotel room. “This is different than what most people consider a 'big' secret they're afraid to tell a spouse.” Colin slipped back in time to lying on that gravelly concrete, battered and cut open; he shivered with renewed fear. “Marek instigated something that put me in the hospital and gave me nightmares for months afterward. I have scars on my body that will never go away.” Jordan untangled herself from Tag and sat back down at the table. “I have to go with Colin on this one, babe.” Tag took a seat too, facing his wife when he next spoke. “For someone who had such difficulty showing me her demons and deepest fears, I would have thought you'd have some understanding for Marek.” “Maybe if it were anyone but Colin,” Jordan answered, “I would. But I met Colin while he was still healing from the assault, so I know the pain and trauma he went through. I can't be on anyone's side but his.” “I think that's where you're mistaking my viewpoint,” Tag said. “I don't see myself as being on Marek's side.” He shifted in his chair and put his focus back on Colin. “You know I am your friend and I only want you to be happy.”

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A small smile forced up the edge of Colin's mouth. “Yeah. You don't even have to say it.” “Thank you.” Tag dipped his head, but then continued to follow Colin's movements from where he sat. “I wouldn't be pushing you to reexamine this except for the fact that I saw how you were all this week. Jordan told me how strongly you felt about those dreams you experienced, and you even talked to me about it some during this time in Fiji. You were so certain the man and that house were your future. When you met Marek, you had more life in your eyes than I've ever seen in you. What has really changed? Nothing. Except that this Marek might actually need you now more than that man in your dreams ever did.” Colin's head hurt, his heart ached, and betrayal sat like rancid food in his stomach. “It's not that simple.” His fists clenching at his sides, he whirled on Tag as the events of his time with Marek all caught up to him. “Marek knew. From the day I set foot on his porch, he knew everything. From the first second he saw my face, he knew the part he played in my beating, and he never said a damn thing about it. He fucking touched my scars while we…were intimate. Every time he saw them, or each time we talked about my assault, or when he told me about Payton's murder, he knew I didn't have the answers to my own beating or to how we were connected, beyond being acquaintances as teenagers, yet he never said a word.” Colin dropped down into a chair at the table, depleted. All week he had been running on adrenaline, the discovery of the house, but mostly on the thrill of being with Marek. Now, everything caught up to him and crash-landed his body straight down to earth with a jarring thud. Holding his forehead in his hand, Colin finally said, “He wasn't straight with me from the start. Worse, he still wasn't upfront with me each day we were together and grew closer. He had to know I was falling in love with him, but until I actually slipped and said it, he kept me in the dark.” Colin shifted his focus back and forth between Tag and Jordan, still searching for answers through the blur of exhaustion. “What if I hadn't said 'I love you' last night? How much longer would we have gone on without him telling me the truth?” Tag reached across the table and grabbed his cup of coffee. He looked at Colin from over the cobalt blue rim. “You sound more upset Marek withheld his confession than you are with what actually happened all those years ago.” “Maybe I am.” Colin's eyelids felt weighed down with ball bearings. “I don't know. I don't know what to think or feel or believe anymore.” “So maybe this is where the rubber hits the road,” Tag said. “Maybe this is a test of how you guys really feel about each other and what you are willing to fight through and for in order to be together. Marek made a terrible mistake, on both occasions, but he also let you into his house and his life, giving you the benefit of the doubt, even though you were pretty much a stranger to him. And I have to tell you, if it had been me, I think I would have said you were nuts and threatened to call the cops if you ever came back. Marek is imperfect, but so are you. Either you love the man, the whole, flawed man, or you don't. The same goes for him.”

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The roar of waves crashing in Colin's ears nearly drowned out Tag's words. “I do, but… I can't think anymore.” The noise grew louder, and Colin didn't think it had anything to do with the ocean outside. “I don't know.” Jordan stood up and clapped her hands in Colin's face, helping to force his eyes open and on her. “Okay, come on.” She lifted him under his arm and guided him to the giant honeymoon bed. She laid him down, took his shoes off, and pulled the cover over his body. “Get some sleep. A couple hours of shut-eye might give you the clarity you need.” Lead weighed his arm, but Colin managed to grab Jordan before she moved away. “But your honeymoon. Your room.” “It's okay.” She untangled his fingers from her wrist and tucked him back under the sheet. “We wanted to do a few more things on the island before leaving tomorrow anyway. Rest. I'll leave you my key on the nightstand in case we're gone when you wake up.” As unconsciousness pulled Colin under, he heard feminine and masculine murmuring, and then Tag's deep voice rumble, “I love you too.”

***** A boat engine cut across the chirps of the birds and the critters in the air, reaching Marek in the backyard. “Colin?” He threw down his pruning shears and raced around the side of the house, his heart beating triple the pace of his churning legs. “Colin!” Please say you forgive me. Speeding up the path to the beach, Marek nearly tripped in the sand in his effort to get to the dock, where a boat came to a stop. “Colin!” He put his hand to his forehead to block the glare of sunlight. A shorter, stockier man emerged from the side of the taxi-boat, and Marek stalled to a stop, his heart plummeting into his stomach. “I'm sorry.” Tag appeared, hoisting himself to the dock. “It's just me.” The taxiboat pulled away, and only Tag remained. “I'm here to get Colin's things, and to take the speedboat back for him. I understand you have the keys?” “Oh.” Stabbing disappointment lanced Marek in the chest, and he dropped his gaze as shame filled him to the brim. He knows everything. I can see it in his eyes. Even if he couldn't, Tag could surely see the bruise forming on Marek's cheek. “Of course. Come with me.” Marek led the way, and Tag fell in beside him. The men walked up the stairs to the porch; Marek let them inside, and started up the steps. “His bag and things are in the bedroom.” Finally, Marek could speak of intimate things about a male partner, to another person. Only, he no longer had the man he wanted to be with at his side. Too little, too late. He walked into the bedroom and couldn't stop the image of Colin sleeping in his bed from filling his mind. Christ. Marek's throat scratched with the loss. I miss him so fucking much already.

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“Marek? Dude?” Tag's voice yanked Marek out of the welcoming picture in his head. “You okay?” “Yeah, sorry.” Marek forced his feet to move and slipped Colin's duffel bag out from under the bed. “I tossed the boat keys somewhere in here too.” While making his way to the wardrobe, Marek glanced at Tag where he stood at the door. “Check that dresser right near you there, will you?” Nodding, Tag moved to the chest of drawers and did as asked. A few seconds later, he said, “Found them.” “All right. I'll try not to keep you longer than necessary.” Removing a handful of Colin's T-shirts and shorts from the wardrobe, Marek barely resisted the urge to put them to his face and see if any traces of Colin's scent remained. The bed last night had been so full of Colin's spring-fresh smell Marek had gone down to the TV room to sleep on the couch. Once there, the talk they shared in the dark replayed in front of him repeatedly, and eventually he gave up any pretense of sleep. A throat cleared across the room, and Marek looked up to find Tag watching him. “For what it's worth,” Tag said, “I really am sorry things are ending this way.” Clothes clutched in his hands, Marek gave up any facade of detachment or cool. “How is he?” Marek grasped for anything, feeling like he could achieve some sense of closeness with Colin if he could just hear something about him. “Are you allowed to at least tell me that?” “He's hurt, and he's angry.” Tag assessed Marek openly. Marek tried to stand up straight and not flinch through it, knowing he deserved much worse than what this man was showing him right now. “He's equally exhausted. He slept the better part of the morning away. He's with Jordan at the hotel right now.” “Right.” Still feeling so raw inside, Marek busied himself with packing Colin's clothes. He didn't have anyone to talk to though, and Tag's sympathetic tone pulled him to speak. “I know it's not going to make any difference, but can you please tell him again that I am so sorry for everything. I know I should have told him everything from the beginning, but the thought of his reaction scared me, and I didn't know how to force myself to do it.” He went into the bathroom to gather Colin's toiletries. Returning, he slipped them in the duffel, zipped everything up, and handed it to Tag. “Thanks.” Tag transferred the bag to his shoulder, and offered a small smile. “I guess I should get going.” “Wait!” Marek strode across the bedroom to the wardrobe again. He opened one of the bottom drawers and withdrew the leather satchel. Closing his eyes for a moment, breathing through the fresh wave of loss, Marek walked back to Tag and adjusted the strap over the man's shoulder. “They're Beatrice's journals,” he explained. “Colin should have them. I want him to keep them.” “I'll make sure he knows.” “Thank you.” Marek lifted his arm in the direction of the door. “I'll show you out.”

