Simple

simple SJD Peterson

Published by Silver Publishing Publisher of Erotic Romance

About The e-Book You Have Purchased:

Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the South African Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated and is punishable by imprisonment and a fine." Cover Artist: Reese Dante Editor: Leslie Brown Simple © 2011 SJD Peterson ISBN # 9781920484873 Attention Readers: This book uses US English. All rights reserved. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

PUBLISHER https://spsilverpublishing.com

Note from the Publisher Dear Reader, Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together. Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families. If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales on pirate sites of this title, you can report the offending entry to [email protected] Thank you for not pirating our titles. Lodewyk Deysel Publisher Silver Publishing https://www.spsilverpublishing.com

Dedication To Natty and Brad, a constant source of entertainment and laughter. I love you both.

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Diet Coke: The Coca-Cola Company Supernatural: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. Facebook: Facebook, Inc. Bling H2O: Kevin G. Boyd Playboy Bunny: Playboy Entertainment International, Inc. Jägermeister: Mast-Jaegermeister AG Cosmo: Hearst Communications, Inc. Jello: Kraft Foods Global Brands LLC Juan Valdez: National Federation of Coffee Growers of Colombia 'good to the last drop': Kraft Foods Global Brands LLC

The moment when the world tilts on its axis, completely changing everything. The instant when suddenly everything just falls into place. The second when a heart shatters into a million tiny pieces, only to settle back into place, complete for the first time. When an all-encompassing light surrounds a soul, touching it so deeply a permanent imprint is left behind. The first time true love is felt. For Brycen Anderson, it didn't happen as it does on TV or on the Hollywood screen. There was no fancy movie set or a multi-million dollar budget. No director taking control. No rehearsals, costumes or media fanfare. It was… A passing glance… A casual touch… Simple.

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Chapter One The blend of hazelnut, cinnamon, Irish cream, crème brulé, and a hundred other scents intermingling should be an overwhelmingly strong odor, one that should be offensive to the senses. Not so at Natty Joe's Coffee House. The combined elements lose their individual identities, fusing together to create a rich, welcoming aroma. It was a scent Brycen longed for during the week, his reward for surviving the nine-to-five rat race he endured Monday through Friday. His Saturday morning reprieve. Taking his usual window seat, Brycen looked out at the crowded streets, watching as strangers dashed by to unknown destinations, countless faces he could not quite see. This was what he had earned for his week of hell. He had no meetings to attend, no deadlines with his name written on it, and nowhere to be. His only need at the moment was one large Caramel Espresso Macchiato and a Mallorca sweet roll. Life was good, even if it did cost him twelve-ninety-five. People on the streets – ee da de da de. Okay, so the coffee and roll weren't the only things he needed. He also needed to get the words from "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie out of his head. It 1

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was Saturday; there was no pressure. The words to the song played on a continual loop and he hummed along distractedly. Why "Under Pressure" was in his head he had no idea, and then he remembered the line about giving love one more chance. Ugh! He hated when a song was stuck in his head, especially one that reminded him what an utter failure he was in love. He'd spent a year giving 'one more chance' to Elijah. The constant fights had exhausted him. He had tried to be the reasonable one, always tried to look at things from Elijah's perspective. In the end, right or wrong, he was the one to back down, always apologizing first. He also learned to turn a blind eye to the betrayals. It had been easier to accept Elijah's lame excuses for why he had stayed out all night, easier for him to live in denial. The cold, hard truth was ugly and he had turned away from it. In reality, Elijah had been a cheating bastard, something he had not wanted to believe. He had refused to think about the betrayal too hard. If he didn't give it thought, he could go along happily in his own fucked up version of reality. For some reason that he couldn't even explain to himself, he had tried to hold on to Elijah out of some screwy desire to be everything Elijah needed and wanted. Brycen wasn't sure what that said about him or why he had

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been so desperate he would ignore the signals that were slapping him painfully in the face on a daily basis. What did he expect his payoff to be for all his hard work? He certainly hadn't worked his ass off to come home from work one night to find Elijah's bags packed and a good-bye of I'm sorry. Things just aren't working for me. What the hell did that mean anyway? What wasn't working? The fact that he had paid all the bills so Elijah could pursue his singing career without having to actually get a job? Brycen kept the apartment clean, cooking all the meals so such ordinary things such as everyday life did not disturb Elijah's creative muse. "Stop it!" he chastised himself as he returned his attentions to the strangers passing by. The past was in the past. It was Saturday morning. He had survived another week, and he'd be damned if he was going to sit here and dwell on Elijah. He was going to enjoy his coffee, dammit. "Hey Bry," Natty said in greeting as she placed his coffee and roll in front of him. "Ah God, am I getting that predictable?" he groaned. "Nah, you just appreciate the best things on my menu." "Thanks, Nat. Good taste or not, still sounds like

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I'm getting boring." He felt like it too. Get up. Shower, shave, and dress. The question of boxers, briefs, or commando was the highlight of his morning. He was too fucking boring to go commando and he hated briefs, so it wasn't much of a highlight, really. At eight-ten every morning, he'd walk the four blocks to the subway, then he'd arrive at Michael, Michael, and Lynn, the law firm where he worked as a paralegal, at 8:50. Work until noon. Eat his packed lunch of meat sandwich, raw vegetable salad, and Diet Coke at his desk. If he was feeling adventurous, he might switch the Diet Coke for mineral water. Resume working at 12:30, continue until 5:00. Take the same train back home. His evenings had become just as predictable as his workday. Arrive home at 5:40. Change into one of his favorite pairs of comfortable sweats then eat dinner. Yay, the first real choice he had to make of the day! Hmm, should it be cardboard frozen pizza, TV dinner, or Ramen Noodles? He also had some variation to his evening routine in the form of what was playing on TV or he could surf the web. Facebook or porn? Watch the news at 11:00 and at 11:30 bedtime. The next morning the whole boring cycle would begin again. "You just need a night out," Nat informed him as

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she pushed a wayward blonde strand from her eyes and took the seat across from him. "Come out with Jeni and me tonight. I promise I won't try to set you up on any more blind dates." Brycen narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah, your last attempt was… Well, let's just say, so not my type." "How could you not like Mickey?" Nat snorted. "He even polished your boots." "Oh my God! That was so fucking embarrassing." He rolled his eyes at her as he picked at his sweet roll. "Thanks for reminding me." Mickey had fallen to his knees, bent over, and licked his boots right on the dance floor. The worst part was when Mickey had looked up at Brycen with his puppy dog brown eyes, a pout on his lips and said in a very loud voice, 'Wanna be my daddy?' He couldn't get out of the club fast enough after that little display. He'd also threatened

to

revoke

Nat's

matchmaking

license.

Permanently. "Where the hell did you find him anyway? Spankme-daddy-dot-com? The better question is, why in the hell did you think of me to set him up with?" Nat chuckled. "How was I supposed to know the mild-mannered clerk liked to play daddy games after

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dark?" Brycen popped a piece of his Mallorca sweet roll in his mouth and pointed a finger at her while he spoke. "You're still on the do-not-set-me-up-list until further notice." "Stop talking with your mouth full. It's gross. How are you going to find the love of your life with manners like that?" He shoved a bigger piece in his mouth. "I don't want a date," he grumbled around his food. Natty just rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I mean, I know you love me. I'm simply the greatest thing you've ever laid eyes on and all that, but really? You'd rather sit here watching strangers every Saturday instead of lying snuggled up to some hunky hard body? C'mon Bry. Come out with Jen and me tonight. You need to get out of this funk you've been in since Elijah…" "Ah, ah, ah." Brycen twitched a finger at her. "You are not allowed to talk about he who does not matter and no counseling sessions today. Please. I'm not in the mood." "Bry, you cut so deep with that knife of yours. Moi? Counseling?" She tried for a hurt look as she spoke. Her lips twitched as she held back the smile. "Say it with a straight face next time. Perhaps it will

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be more believable." Nat winked as she rose from her chair. "Gotta get back to the grind, pun most certainly intended. So are you going to come out tonight?" "God, woman! Shoo. I'll endure your session later if you will just let me enjoy my coffee and sweets in peace." "Yay! We're meeting at Jen's at seven." She pecked his cheek as she strolled by. "Wear something sexy." Nat didn't wait for his response, she knew better. 'Wear something sexy' was her way of saying, I'm going to try to set you up with someone. She'd deny it, but it was as if she just couldn't help herself. Natty figured since she found her soul mate in Brad and was disgustingly happy, everyone should be. Her new mission was now trying to find Brycen's soul mate. Whether he wanted her to or not didn't concern her. Natty always had a shoulder to lean on, gave amazing advice without judgment, and was by far his best friend. But, Jesus, she could be a royal pain in the ass. Brycen sipped his coffee, letting the warm flavor soothe him as he stared out the window. The more he thought about going out with Nat and Jen, the better he began to feel. It wasn't as if he had a full social calendar, or any excuse why he couldn't go. He would have fun tonight, that was a given. It was hard not to with those two insane

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women around. Besides, a night out dancing and laughing sure beat the hell out of sitcom reruns or internet porn. **** Somewhere in the strange complexities of the cosmos, this might be a good idea. Nevertheless, John couldn't think of a single place, real or imagined, where it was a good idea for him to be going out to a club, dance club no less. He was going to have to have a serious talk with Luke about his power of persuasion. A night out meeting friends for drinks, a little steak dinner, and taking in a Red Wings game was his idea of a good time. He wasn't even adverse to a local pub, throwing back a few beers, or maybe a game of darts or pool. But dancing? Really? He didn't dance, at least not where anyone could actually see him. He hated the crowds and the constant slam of strangers against him. What he hated the most about dance clubs was by the end of the night, the dancing reminded him more of an orgy to music than dancing. Not that John was a prude by any stretch of the imagination; he just thought there was a time and place for everything. In his opinion, the middle of a crowded dance floor was neither

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the time nor the place for fucking. One minute he had been holding his own, forcing Luke to back down, the next, BAM, dance club plans. He could pinpoint the exact moment he'd lost the battle. It coincided with him agreeing to anything as long as Luke shut the hell up about the disaster known as Jacob. Jacob was a period in his life he wanted to erase. John stood in front of the mirror studying his image with a critical eye, trying to see himself as others might. He kept his thick chestnut hair neatly styled. Some might say it was a little long, since it had a tendency to curl around his collar, but he rather liked it. His eyes, once described as sea foam green, were just green in his opinion. They were okay. His mouth may be just a little too big for his face, lips a little too full, giving the impression that he wore a pout, but at least he had great teeth, thanks to his dad being an orthodontist. Four years of braces could do amazing things. He'd been blessed with his mother's clear olive skin and he worked hard at keeping his six-foot-two frame in shape. He wasn't bulky with muscle, but what muscle he had was well defined. He'd do someone who looked like him. Hell, he wouldn't even have to use a bag. "Listen to yourself!" He glared at the reflection in the mirror. "Your looks have nothing to do with not being

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good enough for Jacob. You simply aren't." He turned from the mirror, threw the damp towel in the direction of the hamper and stalked out of the bathroom. With little thought to his attire, he dressed in a comfortable pair of worn jeans that hung low on his hips and a soft green button-up shirt, adding brown leather shoes and matching belt. That was the extent of 'getting ready.' He had no plans to try to impress anyone tonight. He didn't even plan on dancing. Luke wouldn't need much company. He'd give him an hour, maybe less, and Luke would be off in search of his next conquest. Luke, with his overconfident charm and absence of emotional connection, was the typical Playboy. Find 'em, fuck 'em, and forget 'em was the motto Luke lived by. John could quietly sneak out of the club when Luke was otherwise occupied and be back home, stretched out on the sofa with the remote in his hand in two hours tops. If lucky, he wouldn't even have to miss this week's episode of Supernatural. Neon bar signs, strobe lights, the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke, overpriced watered-down drinks and music so loud it made teeth rattle. Add in two hundred partiers trying to fit onto a dance floor designed to hold seventy-five and you got Jesters. The name said it all. It

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was a joke. It had taken John and Luke an hour to maneuver through the lines waiting outside the club just to get inside. From the looks of the lines at the bar, it would be another hour before he even got his first drink. So much for getting home to watch Dean kick a little demon ass tonight. Grudgingly, he made his way farther into the club and said a little prayer to the gods responsible for watching over playboys. Please help Luke find a conquest quick. With your help, I may get to watch the second half of the show. Amen. By the time he made it close enough to the bar to actually have a chance at getting a drink tonight, his feet had been stepped on more times than he could count. Bruises would be sprouting across his lower back, ribs, and abdomen from the constant jabs from elbows, purses, fists, and a few backs of chairs. He had lost sight of Luke about halfway to the bar, not that it was a huge loss. John, however, did remember to say a little thank you to the playboy deities. No sense pissing them off with ingratitude; he may need their services again in the future. One drink and I'm out of here. He was battered, bruised, and the pounding techno music was starting to rattle his brain. He figured the least he could get for all his

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troubles was a cold beer. Finally, John stepped up to the bar. "Bud," he yelled, pointing toward the cooler. The bartender handed him his beer, taking the five and giving John a grateful look when John waved off the change. The overwhelmed man was probably more grateful he hadn't ordered liquid cocaine or some other complicated drink. John scanned the club with a searching eye. All he needed to do was find a small spot where he could drink his beer, somewhere that wasn't in the middle of the battlefield. As he made it to the end of the bar, a man sitting between two blonde women popped up out of his chair and slammed back into the beer John had fought so hard to get. Unfortunately, the beer tipped back towards him as the shorter man's back collided with John's chest. In the end, the front of his shirt was soaked. "Jesus fucking…" The words died in John's throat as the man turned. He found himself held by wide indigo blue eyes. Anger melted away instantly, the warmth of arousal spread through him as he found himself staring dumbly into those blue eyes. The color reminded him of flowers bordering the hay fields he had once seen on a trip he'd taken with his parents to Kentucky or the indigo blue color he had

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witnessed at dawn breaking on the Yeongsan River. Yet, as magnificent as those sights had been, the eyes looking back at him were the most strikingly beautiful things he'd ever seen in his life. **** The breath Brycen was about to pull into his lungs died in his throat. He looked up to apologize to whomever he'd collided with and instead found himself staring up into green eyes. For an instant the world stopped, the thundering noise of the club faded away into silence and everyone disappeared, leaving him to swim in the depths of sea green eyes. An unspoken communion passed between him and the stranger, something private, important, but just out of the grasp of understanding. The stranger blinked. The spell broke, the sights and sounds of the club coming back in a rush. The intensity of it left him off balance. A dizzying sensation befuddled his brain as blood rushed south. He cleared his constricted throat, making a couple of attempts before finally stuttering out an apology. "I'm… shit, I'm so sorry about that." He grabbed a couple

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of napkins from the bar and reached out to clean up the mess he'd made on the man's shirt. "Let me just get this cleaned up." The stranger raised a hand, warding off Brycen's attempts. "No big deal. Accidents happen," the deep voice rolled out, controlled, confident, and relaxed. The effect of the deep sound was calming to Brycen's unraveling nerves. However, other parts of his anatomy didn't take the voice as calming at all. In fact, a wicked flick of heat wrapped around his hardening flesh like the perfect stroke. That was one powerful weapon. He was soothed and ready to fuck with just the sound of the stranger's voice. Jesus, what else could that voice make me do? He wanted to find out, bad. He glanced down at his long, thick fingers and powerful hands and imagined them roaming and doing tantalizing things to Brycen's flesh as they explored his body. Oh, fuck yeah. Touch me. He definitely wanted to find out. "Can I replace the beer? It's the least I could do." He hoped the noise of the club covered just how breathless his voice sounded. The stranger glanced back toward the line waiting at the bar, before turning those stunning eyes back on Brycen. "Nah. I'm good, really."

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Oh yeah, that voice would be the perfect final addition to lull him to sleep as he basked in the afterglow after an intense night of passion. The kind of voice he could imagine whispering in his ear, urging him awake for round two. A shudder ran down his spine as he imagined this gorgeous man, with his alluring eyes, wrapped around him, their bodies slick with sweat… The punch of pain to his midsection jolted Brycen out of his fantasy. An elbow from an enthusiastic party girl collided with his gut, knocking the wind out his lungs in a rush. It sent his rapidly rising libido faltering in sympathy and snapped him back to reality. "Sorry sugar lump," the stumbling redhead said flippantly as she moved on to collide with the next unsuspecting patron. He had only turned his head for a moment, but it was still long enough that when he turned back, the stranger was walking away in the opposite direction. The urge to run after him was powerful. What could he say to him? He didn't even know his name. Like it matters. He watched as the raging crowd swallowed up the stranger. Not like anything would have come out of knowing the man's name anyway. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what it was he saw in those green

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eyes. Sighing with disappointment, he turned and rejoined Nat and Jeni at the bar.

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Chapter Two The bells above the door at Natty Joe's chimed. Brycen didn't look away from the window. He was lost in his own head, busy watching people scurry past the window, wondering what kind of lives they led and then creating lives for them. How about the elderly woman with the small white dog tucked under her arm, with the bright pink faux fur coat? She was a retired Playboy Bunny. Her name was… umm… Bambi. She lived in a luxurious high-rise penthouse alone with her little white dog named Lily. She survived on the funds from the three rich husbands, each thirty plus years her senior. She had married while still a striking beauty of twenty-something. And the tall, distinguished man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in an Armani suit? He was a prince from a small exotic island. He'd come to Royal Oak in search of the newest addition to his harem of gorgeous women. Strike that. The tall, distinguished man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in an Armani suit? He was a prince from a small exotic island, a place where men with perfectly toned bodies walked naked with sun-kissed skin amongst an 17

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atmosphere of love. A single touch from this prince was pure joy, to be loved by him, rapture. This pleasure god has come to Royal Oak in search of the newest addition to his harem of gorgeous men. Were they still called harems if they were comprised of all males? Perhaps, harmen? Shit! He needed to get a life. His had become so pathetic that he was now spending his Saturday mornings making up lives for strangers. If that wasn't the definition of pathetic, he didn't know what was. Bet if he Googled "pathetic loser,'' he'd find a picture of himself. He could just see it. Pathetic

(comparative

more

pathetic,

superlative most pathetic) Arousing scornful pity, contempt, often due to miserable inadequacy You can't even keep a man? That is pathetic. You spend your Saturdays making up lives for others. That is pathetic. Brycen Anderson ~ most pathetic Elijah had been right in at least one thing, when he'd said, 'This just isn't working for me.' It wasn't fucking working for him either. Too bad he didn't have the same

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options Elijah had because, at the moment, he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than leave his own sorry, boring ass. He'd always pictured his life as coming home at the end of a grueling day of work, snuggling up to someone on the couch and sharing the events of his day and hearing about how their day was. He wanted weekend getaways exploring the sights and sounds of big city life or quiet weekends at a remote country bed and breakfast. He wanted days at St. Clair beach in the summer, enjoying the sun, rubbing suntan oil on his man. In the winter, they would sip hot cider with spiced rum in front of a roaring fire after a day on the slopes. On cold winter nights, he wanted a warm body wrapped around him. Not just any body—he didn't need a different man in his bed every night. He wanted monogamy. Most of the people he knew were living the carefree, party life, hopping from one club to the next and one bed to the next. Instead of enjoying life, he sat home thinking about a life that was never going to happen. By his mid-twenties, he was already bored out of his fucking mind. I need to seriously rethink my priorities. "Don't turn around," Nat whispered in his ear, startling him from his depressing thoughts.

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Brycen started to turn his head, but Nat reached out and placed a hand on either side of his head, stopping his movement. She forced him to face the window. "I said don't turn around." "That's like calling out, 'don't look' in a crowded room. It's called reflexes." "Table six," she said in a low whisper. "Isn't that the guy from the club the other night?" "Who?" "The hot guy." "Nat, you want to narrow it down a wee bit. Three clubs, hundreds of people. Numerous hot guys…" "Yeah, but only one you spilled beer all over." He stiffened at the mention of the stranger he'd encountered at Jesters. It couldn't be. He reached up and pried Nat's hands from his face. Turning discreetly, he peeked around Natty towards table six. His face flushed, his breathing sped, and his heart thudded in his chest before skipping a beat all together. Sitting at the table, dressed in faded jeans, wearing a t-shirt nearly a perfect match to the sea green color of his eyes, was his stranger. Though the man was engrossed in his newspaper, his eyes cast down, the shirt was a perfect match. Brycen was sure of it; those eyes had tormented him

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enough in his dreams lately. Oh, and what visions they were. His body obviously remembered the dreams too, or rather what was done to his body during those dreams. His arousal hardened against the zipper of his jeans. His skin tingled from the rush of blood through his system, on a fast track to places it shouldn't be going. Well, at least, not in public. Definitely not when his best friend was standing behind him. "Oh yeah. From the look on your face, that's him all right," Natty teased. Brycen reluctantly turned away from the man. "Yeah, that's him," he said with a shrug. He tried for indifference, but his voice was a little too strained, a little too breathy to pull it off. "Go talk to him," Nat encouraged. "Excuse me?" he snapped in a quiet voice. "I said, go talk to him. Introduce yourself," Nat said matter-of-factly. "You know you want to." "Nat, I can't just go bother some stranger. I am not going over there and introducing myself, are you crazy? I don't even know if the guy is gay. That kind of shit can get you an ass whooping." He pinned her with a serious glare. "I'm not in the mood for bleeding today." "Ah ha!" she exclaimed loudly as she plopped her

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tiny butt in the seat next to him. "You are interested in him." "Just because you're old doesn't make you wiser. And for the love of God keep your voice down." "Hey! Since when is thirty-two considered old?" Natty slapped him playfully. "I'm in my prime. My boobs aren't even sagging yet." "Thank God for silicone," he teased lightly. "Oh shut up. I am still smart enough to read you like a book. If you weren't interested, you wouldn't have cared if he was gay or not," she pointed out. At least she had lowered her voice. "You would have just gone over, introduced yourself, and bought him a cup of coffee in payment for the spilt beer." Brycen stared, blinking a few times. Damn, she knew him too well. Nat didn't say anything as she held his gaze, her hazel eyes twinkling with amusement, as her fingers tapped out a beat on the tabletop. "What?" he finally asked when he couldn't stand the scrutiny or the silence any longer. "Admit you're interested in him. Admit you've been thinking about him since that night." She poked him none too gently in the ribs. "Oh, and I want details."

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"I'm not admitting to anything and what the hell do you mean details?" he asked feigning confusion. He slapped her hand away. "And dammit, stop poking me." "Yeah, details," Nat repeated with a huff. "You know, details of the hot, steamy dreams Mr Tall-gorgeousbe-still-my-beating-heart, sitting over there at table six, has been playing a lead role in every night." It was a damn good thing the coffee cup he'd begun to lift toward his mouth hadn't reached its target yet, or he'd be spitting coffee across the table. Either she knew him too well, or he was just that predictable. Natty bit her lip, hiding a smile, and winked with pure mischief in her eyes. Yup, she knows me that well. He took a sip of his coffee now that the shock was fading and there was little chance it would wind up in his lap. He worked to school his features. "Even if there was a dream…" "If?" she interrupted. "Shush you," he warned. "Even if there was such a dream, I wouldn't want to tarnish your delicate sensibilities with the kind of graphic details my warped, sex-deprived mind could come up with." "Delicate? Will you remind Brad how delicate I

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am? Maybe he won't make me work so hard." Natty snorted. "And it's your own fault you're deprived." "Like you would ever let Brad run Natty Joe's. Now who's being preposterous?" He completely ignored the second half of her statement. He didn't need a lecture on how he should be out playing the field, hooking up, and having fantastic, meaningless sex. He'd heard it all before. Natty cocked her head, her disheveled blonde locks falling into her eyes as she studied him. "You're right. I need all the reasons I can so my fussing is taken seriously." Brycen chuckled at just how absurd the notion was. "Like you need an excuse." No way in hell Natty would ever sit back and let someone else run her café, including Brad. Brycen had accused her more than once of being a control freak, but she would only admit to the freak part. "He's drinking breakfast blend, black. You are going to buy him one, aren't you?" "No! Don't you have other customers to harass? Fussing to do?" Nat stared at him, her green eyes narrowing as something passed over them. "Fine!" she said as she got to her feet. Without another word, she turned and headed back to the counter.

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Uh oh, something about that look in her eye scared him. The way she gave up way too easily spelled nothing but trouble. Time to go. **** A female voice pulled away John's attention from the sports section. "Compliments of the gentleman by the window." A fresh cup of coffee was set down in front of him. He looked toward the front of the shop and spotted a dark-haired man, sitting alone at a window seat. Something about the thick head of dark curls seemed familiar. "Thanks," he murmured, but the barista had already moved away from his table. John returned his attention back to the familiar man. Where do I know him from? He

ran

through

his

mental

list

of

recent

acquaintances; it had to be someone he knew. A recent customer, someone Luke had introduced him to, or a guy from the gym? He had to know him. Why else would the guy buy him a cup of coffee? John couldn't think of a soul he'd met with thick, heavy curls, so black they were nearly

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blue. Head thrown back, John's name a roar as the man straddling him convulsed in orgasmic ecstasy. John reached above him, his fists tightening around handfuls of soft, black curls. He pulled the man's head down towards him, lips touching, breath mingling as he cried out his own pleasure into the warm, wet heat of his lover's mouth. No… It couldn't be… John had kicked himself repeatedly, called himself ten ways of stupid over the last three weeks. At the very least, he should have introduced himself to the stunning man who had bumped into him at Jesters. Would he get a second chance? Not that he thought anything would have come out of the introduction, but at least he would have had a name to call out in his dreams. A name other than Raven to go with the face he saw as he pleasured himself every night over the past few weeks. A name to go with the face still etched in his brain upon waking from erotic dreams. The man sitting across the way rose from his seat, collected his coffee cup, and turned. John froze. Standing before him was a lean, average-in-height man. He wore jeans and a pale yellow

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pullover, but that was where common descriptions ceased. The rest of the man? Fantasy incarnate. Heart shaped face of pale skin, with golden undertones, the perfect canvas for the artist who created the long elegant nose, the sculpted cheekbones and thin chin. Fine dark brow and deep red hues of his full lips were the colors that painters strived to create with their brush. Still none of the perfection could compete with the eyes. Intense indigo eyes widened in recognition. Never would John forget those eyes. A mix of innocence and wisdom stared back at him. John found himself rising from his chair, not sure what he was going to do, but he would not miss another opportunity to know this man. He felt as if he were being pulled forward by arcane magic, the ropes hidden yet powerful. It was a force he could not fight against, one he obviously didn't want to fight. The world tilted on its axis, the sudden shift caused John to become slightly disoriented before righting himself. The dizzy feeling became a rush, egging him into action. In four long strides, John found himself before the man of his nighttime fantasies, hand out stretched in greeting. What did one say to an angel in greeting? "John," was all he could pull from his dry throat.

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The raven-haired Adonis extended his hand to accept John's in his. Their gazes locked. Skin meeting skin, John's heart exploded into a million tiny pieces. **** The first touch of John's hand in his sent heat racing through Brycen's body. The nighttime images of this stranger had left him trembling in their intensity upon waking. Yet, if something as simple as a caress of hands was enough to weaken his knees, he wouldn't survive the acts his mind had spun through his dreams. As gorgeous as the image of John had been in his head, the real thing… Remarkable. Brycen struggled to get his scrambled brain back online, fought to remember how his throat worked long enough to form words and give his mouth something to do other than hanging open after the jaw drop. "Thank you for the coffee," John said. Christ! That voice was even sexier without the noise of the crowded club. "Coffee?" he asked in confusion. Oh, that was intelligent. Way to go. Not only do you

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look like a complete moron with your mouth agape, clutching on to the man's hand… Shit. He released the tight grip he had on John's hand, instantly missing the warmth. "Yeah, thanks for sending over the cup of coffee," he said with a shrug and a shy smile on his lips. "It was thoughtful of you." Byrcen shot a glare at Natty standing at the counter and got a sly grin and a wink for his attempt at trying to send daggers at her through his eyes. She would pay for this later. "Um… actually I can't take credit for that." He returned his attentions back to John. "Credit goes to the meddling barista," Brycen murmured, slightly embarrassed. Brycen followed John's gaze back to Natty. She at least had the good sense to look embarrassed as she turned away, attempting to look busy by wiping down the already spotless counter. "Friend of yours?" John laughed. "Sometimes, other times I question it," Brycen grumbled. "I wouldn't feel right in wasting your friend's generosity, even if it was at your expense. Care to join me?" Great, now he sounded like some charity case.

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Natty's attempt at matchmaking had probably embarrassed the poor guy. Brycen would love to have the chance to know this man better, but he didn't want to be an inconvenience for him either. He was sure John now felt obligated to ask Brycen to join him. Damn Natty and her meddling anyway. The best he could do was try and come up with some kind of excuse to save at least a little dignity. He met John's eyes once more and his cheeks heated. "That's very nice of you, but not necessary. Natty means well, she just thought I owed you for your beer I spilt." He gave a short laugh, trying to make it sound light. "She thinks it's her duty to make sure I have proper manners. Keep my male genes from reverting to their caveman tendencies." "I wasn't trying to be nice." Those captivating eyes held his. "Well, I was trying to be nice, but I wouldn't mind the company." Brycen didn't doubt the sincerity in John's voice or the soft look in his eyes. He probably wouldn't mind the company, but that wasn't to say he wanted the company. It's just not working for me. Man, that little voice inside his head was an annoying little shit, constantly reminding him that he just wasn't good enough. Then again, it was true. No point

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making John have to endure spending his quiet Saturday morning with him. It was best to keep John as his perfect fantasy man and not tarnish it by what surely would be disappointment on John's part. "Thanks, but I was just heading out and sorry about the beer the other night. Enjoy your coffee." John shrugged. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you up… I…" He held out his hand. "Hey have a great day. It was nice to meet you." Brycen took the offered hand and the same intense feeling surged up his arm from the point of contact, exploding through his body. His knees wobbled a little. The ache in his groin that started when he first looked at John grew to a painful throb. "Yeah. Nice to have met you too," he answered honestly. He watched as John made his way back to his table. Damn, that is one fine ass. Oh yeah, just the right amount of cocky swagger. God, the way those muscles just flex and release with each step. Mmmmm! He watched that perfect ass until John took his seat and hid the delectable vision from him. With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed out the door. The one good thing was the little annoying voice was silent. That part of his brain was completely overshadowed by the other part screaming,

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Holy fuck am I horny. Before the door closed, he called back over his shoulder, "I'm out of here Nat. We will talk later." Much later, after he had a chance to spend some time alone with his hand and visions of John. **** John took his seat at the café table and tried not to stare at Brycen's ass as he walked out the door, though it took great effort. He replayed the conversation over and over, what he should have said versus what he had said. He tried to think of what he could have said to draw out the conversation, what he could have done to entice the man to join him for coffee. Coming up with a witty dialogue was easy now that he was no longer standing so close to him. "Hi, I had a wet dream about you last night. Want to share a cup of coffee with me and discuss how to make it a reality?" "Hi, can you pull this heart-shaped arrow out of my ass? A damn little kid with wings shot me." Okay, so maybe he wasn't that witty, though he had to admit the wet dream line was closer to reality than he would have ever admitted to. In truth, his body had reacted so strongly that his brain hadn't had a chance to keep up.

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He'd been busy trying to focus on slowing his breathing so he wasn't outright panting, and his heart had been thudding so painfully in his chest he was sure every patron of Natty Joe's had heard it. He couldn't remember ever meeting anyone that had affected him so powerfully. He groaned in discomfort and shifted in his seat. The tightness in his jeans was a testament to just how affected he was. The physical effects had only been a part of it: little flashes of his naughty nighttime show that his mind had been directing for the last few weeks kept popping in his head, how those blue eyes had looked when full of passion and pleasure. He hadn't been able to focus on much beyond that and was just thankful he'd had the presence of mind not to start trying to reenact the script right there in front of God and everyone. Fuck, he had wanted to. Those dark curls had called to him. He had wanted so badly to run his fingers through them, to know if they were as soft and silky as they appeared to be. Only by sheer force of will had he not given in to the craving to kiss those luscious lips. Were they as soft and delicious as they looked? How would they taste? Would his flavor be as exotic as Raven's eyes? Raven?

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Jesus you didn't even ask him his name. Way to go, dickweed. Way to make a great first impression. With a disgusted grunt, he pushed away from the table and stood. Trying to be as discreet as possible, he adjusted the very obvious effect the man had on him and left a nice tip for the barista on the table, a thank you, so to speak, for her attempts. It wasn't her fault he couldn't have a half-intelligent conversation with a man he found so attractive. "Loser," he mumbled to himself as he walked toward the door and out of Natty Joe's.

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Chapter Three "Just plain black coffee this morning, Nat," Brycen called out as he stepped into Natty Joe's and headed to his usual seat. The stronger, the better. He settled into his seat and his Saturday morning ritual. Coffee, watch strangers pass by outside the window, nowhere to be, boring as hell, Saturday morning ritual. The only thing different this morning from any other Saturday was that after a week of little sleep, he was too exhausted to make up lives for the people who strolled by. Hurray, a bump in the highway of my life. "Wow, you look like shit." "Good morning to you too, little Miss Sunshine," he drawled sarcastically. "No really, you look like shit." She set his coffee down on the table and took the seat across from him. "Are you sick?" Sick of the constant nighttime visits from John. His damn sexy voice driving me out of my Goddamn mind and his sexy as hell body doing unspeakable things to my body. Sick and tired of waking up with a raging hard-on that is nearly too painful to touch. I'm sick of having to wake up 35

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and wash my sticky sheets in the morning, but physically sick? Nope, just horny as fuck. Brycen took a sip of his coffee and began to choke on the foul, bitter flavor the instant it registered on his taste buds. "Jesus, Nat. What the hell is this crap?" he sputtered. The disgusting liquid clung to his tongue like thick sludge. Good God, is the woman trying to poison me? At least he'd be out of his misery. "They call it the morning after brew," Natty said with a pleased smile. "Just got it in today, supposed to be good for a hangover." Natty cocked her head and studied him. "You don't like it? It's huge with the club kids." He sat the offending brew down in front of him and pushed it away. "We're talking about people who pay forty dollars for a bottle of Bling H2O," he muttered in exasperation. "It's not like you can trust their judgment. It's water, for Christ sakes. Besides, I do not have a hangover. I'm just tired." Natty's eyes took on a wicked gleam. "Was he worth it? Did he have a big…?" "Shut up, you," Brycen interrupted. "Is your mind always in the gutter?" "I tried pulling myself out of the gutter once." Natty snickered. "I got bored."