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The men reversed their steps through the house. At the front door, Tag stopped and looked at Marek. He held quiet for a heartbeat, then said, “Can I say something about all this?” “Please.” Marek was surprised he didn't leap on Tag and beg for his wisdom. “Colin is a lot like my wife. He might not say so if asked, but believe me when I say he is. Trust is a must with Jordan, but making sure she feels safe with me was the hugest obstacle I had to hurdle with her. And I'm not talking physically safe; fact is, that woman knows many forms of self-defense and can kick my ass.” Pride filled Tag's voice at that confession; earnest passion animated his face and had his hands gesturing as he spoke. “I'm talking about, does she feel safe enough with me to say whatever she thinks the second it pops in her head, without worrying how I'll react or if I'll mock or leave. I'm talking about, does she feel safe sharing her secrets or expressing her fears without worrying I'll use them against her. I'm talking about, when she's afraid, does she automatically turn to me before anyone else, because she knows I will do anything and everything to protect her and make it better. I'm talking about, does she believe what I say is true because she knows I respect her enough that I would never lie or deceive her.” Marek's world grew darker with every revelation Tag shared. “And I killed all that with Colin before it ever had a chance to occur.” “I choose to think maybe it's on life support, and you have to figure out how to revive it,” Tag offered. “Part of getting Jordan to believe in me was proving myself worthy through Colin. I don't undervalue for one second how much getting to know Colin and becoming friends with him showed Jordan I wanted to be a part of her world. Every part of it. Getting her past the assumption that I was just another redneck, homophobic Bubba was huge for me. And I ended up with one of the best friends I've ever had in the process. They will go to bat for each other, but they will also smack each other into waking up when needed. If you really want him, find a way to prove your character and worth to him, and make it happen.” “Can I get…” Fuck, this was presumptuous. Still, Marek's heart beat with something other than pure pain for the first time since Colin walked away. “Can you give me your phone number or e-mail address?” he finally asked. “I'd like some way to be able to reach you and Jordan, if that's okay with you.” “Sure. Do you have a pen and piece of paper?” “I'll be right back.” Marek took fast strides to the computer room and returned with a pad of Post-it notes and a pencil. Tag scribbled a half dozen lines on the top page and then handed it back to Marek. “Understand that with everything I've said to you, my loyalty does ultimately lie with Colin. No matter how much I like you guys together, there are boundaries I will not cross to help you get him back.” He laid a very hard, piercing stare on Marek. “I'm willing to be an ear if you need one. Are we clear on that?”

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“We are. Thank you.” Marek stuck out his hand, humbled in the extreme. “For everything.” Shaking with a strong hold, Tag said, “I hope I see you again one day.” He nodded, and started down the porch steps. “I have to get back.” Marek stood in the open doorway, watching until Tag sped away out of sight. The curtains billowed through the open windows, almost like hands reaching out to the ocean. “You want him back too, I suppose.” He stepped outside and scanned the length of the porch. “Help me figure out a way to make it happen.” No buzzing, no noises, no life from the house reached into Marek the way it did for Colin. He was on his own. Again.

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Chapter Eighteen “Ohhh crap…” Marek groaned and rolled to his back, wiping drool off his chin as he blinked himself slowly awake. Dirt clung to his sweat-damp face and hair, and he spit some from his mouth onto the greenhouse floor too. What the fuck? Marek pushed himself upright and dug the heels of his hands into his forehead, cursing the pounding within, as well as the sunlight beaming in through the wall of windows, making the thumping in his skull even worse. Empty beer bottles littered the area around him, and Marek's cramped muscles shouted in protest as he grabbed onto the bench, then the worktable, until he was eventually on his feet. He remembered wandering into the greenhouse last evening, but he couldn't recall going back inside the house for more beer, and he definitely didn't remember taking a facer into the dirt and passing out. Wait. How long was I out here? Maybe I missed him. Marek raced through the backyard and into the house on unsteady legs, but as soon as he hit the kitchen, the chill and silence halted him in place. He didn't have to go upstairs or check any of the other rooms to know they were empty too. He's still gone. Colin was not in this house. Anywhere. Of course he isn't. Reality slowly returned, and Marek knew there wouldn't be a message on the phone from Colin either. Seven days of checking repeatedly and finding nothing wasn't going to change today. The loss seeped into Marek all over again, and he relived the final terrible moments with Colin, when the man had learned everything, and the absolute devastation on his face as it all sank in. Marek's gut clenched, and it didn't have anything to do with the alcohol rotting there.

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Opening the fridge on automatic, he grabbed another beer. Unbearable guilt and self-hate sat heavily inside him, so much a part of his being he needed a drink to escape it, even for just a little while. Only every goddamned time he woke up, the pain was still there and attacked him harder. It became more acute each time he acclimated and remembered, and so he reached for another drink to dull the hurt. And the guilt. Doing exactly the same thing you did when you lost Payton. Marek held the beer poised at his lips, sobering for the first time in a week. This was not the same as Payton. Colin was not dead. Just gone. Shit. The loss still hurt so goddamned badly. But not with quite the same finality as Payton, so stop acting like Colin's dead and buried. He's still alive, which means there's at least the possibility you can get him back. Marek looked at the bottle in his hand and sneered. But not if you keep drowning yourself in booze and hiding in blackouts. Goddamnit, he'd wasted time. “Fuck fuck fuck.” Marek dumped the open beer down the sink, untouched, and did the same with every other drop of alcohol in the house. His hand shook like a son of a bitch, and his pulse hammered harder than he'd felt in a week. He looked up and stared at his mess of a reflection in the window, flinching, but for the first time since Colin leaving, he didn't drop his gaze and hide. Get your fucking act together, Donovan. Colin's not gonna come back to you on his own. Not after what you did to him. It's up to you to get him. You have to find the answer. Pull your head out of your ass, and figure out a way to prove yourself worthy of him, like Tag suggested. It's your only shot. Problem was, Marek didn't know if he was worth Colin giving him a second chance. He looked down at the alcohol-splashed sink and thought about running his fingers through the wetness; he saw himself bringing his hands to his mouth and licking the streaks of booze off them as he panicked and craved temporary oblivion again. No! Marek turned on the tap before he could be tempted again and sprayed the basin with water, drowning the last of the beer, wine, and whiskey away. He left the kitchen and wandered his house, inside and out, over and over again, letting every piece of Colin and their time and talks together sink into his heart and mind, saturating him. Marek remained sober, didn't have any choice right then, and let every second spent with Colin, and let every emotion the man evoked and provoked, cut into him and go deeper than any drink ever could. Fuck, the pain of feeling everything he'd done to the other man ripped through him hard enough to knock him off his feet, but he screamed at the top of his lungs and pushed himself to get back up. Eventually, hours after darkness set in, Marek knew what he was supposed to do. He didn't exactly feel hopeful, but he went inside and got to work anyway. He didn't have anything left to lose.

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***** Two weeks after returning home from Fiji, Jordan clicked online to check her email and nearly fell out of her chair. The top of the list had a name she'd never expected to see again. From: Marek Donovan, and the subject line read Please don't delete. Checking her watch, right on time, the doorknob rattled, and seconds later, her husband appeared. “Honey?” she called to him from the desk across the living room. “Can you come here for a minute?” “Hey, babe.” Tag looked up and smiled. “What is it?” Jordan crooked her finger, drawing Tag to her side. “Do you know anything about this?” After kissing her cheek, Tag leaned over her shoulder and looked at the monitor. His eyes stopped scanning when he spotted Marek's name. “Not what it says. But I did tell you I left him information about how to get in touch with us.” Righteous indignation burned in Jordan's belly for her best friend. “Damn it. Son of a bitch. I would have thought this guy was smarter than trying to get to Colin through me.” She clicked a checkmark next to the asshole's name and moved her cursor to select Delete. Tag covered her hand and jostled the mouse, waving the arrow away before she could make it happen. “Don't do something impulsive you might later wish you hadn't. Aren't you the slightest bit curious about what he has to say?” She narrowed her gaze up at him. “Why? Has he already been in touch with you?” “Today, for the first time, same as you.” Tag took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and walked across the open space to the kitchen. “He said hello and let me know he had sent something to you. I just walked in the door. You know I would have told you as soon as we sat down to eat.” Yeah, she knew he would too. Damn. She turned in the swivel chair, following Tag with her gaze as he disappeared behind a wall into the kitchen. A moment later, he reappeared with a can of soda. “You think I should read it,” she said to him. “I think you should at least give it serious consideration before you click the note into the trash.” Tag paused, popped the top of his drink, and took a swallow before he captured Jordan's gaze again and went on. “I think you should think about how damned happy Colin was every second he was with Marek, right up until he learned Marek had misled him. I think you should think about how Colin has looked the last two weeks, and don't even necessarily compare him to the guy in Fiji, but to the man who for the last two years loved this faceless person in his dreams, and how connected he felt to that man.” Tag walked across the living room and kneeled in front of Jordan. Setting his drink on the floor, he tucked his arms around her waist and looked up into

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her eyes. “I want you to think about how the shape, the structure, and body of that house turned out to mirror the one in his dreams and then just consider that maybe the man who lives inside it has the same heart and soul as that dream man too. What if none of it was a strange coincidence?” he asked. “What if Marek really is a good man who made a huge mistake, and what if Colin really is supposed to be in that house with him in Fiji?” Her heart squeezing, Jordan caressed her husband's strong jaw. “Nobody looking at you would ever think you were such a big ol' romantic.” “As long as you know.” Tag leaned in, brushed her lips with a kiss, and stood back up. “I'm going to go take a shower. Then I'm taking you out for dinner.” “Sounds good.” Swiveling back to face the computer, Jordan clicked on Marek's email. “You're lucky my husband likes you,” she mumbled, glaring, as if the man could see her through the screen. Then, she read Marek's e-mail. Jordan—I know I hurt Colin, and I don't blame him or you for being so angry. I hurt him, twice, and you cannot know how much I will always regret that. I miss him more than I ever thought possible, and I'd like to try to build something new with him. I understand, if this is at all possible, it will take time, and Colin should be able to go as fast or slowly as he wants. I would like to send him a paragraph every few days to let him know about some changes I'm about to make, and I'd like to do it through you. I don't want you to be a courier for something you don't approve of, so I'd like you to please read them yourself before forwarding them to him, so he can know I'm not pushing for something he may not want to start again. If you're not comfortable with what I write and don't wish to pass it along to him, all I ask is that you let me know. I thank you for your time and for even considering helping me out. I have the first e-mail ready. All I need is your permission to send. Sincerely, Marek Tapping her fingernail against her teeth, Jordan stared at the note on the screen. “Ohhh, you are too good.” Now, she was too curious to know what the damn man had to say to ignore his plea. Before she could change her mind, she hit Reply and started to type. I make no promises I will help you yet, but you can send the first one. Without even signing her name, Jordan clicked Send.

***** Exhausted, fighting sleep, Colin pulled his laptop in bed with him, hoping to stay awake watching inane videos on YouTube. He didn't welcome sleep anymore; he feared if he slipped into a deep slumber, he would dream about Marek and the house. He wasn't sure he would survive living in those dreams every night again now that he knew the reality of the man and his home. Not now that he had been inside them

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both…and loved it. As quickly as excitement stirred in Colin's sweats, memories of their last moments together flooded him, and he didn't have to fight a hard-on anymore. His home page flashed New Mail, and Colin clicked on it, figuring he could kill a few minutes browsing the junk mail clogging his in-box. He had to start thinking about a birthday gift for Jordan anyway, and maybe he would find a nice discount coupon for an online store. “Speaking of the devil herself…” Colin opened an e-mail from Jordan and almost stopped breathing. I am forwarding this from Marek. You may not want to read it, but please don't delete it. You might change your mind down the line. I love you, and only have your interests at heart. He sounds— His heart racing crazily, Colin jabbed his finger on the laptop's touchpad and got out of the body of the e-mail before reading another word. He shut down his computer as fast as his shaking hands would allow then ran it into the living room and left it on the coffee table. Backing away as if it were diseased or on fire, Colin crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin the way he used to do as a kid. I'm not ready to deal with him. I don't know how I feel anymore. Blindly reaching for his TV remote, Colin's hand brushed the spine of a book. Beatrice's journals. A band tightened his chest as he acknowledged the gift of the diaries. With certainty, Colin knew Marek hadn't given them to Tag to pass along as some kind of manipulation. He just knew how much Colin treasured the find and wanted him to have them. Shifting upright in bed, Colin grabbed the top one, opened it to the bookmarked page, and started to read.

***** Colin woke up the next morning with his hand wrapped around his cock, shouting Marek's name as he showered his stomach with seed. The dreams had returned.

***** “So you're not reading them,” Jordan said. She hoisted herself up on Colin's desk, crossed her legs, and nudged her high heel against his knee, forcing him to acknowledge her. “I just sent you one and watched you look up and glare at me from your office across to mine.” Looking up at Jordan coolly, Colin picked up his pen and started twirling it between his fingers. “I've already told you I wasn't reading them.” Jordan grabbed the pen out of his hand and threw it against the wall. “Damn it. It has been three and a half months, Col. I wouldn't care except you don't look happy. You haven't since the day we got back. I understand why you were mad; God knows I was too. Maybe I still am; I don't know. But if you are still angry, then maybe you should go

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be angry with Marek, to his face, and work through it so you can see if there's anything left worth rebuilding on the other side.” “I'm not angry anymore.” In the beginning, Colin had speechified so many rants and rails at Marek in his head he simply didn't have the energy anymore. “I just don't care.” Even as he declared the second statement, his heart constricted hard enough to make him put his hand to his chest, proving him a liar. Openly checking him out from top to bottom, Jordan snorted. “Yeah, right; it's so clear to everyone that you've moved on.” She pulled a sarcastic face at him. “You're letting fear rule you the same way I did.” “No I'm not.” “So if you really don't care anymore, then what will reading the e-mails from Marek hurt? How can they have power over you if you don't love him anymore?” She reached across the desk to his computer and clicked the icon for the Internet. “Read them and get them out of your system. I'll tell Marek I can't forward anything else, and we'll all move on with our lives.” She hopped off the desk and pressed a fast kiss to his cheek. “I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Bye.” Colin turned to get back to work, and his attention caught on his e-mail home page. His mouse hovered over the icon for the unnamed folder where he had been storing the unopened e-mails from Marek, the little pointing finger just waiting for Colin to click. He understood Jordan's read-them-and-get-them-out-of-your-system taunt was a total ploy, but one she knew would work on him. Damn it. The dreams continued to haunt Colin too, and the ongoing tie binding him to Marek wouldn't let him delete the e-mails, no matter how much in his waking hours he tried to convince himself he should. Colin could still feel grief in Marek when they came together in frantic sex during those hours of unconsciousness at night. He clung to the man with equal desperation, punishing his body with violent mating in an effort to connect in place of words that no longer existed between them, even in the dreams. At the same time, Colin's original fear for the faceless man's safety no longer existed in these newer dreams; there was an underlying strength and peace in Marek he could not deny. Maybe he has moved on, and I need to look at these e-mails so I can too. His hand trembling, his heart screaming with denial, Colin went back to the first e-mail and opened it. Colin—Even though I can't feel it myself, I've decided you were right. This house is sad due to some serious neglect. I've played a part in that, and I plan to rectify it as best I can. I've contacted an architect to look at the place and help me make choices that will bring the house back to its original character. I know a pair of brothers on the main island who will be happy to have the contractor work and will be open to me being an integral part of the repairs. With only three of us, it won't go fast, but that's okay. I want my hands on all of it, and I want it right more than I want it quick. I'll keep you apprised on how we progress.

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I'm sorry for not being open with you about everything that happened when we were teenagers, right from the start. Love, Marek Opening the next, Colin held his breath, so uncertain about what to expect. Colin—The architect came today. Her name is Hattie; she's Australian, and she called our house unique and charming. I think I like her already, and I feel good about the advisory role she will play. The wood slat siding will need to be replaced. It cannot be cleaned and painted over enough to hide the damage done over the years. That will likely be the first task. I have to say I think my body is looking forward to the challenging work. I wish you could have been here to take part in the conversation, but I understand why you can't right now. I miss you. Love, Marek Colin steeled himself not to react to the plural possessive of ownership and read on. After reading a dozen or so more notes—about two months into the repair work on the house—Colin got something a little different. Colin—It rained pretty hard last night, and we weren't able to safely do any work on the house today. That's okay. The guys and I probably needed a break. I hiked up the mountain to the waterfall instead, and it was nearly as beautiful as the day we went up there together. I jumped off the shelf, but it didn't feel right without you there, holding my hand, so I got dressed and hiked back to the house. Jesus Christ. I know I shouldn't say this, and I'm probably risking Jordan even forwarding this to you, but I miss you so fucking much, sweetness. I wish I could feel the house and sink into those dreams of us like you used to do. At least I would have you in some way. This island isn't my home without you. I've written more here than I promised Jordan I would. I'm sorry. I have to go. Love, Marek Wiping the blur of wetness from his eyes, Colin moved to the next e-mail, dated a week later. Colin—We're starting on the porch today. I can't believe I left it in such a bad way on that right side for so long. Now that I've been looking so closely at the house these last few months, I'm shocked the whole thing didn't collapse around me long ago. Christ, what you must have thought of me when you saw it in such disrepair the first time. Anyway, when it's finished, I want to buy rocking chairs to put on one side of the porch, and a hammock for the other. I can't believe I've lived in Fiji for nearly two and a half years and I've never put my ass in a hammock in all that time. I think there's a science to them, and I'm kind of nervous I'll flip right out the second I sit down. One of the rocking chairs will have your name on it, waiting for you.

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I didn't know it was possible to miss you this much, and I don't know how the hell I'm staying away from the airport. Everywhere I turn, I feel you around me, but when I reach out my hand, you're not there. I'm not sure if that's some form of madness or just… Never mind. Love, Marek Colin's heart squeezed so tightly he could barely breathe. But there was no way he could stop reading, even for a second, and regain control. Colin—I was thinking about Stewart and Beatrice today; I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just working on the house and thinking about Stewart building it with pride, knowing he would live in it with his bride. I hope they're pleased with what is happening to their home recently. Hattie says what we've done so far is a nearly flawless refurbishment of the original specs of the house, and she can't believe the change. The blue tiles to replace the terra cotta colored ones on the roof should be coming soon. I have all the rooms and doors inside the house open all the time now, but I don't have any more furniture than I did before. I think I know what kinds of styles you would like, but I also have a gut feeling you would have a hell of a lot of fun picking those things out yourself, so I haven't bought anything yet. When Tag came to pick up your stuff, I forgot to give him the red butt plug you came to me with the night of the wedding. I use it at night when I can't stop thinking about you. I close my eyes and try to feel your weight on me and your cock in me. I'm hard right now. Jesus, Colin, I want to feel you inside me again. Marek Colin read three more notes, which mixed house updates with more and more intimate, personal asides. Then there was only one left. The final e-mail, the one Jordan forwarded today. Almost afraid to read it, because then there would be no more, Colin clicked it open. I love you. Please come home to me. Two simple sentences. Marek didn't even sign it. Just those few words, in such small print, filled Colin's vision. He could see nothing else. His fingers shook as he covered his mouth and stared. “Oh, God.” Without conscious thought, Colin got up from his desk and started to walk. He appeared at the door to Jordan's office, unbearably choked up. “I have to…” “I know.” Jordan got up, ran to Colin, and threw herself into a hug. “I'm going to miss you like hell, but I want for you whatever will fill you up the same way having Tag does for me.” She pulled back, and a little grumble resonated in her throat. “Even if that happens to be all the way in Fiji.” Colin laughed with a wobble, tears still filming his eyes. He couldn't believe how ridiculously emotional he was, but he knew how difficult it was for Marek to let down his guard and admit to those three little words. I love you. “Think of it like this.” Colin finally gathered himself enough to speak. “You have a free place to stay whenever you want a vacation.”