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"Can you pull yourself up out of it long enough to get me a real cup of coffee? Please." "Oh sure, sorry, be right back. I still want details," Natty said as she jumped up and headed back to the counter. Hopefully, she was going for something from the fields of Juan Valdez, good to the last drop, or anything one-hundred percent Columbian. As long as it helped wake up his sleep-deprived brain and didn't taste like paint thinner, he'd be a happy man, still horny but much happier about it. She wants details? "Mind if I join you?" a deep, seductive voice asked behind him. Great! Now I'm hearing John's deep, sexy voice in my waking hours. His attention was drawn to the sumptuous image taking the seat next to him, seeing shit too, he thought. "We didn't get a proper introduction last weekend. Thought I'd try and rectify that." John held out his hand. "I'm John." Right, as if I would ever forget your name. "Brycen," he replied as he took the offered hand. John had a warm, firm grip as he shook Brycen's hand. The

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contact set off sparks through his body, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the moan that was building. He held it back by pure force of will, not allowing its way up and out of him. "Brycen," John echoed. A satisfied look on his face, as if he'd just figured out the answer to a difficult equation. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Brycen?" **** Brycen, my mysterious, sensual Raven. It stood to reason, someone as sexy as Brycen would have an equally sexy name. When friends described John, they usually used words like shy and reserved. He was usually the kind of person who would sit in a crowded room of strangers and watch life move around him without interacting, content to be an observer until someone approached him. Yet, here he was approaching a virtual stranger. He held his breath while his heart pounded a snappy tune in his chest, all the while praying Brycen would accept his offer. "Actually, Natty's already got my order." Brycen ducked his head. His cheeks flushed and he looked up at John from under long curling lashes and asked, "Can I

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order you something?" John didn't even try to hide the pleasure Brycen's words gave him. He smiled broadly. "Sure, that'd be great." "Cool. What would you like?" "Just black coffee, I don't know what half those fancy things on the menu are." John shrugged as he said, "I like it simple." "Hey Natty, make that two normal black coffees," Brycen yelled out gleefully. "Normal?" he asked. "Yeah, you don't want her trying to pawn off her newest trend." Brycen shivered. "Trust me." He couldn't help but chuckle at the cute way Brycen wrinkled up his nose. "Thanks for the advice. I'll keep that in mind. So you come here often?" John groaned. Fuck that was almost as cheesy as the heart shaped arrow in my ass line. Brycen flashed him a brilliant smile. "Yeah, you could say that." The smile did odd things to his gut; it was as if butterflies had suddenly taken flight. The way his dick twitched was totally expected. He had been half-hard all morning, hoping to see Brycen again. The instant he spotted the dark-haired man, it had gone on full erect alert.

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What he hadn't anticipated was the feeling in his gut and the tightness in his chest. They were the more powerful reactions. "That didn't come out right. What I meant to ask was, are you from around here?" Not that it was much better than 'do you come here often,' but it was a start. "Just a few blocks up the road actually." Brycen picked at the napkin on the table and peeked up shyly from under those gorgeous lashes. "And I work down on the corner." "What is it you do?" "I'm a paralegal for Michael, Michael, and Lynn." So he wasn't just a pretty face. "Sounds interesting." "Not really." Brycen shrugged. "What about you? You work around here?" "Uh yeah." He swallowed hard, trying to make his brain work. Hard as hell to do while sitting across from someone as handsome as Brycen. "I just opened a bike shop on the outskirts of town." "Motor or pedal?" Brycen cocked his head and studied him for a second. "I'm guessing motor. You don't look like the pedal bike kind of guy." "No?" He chuckled. "And just what does a pedal bike kind of guy look like?"

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Brycen's ears went red. He waved his hand at John. "Not you." Their eyes met and Brycen held his gaze longer than would be deemed appropriate. The butterflies in his belly went berserk and the tightness in his chest turned into a warmth that spread throughout him. Had there been any doubt before, it was erased. Those blue eyes said everything John needed to know. They were full of attraction and desire; he was sure that if he were standing in front of the mirror, the same heated gaze would be staring back at him. Thank you, dear Jesus, for answering that prayer. "Two boring black coffees." John reluctantly turned from Brycen and looked up as a pretty, blonde barista set two mugs down in front of them. "Thank you." "I'm Natty. Anything you need to know about Brycen, I'm the person to ask." "Natty." Brycen's voice was full of warning. Natty was a cute little thing, her delicate features giving the impression of sweet and innocent until he got a glimpse of the devilish look in her eyes. She may be tiny, but she was obviously fearless, ignoring Brycen's warning and jumping right into the conversation.

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"Did he tell you he's a paralegal? Is a complete neat freak so his apartment is always spotless and he never leaves dirty underwear on the floor?" "Natty, I'm warning you," Brycen hissed. She waved him off and leaned on his shoulder. "He's an all around great guy and, if you haven't noticed, has the cutest ass in the state of Michigan." She waggled her brows at him. "Though yours might run a close second." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "Just don't tell my husband I said that." John chuckled as Natty jumped out of the way just in time to avoid the swat Brycen tried to inflict upon her. "I'm John." He licked his lips and turned back again to meet Brycen's eyes. "And, yeah, I noticed." "Smart man. He's a keeper, Bry," Natty said approvingly. As she walked away, she tossed over her shoulder, "Nice to meet you, John." She was gone before he had a chance to reply. Brycen cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sorry about that." He wasn't. It was good to know that Brycen was an all-around great guy, single, and didn't leave his dirty underwear on the floor. Sounded just about like the perfect combination in his book. He did not, however, need anyone

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to tell him about Brycen's ass. He already knew the man had a fine, fine ass. "Is she always such a little whirlwind?" "Pretty much." Brycen sat and stared at him for a long moment before taking a sip from his mug. "She's kind of biased." "Oh I don't know about that," he teased. "She was dead on about your ass." A breath shuddered out of John as Brycen's eyes went wide and then narrowed into a lustful gaze. "Other way around." **** AH HELL, had he really just said that aloud? He was going to kill Natty, right after he kissed her that was. The comment about his ass had been embarrassing, though he was sure it would have been more embarrassing had John not agreed with Natty. That was the kiss her part. He knew exactly what John thought. The way he had looked at him when he'd agreed with Natty's assessment told him everything he needed to know, at least about the attraction thing. The kill her part was for bringing up his dirty underwear. Jesus, didn't the woman have any couth? Brycen leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his coffee. Darting a quick look around the coffee house, he was reminded they weren't alone. No more talk about

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anyone's ass unless he wanted to shame himself further. "You said you owned a bike shop?" "Yeah." John smiled. "Actually half owner. My dad is the majority shareholder. He's the money and I'm the glorified wrench monkey. Dad lies on the beach in Tampa with his beach bunny of the week and I run the shop. " "Are you close to your parents?" "Let's just say Dad and I don't always see things eye to eye. But, yeah, I guess we're close. My mom died when I was thirteen." A mournful tone had settled into John's voice, and Brycen instantly regretted having asked the question. "I'm sorry." "Thank you. It was tough but I'm thankful for the years I did have with her. She was great." He looked at Brycen thoughtfully. "What about you? Are you close with your family?" He stepped right into that one, didn't he? He didn't want to put an even bigger damper on it than when he had forced John to think about his mom. Talking about what a shit family he had would only bring it down further. He was trying to think of a way to avoid the subject when the sounds of Ozzie belting out, All Aboard… Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, interrupted him.

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John fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. "Sorry about that," he said as he flipped open the phone. Brycen relaxed, thankful for the perfectly timed call. **** "Hello." "Where in the fuck are you?" John bit back his first response of fuck off to Luke's greeting. He settled instead for, "Kind of busy right now. What's up?" "Kind of busy?" Luke asked incredulously. "You better be busy driving that piece of shit car of yours to the shop," Luke huffed. Frowning, John tried to get a grasp on what Luke was talking about and glanced down at his watch. Shit! He had been so focused on getting to know Brycen he'd forgot about the client coming to discuss a custom paint job on his hog. He looked up at Brycen who waited patiently and groaned. "Be there in ten." He flipped his phone shut and stood. "Sorry, I gotta run." Brycen nodded in understanding. John could swear he saw disappointment in those expressive indigo blue eyes. It made him feel better that he wasn't the only one that didn't want their time together to end. He fought the

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urge to say fuck it and sit back down and spend a little more time lost in those eyes, but he was the only one at the shop who could do the custom work. He needed this job. Any other time he might have given in to the urge, but he'd just opened his bike shop and he simply couldn't turn down the prospect for work. "No problem." Brycen blinked, and then offered his hand. "It was nice having the company." He threw some bills on the table to cover the coffees and took Brycen's hand. "Have dinner with me?" Brycen looked a little startled at John's request. Hell, he was startled he would ask. Normally, he wasn't this forward. He reluctantly released Brycen's hand and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, found one of his new business cards, and threw it on top of the wad of money. "Don't answer yet, just think about it. If you decide you want to, give me a call. No pressure." Brycen picked up the card, flipped it between his fingers a couple of times before he turned those stunning eyes on him. A slight smile curved his lips as he muttered, "I'll call you later and give you directions to my place." John reached down and picked his jaw up off the floor before replying, "Great! Talk to you soon." He held himself in check as he walked to the door

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and out of the coffee shop. Once he was past the view of the window, he started his happy dance. Fuck yeah. He had a date. **** "No!" Brycen growled. "What do you mean no?" Natty asked as she held up a pair of jeans. He should have thrown out those jeans after the last time he wore them. He should have known after the bitch of a time he had getting them zipped up they weren't going to be comfortable. He'd forced himself into them and spent the entire evening having to stand up. It wasn't too bad until a sexy little twink decided to rub up against him on the dance floor like a cat in heat—instant stiffie. On most occasions, it would not have been a problem. In fact, if he remembered correctly, there had been more than one set of appreciative eyes falling on his crotch. Of course, those lust-filled gazes just made the whole thing that much worse. While wearing comfortable loose-fitting jeans at a club, sporting an erection is expected even appreciated in some cases. When wearing a size too small jeans at the same club? Not so much. It had been impossible to sit,

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unless he wanted to give a completely new meaning to the term 'choke your chicken.' "Who invited you anyway?" he grumbled. Nat tossed the jeans on top of the growing pile of clothes on the bed and ran a hand through her hair, causing it to stand up and point in a hundred different directions. "You didn't actually think I would let you get away with wearing the same old tired jeans and T-shirt you normally wear, do you?" He gave Nat his signature eye roll. There was nothing wrong with his clothes. "I like my worn jeans and T-shirts, they're comfortable," he said defensively. He didn't care what she said—he wasn't going to wear those jeans within a hundred miles of John. If he thought the last time he wore them was painful, wearing them around John would do permanent damage to parts of his anatomy that he was very fond of, thank you very much. "Who cares about comfort? Sexy isn't always about what's comfortable. Haven't you ever heard the term it hurts to be beautiful?" Nat studied him for a moment, tilting her head to the side inquisitively. "We can come back to the clothes later, what about your hair? How should we style it?" He threw his hands up in frustration and stalked out

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of the bedroom. "It's just dinner, Nat," he reminded her as he walked down the hall. "And guys don't need to be beautiful. Rugged, sexy, hot, but not beautiful. See? No need for the pain." "Just dinner?" The shock was evident in her voice as she followed him to the living room. "Yup." "You cannot have just dinner with a God-like creature named John." He handed over her sweater. "Just dinner, Nat," he replied as he started to nudge her toward the front door. "Will you at least wear some sexy underwear? Cosmo says wearing sexy underwear makes you feel sexier." He opened the door. "And don't forget breath mints. No one wants to kiss someone with stinky breath." "Good night, Nat." He pecked her cheek. She studied him for a long moment. "You're right," she said as she placed a kiss on his cheek. "You're already sexy enough." Natty turned and started down the hall. Without looking back, she yelled, "At least think about the underwear. It can't hurt." "Bye, Nat."

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"And the mints." "Bye." He closed the door, but not before he heard her yell out, "And I want details." What the hell was it with her and details? From the constant smile on Brad's face and Nat's innuendos, it was a given that they fucked like bunnies. Yet she was always pumping him for details. If she wants details of hot sexy men going at it, he would send her the latest novel he just read. That author could write details that would make ugly ogres sexy as fuck. Brycen laughed to himself. One Christmas present checked off the list. He headed back to his bedroom to get ready for dinner as he shook his head. He was never going to figure women out. Even so, they did have good ideas from time to time. A smile spread across his face. "Like sexy underwear."

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Chapter Four John stood outside apartment two-fifteen and took long, deep breaths. He had spent the last few minutes trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. Fuck, he hadn't been this nervous since the first time he and his junior high buddy, Mark, had played their own version of I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Taking another deep breath, he rolled his shoulders and reached out to knock on the door. The door opened and Brycen's eyes locked with his, a dazzling smile blooming across his face that made John's toes curl. Good God, the man was gorgeous. "Hey," Brycen said as he stepped back. He moved just far enough to allow him to enter. The brush of their arms as he moved past Brycen was enough to send a tantalizing thrill down his spine. "C'mon in, can I get you something to drink?" The whiskey smooth sound of his voice had the nervous jitters quickly replaced by a completely new kind of tingle. "Yeah, beer if you've got it." "Two beers coming up. Make yourself at home," Brycen said as he waved his arm and ushered him into the living room. 51

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John stepped into the spacious, contemporary apartment, the walls painted a medium gray, highlighted with white trim. The white couches coupled with side tables and a coffee table painted a deep, almost black, glossy gray gave the room a clean, modern look. Splashes of bright red color were scattered around the room in what appeared to be a random manner. The room held his attention for only half a second. It could have been the Taj Mahal and it still wouldn't have been able to hold a candle to the view crossing the room. He nearly drooled as he noticed the way Brycen's jeans hugged his firm thighs, the stretch of his blue T-shirt across his back and shoulders. However, it was the sweet, firm ass, swaying sensually with each step that kept him from looking away. He was a vision that sent his thoughts to speed past playfully naughty, careening out of control toward the sweat-slick-bodies-pounding-together zone. He closed his eyes but not before the image caused an involuntary moan to pass his lips. "You okay?" Brycen asked, concerned. He stepped forward and held out a beer. "You looked a little lost for a minute there." John saw his lips twitch in slight amusement. He took the offered beer and bowed his head, hiding

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his heated cheeks. Guess it was his turn for embarrassing moments. For fuck sake, have a little control, he chided himself. "Yeah I'm good. Just zoned for a minute." It was the wrong kind of zone to be in when standing in front of his walking wet dream. The loose jeans he'd chosen to wear did little to hide his growing erection. He needed to get them to the restaurant and out of Brycen's apartment, somewhere there wasn't a bed, a couch, the floor. He groaned in frustration, the thrum of blood in his swollen shaft reminded him just how achingly long it had been. Christ! How the hell was he going to survive until dessert? He turned with the pretense of checking out his surroundings while casually sipping his beer. He tried to will his growing arousal down. It was going to be a long dinner, a very long, very painful dinner if he couldn't control his hunger. And that hunger couldn't be sated with anything that would be on the menu at The Road House. Maybe a quick trip to a private stall would at least make it endurable. When he turned back around, Brycen was taking a long pull from his beer. John's eyes narrowed in on the way those lush lips pressed against the opening and the throb increased. The threads on his control began to unravel,

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nearly shredding when Brycen lowered his beer and licked his lips. That's it. I'm only human. He downed his beer in one long pull and set it on the side table. "Ready?" Brycen looked at him in confusion. "Uh yeah, I guess." John had chosen The Road House based on a suggestion from Luke. Considering Luke's personality, he wouldn't have to worry about offending anyone if dinner became romantic. If he were lucky, it would be the first of many romantic dinners he'd share with Brycen. With his past lack of success with relationships, luck had never been on his side. As much as he hoped this was the first of many, the odds were against him. The host greeted them warmly, showed them to their table and, once seated, he handed them each a menu. "Tonight's special is Prime Cut Filet with choice of Cajun Lobster Tail or Alaskan King Crab Legs, Chicken Marsala with Lemon, Butter and Parsley and our featured appetizer is Maryland Crab Cakes with Lobster Bisque Sauce." The waiter filled their water glasses. They ordered drinks and John waited until the host moved away before asking, "Everything sounded amazing.