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Jordan raised a brow. “Now I know you're a real couple because you're already making plans for your friends' visits without consulting your partner first.” Her brown eyes softened, letting vulnerability show in a way she let very few people see. “Go. Be with Marek. Prove to me my gut wasn't wrong in helping him find a way back into your heart.” “I don't think he ever left.” Cupping Jordan's cheek, Colin brushed his thumb over her baby-smooth skin, committing every inch of his dearest friend to memory. “You know I love you, right? I'll come back and take care of work stuff and my apartment stuff and a thousand other things.” “Don't worry about any of that.” Jordan brushed him aside. “You own your percentage of the firm until you decide to sell. You never have to, if that's not what you want. We'll help you from here. I love you too.” She smacked his ass with a sharp sting. “Now go pack a bag and get out of here.” He gave her one more suffocating hug. “Bye,” he whispered roughly and pulled away before he started bawling like a baby again. “Call me when you get there so I know you're safe!” Colin gave her a thumbs-up and left the office he'd called home for five years. He had a man, a house, and an island who owned that title in his heart now.

***** “Thank you.” Colin set his bag down on the dock and paid the taxi-boat driver. He shook the man's hand, let go, and stepped back, watching as the boat drove away. Without even looking up, Colin took note of one thing immediately. No boat. Marek isn't here. Upon taking a moment, Colin realized that might not be such a bad thing. He probably needed some time to feel his way around again and get a handle on his emotions before dealing with an audience. Inhaling the balmy tropical air and listening to the signs of life coming from the cover of trees and mountain, Colin finally turned and lifted his gaze to the house. Oh my. He grabbed his duffel and started jogging down the dock, needing to get closer. It's nearly perfect. The white of the house gleamed with almost blinding brightness in the sunlight, and the tile roof was now all blue again, uniform and clean. Against the sharp backdrop of life-rich green, the house stood out as if it were framed. As he drew near, Colin noticed the windows sparkled with washed panes of glass, and the comforting sight of gauzy curtains flowing settled many of his jumping nerves. Colin strode up the porch steps and planted his foot right where he had in his first dream and real-life visit…and it did not groan or protest his weight. He fixed it for me. Rocking chairs and a low table sat to the left of the door, and all the way to the end on the right, a blue and white striped hammock swayed in the breeze. The door itself remained a raw, natural wood, no red in sight.

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Somehow, that didn't surprise Colin one bit. Opening the door, Colin stepped over the threshold and put down his bag. Not waiting any longer, he took off his shoes and socks and let the soles of his feet absorb the cool hardwood flooring beneath them. He got nothing, and although he understood, his heart twinged with guilt and sadness. Walking to the wall, Colin put his mouth right against the plaster. “I'm sorry I went away.” His fingers danced over the surface in a loving, apologetic caress. “I promise I'm not leaving again.” Colin continued moving and whispering about the invigorated state of the home, and its masters' renewed partnership, never letting up or feeling silly. Some long minutes later, the first tingles tickled the undersides of his feet. “There's my darlin'.” Colin smiled as the talons of sensation climbed up his legs, fully embracing him. “It's nice to feel you again.” The sounds of an engine reached Colin through the open windows and door. As the throttling noise decelerated then came to a stop, Colin whispered, “I'll be right back.” He stepped out on the porch, and his heart rate kicked into dizzying speed the second he set eyes on Marek again. Good God. He has somehow gotten even sexier. His shoulders, arms, and chest all seemed a little wider, no doubt from the task of repairing this house. He'd maintained his haircut, and the beard had not made a reappearance either. Purely stunning. Colin's mouth watered as he stared. Marek finally looked up to the house when he reached the foot of the sand path, and he stalled in place. Portfolio falling from his grasp, he clutched his heart. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” He almost doubled over, but his pure blue eyes remained glued to Colin. “Are you really here?” “I am, baby.” A catch in Colin's voice hitched his words. “I missed you too.” Leaving papers strewn in the sand, Marek started running.

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Chapter Nineteen He can't really be here. With his hands half covering his face, afraid to believe, Marek bounded up the path and steps but jerked to a stop mere inches from sweeping Colin into his arms. He stared, transfixed, absorbing every inch, every eyelash, every piece of clothing, every nuance of the man standing before him. Strands of hair caught on the breeze and brushed over Colin's forehead, his eyes reflected like green sea glass, early stubble grew along the line of his jaw, his thumbs were hooked on the edges of his front pockets, and his bare feet stuck out from the bottom of his jeans. It's so much more detailed than the Colin I saw yesterday. Marek's hand shook as he lifted it, and noticing the tremble, he let it fall back to his side. “I think I'm having another hallucination. I'm afraid to touch you. When I do, you're going to disappear.” Colin reached down and took Marek's hand in his, and the warmth—real, male, human body heat—made Marek shake all the way down to his marrow. “I'm home.” Colin put Marek's hand on his lips and spoke against his palm. “And I'm here to stay.” Marek let his fingers flutter over Colin's cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin, letting the memories of touching, kissing, loving this face return to him. “Oh shit.” A sob wrenched out of him, and he clutched Colin's head in a bruising hold, pulling him close. “Oh shit. It's really you.” “It's really me.” Colin curled his hands around Marek's neck, pressed their foreheads together, and looked right into Marek's eyes. “I swear.” Oh Jesus, he's not a mirage. “I'm so sorry.” Planting little kisses all over Colin's face, Marek's voice broke with emotion on everything he needed to say. “I'm so sorry I was a coward when we were

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kids and that I didn't confess everything the second I saw you again. I wish I could make it up to you and take away how much pain I caused and have you believe in me again.” He nudged his thumb under Colin's chin and tilted his face up, brushing their lips together. “I'm sorry I wasn't stro—” Colin put his fingers against Marek's lips, silencing him. “No more anger, no more betrayal, no more accusations, no more 'I'm sorry's.'“ He moved his hand and rested it against Marek's chest, where he could surely feel the crazy thumping of Marek's heart. “Let's just move forward.” His gaze held Marek's with such intensity Marek felt stripped bare of every barrier he had ever erected to protect himself from ridicule or harm. “Together.” Love and acceptance swelled up a cauldron of need inside Marek, sparking the humid air around them with jolts of electricity. Colin's breath caught audibly, his fingers dug into Marek's chest through his shirt, and Marek reacted as completely as if no clothing existed between them. His cock rose with a rush of blood and pushed against his underwear and khakis, hardening in a shot. Vivid memories of being buried inside this man filled Marek with an exquisite agony of wanting. A brightness reflected back in Colin's eyes and made Marek bold. He slid his hands down Colin's chest and stomach, loving the rips of hard muscle beneath his fingers. “Can you feel it?” Colin pushed one of Marek's hands over the stiff ridge in his jeans and, at the same time, scraped a kiss across his lips. His voice husky, he said, “Yeah. I can.” “Christ, I've missed you.” Marek wrapped his arms around Colin's waist and lifted him right off the porch. “I have to have you again.” “Yes.” Colin slid down Marek's body and grabbed his waistband, going right for the button closure. “Inside. Now.” Marek didn't understand if Colin meant inside the house or inside his body, but he would give Colin one if it meant getting the other. He walked Colin over the threshold and slammed the door. Not giving the man a second to adjust, Marek crowded him into the wall and took his mouth with an open, wet kiss. He tangled and stabbed with all the pent-up longing for connection he'd suffered during three and a half endless months apart. Colin rubbed against him and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, and Marek moaned with sheer, unadulterated joy. He licked Colin's teeth, tongue, lips, and then all over his face, savoring the faint flavor of salt that clung to his skin from being out on the water. Marek's mouth skimmed Colin's hairline, and as he inhaled the clean scent of his shampoo, gratitude tightened a band around his chest. “I can't believe you're real and you're here.” Colin growled and bit Marek's chin. “My dick is too fucking hard for this to be an illusion.” He yanked Marek's shirt out of his pants and pulled on the waistband of his khakis. “Clothes. You have on too many clothes to fuck me.” Getting the button and zipper undone, Colin pushed everything down to Marek's hips, unearthing his erection.