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Have you ever been here before?" Brycen set his menu down on the table. "Yeah a few times. I highly recommend the filet." His stomach growled loudly in obvious approval. He closed his own menu and set it down. "Filet it is, then." "How do you like the place?" Brycen asked. "I usually treat myself to a night out here once a month. The food is top notch and the atmosphere is comfortable." John stole a quick glance around the room, the low lighting, stucco walls, vaulted ceilings gave the room an Old World elegant feel and was cozy with a romantic ambiance. He was relieved to see that no one seemed to be paying them any attention. In fact, many of the same sex couples were enjoying what looked to be intimate dinners. "I think the place is great, and I hope that since you said you treat yourself, I haven't chosen a place where you normally bring your dates?" "First time here on a date." Brycen gave him a shy smile, his cheeks tinting pink. "I don't date very much." John smiled broadly, thrilled that he was the first to bring Brycen here and even more pleased with the rest of his statement. "Then I'm glad I chose this place," he said, reaching out and laying a hand over Brycen's. "Me too," Brycen responded softly. His blush

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deepened and he tried to hide it behind his water glass as he took a sip. To John's delight, Brycen turned over his hand and entwined their fingers. "Well, you have great taste in restaurants. What else do you recommend to do in Royal Oak, say for a second date," John hinted. "Oh that's right. You're not from around here. Well, you've already been to the best restaurant and the best coffee shop in town. Memorial Park is a great place to hang out, they have free concerts and art exhibits in the summer. In the winter we're only twenty minutes from the Joe Louise Arena, well depending on traffic." He liked that Brycen hadn't recommended all the different bars in town. It said a lot about a man who suggested art fairs and parks instead of dancing and drinking. "You like hockey?" Brycen's eyes lit up. "I love hockey! I bought season tickets for the Red Wings a couple years ago." His hand waved around emphasizing his excitement better than his words. "Datsyuk is a god! The way he can steal a puck is magical. Though I have to admit Chris Draper is my favorite, the way he's always smiling. I read an article where someone asked him why he was always smiling and I loved his response. Even after all these years

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in the NHL, he's still in awe and appreciates being there every time he gets on the ice. I think that's cool." John thought it was pretty cool that Brycen would pick a player who wasn't known for being the best player on the team but rather for his happy smile. "Yeah, Datsyuk is okay." "Just okay? Are you kidding me?" Brycen said incredulously. He started clicking off stats until he noticed the sly grin on John's face and shook his head. "Sorry I get a little excited about the boys from Hockeytown." "I do like a man who knows his hockey," John chuckled. "Maybe we could catch a game sometime together?" "That would be great." The waitress came with their drinks and took their orders, interrupting their conversation, but the minute she walked away, they slipped back into a playful banter. Even after their food was served, it continued. John was distracted more than once from the conversation as he watched Brycen eat. Brycen was a sensualist, and it was obvious food gave the man pleasure. John couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed someone's company so much or been so turned on by simply watching someone eat. Even so, the physical attraction, though significant, was

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only a small part of what turned him on. He'd expected someone who looked like Brycen to be cockier. He'd met many men, not nearly as hot as Brycen, who were completely full of themselves. Brycen was humble and seemed completely unaware of just how beautiful he was. It was refreshing. Brycen pushed his empty plate away with a huge sigh. "I give. I can't eat another bite." His gaze was drawn to the way Brycen reached down and rubbed his flat abdomen. Long fingers caressed the firm muscles beneath the cotton material of his shirt. "Aw c'mon, I hear they make the most amazing chocolate lava cake," John teased. "I hear it's warm, sweet, and gooey." He let his voice drop to a deeper level. "I like warm." Brycen looked up at him from under his thick lashes. "And gooey." The visual of Brycen's naked body flashed behind his eyes. John met his gaze and the flutter in his stomach created a pleasant tickling. He continued to stare into those blue eyes as he flushed with sexual heat. John deliberately let the tip of his tongue moisten his dry lips. A shiver raced down his spine as he watched Brycen swallow hard and squirm in his seat. Brycen's eyes darted quickly to their surroundings,

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before meeting John's with an embarrassed look. "Maybe I better just settle for an after dinner coffee." It was charming how easily Brycen blushed, and every time he turned his shy smile on John, the arousal would fuse with tenderness. He ordered two coffees and continued to stare at his date as Brycen took in the room around him. Everything about the man fascinated him, from his humble demeanor, to the way he got excited and talked with his hands when he was passionate about something. Brycen seemed to have a depth to his character; he found himself wanting to know everything about him. John thanked the waitress as she set two mugs of coffee down on the table, but he couldn't take his eyes from Brycen. Taking his mug, John leaned back into his chair and asked, "Have you always lived here?" before taking a sip of his coffee. "About an hour north," Brycen replied sipping his own coffee. "But my buddies and I used to hang out here when we were in high school. I like the diversity of people. What about you, did you like growing up in a small town?" He knew what Brycen meant about diversity without even having to ask. "It was alright, though I didn't have the option of hanging out in a big town too often. I spent most of my spare time wrenching on one broken

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down cycle or another or trying to destroy one on the trails." "Well, you must be good at it. I think it's great that you took something you enjoyed as a kid and turned it into a career." "Thanks," John smiled at Brycen's praise, even if it was unwarranted. It didn't take a lot of smarts to turn a wrench, but he liked that Brycen thought it was cool. "What about you? What did you want to be when you grew up?" "I always wanted to be a goalie in the NHL," Brycen chuckled. "But the first time I took a puck in the mouth, I got over that career choice real fast. I liked to cook,

but…"

Brycen

shrugged,

looking

a

little

uncomfortable. "It's just a hobby." "I bet you're a great cook." Brycen ducked his head, sipping from his coffee, and shrugged again. "I'm better at making reservations." He seriously doubted that. The way Brycen always seemed so aware of his surroundings, taking everything in, he would bet the man was a perfectionist with an eye for detail. "So about that dessert?" Brycen asked, changing the subject quickly.

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"You mean the chocolate lava cake?" "Yeah the warm and gooey one." He was enjoying getting to know Brycen and had a hundred other questions he wanted to ask, but he also didn't want to make him feel anymore uncomfortable. Plus, the way his date was suddenly looking at him with a come hither look in his eyes, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Warm and gooey is a personal favorite of mine," he purred. "Really?" Brycen asked as he leaned in closer to John. "What else is on that list of personal favorites?" "Hard." He leaned in. He came within inches of Brycen's mouth. "Tight." "We have that in common," Brycen muttered in a breathy tone. John leaned in the last couple of inches until their lips were nearly touching. He could taste the spice and wine of Brycen's breath on his tongue as he inhaled deeply. "Fast?" "Sometimes," Brycen cooed. "Though other times, sweet and slow has its appeal." They sat there suspended for a long moment. Neither of them moved forward that last mere breath of distance. Anticipation of finally feeling Brycen's lips

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against his sent John's heart rate into a rapid beat. A throat cleared and both he and Brycen jumped at the sound, sitting back in their chairs. John looked up at the knowing but pleased smile on the waitress's face. "Can I get you gentleman anything else?" she asked as she began clearing the empty plates from the table. "No, thank you," Brycen said, sounding a little flustered. "Everything was wonderful, but I'm stuffed to the gills." "How about you, sir? Would you like dessert?" she asked, turning her attention to John. A wicked thought popped into his mind. "Actually, I'd like a piece of your lava cake." He winked at Brycen. "To go." By the time they made it back to Brycen's apartment, John was shaking with need. Brycen's warm hand on his thigh, the heated sidelong glances thrown his way, and his spicy scent filling his small car had him wild with lust. He was damned lucky he hadn't lost control of his car. The instant they stepped into the apartment, John had Brycen's lean body pushed up against the closed door. "Fuck, I have wanted to do this all night." John groaned as he took Brycen's face in his hands and brought their mouths together.

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There was nothing soft about the kiss. It was hard and fierce, full of pent up tension and need. John licked and nibbled at Brycen's lips as he pulled the lithe body tight against his own. Brycen wrapped an arm around his waist, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. John probed at Brycen's mouth until the man groaned, opening and allowing him entrance to the warm heat. Brycen's flavor exploded across his tongue and he locked his knees to keep from falling with the intensity. He slid his hands into Brycen's hair, his dark curls even silkier than imagined. He tilted Brycen's head back farther and plunged his tongue into the depths of his mouth. The kiss became feral, a clash of tongues and lips, both fighting to win dominance. The sounds of passion filled the room, the deep moans making a perfect kind of melody. John ground his hard shaft against Brycen's equal hardness, causing the man to cry out. John pulled the moan inside, demanded more as he rolled his hips. He frantically humped against the bulging erection and tight belly pressed against him. Without warning, John was suddenly teetering on the verge of exploding. "Jesus," John panted, drawing large gasps of breath

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into his lungs as he broke the kiss. His heart hammered in his chest as he fought to get his body back under control. Fuck, that was close. The last thing he wanted was to come in his pants like some damn teenager, not when he had a creature like Brycen in his arms. Brycen closed his eyes and bit down on his lip. His skin flushed and he trembled slightly as he breathed deeply through his nose. Good to know Brycen was as deeply affected as he was. John leaned back in and playfully nibbled at Brycen's kiss-swollen lips. He tightened his hold on Brycen and backed them away from the door until the backs of his calves encountered the couch. He twisted and fell onto the couch with Brycen stretched out beneath him. "Where were we?" John murmured against Brycen's mouth. "Right here," Brycen moaned in reply as he wrapped his arms around John's neck and sucked at his lips. Situating himself more firmly between Brycen's spread legs, he leaned back just enough to grant access to the waistband of Brycen's jeans, popped the button, and eased down the zipper carefully. A harsh moan from deep in his chest escaped as the wet tip of Brycen's cock pushed up out of his boxers. Brycen's arousal slicked the way as he

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ran the tip of one finger across the leaking slit. His mouth watered. "Is this all for me?" he purred. "Oh fuck yeah," Brycen murmured. His hips jerked, pushing his arousal harder against John's hand. "John, don't tease." He growled at the need in Brycen's voice. His own weeping cock pulsed hard against the stiff denim. A strangled gasp escaped Brycen as John wrapped a hand firmly around his thick shaft. He stroked the soft skin over hard steel, the heat radiating against his palm, yet it was the blue fire in Brycen's eyes that stole his breath. "So gorgeous," he whispered, voice thick with arousal. John lowered his head, never losing contact with those incredible eyes, as he placed a soft kiss to Brycen's lips as he slowly stroked the hard shaft. He wanted this man with an all-consuming need. Needed him. The revving of an engine followed by the first notes of 'Born to Be Wild' filled the room. The ring tone for his shop at this time of night was enough to wake his lustdrugged brain. "Damn!" John released Brycen and rose up, sat back on his knees and struggled to get his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. John leaned down and brushed his lips against

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Brycen's. "Hold that thought." He flipped his phone open. "If this isn't important, I'm going to fucking kill you." Luke's frantic voice came through the line. "Dude, someone just tried to break into the shop." Alarm tightened in John's gut. "Is everyone all right?" "Yeah, no one was here. Cops won't let me go in though to check what is missing. They say it has to be you." He looked down at Brycen sprawled out on the couch. John cleared his constricted throat. "Can we do this in the morning?" he pleaded with Luke. "Cops say they can't let anyone fix the door until it's been checked. What's so important you can't come now anyway?" John tore his gaze from Brycen. "Nothing. I'll be right there," he growled in irritation. "Dude, was you getting some?" Luke chuckled. "Man, what shit timing. You want me to stall the cops and give you a chance to finish?" "Shut up." "Better yet want me to come keep your man company while you entertain the cops?" John could

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practically see the sly grin on Luke's face. The voice on the other end snorted with laughter. "Fuck off." John ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket. "Everything okay?" Brycen asked. He winced as he tucked himself back into his jeans. I know the feeling. "Seems someone tried breaking into my bike shop tonight. Cops are waiting for me to come take an inventory to see what's missing." Brycen sat up and tucked his feet under him as he straightened his clothes. "Wow! That sucks." "What sucks is leaving you." He leaned over and placed a kiss against Brycen's swollen lips. "Please tell me we can meet up later? Maybe pick up where we left off if they don't keep me too late?" Sincere blue eyes met his. "I'd like that." John placed another soft kiss on Brycen's mouth, reluctantly stood and moved toward the door. "Hopefully I won't be gone long. I'll call you as soon as I can." "I'll be here." He took one last look over his shoulder before he stepped out of the apartment. With that waiting for me? He shook his head as he made his way to his car. No way

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would he be going soft anytime soon.

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Chapter Five Bright early morning sun streamed through the bedroom window. Brycen blinked and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to adjust to the harsh light, feeling slightly disoriented until the familiar surroundings of his bedroom came into focus. The last thing he remembered was climbing into bed, phone within reach, and waiting for John's call. Throwing off the covers, Brycen glanced at the empty side of the bed; it was obvious John hadn't returned the night before. If the fact there was no warm body on the other side of his bed wasn't enough of a clue, then the throbbing, unfulfilled cock currently tenting his sexy underwear made it painfully clear. With a groan, he forced himself out of bed and made his way to the shower, holding his stiff shaft against his stomach. The bobbing dance that normally led him to the bathroom each morning was too painful to endure. Not that it was much of an improvement when just the slide of silk across the crown caused bursts of pain to shoot to his balls; it was still the better choice of two evils. Fuck, he was hard up. He hadn't had a case of blue balls this bad in… Hell, he didn't think he'd ever had them 69

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this bad. Adjusting the spray to warm, Brycen stepped into the shower. He let the warm blast of water soothe the muscles of his back. Lathering up, he ran his soapy hands over his smooth chest. As he brushed them across his hard nipples, it caused them to tighten further. Rolling first one then the other nipple between his thumb and finger, he gasped at the slight sting of pain radiating out through his nerve endings. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes as his other hand skimmed down across the ridges and valleys of his stomach, wishing it were John's hand exploring his flesh. Wrapping a tight fist around his shaft, he imagined the slick heat surrounding the head was John's warm, wet mouth. The steady flow of water increased the realism. His hips began to rock as he watched the tip of his cock slide past John's parted lips. Green eyes stared back at him from under water-thick lashes. Gorgeous green eyes, so filled with need that they begged Brycen to push farther into the welcoming heat of John's mouth, a plea he couldn't ignore. Reaching down he stroked the hollowed cheek, thumb caressing against the slight stubble. John pulled back, infuriatingly slow, slid back until Brycen's cock eased out past his lips. John reached up, grasping the base of

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Brycen's prick as he licked up the length of his shaft. Brycen hissed. His body convulsed with desire as he watched John's tongue dart out and circle the plump head. "No teasing… John. Suck me." With a mischievous glint in his green eyes, John poised his lips at the tip, his warm breath like a kiss against the crown. Anticipation caused Brycen's body to shake. He was on the verge of losing all sanity. When he felt as if he couldn't endure another second, John moved forward in one swift movement, sucking Brycen's cock deep into his mouth. Brycen could feel John's throat swallow around the flared head. "Just like that," he pleaded. John's lips stretched around the base of his cock, tongue stroking the underside as his head began to bob. Brycen curled his hands around John's head and held him still. His hips jerked, thrusting into that sweet heat. He fucked John's mouth, hard and fast. His balls drew up tight against his body; every thrust brought him closer. "Close," Brycen panted, fighting against the growing need. He was helpless against the engulfing pleasure. "Oh God, John, Now!" Jet after jet of liquid heat pumped out of his body as he gave into ecstasy. Blood rushed into his head at a

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dizzying speed, causing his balance to falter. He placed his open palm against the cool tile to steady himself as black and white dots danced behind his closed lids. He could image this was how a thoroughbred felt after a race, heart pounding, nostrils flaring as he struggled to pull more air into his lungs. His muscles quivered from exertion, his body spent and sated. He basked in the afterglow, the image of John's sea green eyes made everything more intense. Yelping as the stream of water suddenly turned cold, he fumbled with the taps, turning them off and reached for a towel. "So much for basking," he laughed. Here's to hoping the real thing allows for afterglow. He hoped there would be a chance to find out. Not just about the afterglow, but also getting to know more about him as the person as well. He was drawn to John, his handsome face and body was only part of the desire. There was tenderness beneath the sexy exterior. He loved the way John looked at him when they talked, like he was truly interested in what someone as boring as he was had to say. His sweet, genuine smile could light up a room and cause warmth to spread through Brycen's system. He loved how easily they had been able to laugh together. Brycen had the sudden urge to head downtown and

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he dressed quickly. He'd grab a quick breakfast and head over to Memorial Park, maybe pick up a good book on the way and spend the rest of the day lying in the sun. Bask in the sun, enjoy the sights and sounds of children playing, birds singing… He laughed at himself for being such a sap. As he was heading for the door, he noticed the white take out box on the floor. He placed it in the refrigerator and headed out. One never knows when warm, gooey lava cake might come in handy. **** Stepping out of his favorite bookstore with his purchases, Brycen felt his cell phone vibrating against his thigh. Flipping it open, he felt a twinge of disappointment upon hearing Natty's chipper voice. He was hoping for John's deep, rolling voice. "Well how was it?" "How was what?" Brycen asked as he made his way toward the park. "Dinner!" Nat said in an exasperated tone. He just couldn't resist annoying the hell out of Natty.

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"Oh, that," he said as if he had only just remembered he'd had dinner with someone as handsome, interesting and funny as John. As if. "Well, the filet was cooked to perfection, lightly brazed with garlic. The lobster was tossed with Cajun cream sauce, tomatoes, red peppers and served over basil angel hair pasta." At least that was how the menu described it. He remembered the meal had been good, but all his attention had been on John. Nothing could compare to the man—not the food, the atmosphere, nothing. "Bry," Natty admonished. "Oh yeah, and you would have just fallen in love with the bread. Salty Otsego cheese melted over spinach on hard-crusted Italian bread. Mmm, it was mouth watering." "Don't make me beat you," Nat growled into the phone. "How was the date?" "The food was amazing, restaurant was amazing, and the company was amazing." He chuckled. "What does he like for breakfast?" "Huh?" he asked, baffled at the turn the conversation had taken. "C'mon Bry, focus." He could hear what sounded like snapping fingers close to the phone. "Breakfast, you know, the first meal of the day.

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"How the hell should I know what he eats for breakfast?" he asked defensively. "You mean you let that man starve this morning?" His steps faltered, and then it hit him. He busted out laughing. "Always fishing for details, aren't you, Nat?" "Girl's gotta try," she pouted into the phone. "Actually, John got a call last night shortly after we got back to my place." After he curled my toes with the magic of his mouth against mine and worked my body into a sexual frenzy. Which, I might add, left me with the worst case of blue balls in recorded history! "His shop got broken into. He had to go down and do a run through of the building with the cops. You know, take an inventory of what was missing." "Oh that sucks. Was anything missing?" "I don't know. He said he'd stop by after it was all settled." Obviously, a very long, very thorough investigation was underway. Eight hours seemed like a long time to him, but what did he know about a police investigation? Even so, it gave him a sinking feeling in his gut. "Hey, I just made it to the park. I'll stop by on my way back home and give you a play by play." "Yay!" Natty squealed. "See you then."

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After ringing off, Brycen found an empty bench, one that looked out over a small duck pond. He suddenly didn't feel much like hearing laughing children or singing birds, and he didn't want to think about John not coming back last night. He worked to convince himself John was tied up with the break-in instead of the alternative. He changed his mind. A feat that was hard to do when the voice inside his head, which sounded suspiciously like Elijah, kept reminding him of his shortcomings. Being in the same park where Elijah stood him up more than once wasn't helping him forget either. He'd wandered around Memorial park, waiting for Elijah who was now over an hour late. He stopped at each table to enjoy the different mediums, oil paintings, sculptures and every other kind of art he could imagine. Drawn to a table he recognized as work from some of the local artisans from Hamtramck, he found an artist he'd met the year before at the renaissance festival. He had a variety of pencil drawings and an impressive collection of comic books. One in particular caught his attention, a futuristic version of the Wizard of Oz. Bill had a creative mind and his drawings were rich and stunning. Brycen purchased the set thinking Elijah would get a kick out of the sexy lion and buff scarecrow.