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Staring at Marek's freed prick, Colin's tongue darted out and licked the corner of his mouth. “God. How I dreamed about you like this every night.” He ran the tip of his finger up a thick vein in Marek's cock and rubbed the pad over his slit. Marek hissed and pumped out a fat bead of early cum; his balls already thickened and grew heavy with seed as excitement built in him after so much time living without his mate. Colin teased the sensitized head of Marek's penis a second time, and Marek almost lost his shit right on the spot. Knocking Colin's hand away, Marek tore his button-down shirt off over his head and quickly kicked off his shoes. He pushed his pants down to the floor in one swooping motion, removing his socks in the act too. “Hurry; you strip too.” About to lean in for another kiss, Marek froze at the sight unfolding before his eyes. “Fuck.” His arousal kicked up a dozen notches as Colin pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, leaving his sculpted upper body bare. The man's trim lower belly appeared seconds later when he undid the zipper on his jeans. “I'd forgotten how potent you are to my system.” Marek dropped to his knees and helped Colin tug his jeans to his ankles and then step out of them, leaving him nude. Succumbing to his desire for contact, Marek ran his hands up the outer length of Colin's legs, to his waist, and around to the small of his back. “Christ.” Reverence laced his words. “You are something to see.” Colin tunneled his hands in Marek's hair and forced his head back until their gazes met. “So are you.” Marek's face heated, and he pulled his stare off Colin, uncertain what to say. His fingers brushed over the hairline ridge of skin on Colin's back, and his gut twisted at the feel of the scar. Apologies were neither adequate nor wanted anymore, so Marek said what he needed to without words. He pressed his lips to the start of the scar on Colin's abdomen and kissed his way up and along the curve, turning Colin slowly as he followed the thin line around his side to his back. Pausing for a minute to blink back wetness and swallow the thickness in his throat, Marek traced the scar backward with the tip of his tongue until he reached Colin's side. Then he dipped down and laved on the jagged scarring on his hip. Marek knew the damage lying under the darker patch of marred flesh continued to be an occasional source of pain for Colin when he overtaxed himself, so Marek renewed his efforts to give attention to the area, as if loving it enough could draw the pain out of Colin and into him. Colin cupped his hand under Marek's jaw, stopping him. “You don't have to do that,” he said. “Yes.” Residual guilt held Marek in its grip, and he knew it would never fully go away. “I do.” Shifting his back into the wall, Colin looked down; passion clouded his eyes. “Take care of this”—he stroked his cock and rubbed the head across Marek's mouth, wetting him with pre-ejaculate—“and you'll make me the happiest man in Fiji.” Marek licked his lips and savored the muted bite of Colin's natural lubricant.

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Colin murmured an appreciative noise and batted his dick back and forth in front of Marek's face. “Want a little more of that lipstick?” He held his cock just out of touching distance, tormenting Marek. This man's lighthearted teasing sizzled every nerve in Marek's dick to dancing in a frenzy. “Fuck yes.” Marek would welcome a face full of Colin's spunk, except he would have to give up a mouthful of the stuff, and he wanted Colin's taste on his tongue right now too much to do that. “Give it to me.” Colin moved in, and Marek let him make one small swipe before he swooped in with wide-open lips and swallowed half of Colin's straining penis, filling his mouth to the brim with hot cock. Gripping Marek's shoulders, Colin immediately pulled out and pushed back in, getting right to fucking Marek's face. “Oh yeah, take it, take it.” Colin drew his lower lip between his teeth and bit the edge, staring down while Marek looked up. His fingers put a punishing hold on Marek's flesh, penetrating muscle with his hands nearly as completely as he did Marek's mouth with his cock. Marek welcomed Colin's hands on him and his prick in him, even if it wasn't yet in his ass. He licked all up and down Colin's prick, slicking up his burning length, and then wrapped his hand around the base, jerking him off in time with powerful, suctioning drags over the smooth, fat tip. Marek slipped his other hand around Colin's balls to tickle and squeeze the weighty sac, adding another layer to his blowjob. Curling his hand into a fist, Colin dug his knuckles into Marek's shoulder, bruising him more. “Fuck.” His face contorted with pleasure as he pumped his hips, repeatedly feeding his cock into Marek's mouth. “You know how to touch me just right.” Excited by Colin's homecoming and his growing arousal, Marek removed his hold from the lower half of Colin's penis and redoubled his efforts to deliver this man every bit of pleasure he could stand. He relaxed his jaw and throat as much as he could and went down on the full length of Colin's erection slowly, tonguing every centimeter along the ultrasensitive underside as he went, and didn't stop until the head kissed his throat. Marek manipulated the velvety-hard cock in his mouth with his tongue, easing it against one cheek then the other as well as up against the roof of his mouth. He even grazed his teeth against the firm flesh in a way that mixed pleasure with a hint of pain. When Marek had Colin openly moaning for more, he looked up, found Colin's gaze, and swallowed, taking the tip down his throat. “Ohhh goddamnit…” Colin made a choking noise and bucked into Marek's face but quickly drew back and yanked his saliva-slick prick out of Marek's mouth. He covered Marek's fingers on his testicles and pried them off his body. “Stop, stop, you're killing me. I don't want to come yet; I want to feel you inside me first.” His hips swayed and his ass swished against the wall. “Get me ready. There's lube in the pocket inside my bag.” Marek scrambled across the floor on all fours and tore into the duffel, uncaring if he ripped the material in his need to get inside. Once he opened the zipper, he shoved

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his hand into the interior pocket, feeling around until he fingered a cool, soft bottle with cellophane still protecting the contents. He whipped it out and put the cap to his teeth, removed the wrap as he crawled on his knees back to Colin. Letting his focus travel up the perfection of male body before him, Marek swallowed a moan at the million different places and ways he would be able to fuck this man in this house for the rest of their lives. He popped the top of the lube and squirted a dollop on his fingers. “Slide down the wall and spread your legs for me.” As if the wall itself were slick with lubrication, Colin lowered himself in one smooth motion. He landed on his tailbone with his legs bent and his thighs wide apart, his rosy pucker visible from between his cheeks. Holy fuck. The mixture of base and raw with incredible intimacy threw gasoline on the flame burning within Marek and somehow surged even more blood into his already granite-stiff erection. Colin licked his fingers and rubbed his own taint, snapping Marek out of his lust-induced paralysis. “Here.” Marek brushed Colin's hand aside. “Let me.” He placed the pad of his thumb to the small triangle of thin skin and applied pressure. He kept it up and added an occasional flick from his short thumbnail into the mix. Soon Colin had his hand on his cock in an overhanded pull, and his hole pulsed with a beat all its own, enticing Marek to slide down to the bounty he knew it hid. The second Marek touched Colin's bud, it contracted and sucked in, shying away from his finger. Marek kept up twin pressure on Colin's perineum and snapped-shut entrance, relaxing the muscles around Colin's channel, smiling when Colin wiggled his ass into Marek's digit, seeking additional contact. Marek dipped down and licked Colin from taint to balls, pushed hard at his pucker, and slipped his finger into Colin's ass. He quickly forced in a second, and scorching moist heat clamped around his fingers; the powerful muscle sucked him deep and held him inside. Colin grunted as his anus rippled with strong squeezes all around Marek's invasion. “Goddamnit.” He exhaled loudly and worked his channel over Marek's embedded fingers. “Another. Give me another.” He grabbed Marek's hand and tried to manipulate a third finger into his rectum. “Stretch me for your cock.” Marek eased a third finger inside in steady increments, mindful of the continuous spasms wreaking havoc in Colin's ass. He withdrew all the way but had to push back in quickly before Colin's entrance closed back up. “Jesus.” Marek twisted his digits within Colin's channel, coating his walls with lube as well as trying to relax his snug chute. “You're always so fucking hot and tight.” “I haven't touched…” Colin stopped, gasping as Marek pumped his fingers within. Colin's passage clenched with unfathomable tightness on Marek's invasion, working to shrink the opening Marek created with his penetration. Clearing his throat, Colin finished, “I haven't had anything inside me since the last time I had sex with you.” “Shit, sweetness,” Marek uttered, stunned. Not even a toy since the last time I was there. Unable to stop, Marek pulled out his fingers and quickly moved in for the taking. He spread his thighs wide, eased his knees under Colin's legs, and shifted the man's ass

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off the floor. Fitting his cock right up to Colin's rapidly shrinking asshole, Marek lifted his gaze and got lost in the depth of green he found in Colin's. “I'm not gonna last long this first time with you.” Colin snaked his hand around Marek's neck and dragged him close. “Do it.” He nudged his asshole against Marek's cockhead. He stole a kiss and whispered, “Fuck me now.” Marek sealed his mouth to Colin's and drove deep at the same time, sinking his penis into Colin to the root. Colin's scorching passage closed in around Marek's cock in the most intimate form of embrace, and both men shuddered as it happened. Marek squeezed his eyes shut and breathed through the delicious connection between his body and Colin's, from top to bottom. On a deeper level, his chest pained him as his soul reached out from his core and collided with Colin's, entwining as completely and deeply as their physical bodies. Opening his eyes, Marek looked at Colin and started to move. He slid his hands down to Colin's ass to hold him steady and rocked his length back and forth, taking and retreating over and over again. Colin held him firmly around the neck, as if he never planned to let Marek go, and Marek fell the rest of the way home. “I love you.” The words scraped Marek's throat ragged coming out, and unshed tears burned behind his eyes. “I've never said that out loud to anyone. I didn't know I could.” He opened his mouth over Colin's, occasionally brushing lips and tongues, but truthfully craving any kind of closeness he could find, even shared air. These new emotions rubbed Marek raw inside to think, feel, and speak, but now he knew it would hurt even more not to say it. “I love you.” Colin's chest heaved, and he burrowed his fingers into Marek's hair, holding his head still to kiss him all over. “You sound good saying it, baby.” He wiped his thumbs on the corners of Marek's eyes, while the green in his shone brighter than the most precious emeralds. “I love you too.” Unable to say more, Marek slashed his lips across Colin's and savaged his mouth with quiet desperation, robbing himself and surely Colin of breath, but he simply could not stop. He dug his fingers into Colin's buttocks to hold him in place and surged into his lover's channel, pumping his cock with rough thrusts that barely conveyed the depth of passion and love swirling inside him. Marek's hips moved with piston-fast speed, and he plundered Colin's mouth with voracious probing and licking, slipping into a primal aggression he could not slow down or control. The incredible heat and tightness of being inside Colin's ass consumed him; the passionate slide of wet tongues inflamed his deepest desires. The feel of Colin's fingers in his hair took its toll on Marek, shoving him to the brink of what he could stand to feel. He wanted to pull back, but the coiling spring of release tightened in his belly and tickled his balls, drawing the heavy weight up to his body, warning him of release. “No.” Marek tore his mouth off Colin and looked away, fighting every nerve ending inside him set poised to explode. “Please.” He begged for willpower to resist. “Too fast…can't end.”

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Colin drew Marek's face back around to his. “It's okay.” He pried one of Marek's hands off his ass and guided it around to his cock. “I'm still so fucking hard.” Colin forced Marek's hand up and down his rigid length, and his gaze burned with desire. He pressed his lips to Marek's, holding the connection as he said, “I want inside you too.” Orgasm hit Marek in a wave, rolling through him and tagging every piece of his being from top to bottom. He clung to Colin's kiss and clutched his ass as his cock swelled and exploded, shaking him to his core. Entwined with Colin, Marek pumped line after line of seed into Colin's tight passage, burying a piece of himself deep in the body of this person he craved…and loved. Vulnerability coated Marek, exposing him on somehow yet another level, one he did not understand. He turned his head down and focused completely on withdrawing his prick from Colin's rectum with care, but then spun away quickly and bent over, offering his ass. “Fuck me.” Marek's arms and legs trembled with weakness, and his voice held the roughness of steel wool. He reached back and split his buttocks apart, exposing his hole. His passage quivered as his body vividly recalled the one time he had opened himself up to Colin for the taking. Marek had ached for the man ever since. Closing his eyes, attacked by clawing fears that still whispered in his head that he should protect himself, Marek breathed through the uncertainty and confessed, “I need you.” Just then, the cool, thick feel of lube coated his ring, making his body start with first contact. Marek took his hands away from his buttocks and braced them on the floor. Insistent pressure from what felt like Colin's cock worked Marek's pucker, immediately tingling new arousal in his channel and up and down his spine and legs. The slow, continuous bumping against his bud flooded Marek with such need he jammed his ass back on Colin's erection, crying out with pleasure and pain as his hole collapsed and Colin took over his ass. Colin curled his hands into Marek's hips and started sliding his cock in and out of Marek's rectum. Long, steady strokes created insane friction along Marek's anal walls, and each plugging of his chute shot a line of pleasure to his balls and dick, pushing his sated body to swell and harden again. Perspiration dripped off Marek's forehead and hair and made his hands and knees slippery on the hardwood floor. Colin continued to fuck him with agonizing, slow control, filling and emptying his squeezing channel that wanted to hold some part of the man permanently within. “Please…” Marek writhed back on Colin's penetration, loving the feel of being invaded, but at the same time circled his ass into Colin with a crushing grind, grasping for something more. “I…” Colin rubbed his palm across the hills of Marek's buttocks, up and down his spine, then settled at the base of his back. “Tell me.” He continued to pump his dick with a relentless, even pace in Marek's ass. Marek clenched his teeth as his cock pulsed into overdrive and achieved erection again, stealing blood away from his brain. “I want…”

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Colin stopped moving, and his fingers danced along Marek's neck into his hair, brushing the thick mess. “You're still scared to say what's in your heart, aren't you?” Colin's touch soothed Marek, and the choke in his throat lessened some. “Yeah. Hard to change.” “I know, baby. Me too.” Sliding his hand down Marek's back, Colin's touch drifted away, and Marek nearly cried at the loss. “Tell me what you want.” Reaching back, Marek grabbed Colin's hips and dug into his flesh. “Cover me.” The words ripped out of him in an order, but Marek had prayed for Colin to come home to him for so long he now needed every bit of physical contact he could steal. “Let me feel you all over so I know it's you and you're real.” Fear still leached into Marek that some anonymous person had his cock buried in his ass, and Marek was terrified that he just wanted it so badly he fantasized it was Colin. “Show me it's you. I don't want to be alone anymore.” Colin shoved Marek's hands back down to the floor and came down on top of him with heavenly weight. He wrapped his arms around Marek's chest, settled his chin over Marek's shoulder, and put his mouth next to Marek's ear. “Don't be scared anymore, love.” He dipped down and kissed Marek's shoulder, letting his lips linger. “I'm never going away again.” “Make love to me.” Marek bumped his ass back into Colin's embedded length, hissing as the motion licked his passage and nudged his sweet spot, curling his toes. “I imagined you with me so many times.” Clenching his rectum, Marek held Colin inside him with every ounce of muscle strength he possessed. “Give me the real thing.” “Ohhh God.” Biting down on Marek's shoulder, Colin slammed his prick into Marek's willing ass, going so deep it felt like he touched Marek's spine. “Squeeze my cock like that again and it'll all be over in two seconds.” Marek concentrated his full focus into all the muscles around his anus and sucked in for everything he was worth, so hard he was damn near sure he imprinted the shape of Colin's dick into his rectal walls. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” Colin scraped his fingers down Marek's belly to his cock and then wrapped his arms in a vise around Marek's abdomen. “I warned you.” He tucked his face in the side of Marek's neck and drove into Marek's ass with incredible force, lifting Marek a few inches off the floor in the process. The man bore his full weight into Marek and thrust his hips in a rudimentary mating. He pumped his cock in lightningfast strokes, sawing heat and friction within Marek's channel. Marek spread his knees wider and tilted his hips at an angle to better take the repeated penetration, moaning every time Colin rubbed right over his prostate with each drive and withdrawal. “God.” Colin panted heavily against Marek's flesh at the same pace he fucked Marek in the ass. “You feel so fucking good.” “Oh shit…shit.” Marek reached down and shoved Colin's hand over his erection, gasping and jerking as Colin wrapped his rearing cock up in a stranglehold. “So close again.” He covered Colin's hand and dragged it up and down his length, groaning at

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the wonderful agony of touch. His nuts slapped heavy with every jostling hit, but the final hurdle toward release stayed just out of his grasp. “Need to feel you come.” Marek let go of his dick and reached backward, sliding his hand down Colin's flank. “Give it to me.” He marked Colin's thigh with his digging hold. “Please.” Colin speared deeply with a hoarse cry and sank his teeth into Marek's nape as he lost the battle and shot Marek full of hot seed. The first spit of steaming spunk hit Marek's rectum, and Colin whipped his hand up and down Marek's cock in a furious pumping motion, soaring Marek straight into the arms of release. Marek shouted equally loud with his orgasm, and his channel rippled in crazy spasms as he came, unloading a second wave of cum, this time onto the floor. Marek's entire body heaved in the aftermath of the frantic fucking, and he gasped for air. Draped over his back, Colin's weight rose and fell in an identical pattern; Marek had never welcomed a burden more. Colin's penis was still lodged in his ass, and Marek knew tenderness would soon set in, but he would embrace any small discomfort for as long as it lingered, using the soreness as more proof that he had Colin back in his life. As a lover. As a partner. For keeps. Please. Suddenly, Colin groaned and shifted, unstuck himself from Marek's back, and gently pulled out of his body. The loss of contact pricked Marek's chest, but seeing Colin crawl to the door and wrap his fingers around the knob stirred him to panic. Marek lunged and grabbed the man's ankle, manacling him in a cuff hold before he realized he moved at all. “Where are you going?” Marek's heart raced like mad as Colin swung the front door all the way open. Colin looked over his shoulder and a soft smile graced his lips. “Nowhere, baby. I'm just letting a little more air inside.” He looked down at himself then pierced Marek with a lusty-eyed stare. “I think we need it after what we just did.” He crawled to Marek and lay down next to him, tangling their arms and legs and using the duffel bag as a headrest. “I want to stretch out here with you and stare at our front yard view while we get our breath back.” Marek shifted to his side, curled his leg over Colin's, and slid down to use the man's chest as a pillow. He stared out the front door, down over the pure white sand of the beach, and focused his attention on a speck of a boat far away in the blue water beyond. “Sorry for accosting you.” He murmured the words against Colin's skin. Heat burned Marek's entire naked body in one big rosy blush. “I know you're here, and I believe you when you say you aren't going anywhere, but I guess my gut still holds onto fear that goes deeper than I can control right now.” Drawing a soothing, repeating circle on Marek's hip with his fingers, Colin pressed a kiss to Marek's hair. “That's okay. I imagine it's going to take some time for both of us to get confident with each other again.” “I promise I won't tackle you the next time you try to walk outside.”