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Just as he had made his purchase and thanked Bill, his phone rang. "Hello." "Hey Bry. Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up," Elijah yelled over the loud music in the background. "I thought you didn't have practice today. We were supposed to…" "Uh yeah… um… unexpected jam session ya know," Elijah interrupted. "This might go on for a while. Don't wait up." He could hear the lie in Elijah's voice, but he pushed it from his head. "What about tomorrow? We have breakfast plans with Natty and Brad." "Oh shit! Sorry I forgot. Just let them know we'll have to do it another time. Put it all on me. Tell them I changed my mind. Listen, gotta go. The guys are calling me back in. Love ya babe, see you tomorrow." Brycen stared at the silent phone. It was the second time this week that Elijah had stood him up. The fifth time this month Elijah had gotten tied up or changed his mind. Brycen felt the familiar dread settle in his gut. It seemed he was an afterthought through most of his relationship with Elijah, someone to hang out with when

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there wasn't a better offer. Had John gotten a better offer? He hadn't been interesting enough and should have worked harder to keep Elijah happy. He should have worked at being a better cook, a better friend, a better lover. Going back over his relationship with Elijah, for oh, the five thousandth time, he was convinced he couldn't have worked harder. He'd given it his all, pushed himself to his limits and it hadn't been enough. It had been Brycen, the man, who hadn't worked, who hadn't been exciting enough. **** Standing astride his hog, John looked up at Brycen's apartment building. The building itself was nothing impressive and was nothing more than the typical large red brick rectangle. However, someone had worked hard at creating an impressive landscape. The sidewalks were framed with colorful pansies and clematis, and small landscaping lights were randomly placed along the walkways. The trees… Oh, shut up and stop stalling. You don't give a shit about the building or the landscape, you pansy ass. Mentally he flipped off the voice in his head and continued

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to work up the balls to walk the short distance and knock on the door. This would have been a whole lot easier if he'd been able to call Brycen to let him know he was on his way. Technology was not his friend. Just click a button and your cell phone would store the number, no problem. Unless big clumsy fingers pushed the wrong goddamn buttons—then shit was deleted, not stored. It had taken him longer than he would have thought with the fine men in blue. He had been thankful nothing was missing. Apparently the little punk or punks who broke in were interrupted and hadn't had a chance to get their slime ball fingers on anything. He was even more thankful that no one had been in the shop when the break-in had occurred, and no one had been hurt. He would like to kick the ass of the person or persons who had interrupted his evening with Brycen. It had been hard concentrating on anything that was happening around him. The only thing he had wanted to do was run back to Brycen's apartment and pick up where they had left off. The funny thing was, as much as he wanted that, now that the passion had cooled, he was left feeling unsure of himself. One can't very well walk up to a guy ten hours later, throw him down on the couch and say, "Where were we?"

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When given enough time to think, disquietude reared its nervous head. The self-doubt seemed to come rushing back like a thick black fog that kept him rooted to his current spot. Had the alcohol they shared at dinner loosened Brycen's inhibitions? Perhaps he felt somehow obligated to John for the dinner? Fuck, he'd always hated dating. He wasn't very good at sensing how someone was feeling, what were the right things to say and do without offending anyone when he had no clue what they were or what would offend. It was so much easier to go with the moment as it flowed from one event to the next and, damn, had it been flowing the night before. He couldn't ever remember feeling so turned on, wanting something so bad, nor could he remember a kiss ever making him feel as if his entire mind, body, and soul were involved. There was a gentleness about Brycen that brought out a protectiveness in John that he hadn't experienced before. He wanted to be the source of Brycen's sweet, shy smile. Wanted to be the one who made the man laugh as well as ease the uncertainty he would sometimes get a glimpse of in Brycen's blue eyes. He had to admit that these new feelings were thrilling, exciting, and damn if he didn't want to explore and understand them. Forcing himself to step off the bike, he tucked his

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helmet up under his arm and started the walk to Brycen's apartment before he could chicken out and run like the coward he normally was. The first two rings of the bell and the accompanying knocks went unanswered. He debated whether a louder more forceful knock might result in a better outcome. Perhaps a well-placed kick might work. His contemplation was interrupted when a blue-haired head popped out from the next apartment down. "He's obviously not home. How long are you going to stand there and beat on that door?" John cast one last look at the door, as if Brycen might have opened it while his nosy neighbor distracted him. He waved a hand at Mrs. Blue Hair in embarrassment and headed back down the hall. He heard a huffed, "Goddamn kids," before the slam of a door rattled the landscape prints hanging on the walls. Impressive. Okay John, put on your detective cap and rev up your stalking skills. How hard can it be to find one man in a city of about a million? Coffee shops, bookstores and every other little shop in downtown Royal Oak hadn't given up what he was seeking. However, he did find an amazingly naughty little shop he had full intentions of exploring more fully later. He

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had to admit that he had it bad for Brycen if the rhinestone dildos in said naughty shop didn't get more than a passing glance. John locked up his bike outside Memorial Park and strolled through the gates. It was the last place he could think to look for Brycen, and if he didn't find him here, he'd head back to Brycen's apartment and wait in the parking lot until the man came home. To his relief, his stalking skills paid off. Lying on a bench near a small pond, one hand tucked under his head, the other holding a book, was the man he'd been searching for. John stood silently and watched an unsuspecting Brycen. The slight breeze blew his unruly curls across his pale face and John had the urge to brush them tenderly from his brow. He found the way Brycen would unconsciously nibble on his bottom lip as he read endearing and was curious as to what had captured his attention so thoroughly. As he watched Brycen, an unexpected feeling of possessiveness struck him. The unfamiliar sensation threatened to make him turn on his heels and run in the other direction, fear of how completely Brycen could affect him kicking in his flight or fight response. He battled against his own body, forcing a step toward Brycen even as his mind warned him to walk away.

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"Good book?" Brycen jerked to an upright position, nearly falling from the bench when he reached out to grab the book before it could drop to the ground. "Jeez, give a man a heart attack startling him like that." Brycen got control of his book and himself and looked at John over the back of the bench. "What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?" John chuckled at the rattled look on Brycen's face. "I wasn't sneaking up on you. Must be a damn good book if you didn't hear me come up. What ya reading?" A strange look passed Brycen's face, which he quickly covered up with a small smile. It was a smile that was a little sheepish as he tucked the book in question into the brown wrapper at his feet. "Nothing that exciting. Just didn't hear you come up is all." John was curious, but he didn't dare ask. Obviously the book wasn't something that Brycen felt comfortable sharing with him. He walked to the end of the bench and asked, "Mind if I join you?" Brycen slid along the bench to the furthest end away. "Be my guest. How did things go with the police?" Oh yeah, things were definitely different this afternoon. Gone were the playful smiles and teasing eyes.

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As he took a seat at the opposite end of the bench, he couldn't help but wonder if he was welcome here. The look on Brycen's face was closed and unreadable. "Nothing was missing and no one was hurt, so I guess it went well enough." Brycen studied him for a moment then gave a curt nod of his head before turning to look out over the pond. "That's good. Glad to hear no one was hurt." "Insurance will pay for the damage and I got some tips on security, so I guess the whole night wasn't a waste." "Good." John took Brycen's demeanor and the way he turned away from him as a dismissal. When he started out his stalking maneuvers this morning, he hadn't imagined Brycen wouldn't want to see him. He could have sworn there was something happening between the two of them, something more than just a one-night stand of hot sex. Then again, he had thought there was something real between him and Jacob too, but that relationship had been completely one-sided. He had been either too stupid or too blind to see the truth that had been standing right in front of him. Brycen's coldness made him feel like a complete ass. He turned his attention to the small pond that held

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Brycen's attention. The sun glistening off the water as ducks splashed and chased each other. He couldn't think of a single thing to say to Brycen that could set them on a trail back to the lighthearted conversation they'd begun in Natty Joe's and continued over dinner. They both continued to stare toward the pond, the uncomfortable silence like a wall between them. When the silence grew and became unbearable, he sighed and hesitantly got to his feet. He met Brycen's eyes. "Well, just wanted to say hi. I'll let you get back to your book." Brycen stared at him for a moment. John was holding his breath, hoped like hell he would encourage John to stay, or give some indication he wanted to see him again. Nevertheless, Brycen blinked slowly, the still unreadable look on his face and said, "Thanks for saying hi. I'll see ya around." Brycen turned back to the pond, giving credence to the thought that had been festering inside John—you're just not good enough. **** Brycen watched John, a disheartened look on his

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face. Most of the day, since Brycen had left his apartment this morning, had been spent questioning himself. Selfdoubt was a bitch, especially when an irritating little fucker like Elijah kept babbling in his head. You don't work hard enough, you're not enough for a committed relationship. When he had first awoken, he still had hope. He had thought that perhaps John had been tied up with the police and just hadn't had the opportunity to call him. He'd even left his place with a smile on his face after the incredible shower. As the day went on, doubt began soaking into his system. Even when John finally showed up, he couldn't let go of the doubt. John could have called. When he had called about meeting for dinner, John had assured him he had his cell number. With caller ID, it was a click of a button to store the incoming number. Since his phone never rang the night before or the morning after, there could only be one conclusion: John hadn't called because he hadn't wanted to. Once the heat had cooled, Brycen obviously had not been worth the consideration. Self-doubt is a powerful thing but, as John started to walk away, the desire to see the man again was even more powerful. Brycen found himself calling out, "Hey John?" "Yeah?" Was he imagining the hopeful look in

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John's eyes? Imaginary or real, he took courage from it. "Um… was wondering. Maybe you could call me sometime. You know if you're ever in need for a coffee partner or something." John's cheeks took on a pink tint. "I'll need your number again." He held out his hands, palms out and wiggled his thumbs. "All thumbs. Accidently deleted it. Easy, one touch programming, at least, that's what the instructions said." Crap. It had been something as simple as a lost number. He'd let Elijah and his bullshit pull him down into depression. God, he was an idiot sometimes. Brycen stood and collected his bag of self-help books, walked toward where John stood and asked, "How about I give it to you over lunch?"

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Chapter Six He was feeling cocky and confident. Pearl Jam was on the radio, the table set in what he hoped wasn't too obviously romantic, and a bottle of wine chilling. Even though he had made his granny's pot roast recipe enough times to know it was nearly as good as hers, this time he had followed it to the letter. The apartment was clean and the aromas coming from the kitchen made it smell really good. He had put clean sheets on his bed and was dressed in loose, low-on-the-hips, easy-access jeans and a soft pullover. His hair had cooperated for once. He even remembered Natty's "Cosmo" suggestion, making sure he had sexy underwear on. He was ready to take on the world, or at least John. That was until the sound of the buzzer scared the shit and the cockiness right out of him. On his doorstep was John. He was dressed in tight Levis that accentuated his thick, muscular thighs. A buttondown black shirt, left open at the top, showed just a hint of the dark hair on his broad chest. A knock-me-on-my-ass smile curled the edges of his lips and a heated look sparked in his green eyes. In his hand, he held out a bottle of tequila. Brycen took the offered bottle and arched a brow at 88

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John. Maybe he wasn't the only one hoping for a fulfilling evening and would resort to getting someone drunk in order to get what he wanted. "Come on in. Can I get you something to drink?" "Damn, smells good," John said as he stepped into the apartment. "Beer if ya got it?" "Sure thing." Brycen set the bottle of tequila on the island, moving past the stove to turn up the heat on the veggies. He opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. "Dinner is almost ready. Go ahead and make yourself at home." The statement died in his throat as he turned back around and found himself within inches of John. He could feel the heat radiating off the bigger man, a heat that burst into flames when John reached out to take one of the beers, letting his fingers brush against Brycen's. "Thanks," John murmured in that deep sexy roll of his. His green eyes held Brycen's with an answering heat, causing the flames to spread like wildfire. Brycen licked his dry lips and John's eyes went wide and then narrowed. Brycen did it again. John leaned in until their lips almost touched. Brycen could feel the whisper of warm breath across his wet lips, smell the mint of John's toothpaste. Just when he

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thought John was going to kiss him, he moved his head and whispered close to his ear. "Something's boiling over." "Fuck!" Brycen groaned and stepped away from John. He moved quickly to the stove and turned down the overflowing pot of vegetables. With him around, I had better order take-out next time, if there is a next time. Oh, I so want a next time. And another. And another. Shaking his head at himself, Brycen got dinner on the table without any more mishaps. With the heated looks John kept throwing at him and the way the man didn't know the definition of personal space, by the time they sat down to eat, he was one big pile of quivering horny. He couldn't take his eyes off John's lips, enjoying the way his mouth moved when he chewed. He'd had to bite down on his tongue to stop the groan that threatened to escape when John licked his fingertips. The man was so fucking sexy he even made eating a sensual affair. He found himself squirming in his chair trying to find a comfortable position while he continued to watch John eat. John's gaze locked with his, pink tongue coming out to wet those lips again. "You're staring. Do I have something on my chin?" Brycen's cheeks heated at being caught staring. "No, you're fine." He chuckled and ducked his head. He tried to

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keep his eyes on his own plate. He nearly jumped out of his skin when John's foot caressed his calf under the table. "I like it when you stare at me." His voice was like soft velvet, and the force of it raced down his spine and pooled in his groin. Brycen looked back up to catch John bringing a bite of carrot to his mouth, he sucked on it with full lips, swirled his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth and chewing it with a devilish glint in his eyes. Brycen shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "Could I give you some more… I mean can I give you something else… to eat that is?" He picked up his wine glass and took several sips, hoping to give his mouth something to do instead of babbling. "Thank you, it was delicious, but I couldn't eat another bite. Of food, that is," John said with a sexy chuckle in his voice. Brycen swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in his throat. John's voice dropped to an even deeper, sexier tone as he leaned over the table until their heads were just inches apart. "What about dessert? A man can always find room for dessert." He reached out, tilted Brycen's chin with his fingertips, his lips brushed against

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Brycen's as he spoke. "What about you, Brycen? Do you always leave room for dessert?" He kissed the corner of Brycen's mouth, sending a wave of lust rolling through John. Brycen groaned under the feather-light touches of John's lips and the seductive tone of his voice. He opened up to the kiss. All thoughts of food were forgotten as John's tongue demanded entrance into his mouth. As the wet heat filled his mouth, his hands sought out John's head, fingers grabbing onto the dark soft lengths, pulling John closer, demanding the kiss go deeper. John's deep moans of approval vibrated against Brycen's tongue. His swelling cock ached. Suddenly he could not get close enough or take the kiss deep enough with the table between them. He needed to feel John's body against his, needed to feel his arms around him pulling him into an embrace. He needed it as a drowning man needed air. He groaned in frustration when the table between them restricted him from what he wanted. John must have felt his frustration. Somehow, they managed to stand and move around the table without ever breaking the kiss. Brycen bucked against the hard ridge of solid muscle the instant their bodies came in contact. John's hips thrust in an answering call.

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"I want you," John moaned as he bit at his mouth. Tiny nips of John's teeth against his lips sent out delicious sparks of pain. Brycen tried to get his brain to think past the lust. He did not do one-night stands and had never been into casual fucks. He could count on one hand how many lovers he'd had. Though he didn't know the man well, something about being in John's arms, having John's mouth on his, felt right. Right, as if John was the man he'd been waiting for all his life. God, was that possible? It had never felt this right. Even after months with Elijah, it hadn't felt like this. John didn't give him a chance to think about it. As John's tongue explored his mouth, Brycen's mind shut down the ability to form rational thought, his body awash in a mixture of sensation. Brycen wrapped his arms around John under his shirt, wanting to feel skin against his fingertips, muscles flexing beneath his hands as he explored his heated flesh. John broke the kiss long enough to let Brycen pull the shirt over his head. His mouth reclaimed Brycen's once the shirt was free and falling to the floor. They both laughed into the kiss as fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers. Neither willing to break the connection made removing clothing difficult, but somehow

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they managed. Brycen had never laughed through a kiss before, and he liked the way it vibrated against his lips, loved the sounds John made. John managed to get both their jeans down past their hips. His hard shaft leapt into John's hand and his hips rocked, seeking out more of the perfect friction of calloused palms against velvet-wrapped steel. John wrapped his fist around their pricks and began to pull slowly from base to tip and back down again. Throwing his head back, Brycen moaned as John broke the kiss long enough to move his lips to the side of Brycen's throat. John's deep, husky voice rasped in his ear. "So fucking hot, love the feel of your cock against mine." John's hand sped up as the pre-cum steadily dripped from their cocks, easing the way. "Want to feel you come all over me. Feel your cock throb against mine. C'mon Brycen, show me how good it is." Brycen could only groan his agreement. The slide of his prick against John's as he jerked them harder and faster made his balls draw up tight against Brycen's body. He could only hold on to John's shoulder in a death grip as his knees buckled. John's hand on his cock and naughty words against his neck sent him to the edge of orgasm. He didn't want it to end. He fought against the orgasm running

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down his spine. Just when he thought he might draw it out a few minutes longer, John bit down on his neck and then began sucking greedily. The intensity of his orgasm ripped through every cell in his body and exploded in a shower of white liquid heat. He heard John growl his name as an accompanying heat joined his. He could only rock through the convulsions of the aftershock. It took all his might to stay standing, to keep from falling to his knees and weeping with pure joy. Brycen looked down at the mess they had created. Jeans disheveled, shirts thrown about the kitchen. He looked back up and met stunned sea green eyes. He leaned in and laughed against John's lips. "Now that's what I call dessert." John grabbed on to Brycen's hand, pulling him towards the living room. "That was just a sample." Brycen directed John away from the couch, pushing him toward the bedroom. The couch didn't offer enough room for what he wanted and the slick was in the bedside table. They started down the hall, the remainder of their clothes disappearing along the way. It was clumsy and awkward, but neither of them was willing to break the kisses or stop the exploration of bare skin. Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom,

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falling on to the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. Then it was joyous skin on skin, John's weight perfect on top of him. John covered his mouth, tongue pushing in and exploring, seeking out every hidden area as if John were claiming him. The kiss deepened until the only flavor in Brycen's mouth was John. Grabbing onto the back of John's neck, he gave back as good as he got. He frantically thrust his hips. It was all consuming, yet still not enough. He needed more. More skin, more weight, more John. The mixture of John's mouth, the heat of his skin and the perfect slide of hard cocks was almost too much to bear. The pleasure too big to contain, overflowing from his mouth in a series of moans and whimpers. Brycen could only hold on and float on a raging sea of pleasure. "Need you now," John panted as he broke the kiss. "God, please, tell me I can have you." His mouth moved down Brycen's chin, across his jaw. "Night stand," Brycen said in such a hoarse voice he barely recognized it as his own. John scrambled for the drawer, pulling out a tube of slick and a condom. He dropped the condom on Brycen's chest before snapping open the top on the lube. He kneeled

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between Brycen's thighs, slick fingers sliding between his ass cheeks as John's other hand kneaded his inner thigh, encouraging him to spread farther. John worked a finger past the tight muscles of his opening. Brycen struggled to relax, the neglected muscles tightening against the invasion, the slight burn reminding him that it had been far too long since he'd felt these pleasures. "So fucking tight," John groaned. He slid a second finger in and began scissoring them, stretching Brycen farther. His body began to relax, and the burn faded quickly, replaced by the perfect friction of slick heat in his sensitive passage. Brycen struggled to tear open the foil package, his body rocking as he pushed himself farther onto those invading fingers. He couldn't speak, the overwhelming pleasure stealing his voice. John took the condom from him, rolled it on his thick shaft one-handed as his fingers continued to pleasure and tease Brycen. Thank God one of them still had enough brain cells left to do more than just squirm and moan. He'd have to thank the man later. John moved up, guiding his slick cock to Brycen's ass. He didn't give him time to miss the thick digits as he removed his fingers and began slowly filling him. The delicious friction as John's flared head pushed past the tight

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ring of muscles was enough to push Brycen to the edge of pleasure and pain. "Oh God, Brycen, so fucking tight." Brycen could only nod his agreement, hips thrusting up, an unspoken plea to get John to fill him. John nuzzled the side of his neck, his body trembling, pushing in slowly, moving inch by painstaking inch until Brycen was in danger of losing his mind. He wrapped his legs tightly around John's waist, encouraging him. "God, you feel so good. More, God, John. More." He arched his back as he tightened his legs around John's waist, his body begging John to go deeper. John sighed against his neck as he pushed in to the hilt. The sound and the warm heat against his skin sent a fire racing to his cock, the fullness in his ass increasing the ache. "Please… John." John began to roll his hips, barely pulling out of Brycen before pushing back in. They melded together from head to toe, their bodies never losing contact as John continued to move over him like liquid fire. "This isn't going to last long. You feel too good." John reached up and grabbed Brycen's wrists, stretching his arms up over his head. "Gotta just do it." John shuddered, started moving faster. "So good, what you do to me."