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Colin's chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Tackling could be fun, but I understand and appreciate the sentiment. Hey”—he grabbed Marek's wrist—“you found my watch.” Heat burned another blush under Marek's tan skin as he glanced at the chunky, brushed silver timepiece. “Yeah. I looked for it after you went away. It slipped behind the nightstand on your side of the bed.” Cricking his neck back at an awkward angle, he looked up at Colin. “I know I should have sent it back to you, but I couldn't make myself put it in the mail. I've been wearing it every day.” He exhaled shakily. “There were times where I thought I would drown in how lonely I felt and how much I missed you. I often closed my eyes and tried to see it on your wrist. It kept a line to you open. I needed it.” “Then I'm glad you found it and kept it. I like thinking about you wearing it.” Colin fiddled with the band, adjusting it on Marek's wrist. “Yeah, it looks nice.” “Thank you,” Marek murmured. He shifted, this time stretching out at a ninetydegree angle from Colin. He leaned his arm across Colin's stomach and rested his head in his hand, facing his lover. “So you're here, you know about my frequent use of your butt plug, so I guess I can conclude you read my e-mails.” The green in Colin's eyes muted to moss, and his lips pursed a little bit. “I did. Today. Yesterday now, I guess.” Worry lines appeared between his brows. “The time and traveling has thrown my days off.” He tucked one hand under his head, and his jaw ticked with a pause. “I hadn't read them, up to that point. Jordan cornered me, and in that way she has, she nudged me to reconsider. She knew I missed you and still loved you. Everyone did.” Blinking hard to hold back another wave of emotion, Marek uttered roughly, “Christ, I missed you in the way I missed Payton when he was taken from me.” He wiped his hand over his mouth, struggling to maintain control. “Only, you were still around, somewhere, but I was the one who drove you away, so I didn't have the right to go after you and bring you back.” “Shh, I know.” Colin took Marek's hand, pressed a kiss to the tip of each finger, and tucked it against his chest when he finished. “It's okay now.” “I can never thank Jordan enough for deciding to forward my e-mails to you. There were moments where I didn't think you would ever be able to forgive me for what I did to you, and I just didn't know how to handle it. I would send Tag a note or even talk to him on the phone, and he would always just say, 'Is he worth it to you?' I would say yes, and he would say, 'Then get up tomorrow and keep doing what you're doing. Find a way to bring him home.'“ “And what a way you did.” Colin whistled and let his focus wander all around the interior of the house, as if he could see through the walls to the changes outside. “What you've done with the house so far is beautiful and perfect. I couldn't even in my wildest dreams imagine what you were doing down here while I was fighting so hard

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to forget you.” This time, Colin's voice cracked a little bit. “I couldn't. And when the dreams came back… God, they were so fucking powerful.” “I get up every day and do this for you,” Marek confessed. “I fall into bed exhausted almost every night. But the labor feels good; it gives me a sense of purpose. I prayed every night that you would come home so you could see it.” Colin's eyes dampened with empathy, and he rubbed the back of his hand along Marek's cheekbone. “The work you've done to repair this house is beautiful,” he said. “I think Beatrice and Stewart would be very proud.” He looked right into Marek's eyes and didn't blink. “I know I am.” “Are you really?” Marek's guilt, and hope for forgiveness, mingled and tightened his voice, giving him away, but he could not control the emotional outpour. “I know you said no more apologies, but I have to know. Can you truly look beyond how I sold you out? Or that I withheld such important information about our past the way I did? God knows I love you and want you in my life more than any other single thing in this world, but at the same time, I would never forgive myself if I became a constant reminder of your assault. It would kill me if you looked at me across the dinner table and kept seeing my betrayal, both times. I don't ever want to hurt you again. Inadvertently or on purpose. I would rather give you up and live with the consequences of my mistakes than that.” Clouds crossed through Colin's gaze, but when he blinked, they went away and a clear stare focused on Marek. “I think your home life must have been hell to push you to what you did, because I know your heart, and I know you aren't cruel. I know you weren't back then either, just from talking to you during our walk that day. That was the real Marek; I know it was. I want you to trust me and be able to talk to me about your family and the home you grew up in one day. I think it will help me understand where your head was all those years ago.” The ugliness of his childhood reared its head and set Marek's heart to racing. Fear that he would be unworthy if he revealed himself knotted his stomach, but he forced himself to speak through the dryness clogging his mouth. “I can try to do that,” he whispered roughly. “For you.” “That's all I ask.” “What about the other?” Marek had to know. “About what I did when you came here?” “I understand why you didn't confess everything right away. Once I was able to step back from it, I had to admit I might have kept my mouth shut too if it meant getting to spend time with you and hoping you would get to know the real me.” “That's all it was.” Marek sat up straight and straddled Colin's stomach, clutching his hands. “I liked you so much, so fast, and the thought of never seeing you again or never talking to you again or never touching you again scared me into silence.” A sliver of old fear—that actually came true—cut through Marek and induced a shiver. “The thought that you would look at me with disappointment, hurt, and maybe even hate

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kept me quiet longer than it should have, and I will forever be sorry for how that hurt you.” “I get that. Now. I had to get past my own pain first so I could see it.” Colin stopped for a moment; his chest rose and fell, and his Adam's apple rolled with a couple of rapid swallows. “As for the assault itself…” It looked like Colin chewed on his cheek, signaling something difficult for him to deal with. “I researched Tiggs, Street, and Morales when I got back to Austin. None of them have a criminal record. Street and Morales are both married; Street has four kids and Morales has three. They both still live in Henderson. Tiggs is in Los Angeles. Did you know that?” Marek shook his head. “I haven't had contact with any of them since that day I asked them about what happened to you. When I left, I rarely went back. Then Payton died, and I went home one more time to tell my family I was gay.” When Marek delivered the news, his brother only got one chance to swing at him; Marek turned around and walked out of his childhood home forever before his father could get up off the couch and pummel him into the ground. “Stayed one day,” he murmured. “Haven't been back since.” The worrying Colin did to his cheek shifted to his lower lip. “Maybe you'll come back with me for a few days some time down the line.” What are you thinking about, sweetness? Didn't matter. “Whatever you want, Colin. You just have to ask.” “Thank you.” Colin's nod was a little jerky, but he didn't turn his gaze away. “I might not ever be able to prove what those guys did to me, and after all this time, it would be difficult to reopen my case legally since it was classified as an assault, but I've been thinking I might want to confront each of them individually, just to let them know I know they were responsible.” He kept nodding, and his grip on Marek's hands grew stronger as he did. “I think I'd like to look them in the eyes knowing what I know now. I believe it would be good for me and help put everything behind me once and for all.” He went back to gnawing on his lip. “I might not want to do it alone though.” Marek rubbed his thumb against Colin's mouth, stopping him from drawing blood. “If that's what you want, then I will be at your side.” “I'm not one hundred percent set on my course yet, but it's something I've been thinking about ever since I tracked them down.” “Keep me updated on your thoughts. Okay?” Christ, Marek wanted this man to feel safe trusting him…with everything. “Don't worry about stepping on my feelings or guilt. I'm learning how to handle it and how to live with what I can't change.” “I will. Hey.” Colin reached up and curled his hand around Marek's neck, drawing him half the distance closer. “I'm okay. I promise. I'm in just as good a place about the attack as I was when we talked about it before I knew who the guys were behind the masks. None of that has changed.” Marek turned his head and kissed Colin's wrist. “All right. I won't be a nag.”

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“Good. I don't think you would be a very cute fishwife. Fishpartner? Fishhusband?” Colin's face crinkled in that sweet way of his when he went off topic. “Fishlover? That one just sounds too weird. Anyway, never mind. Right now”—he toppled Marek the rest of the way down and tucked him back at his side—“the only thing I want to do is watch the sun set with you.” “You have a deal.” Tangled in each other from top to bottom, Marek snuggled in as close as he could get without slipping inside Colin again. He stared out the front door and watched the sky change from blue to a fiery orange. They remained on the floor, peaceful and quiet, as the light disappeared and darkness took over the foyer. Pressing a kiss to Colin's temple, Marek held there and whispered, “I love you. Thank you for coming home.” Colin turned his head and brushed a kiss against Marek's cheek. “There isn't anywhere else I want to be.” Suddenly animated, he planted another kiss on Marek's lips then shot to his feet. He looked down, and mischievous fire burned in his eyes. “Now how about we go hop in that hammock you bought us and see if we can't get you over your silly fear of falling out?” Colin raised a brow in challenge and started running for the door. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Marek caught one glimpse of Colin wiggle his sweet ass before disappearing around the corner. Marek happily gave chase.

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Epilogue Colin paused at the doorway to his and Marek's bedroom and took a moment to catch his breath at the sight before his eyes. Sprawled across the bed, on his stomach, Marek lay fast asleep. He was on top of the covers without a stitch of clothing on, his sculpted tan body was bathed in morning light, and he was beautiful. Colin's throat filled with saliva, and his dick twitched as it did every day when he took his first glimpse of this man after spending time apart. Even for just an hour. Forcing his gaze off his partner, Colin smiled at the changes Marek had made to their room. Twice the size and a thousand times more open and airy, the wall that had separated the two bedrooms on this side of the upstairs level of the house no longer existed. In the center of the new bedroom, the stairs to the attic remained, and they now had a cozy loft above them where they could watch movies or read. Colin adored his home, and in six months, Marek had made astounding improvements inside and out, but he continued to ignore the one alteration Colin knew the man really wanted. Not anymore. Colin moved into the room, climbed into bed, and crawled on top of the hottest unconscious man he had ever seen. On his hands and knees over Marek, Colin dipped down and put his nose to Marek's nape, inhaling. Fuck, he smells all musky and sexy in the morning. Unable to resist, Colin stayed where he was and planted a line of kisses up Marek's neck around to his ear, licking into the opening before he whispered, “Wake up, sleepyhead.” He nuzzled behind Marek's ear, and tickled his waist. “Time to rise and shine.” Marek's eyes remained closed and he swatted at Colin's hand as if he were a bothersome fly. “I worked my ass off yesterday, and you wore me out last night,

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sweetness.” He mumbled into the pillow and burrowed deeper into the rumpled comforter. “Give a man time to sleep and recover.” “Wow.” Colin made his voice morose and looked at his watch. “Time of death eight thirty-three a.m.” He crawled off Marek and started across the big bed. “Let me mark this on my calendar as the first time my spouse chose sleep over the possibility of making out. Guess it's time for TV in the bedroom and clipping our toenails in bed and—” Marek pounced and toppled Colin facedown on the mattress. “Now I didn't say that.” He smacked Colin's buttocks and yanked his shorts down in the back, exposing his rear end. Tsk-tsking, Marek rubbed his cock into Colin's crease, and Colin gritted his teeth as the thick length grazed his puckered ring. “I can still think of at least five or six things I want to do to this hot little ass of yours before I'd choose getting some shut-eye first. Like maybe”—his penis slid away from Colin's crack, and he replaced it with his lips against the cleft—“eating it for breakfast.” Marek switched from kissing to a rapidfire series of nips and love bites all over Colin's ass cheeks, hips, and backs of his thighs, growling and snarling like a hungry animal as he did it. Colin yelped and screeched in response and couldn't stay still. Each small nip of teeth on his skin tickled and caused him to wiggle, but Marek held his sides in the clutch of his big hands, keeping him trapped. Colin contorted his body side to side and pushed his backside into Marek's face, and he laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. Just when Colin didn't think he could take anymore, Marek slowed things down; his thumbs slipped into Colin's crease and split him open. “So, so very hungry.” Marek flicked his tongue against Colin's asshole, and Colin's laugh morphed into a moan. He spread his legs and thrust his ass up for more, loving every lick and suck the man delivered to his needy pucker. Marek kept up the delicious torment and slipped one hand between Colin's thighs to fondle his balls. Blood rushed to Colin's prick under Marek's deft touch, and he shoved his hand under his body to jerk himself off. Stop! You have something more important to do right now. “Wait, wait, wait.” He shook his head to clear the fog and scrambled off the mattress, yanking up his shorts while putting a good ten feet of space between himself and Marek. God, how quickly he can turn my thoughts to mush and slip me right into a sexual haze of his making. Colin spun around and put on a stern face. “I'm sorry I teased you about making out. I came up here to wake you up so you can help me do something downstairs, not to fuck.” Looking pained, Marek kneeled in the middle of the bed. “Come on, look at me here.” He framed his jutting half erection with his hands. “You get me all hot and hard then run away? Give a guy a break.” Colin crossed his arms and crooked a brow. “You were already hot. You always are. And most of that wood you're sporting was already there before I climbed in bed with you.”

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“Semantics.” Marek's focus started at Colin's feet and slowly travelled all the way up to his eyes. By the end, his blue gaze smoldered, and Colin went a little weak in the knees. Marek stroked himself, and when he spoke, his voice was smoky and full of sex. “You're right there, and I'm right here, and Christ knows I'll steal any opportunity I can to get inside your ass.” And God knew any other morning, noon, or night, Colin would let him. Colin moaned, but held his ground. “If you come with me you can have this”—he shifted, pushed his shorts down to his hips, and gave Marek another fast look at his bare backside—“as your reward afterward.” Colin covered back up quickly and took a step backward out into the hall. From the bed, Marek chuckled and shook his head. “You are such a cock-tease.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “Give me a minute to take a piss, brush my teeth, and put on some pants, and I'll be right with you.” “I'll be downstairs. Don't be long.” “Okay. Hey!” Marek's tone stopped Colin in his tracks. Colin turned back around and braced his hand against the door frame. “Yes?” “A few minutes ago…” Marek looked down and grabbed the white sheet tangled at the foot of the bed. He started out trying to fold it but then just curled it into a tight ball and held it against his stomach. Finally, he made eye contact with Colin again. “Did you call me your spouse?” Oh wow. This matters to him. Colin's chest squeezed. “I guess I did.” Huh. Scratching his chest through his T-shirt, he added, “I think of you that way all the time in my head. Have I never said it out loud before?” “No.” Marek's headshake was choppy, and his voice even more so. “I like hearing you say it though.” Choking up himself a little bit, Colin murmured, “Me too.” Before they both cried, Colin straightened his back and pointed at the bathroom door. “Now go pee and get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs.” Colin left Marek alone to do his business before he let the man drag him back onto the bed to finish what he started. Traipsing down the stairs, Colin chewed on his lip as he came upon his little setup. Having already taped newspaper down to protect the floor and sealed off doorknobs and necessary edges with painter's tape, Colin fingered the quick-drying coat of primer he'd used to prep the wood. The door was open and held in place with shims under the base, and a can of all-weather paint with two brushes sat waiting on a small side table he'd snared from the living room. All we need now is Marek. Nerves attacked Colin, and he second-guessed if he had the right to give Marek this dream he had abandoned so long ago. Through the floor, electrical charges snapped against the soles of his bare feet and tingled up his legs, something he had gotten used to feeling but never took for granted. “Thank you, darlin'.” Colin leaned his cheek into the wall, absorbing the hum. “I appreciate your support.”

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Heavy footfalls signaled Marek's presence. “What do you need my help…” Marek skidded to a halt at the foot of the stairs. His gaze swung from the primed door, to the open can of red paint, and up to Colin. He leaned his hand on the stair railing, as if he needed help to hold himself upright. “What…” His mouth opened and closed, but nothing else came out. Colin stepped into the open doorway and spread his arms. “This is for you. It's time you had your red door.” Uncertainty loomed before him, but love he couldn't contain choked his voice. “You've waited for it long enough.” Marek moved forward with careful steps but stayed off the rectangle patch of taped newspaper covering the area surrounding the door. “I didn't think… I didn't know…” Naked want burned in Marek's blue eyes and tore a hole right through Colin's gut. “You want it, for me.” “Yeah.” Colin nodded. “Not to restore the house, but for you. You said there was a lot of love behind that red door and that you always felt welcome in that house.” He chewed on his cheek like crazy, but forced the waver out of his voice and kept talking. “I think we have a lot of love here, in our home, and our door is always open to family and friends. It's okay to want that dream again. It's okay to have it.” Colin picked up a brush and held it out to Marek. “We're going to make it happen today.” Marek's pupils flared, drowning out the clouds. He closed the distance between them in two steps and grabbed Colin instead of the brush, backing him into the wall with a base, bruising kiss. He grabbed Colin's head and angled it for deeper access; Colin relented with a groan and parted his lips for Marek's tongue, accepting and sparring with every wet, aggressive stab Marek shoved into him. Locking his arms around Marek's neck, Colin strained against his partner and kissed him back with equal fervor as a combination of love and blinding-hot lust fueled his passion. Breaking away just a sliver, Marek rushed warm breath over Colin's lips, sensitizing his mouth even more. “I love you,” Marek said, his voice thick and low. He scraped his hands down the sides of Colin's body and grabbed his hips, tugging them together from top to bottom. He kept his eyes glued to Colin, and hid nothing of his soul. “I don't know what I did right to deserve your forgiveness and a second chance at a life with you; I just hope I keep doing it and you never regret taking me back.” Colin slid his arms down and rested his hands against Marek's waist, the paintbrush still clutched in his fingers. “You make me happy every day we're together. Ooh.” He got a nice warm buzz from the man plastered to his front, and a zing of life firing from the wall into his back. “I'm in a sandwich. She's happy too.” That sparked a chuckle and a smile out of Marek. “The house is happy today, huh?” He tapped his fingers against Colin's cheek. “And it's a she now too?” “Feels like a she.” Colin took Marek's hand off his face and placed his palm against the wall. The vibrations worked through Colin's back like crazy, and he raised a brow at the man in front of him. “You really still can't feel it? It's pretty strong today.”

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Marek held his palm to the wall for a prolonged couple of heartbeats, but eventually stepped back and let his hand fall to his side. “Sorry. Just feels like cool plaster to me.” “Oh well.” Colin shrugged. “That's not our main focus this morning anyway. Right now”—he thrust the paintbrush at Marek's chest—“she wants you to paint her a pretty red door to go with the rest of her makeover. Go ahead.” He picked up his own brush and let it hover over the paint, waiting. “Dip in.” His hand visibly unsteady, Marek did as bade and brushed the first broad stroke of red paint down the center of the door, and Colin nearly cried. Marek held his brush just inches away from the wood before he did a second line. Turning to Colin, he said, “This is our door. You paint it too.” Colin nodded. He dipped his brush into the pool of red and covered some white primer with his own line of color. They worked in silence, exchanging glances every so often and sharing secret smiles that weren't so very secret anymore. Leaning in fast, Colin pecked a kiss to Marek's cheek. Marek smiled and bumped his hip to Colin's in answer. Colin understood what it meant: “I love you too.” He bumped Marek back, and together they finished painting their door.

***** The house settled into the Fiji earth, content with its owners once again. Sunlight reflected off the top left window, and a little boy looking at it from a boat off the shore grabbed his mother's hand and swore the house winked.

THE END

Cameron Dane I am an air force brat and spent most of my growing up years living overseas in Italy and England, as well as Florida, Georgia, Ohio, and Virginia while we were stateside. I now live in Florida once again with my big, wonderfully pushy family and my three-legged cat, Harry. I have been reading romance novels since I was twelve years old, and twenty years later I still adore them. Currently, I have an unexplainable obsession with hockey goaltenders, and an unabashed affection for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I’d love to hear from you! Visit me on the Web at http://www.camerondane.com.