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"Do it. Oh fuck, just like that." Brycen thrust his hips harder. He was so close, just a little more and he'd fall over into pure bliss. His cock rubbed against that tight belly above him with every thrust, felt every ridge against the tip of his leaking prick. "That's it, baby. Come for me. Let me feel it." John shifted position on the next thrust and pegged Brycen's sweet spot, sending him spiraling out of control. He moaned John's name as jet after jet of hot seed covered their stomachs and chests. Just as the last drop seeped from his body, John stiffened above him. John shuddered, his thick cock throbbing inside him. Brycen swore he could feel each burst of John's seed filling the condom as he rode out each aftershock that ripped through John. He floated on the high, completely satisfied, barely registering in his short-circuited brain when John pulled from him or the warm cloth against his groin. The last thing he remembered was warm arms wrapped around him and thinking to himself, this is the way I want to end every day for the rest of my life.

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Chapter Seven The harsh morning light brought John out of his light sleep. Obviously, his body had woken up earlier than his mind had, since his morning wood was nestled against the soft skin of Brycen's ass. He loved the way Brycen's lean, compact body fit perfectly against his own, as if the man had been molded to be an extension of his own. Perfect. They had fallen asleep wrapped around each other, the taste of Brycen's laughter on his tongue. He could see himself getting addicted to those laughing kisses. Once he got addicted to them, what then? He wasn't sure if he could be enough for someone like Brycen. Hell, he wasn't sure if he could be enough for anyone. He had believed he was Jacob's equal, thought he had given himself completely, been enough. In the end, he'd fallen short. John had given everything he had to offer to his committed relationship with Jacob and it was never enough. If he couldn't be enough for someone like Jacob, how the hell could he be enough for Brycen? Everything seemed so simple with Brycen. They had a lot in common, but not so much that they couldn't teach each other new things. It would be so easy to fall in love with someone like Brycen. A knot formed in his gut at 100

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the disquieting thought. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get addicted to this man. He absently ran his fingers across Brycen's stomach, petted the soft skin over taut muscles, moving from the crest of his hip and down across the thin line of dark hair that ran from his belly button down to his groin. He could imagine himself waking up with Brycen every morning, letting his morning erection slide up and down the sweet crease, slicking the way. He would wake Brycen as he entered his body, starting each morning joined before the real world separated them for the day. John nuzzled the side of the sleeping man's neck, felt the soft black curls catch on the stubble of his chin. He inhaled the dark spicy scent deep into his lungs. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was already hopelessly addicted to the man. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest as Brycen began to wiggle in his sleep. That perfect ass rubbed against his hard shaft. His fingers, exploring Brycen's belly, dipped down even farther, the growl growing as he made contact with his lover's thick and heavy shaft. He teased the soft silk over steel. He moaned when his touch caused Brycen to jerk and force John's cock farther into the warmth of his crease. Oh, yeah, addicted. No twelve-step

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program was going to ever cure him of wanting the firm, sweet ass currently causing his pulse to race and his head to spin with lust. "Oh. Now this is a very good morning," Brycen whispered. John felt him rocking his hips against his in an agonizingly slow dance. "The best good morning," he replied. He licked at the thick tendon on the side of Brycen's neck, the pulse quickening against the flat of his tongue. He began sucking up a mark on the pale skin, teeth scraping gently against the tender flesh. Brycen moaned softly, hips beginning to rock a little faster. "You feel so good." John teased the tip of Brycen's full prick with his fingertip. "You feel good too," he purred as he wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft. He stroked him in time to the rhythm of their bodies. Brycen whimpered, his hand snaked back to grab onto John's hair, tugging, keeping his mouth pressed to his neck. "Yeah, like that, just like that," Brycen said. He couldn't agree more. Grinding his erection harder into Brycen's ass, his hand became a blur as he worked his lover's cock. The now steady pleas and moans pouring from

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Brycen, told him his lover was just as close as he was. There was no stopping the orgasm that was rolling through them. The electricity between them arced. "Close… Come with me, baby. Want to feel you. Oh fuck." Heat splashed over John's fist as Brycen's hips snapped, his lean body going tight. The porn-like noises Brycen made, combined with the smell of musk and sweat, sent John flying over the edge. The first burst ripped through him, molten lava shooting out his cock, covering the small of Brycen's back with liquid heat. Brycen met every one of his thrusts with a hard thrust of his own. John's eyes rolled back in his head as he was swept away on a tidal wave of pleasure. Taut muscles jerked with each aftershock that ripped through his body. John could only lay there and drown in sensation. He wanted to ask if Brycen was okay, apologize for being so greedy, but he couldn't form any coherent words other than "Wow." He settled on trying to get his heartbeat and breath under control. He would worry about verbal skills later. "John? You okay?" Brycen mumbled. "Uh-huh." His muscles still twitched, his hands still grasped

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Brycen in a tight grip. He was having a difficult time getting all his systems back online. While his pulse thundered and his breathing raged, the best of his verbal skills were a series of incoherent grunts. He forced his eyes open and was shot straight in the heart with sated indigo blue eyes. Oh, yeah. Completely addicted, he thought to himself. No fucking cure for him. Brycen rolled off the bed. John watched as the muscles of his thighs and ass flexed with each step toward the bathroom. The proof of their passion glistened on his lower back. Christ, the man was gorgeous. There had to be a catch, something he was missing. No way could someone as smoking hot, as funny, sweet, easy going and just downright perfect still be single. The chances of it were astronomical. Brycen returned from the bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hand and a towel around his waist. "I'm going to make coffee. Do you want me to… I mean…" Brycen's ears turned pink as he threw the warm cloth at John. "I'll get the coffee on." John watched that sweet, towel-covered butt sway out of the room. Oh yeah, there had to be a catch.

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**** Pouring water from the carafe into the coffeemaker, Brycen had to chuckle at how badly his hands were shaking. It took him two tries to push the button to get the coffee started. Holy hell, John affected him like no other. The last time he'd felt so close to being this out of control was years ago when his mom nearly caught him rubbing off on his high school crush. Still, that time had been more about the adrenaline. It was the rush of nearly being caught, not Forrest Bailey, that had left him trembling. Get a grip, man! You're going to send him running in fear if you start acting like a virgin on his wedding night. He usually had better control of himself. He was the one who always got up and cleaned his partner, made sure they were comfortable and satisfied. It was what he did. He took care of people. The way John had looked sprawled out on his bed, golden skin and chestnut hair damp with sweat, the way his broad chest rose and fell as the air pushed up and out of his parted lips had landed a sucker punch right to his gut. He hadn't been able to do much more than stutter. After a couple of minutes, John joined him in the kitchen with only a towel wrapped around his lean hips. "Coffee ready?" he asked as he came closer, placing an

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almost chaste kiss on Brycen's cheek. "Um yeah." He reached up pulled down two cups from the cupboard. "Black, right?" "You remembered. That's sweet." His cheeks heated even further as he handed John his cup. He hid his embarrassment in his coffee cup. "Only way to have it in the morning. I'd prefer the IV method, except I hate needles." John's warm laughter eased some of the tension from Brycen's body. "Yeah, I'm usually not worth shit till I've had a pot of coffee." They sat in comfortable silence as they drank their coffee. It felt good, domestic. Brycen could kick himself for the thoughts he was letting run rampant. We're just scratching an itch, he reminded himself. Stop trying to move him into your life, into your bed. You're not ready for a relationship with someone like John. The truth behind that statement ruined the calm, easy silence. Brycen figured it was time to get ready for work. He muffled a sigh behind his coffee cup, taking one last gulp of the liquid caffeine. He stood and took the cup to the sink, rinsed it out, setting it on the counter to dry before turning back to John. "I gotta get ready for work." And I need to get the

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hell away from you before I drive myself crazy. "So, yeah, go ahead and finish the coffee." He started to walk out of the kitchen, but John's hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked down into those green eyes he was falling for and a shiver ran through his body. "Can I help you get ready?" John said. Brycen's breath hitched, his pulse beginning to race at the look in John's eyes. The sudden vision of him wet and slick in the shower was a star attraction in his mind's eye. "Oh yeah," he heard himself responding. He'd worry about it later, remind himself why he couldn't have John. For now, he was going to get ready for work. He would worry about everything else later. Brycen reached down, took John's hand, and led him to the shower. Later was good.

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Chapter Eight "Did you have a good day?" John asked as he nuzzled Brycen's neck. "I missed you." Brycen groaned as John pushed him up harder against the counter. Little nips and kisses assaulted his neck, making his already rock hard shaft try to swell even further. If this kept up, they were not going to make the seven o'clock show. It had been a week since John first spent the night with him. Everything was so perfect, so easy. Dining together, talking and playing around on the couch during hockey games. Fucking Canadian style was fast becoming his favorite position. Realistically though, neither of them watched a single shift. He didn't know about Canadian men, but if they could watch hockey while John was deep inside one of them, they were better men than he was. It was perfect, too perfect. Something had to go wrong; the other shoe had to fall. It was just too simple. Brycen wasn't sure he was working at all to keep this new relationship going. Was he just coasting on a sexual high? Forgetting about John's other needs? What would happen if the passion started to wane? What could he offer John then? Why do I have so 108

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many questions without answers? "You're thinking too hard, baby," John murmured against his neck. John's fingers working on the button to his jeans as he kissed his way down Brycen's neck to his collarbone. "Tell me you missed me today?" His body jerked as John opened his jeans. His lover slid his hand down past the waistband of Brycen's boxers and wrapped his rough fingers tightly around his shaft. He moaned as John increased the pressure on his cock. "Yeah, I missed you today," Brycen said. "I had to jerk off in the bathroom after your naughty, lunchtime call. You got me so fuckin' worked up with that nasty mouth of yours." "I thought you liked my mouth." John hummed as his hand began working Brycen's shaft harder, his other hand pulling at buttons, exposing Brycen's chest to the cool air. Brycen hissed as John's mouth found his nipple, tongue and teeth worrying the hard nub. He wrapped his hand around John's head pulling him closer to his chest as John rolled Brycen's nipple between his teeth and lips. "Yeah," he moaned. "Sometimes, I like it a hell of a lot more than others." "Mmm hmm, thought so." John moved across his breastbone, giving the other nipple the same treatment.

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Brycen went up on tiptoes, his body trembling with the duel sensations of pleasure and pain. John moved farther down his body. The hand working Brycen's prick never slowed, the other hand pushed his jeans down past his hips. John's talented tongue left a wet trail across his skin, and Brycen forgot all about too perfect and shoes dropping. His only thought was how bad he wanted that perfect warm mouth on him. "Gonna suck me?" Brycen asked. "Gonna remind me how much I like that mouth of yours?" His hips snapped of their own accord as John placed a soft kiss to the tip of his prick. John looked up at him with heated green eyes. He gasped as John painted his lips with the pearl of pre-cum that had seeped from his slit. "Look at that," John murmured and licked his lips. "Your cock doesn't need a reminder." John took Brycen's erection into his mouth, tongue flicking along the underside as he slowly sucked Brycen's shaft farther into his mouth. A shudder went through him as John took him deep. When his cock hit the back of John's throat, John hummed his approval and Brycen felt the vibration shoot all the way up his spine, bursting from his mouth as a deep guttural moan. "Oh God… John, suck me… take it all." His hips jerked forward, the urge to thrust just too strong to

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deny. John grabbed on to Brycen's hips, encouraging him to thrust harder and take what he wanted, what he needed. He thrust deep into that inviting mouth, hips rocking in a perfect rhythm that just felt so goddamn right. John grabbed his ass and pulled him in harder. The tip of John's tongue teased at his slit each time Brycen pulled out before slamming back in. On the next brutal thrust, John swallowed and his throat constricted around the head of Brycen's cock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Brycen grunted in between thrusts. Once, twice more and he was coming, pumping his seed down John's throat hard and fast. John lapped at him, his tongue almost gentle against his still pulsing prick. Humming as he licked at Brycen, he eased him down as his body twitched. John pulled back, letting Brycen's softening cock slide from his mouth. Licking his lips, he placed one last kiss on the tip. Brycen glanced down with heavy-lidded eyes. John rolled gracefully to his feet and leaned forward, nibbling on Brycen's lips before diving in for a deep, tongue-probing kiss. He tasted himself on John's tongue. The mix of his own essence and John's unique flavor made his flagging cock twitch, as if it was seriously thinking how quickly it could be ready for another go-round. John kissed him

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senseless, leaving him panting for more. "Oh yeah, thank you for reminding me why I like this mouth so much," Brycen teased. "Wanna see if you like mine just as much?" "Oh fuck yeah," John crowed. He pulled Brycen toward the bedroom. "Going for a double feature, baby." Guess they weren't going to make the seven o'clock show. Maybe he'd pull out his camera and they could make their own movies. He was sure it would be better than anything they could watch at the multiplex. **** They moved to the bed, still wet and dripping from the shower. John wrapped himself around Brycen. He needed the contact of skin on skin. He could tell Brycen had something on his mind; something had been troubling him when John had first arrived at his apartment earlier. As curious as he was to know what was going on in Brycen's head, it also caused alarm to settle in his gut. It was something about the way his brow had furrowed, leaving deep grooves between his eyes. His eyes had taken on a sad, faraway look that had scared the hell out of him.

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He had been able to stop the conversation with a well-timed blowjob, but how long would he be able to keep the conversation from resurfacing? How much longer could he keep this wonderful man in his life? He didn't want to think about not having Brycen. He didn't want to think about going back to his own cold, empty apartment, and he certainly did not want to think about having to sleep alone again. They lay in bed, hands roaming over muscles, fingertips mapping out each peak and valley. Brycen turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his mouth. John should be asking Brycen what was on his mind earlier, what had been bothering him, but he couldn't. He was afraid of the answer. He was pretty sure they needed to discuss it, but oh God, it felt right holding him. Brycen's skin warm, against his own, and he didn't want it to ever end. They kissed and touched, John not giving Brycen a chance to form words. Feeding moans and gasps into Brycen's mouth and pulling Brycen's needy sounds into his own. Brycen's whimpers were like a pulse against his tongue. He needed to show him how perfect they fit together, how good they were together. Brycen's hands became just as desperate, cupping John's ass and pulling them closer together. Brycen's kiss

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deepened, their shafts growing hard along one another, the heat growing, sending John's need spiraling. God, he didn't ever want to give this up. Brycen rolled them until he was on top of John and straddled his hips, and the kiss went deeper. Their hips rocked together, so gentle, so perfect, the tenderness making him shudder. "Want you," John moaned into Brycen's mouth. Hips bucking up harder, letting Brycen feel just how much he wanted him. Brycen reached over on to the nightstand, grabbing the battered tube of lube and a condom. "Don't want to wait," he said as he threw the condom at John and opened the lube, slicking up his fingers. John could barely get his trembling fingers to cooperate as he struggled to get the condom out and rolled down his shaft. The look on Brycen's face as he rocked back against his own hand had John aching with the force of his need. He sucked in a breath as Brycen grasped his cock, suddenly engulfed in Brycen's tight heat. They moaned in unison as they both began to rock, sparks igniting into fire. John grabbed onto Brycen's hips, thrusting up into every downward thrust of Brycen's body. Their sensual dance evolved quickly, from slow and tender,

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moving toward a frantic level. His orgasm raced down his spine. Wanting Brycen to join him, he grabbed onto Brycen's swollen and leaking cock, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his hips. "C'mon, baby. Come for me," he gritted out. He held back his own orgasm with a herculean effort, refused to allow his body to give into its need until Brycen reached his. His muscles quaked and protested at being restrained. It was an impossible battle. Somehow he held back out of pure stubbornness, but it couldn't last. Brycen threw his head back, John's name on his lips as he came. Heat spilled over John's hand, landing on his stomach. The beauty of Brycen lost in his ecstasy broke him. He thrust once more into that contracting heat and he was coming with Brycen's name on his own lips. Collapsing on top of him, Brycen nuzzled into John's neck, the weight pressing down on him felt perfect. The warm breath against his neck was sublime. When Brycen huffed out and fell asleep, their bodies still joined, John smiled. "Everything about you is perfect," he whispered into Brycen's dark curls, wrapping his arms tighter around him.

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Chapter Nine "So, why the long face?" Natty asked as she sat Brycen's White Mocha Espresso on the table and took the chair next to him. "Well, my guess would be Daddy's little sperm only had speed going for him. Mommy's little egg was the more dominant and voila," he said innocently. Dipping his finger into the whipped cream, he popped it into his mouth before continuing. "Long heart-shaped face for Brycen." Natty blinked at him a couple of times, a confused look on her face, then burst out laughing. "You shit! You knew what I meant and you had better be damn glad you take after your mom. You could look like your freakishly large-headed brother." "Yeah, then I could have ended up with three exwives and four kids all by the time I turned thirty." Brycen rolled his eyes as he sipped his coffee. "I'll be sure to send Mom a thank you note." I'll send it right about the same time as Hell freezes over. He hadn't spoken to his mom or dad since he came out to them when he was eighteen. Who would have thought that his brother, who was a drunken deadbeat, used women, and neglected his children would grow to be the 116

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preferred son. To this day, it still amazed him. The logic of it was something he still had a hard time grasping. Clinton could cheat on his wife, walk out on his kids, and spend what little money he had on drugs and alcohol, yet he was still accepted into church on Sunday mornings. As long as he confessed his sins of the week and asked for forgiveness. Clinton could apologize for being a worthless piece of shit and he had an instant seat at the Thanksgiving table, even though everyone knew the next week would be no different. If Brycen found a broad muscular chest attractive, he was relegated to burn in Hell for all eternity. Not only was there no family Thanksgiving for Brycen,

there

wasn't

even

a

family

who

would

acknowledge him. It was one of life's little mysteries he had given up trying to figure out. "Spill it. You're sitting here looking like someone just ran over your dog. What's up?" Natty's eagle eyes and overdeveloped senses didn't miss a thing. "No one ran over my dog. Can't a man just sit down, enjoy a cup of coffee and do some thinking?" "Sure they can," Nat responded. "As long as said man shares what he's thinking about with his best friend." How much could he share with Nat? He wasn't even sure what it was that had him in a funk. When he voiced his

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worries in his head, they sounded so petty, silly even; yet, the sickening feeling in the pit of his gut didn't feel petty at all. It was real, a physical ache, one he couldn't ignore. If he told Nat that he didn't think he was working hard enough to make things work between him and John, she would call him an idiot. He would have to listen to the speech about why he was such a great catch, remind him for the hundredth time it was Elijah who hadn't deserved Brycen, not the other way around. She had to say those things. That's what best friends did. "I was thinking about the cooking class I have later today. Just running through the list of ingredients I'm going to need. Make sure I don't forget anything." "Why are you taking a cooking class? You're a great chef." That's not what Elijah had said. His exact words were something along the lines of "Haven't you ever heard of a fucking steak on a grill with a baked potato on the side? Christ, Brycen, can't you cook anything that doesn't take a fucking foreign dictionary to pronounce?" At least that is how he remembered the quote. Of course, Elijah's mouth had been stuffed full of Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort at the time, so perhaps he was misquoting. "It's an Americana cooking class. I usually make

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fancy shit, so I thought I'd try and learn some American favorite type recipes." "You mean the boring kind of cooking?" Natty asked. She studied him as if to try to find the hidden meaning behind the class. Brycen just stared back, kept his features neutral. Natty must have figured she wasn't going to get anything more out of him on the subject. She changed tactics. "Where is your hot honey this morning?" "He's at his shop, but he should be here any time now. And, just so you know, he's not my anything. We're just hanging out, getting to know each other." He jabbed a finger at her. "And, don't be saying shit like that when he's around, okay?" That's just what he needed, Natty putting thoughts in John's head that Brycen was thinking this was serious. The man would no doubt run like hell. "Mmm hmm, but you want him to be, don't bullshit me. I see the way you look at him. You cannot hide the look you get in your eyes when you talk about him and, if that wasn't enough to convince me you had it bad for the guy, then the fact you haven't been out with Jen and me in two weeks is a dead giveaway." The bells over the door chimed and Brycen looked up in time to watch John walk through the door. John's

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bright smile lit up his face when he saw him. God, could it be possible John might be falling for me too? No, no way. Best to get Natty the hell out of here and back to work before John reached the table. "Look Nat, you know I love you, right?" He turned his attention fully on her. "But will you shut up about what you think I feel for John and go back and bug Brad?" Natty turned her head in John's direction. She turned back to Brycen, a sly smile on her face. "Oh, but I think it would be fun to sit right here and watch the two of you drool all over each other. I'll even supply the napkins." Brycen lowered his voice in a harsh whisper, "Go, or so help me I will tell Brad about the time we vacationed in St. Petersburg. Jägermeister, tattoos, dancing on bars, and the real reason we missed the flight back?" Natty's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare." Brycen just stared her down in challenge until John walked up behind her. "Hey Bry, Natty." John nodded his head at her and took the seat on the other side of him. Brycen could feel the warmth radiating off John's body, and he jerked in response as John's big hand landed on his thigh. A tingle raced up from the point of contact, settling right in the center of his groin.

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"Hi John," Natty said as she started to rise. "Can I get you anything?" "Nah I'm good. Just came for Brycen." John turned those green eyes on him "Thought I'd come talk him into spending the afternoon with me." Those eyes burrowed into his soul. His stomach did a one-eighty and he suddenly didn't care what Natty might say. The only thing he could focus on was the way John could light up his body and short circuit his brain with just a glance. Yeah, he wanted to spend the afternoon with the man. The afternoon, the evening, the morning, and any other time John wanted him. Brycen thought he heard Natty say something about "Don't mind me." He was too busy looking into John's eyes and trying to figure out if it was worth the jail time if he jumped the man right here in public. The hand on this thigh tightened. "Do you have plans today?" John asked, never taking his eyes from his. "None I can't change with the right kind of motivation." John leaned in, his breath warm against Brycen's neck. "Good. I want to take you somewhere." His lips brush against the sensitive flesh below Brycen's ear. "Somewhere I can show you just how motivated I am."

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He hoped it was somewhere private. Somewhere no clothes were required. "Lead the way," Brycen said breathlessly. John stood and took his hand, he accepted it and followed easily. There wasn't anyone he would rather spend his day with. He could always pick up a cookbook on grilling instead of sitting in class. **** They rode for about a half hour. He was wrapped around John as the bike vibrated beneath his thighs. His groin pressed up tight against John's ass, his arms holding on to that sweet stomach and the vibration all combined to set his libido into singing a happy tune. He felt weird not knowing where they were going, not having to be in charge. They had pulled off the main highway ten minutes ago, and the only scenery was open fields and trees. The scenery was pretty, but it couldn't hold his attention. There was nothing in the landscape that could compare with having his lover in his arms. John's presence, whether they were talking, sharing a cup of coffee, or deep in the throes of passion, consumed Brycen's mind and body. And Christ, did they have passion. The sex between

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them gave 'hot' a completely new meaning. He wanted to be this man's everything, in and out of bed. His thoughts from earlier kept playing through his head as he pressed harder against John. He may not be working hard enough yet, but he'd try. To have John in his life, he had to try. No, for a chance at having this wonderful man in his life, he would try. The cooking class would be just the beginning. He was willing to try new and exciting things in his life. Hell, if John wanted him to skydive, he could look past his fear of flying. It wasn't like they would be in the plane long anyway, right? A smile stretched across his face. He could add skydiving and bronco riding to his weekend getaways if that's what John needed. What was a little fear, a little pain when the payoff was having someone like John? He could be spontaneous, dammit. Speaking of spontaneous… He pulled John's shirt free from the waistband of his jeans, letting his hands roam over his broad chest. He pinched a swollen nipple with one hand, the other moving down to press against John's cock, stroking hard through the denim. Oh yeah I think I like spontaneous. He pressed his hand harder against the growing bulge, his smile turning to sly. He had to give John credit. The bike stayed steady, never swerving once as Brycen explored his body.

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The bike pulled off the road onto a small trail. As the bike came to a stop in a grove of small trees, they practically fell off the bike and John was on him, taking his mouth in a brutal kiss by the time they reached the ground. "Jesus, thought I was going to come in my jeans," John groaned as his kiss moved down along Brycen's neck. John unbuttoned Brycen's jeans, his strong hands stroked his cock. "Fuck, Brycen, drive me out of my mind. I want you so bad." John didn't even give him a chance to respond before he moved down his body and Brycen felt his cock engulfed in wet heat. Brycen reached down and wrapped his hands around the back of John's head, holding him still as he thrust up into his mouth. He wasn't going to last long. "Oh God… gonna come," Brycen panted. John pulled off his prick with a pop, his rough hands wrapping around Brycen's wet cock and he pulled hard and fast. "Come on, baby. Show me what I do to you." It only took two more pulls from base to tip and Brycen was shouting out his pleasure to the surrounding trees. "Oh fuck, John." His orgasm ripped out of him by the sweet manipulations of John's callous-rough hand. John kept working him, pulling out every last drop

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until it became too much. He reached down and stopped John's hand on his overly sensitive flesh. "I was trying to make you come." Brycen laughed as his body continued to twitch. "Not the other way around." "You'll get your chance." John wiped his hand on the grass next to them and stood up. He reached out for Brycen, and helped pull him to his feet. John took his mouth in a soft, tender kiss that curled Brycen's toes. "Mmm hmm, and now that the edge is off, you'll be able to take your time." John's smile turned devilish as he moved back to his bike and grabbed a blanket from the saddlebag. "Oh yeah, a very long time," Brycen sighed as he followed John farther into the grove of trees. **** Lying on his back, John watched the white clouds pass by across a perfect blue sky. He pulled a still panting Brycen closer to his sweat-slick body. John didn't think he had to worry about the passion waning anytime soon. If the intensity of their lovemaking got any stronger, he was sure the top of his head would blow off with the next orgasm. He wasn't worried about the sex; he still had hundreds of

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positions and places he wanted to try. What he worried about was the everyday things. He didn't make shit for money, all his savings tied up in his new shop. He was picking up many new clients and had numerous custom orders already lined up, but that did not mean his business was a sure thing. Shit happened and people didn't show up for their appointments, or they changed their minds or decided the amount of money they were spending to have their bikes customized would be better spent elsewhere. He was living on a prayer and, at any moment, it could go to shit. What then? All he had was his shop. His apartment was four walls, a bed, TV, and not much else. He couldn't cook, and cleaning was something he did when the stink couldn't be ignored any longer. Hell, he didn't have anything past grade twelve as far as education went. Doesn't sound like a very good catch to me. Jacob with his fancy college degree had reminded him of his shortcomings often enough. John pulled Brycen closer. He had the man now and he'd do whatever he could to keep him, even if that meant scrambling his brain with mind-blowing sex. He would not give Brycen the chance to look deeper at the sorry excuse called John's life. "Tell me something I don't know about you,"

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Brycen said as he snuggled further into John's side. John stiffened at the request but forced himself to relax. He tried to think of something light to say as his hand stroked Brycen's side, drawing little patterns with his fingertips. "My birthday is tomorrow." "No shit!" Brycen exclaimed as he shot up to a sitting position. "Yup." "Jesus, I cannot believe I didn't even know when your birthday was. How old are you going to be?" John shrugged, pulled Brycen back down to his side and wrapped around him. "It's just another day, baby." He kissed the top of Brycen's head, loving the way the silky curls tickled against his skin. "If you must know, I'll be twenty-eight. What about you, when's your birthday?" "I'll be twenty-five on May twenty second." Brycen lifted his head, those blue eyes looking nervous. "I know you'll probably want to spend your birthday with your family and friends, but maybe we could hook up in the morning? Let me buy you a cup of coffee, breakfast or something." As he got lost in those blue eyes, he couldn't think of a single person he would rather spend his birthday with than Brycen. His dad was busy living his own life and John

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didn't begrudge him the freedom of retirement. He had no siblings, and since his dad went through women the same way some went through underwear, there hadn't ever been a step-mom. His grandparents had all passed, and he hadn't made many friends since moving to Royal Oak. His only friend, Luke, wouldn't set aside his playboy life for a day to celebrate John's birthday. More than likely, Luke would try to use it as an excuse to force John to hitting the clubs with him. He didn't know why Luke needed him to go to clubs; it wasn't as if they even spoke once they were there. Only reason he could think of was so Luke had someone to talk to while waiting in line. He didn't really have a deep connection with anyone in his life, but he yearned for one with Brycen. John leaned up, placed a soft kiss to those lush lips. "How about you make me breakfast in bed in the morning?" He let his lips brush across Brycen's chin, across his jaw, licking at the salty musk. "You can even be the first to give me a present at midnight." John emphasized his meaning by grabbing onto Brycen's firm ass and squeezing hard. "Can't think of a better gift than this." John started licking and sucking at the sensitive skin below Brycen's ear and was rewarded with a moan. "Makes my shopping easy," Brycen replied, his breathing starting

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to speed up. "It's all yours." God how he wished that were true. Sucking harder at Brycen's neck, marking him, John knew exactly what his birthday wish would be this year.

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Chapter Ten The first time Brycen went to sleep without John wrapped around him, it felt strange. He'd been getting so used to having John's warmth surrounding him. The king size bed now felt cold and lonely. The second night the bed became so vast and barren he'd grabbed up the throw he kept at the foot of the bed and his pillow, electing to sleep on the much more intimate couch. He'd woken with a stiff neck and an ache in his back, yet it was still better than waking up alone in his bed. By sleeping on the couch, he could fool himself into thinking that he had merely fallen asleep as he spent his evening surfing infomercials instead of lying awake in a king size bed feeling completely alone and abandoned. Abandoned, is that what he was feeling? John had been so busy with the shop over the past week, many nights he was now working nearly around the clock. He snuck in quick naps in the office at the back of the shop between clients and projects. Though John had invited him to the shop for lunch, he had declined. Elijah had never wanted him to be anywhere near him while he was practicing with his band. He had referred to Brycen as a useless distraction, one he couldn't afford to 130

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have if he ever planned to make the 'big times.' As big an asshole as Elijah had been, he still had taught Brycen a few things, especially about how to handle a relationship and not come across as too needy. You are needy. Who are you trying to fool? Just because he was needy did not mean he had to act that way. What he needed, he wasn't likely to find, at least not before the age of forty. He was content with that, at least as content as one could be considering what he wanted above all else was John in his life, in his bed, and in his heart. "Fuck I'm in love with him?" he muttered to the empty walls of his apartment. When the hell did that happen? He had been so busy trying to keep his head straight, he had refused to listen to anything his heart had to say. He did not want to be in love. Love hurt. Love was betrayal. It changed the playing field to such a degree that he wasn't sure he was prepared to play the game anymore. Self-doubt sucked. Looking back over a broken relationship after it ended and questioning every word spoken, every gesture made, was maddening. He could not do it again. He refused to do it again. Too late, the annoying voice reminded him. No matter what, it's going to hurt when John leaves you.

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The vibration of his cell against the coffee table caused Brycen to set aside his depressing thoughts. He stared at the phone, thinking about not answering it. Ignoring it and covering his head, then he could go back to feeling sorry for himself. Fuck it. He grabbed the phone. "Hello." "Miss you," John's voice came through the line in a low, sexy whisper. The sound shot straight into the center of his heart. "Hey John, how's business?" "Busy," John said with a sigh in his voice. "Do you miss me?" Yes, but I'm not going to admit it. He laid the first brick for the wall about to be erected around his heart. "Natty, Brad, and Jen want to go out to the club tonight. Think you might get an hour off later, maybe you could meet us there?" "What club?" "Jester's, more than likely. Nat loves to watch the cute boys dancing together, almost as much as she likes to tease Brad about how red he gets when he sees them kissing." Brycen laughed when the image of Brad's wideeyed face popped into his head. "Are you going to be dancing?" John inquired.

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What the hell kind of question was that? If he didn't know any better, he would think John sounded jealous. Brycen decided to test it. "That is usually what you do at a dance club. I love to dance. " "I've been thinking about you. Was going to try and catch a couple of winks before the next client, but I couldn't get you out of my head. The image of you dancing, that tight ass swaying, isn't helping." "Yeah, and what was I doing in your head before I started dancing?" Brycen whispered. "I was thinking about those gorgeous blue eyes of yours, especially the way they look up at me when you're on your knees, my cock between those sweet lips of yours." A tingle started at the base of his spine. "That's not conducive to entertaining clients." At least he hoped it wasn't. "No clients here yet, good thing too, because I don't know if I could concentrate with how hard my cock is. It's always hard for you. You drive me to the brink of insanity." John's voice went a notch deeper. "The thought of you sprawled out across my bed, legs spread wide, your pretty cock hard and curving up toward your belly." Brycen's breath hitched. "Are you hard, baby?" John purred.

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How could he not be with the images John was painting in his head, the sound of John's raspy whisper like a touch? "Yeah, thanks to you." "Good. Wrap your hand around your cock. I want you to imagine it's my hand stroking that sweet prick." Brycen heard the distinct sound of a slick hand stroking flesh as he shoved his boxers down past his hips and began doing as John asked. "Squeeze it tight." His fingers tightened further. "Imagine my ass surrounding your cock. Feel it slide in and out of me. It's been so long, I'll be so tight. Can't stop thinking about you pounding into me. I want to straddle you, watch your face as I fuck myself on your prick." Brycen could feel his balls draw up as the image of John lost in ecstasy above him flashed in his mind. His hand sped up to a blur, his hips jerked. "I want to feel you so far inside me, pounding me so hard that I feel you for days." John's voice was now barely a whisper, accentuated by constant moans. "Are you close? Are you imagining getting ready to fill me with your hot seed?" "Yes," he panted between breaths.

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"Hold on to that feeling, baby, don't come." John's breath came hard and fast. "Fuck Bry." Brycen listened as John went completely silent for a heartbeat. His hand stilled and he squeezed tight around his cock to stop the orgasm that had begun to rush up out of his balls. It was pure agony. He closed his eyes, fought against his body's desire as he listened to John's panting breath begin to slow back down to its normal rhythm. "Brycen?" "Uh huh," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Do you miss me?" "Yes. I miss you so fucking much." "Mmm good, save that for me. I'll be waiting at your house when you get home." The line went dead. "No!" His voice sounded pitiful even to his own ears. God, he was so close, so incredibly close, there was no way he was going to make it until later. He thought about just giving in to the pleasure, and then the image of John above him flashed briefly. His hand didn't seem like such a great substitute anymore without John's sexy voice in his ear, and he slowly eased his hand away from his cock. He tried thinking of cold dips in Lake Superior, having all four of his wisdom teeth extracted,

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anything unpleasant to help pull his body back from the edge. One drink with Natty and Brad and I'm out of there. He groaned as he pulled the covers back over his head. John had known exactly what he was doing, and his ulterior motive came to mind. Brycen wouldn't be doing any dancing tonight. Bastard. **** "One… Two… Three." Brycen licked the salt off his hand before he lifted his shot glass and gulped the contents in one swallow. The burn of tequila warmed his throat and chest as it went down. The sour burst made him shudder as he bit into the lemon and he slammed his glass down on the table. "Whew! That's it, Natty. I'm done." "What do you mean?" Natty asked as she wiped a hand across her mouth. "We're only just getting started." "Really? Because I thought the first one was getting started, not the third." He wasn't getting started; he was well on his way to sloppy-ass drunk. Two beers and three shots of tequila was way past his normal night out. He told himself his overindulgence had nothing to do with John. It

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had nothing to do with trying to avoid running home like a good boy and waiting for his lover. He had done that with Elijah. Besides, since he did not expect John until much later, why not have some fun. Even though he didn't normally drink much, he had to admit he was feeling pretty damn good. "C'mon," Natty said as she stood holding out a hand to Brycen. "Let's dance and you'll be ready for the next shot in no time." He looked toward Brad who was contentedly sipping his beer, watching the dance floor. "What about Brad?" Natty grabbed his hand. "Sorry sweetie. Stink is straight. You're stuck with me." Brad's eyes went a little wide, his cheeks turning pink. Natty pulled Brycen onto the dance floor, giggling at her own joke. Straight Stink. Brycen laughed even harder at his even funnier joke. Who the hell calls their husband 'Stink'? He never had been brave enough to ask how Brad got the nickname, positive he didn't want to know the meaning behind it. As usual the dance floor was packed, too many bodies all mingling together in a sea of arms, legs, and thrusting hips. By the time the next song started, he'd

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already lost track of Natty. Brycen gave into the rhythm of the music, his hips leading the way as he moved along with the wave. He let go, losing himself to the sensations and sounds. Arms wrapped around his waist from behind and Brycen was pulled up tight against a firm chest. The man behind him was slightly taller, the perfect height. He was able to feel the thick bulge rest against the top of his ass and couldn't help but rotate his hips, just a little. With the sexual aroma filling the air around him and the effects of the alcohol surging through his system, he lost some of his inhibitions, grinding against the growing bulge. God, he loved to dance. "I forgot how sexy you were." He froze as he recognized Elijah's voice whispering in his ear and tried to pull away. Elijah held their bodies harder together. One of his hands moved down to cup Brycen's cock. "Oh yeah, your body misses me doesn't it, Bry?" He twisted in Elijah's arms, struggling to pull free. Elijah took the chance to cover his mouth with his own as he grabbed Brycen's ass, forcing their hips together. Elijah's tongue came out, licking at Brycen's lips, demanding entrance.

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Getting his hands up around Elijah's head, he grabbed two handfuls of hair and yanked, pulling Elijah's head away. "What the fuck are you doing?" "Isn't it obvious?" Elijah slurred as he tried to pull free while maintaining his hold on Brycen's ass. He let go of Elijah's head and spun away at the same time. Elijah was just drunk enough that he stumbled, nearly slamming into another partygoer. He caught himself at the last moment, grabbed on to Brycen's shirt, and held tight. "Elijah, let me the fuck go. I promise you, you do not want to piss me off." "And what are you going to do about it?" He yanked at Brycen's shirt "Stop being a bitch. You know you want me, I'm the hottest fuck you've ever had." His lips curled into a disgusting sneer. "Best fuck you'll ever get." What was it I saw in this asshole? Staring at Elijah, he felt nothing for him but revulsion. He was hot physically, had been even hotter in bed, but his demeanor made him ugly. He ripped free of Elijah's grip and shoved him into the crowd. Elijah hadn't been expecting the move and collided with a group of dancers. One of the dancers grabbed Elijah by the shirt, and Brycen used the distraction to get the hell off the dance floor. Natty was back at the table by the time he made it

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through the crowd and, bless her heart, the shots were lined up waiting for him. "Three," he yelled as he grabbed a shot, disregarding the salt and threw back the harsh liquid. Arrogant bastard. "Again!" He grabbed another drink and threw it back as well. Natty stared at him in disbelief, but she must have seen something on his face that kept her mouth shut for a change. She shrugged and tossed back her own drink.

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Chapter Eleven He laid his head back and stared at the flashing lights above. He was going to have to ask the owner how they got the fish to swim in the lights. How the hell do they feed them? Oh wait, I think I see a boat. That must be how they feed them. "Cool." "What's cool?" Natty asked as she came and sat on his lap, forcing him to sit up and look at her. "Thez a boat s' feed fishy." "What fish?" "Ones in light." He pointed up toward the florescent bulbs overhead. How could she have missed the fish all swimmy and colorful? He started to giggle. Pretty rainbow fishy. Natty looked up at the ceiling to where he was pointing, shook her head, and stood, holding her hand out to him. "C'mon, big guy. Time to go." "Can't wanna, I wanna watch feed fishy." He dropped his head and tried to focus on Natty's swirling face. "Think they have sharks? We could feed Elijah to 'em." The giggles consumed him again. Natty yanked at him, getting him to his feet. Brycen started laughing harder. "Wheeee, the floor's moving." 141

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"Uh huh, it's moving this way, sweetie." Natty threw an arm around his waist and got him moving on the wobbly floor. Brycen clung to Natty; the spinning room was a little freaky. "They probably wouldn't eat him anyho. Yuck." He retched at the thought of how yucky Elijah would taste. "Hey. Where's it takin us?" "To see them feed the fishy." "YAY!" It was the last thing he remembered. **** Brycen moaned as he tried to open his eyes, but the pain forced him to slam them shut. The brief second he'd had them open had sent hot pokers jamming into his brain, and he had no plans on doing that again. His mouth felt like someone had filled it with rank cotton, and his throat was so dry he could barely swallow. "What the hell did I do to myself?" His body, like his eyes, protested with every slight movement, and even the rise and fall of his chest hurt. Images of the night before started coming back to him in scattered flashes. He remembered drinking the tequila

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shots. He remembered dancing with Natty, until Elijah showed up, being his typical asshole self. He remembered returning to the table completely pissed off. After returning to the table and grabbing the shots lined up… nothing, no recollection of how he left the bar, how he got home, or how he got in his bed. He was in his bed, wasn't he? Brycen forced his arms to move along his chest. Uh okay, I'm naked. This might not be a good thing. He moved his hands downward and was relieved he still had his boxers on. Then he reached out across the bed in both directions and was even more relieved to find that he was the only one occupying it. He strained to listen for the possibility of someone else being in the apartment, but all was quiet except the normal subdued sounds from the apartments surrounding his. Okay, this might not be as bad as it seems. The familiar sounds informed he was indeed in his apartment. At least I didn't bring anyone home with me. He forced himself to get up, sitting on the edge of the bed and cradling his head in his hands until the room stopped spinning. Should he lie back down or give in to his screaming bladder? In the end, the bladder won out. The trek to the bathroom was slow going. His body felt like Jello and he refused to open his eyes past tiny slits. He didn't even bother with the lights, unwilling to cause

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himself any more pain than necessary. He relieved himself in the dark and flipped on the taps in the shower. It wasn't until the warm water was cascading down his body that he started to feel a little more human. Add a strong cup of coffee to his system and he might actually survive to tell about it. Well, what I can remember of it. He stayed under the spray until it began to cool. The strain to remember the night before made the painful throb in his head that much more unbearable and he gave up. He stepped out of the shower and dried off. John's words from the night before came back to him. "Mmm good. Save that for me. I'll be waiting at your house when you get home." He wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried out into the living room. Looking around, he didn't see any sign of John, or that he had ever been there. "Shit." He flipped on the coffeemaker. How could he have forgotten about John? Racing to his room, he searched his clothes until he found his cell phone. The front displayed two new messages. He hoped that John had been tied up at the shop and hadn't made it over. He would hate to think John had shown up and he couldn't remember it happening. Worse, John had shown up and he'd done something stupid, causing him to leave. Fuck, he hated not remembering. He clicked the listen button.

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"Where the fuck…" Brycen deleted the message from Elijah without listening to the rest. "Hey sweetie, I know you're going to panic the moment you wake up, but no fear. Brad and I got you home and helped you into bed. You were a riot and said shit I will hold over your head as blackmail forever, but hey, that's what friends do. I'll be expecting my humble pie to be delivered later. Love you." Brycen clicked the phone off, relieved he hadn't done anything too stupid the night before. Still, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach when there hadn't been any call from John. He clutched his cell, debating whether he should call him. On one hand, he was worried; on the other hand, he didn't want to sound accusatory or needy. He threw the phone on the bed and went to get dressed. He would call John later, after he got something in his stomach to absorb some of the lingering alcohol and drank some coffee, lots and lots of very strong coffee. **** The

thundering

sound

of

plaster

exploding

resonated through the room. It was satisfying, nearly as satisfying as the way the pain exploded from his fist as it

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made contact with the wall and raced up his arm. Repeatedly, John let his fists fly. The plaster was a pale imitation for what he really wanted to destroy, yet it helped to release some of the rage that was trying to drown him. Self-loathing thoughts flooded his mind. You're just not enough—I need more than you can give me—I need someone who is my equal. Each thought was driven to the back of his mind with the pain of torn flesh, muscles straining, and bones protesting. He would endure any amount of pain if he could just wipe the images of Brycen in the arms of another man out of his head. He'd gone to the club after his last customer had called to reschedule, hoping to surprise Brycen. After not seeing him for a couple of days, he missed him like crazy. He had, in fact, planned to take Brycen home, make love to him all night, and then confess he was falling in love with him. Instead, he'd been the one to get one hell of a surprise. There on the dance floor, Brycen swayed to the rhythm of the music wrapped in the arms of a much younger, much hotter man than John. When Brycen had turned around and the man at his back took Brycen's mouth in a deep kiss, John couldn't get out of the club fast enough. "What the fuck are you doing?" Luke screamed as he rushed into the room. He grabbed John around the waist

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and pulled him away for the destroyed wall. John struggled against him, the pain in his chest exploding and overtaking the agony in his hand, leaving him sick to his stomach. "Let me go," he roared. Luke got John's arms pinned against his chest and held on. He didn't say anything, just held on, comforting with his strength until John wore himself out. As the anger was slowly replaced with anguish, he slumped against his friend and let Luke take his weight. "Shh, I got ya. What the hell did the wall do to piss you off so badly?" Leave it to Luke to be a smartass, even when he was trying to be nice. "I've always hated the color of that wall. Today I just hated it a little more than usual." Luke moved with John until he dumped him into his desk chair and left the room. He could hear the ice machine come on and he looked down at his throbbing fists, covered in plaster, his blood flowed freely from his knuckles, soaking into the dust, leaving a thick red paste on his hand. Still his hand looked better than the destroyed wall. Large holes accentuated by blood splatter—it looked as if he were viewing the scene on one of the forensic shows he normally watched on Saturday night. Luke came back into the room, cleaned up John's

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hand with a wet cloth, and wrapped it in bandages before applying a bag of ice. Neither of them said a word, and John tried not to feel anything. After tending to Brycen's hand, Luke took the chair across from him. "You wanna talk about it?" John looked at the concern in Luke's eyes and shook his head. "Not really." Luke nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah that's cool. I'm here if you decide otherwise." "Thanks," John muttered as he leaned back in his own chair and stared at the ceiling. Luke wasn't the type of person who would understand what he was feeling; he didn't imagine Luke had ever been in love. That wasn't saying anything against Luke. Hell, if anything he envied the man. Never committing your heart, never worrying about making relationships work. He made life a simple series of events. Flowing from one man to the next, having as much fun in life as he could. Why the hell do I have to torture myself? Why can't I just fuck for fun? The answer was obvious—he wanted more. Was that greed on his part? Was it unrealistic to want something more than just a series of meaningless life events? He didn't know the answer to that, but he just knew the way he currently felt. His heart was bursting, his stomach filled

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with lead, and the burning sensation at the back of his eyes made him question if it was even worth wanting those things. Vibration against his hip brought him out of his morose thoughts. Without checking the caller id, he flipped the phone open. "What?" "Oh hey, it's Brycen. Not catching you at a bad time, am I?" John shut his eyes. Yeah, as a matter of fact, you are. "Just sitting here with Luke, did you need something?" Something other than to rub it in my face about the hot fuck you had last night? As hard as he tried, he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. The phone was silent for a minute and John was contemplating just hanging up when Brycen's voice came through the phone, low, almost a whisper. "Uh… I was worried. I thought I would call and see how you were, if you were okay?" "Yup I'm good. Busy as hell, ya know?" There was another awkward silence before Brycen finally replied, "Okay, sorry to have bothered you." The phone went silent. John pressed the off button. The sound of plastic shattering as it hit the wall really wasn't that satisfying.

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"I take it that was the guy you were redesigning your office for?" "Fuck off, Luke." "Don't think the offer's not tempting, but no, thank you. I will however allow you to take me to lunch. You can tell ole Luke all your tales of woe." "Nothing to tell." He got to his feet, throwing the ice bag on the desk. "I'll drive, but you're buying." They made it to the little diner down the road, neither of them saying a word. John was too wrapped up in thoughts and Brycen's voice saying, "Sorry to have bothered you," playing repeatedly in his head. John could have sworn Brycen sounded shocked and hurt. He had heard the way his voice had hitched before the line went dead. He wanted to call Brycen back and ask him about last night. Ask if he had gone home with the man he had seen him with on the dance floor. As he followed Luke into the diner, an image of Brycen and the stranger locked in a kiss flashed behind his eyes and his hands clenched into tight fists. It couldn't have been hurt he'd heard in Brycen's voice, but it was probably guilt.

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Chapter Twelve He should not have done it. He had, in fact, told himself not to do it. Yet here he sat clutching his cell phone, heart pounding, and a huge lump forming in his throat. Brycen wanted to kick his own ass for calling John. Hadn't it been obvious enough when you woke and he wasn't in your bed? He didn't leave a message on your phone. Hello, he is already tired of you. Why the fuck do you think he didn't show up? It took Elijah months to get tired of you, John only a couple of weeks. "Yay, we have a new record holder and champ," he groaned as he returned his phone to his pocket. He didn't feel right about comparing John and Elijah; they couldn't be compared. He had never felt the same connection with Elijah he had with John. From the moment he and John had shared their first cup of coffee at Natty Joe's together, he had felt a rightness that he could have sworn was real. Still, something had gone wrong, something out of his control. Brycen would have bet his life that John had felt something too. Through the insecurities, the self-doubt, he had suspected there was something deeper. Something meaningful between him and John had been forming. He had doubted it, but it was there 151

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nonetheless. At least he thought there was, up until today. It was like believing in the Easter bunny and Santa—it is wonderful while you believe, but sucks when reality slapped you in the face. Over the next few days, he went through the motions of his life and it wasn't that hard. His life was a set routine that didn't need much thought. The difference now was that instead of bitching and moaning about it, he just did it. He had added two new events to his routine. He clutched his phone each night as he fell asleep on the couch and checked for missed calls each morning upon waking. Actually, he had a third. As the week dragged on, he obsessed over the need for answers only John could give him. Was he really that completely wacked that he had made up a fantasy in his head and, in reality, John had felt nothing for him? As calls to John went straight to voicemail, no return calls from the messages he left, he finally had to admit he had been the only one that had felt the connection. As reality set in, he became more and more depressed. If he had been so wrong about John, would he know the real thing when, if, it happened? You

are

fucking

insane,

cuckoo,

psychotic,

deranged. Take your pick; they all describe you. "Yeah, tell me something I don't already know," he

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berated himself. He had moved to a completely new plane. Not only was he unable to work hard enough, be enough for a stable relationship, he was also out of his cottonpicking mind. The fact he was sitting in his empty apartment talking to himself was an attestation to the insane theory. He flipped through the channels for the umpteenth time and, as usual, nothing caught his attention. It was just becoming habit. Something he did to keep his hands busy. He had lost interest in just about everything. Before John, he had hated his boring life. Now, he would give anything to have it back. Even that was better than the searing pain in his chest as his heart broke in two. He would gladly go back to making up lives for other people, and he wouldn't ever complain. Just, God, let the pain in his heart stop. He wiped at the tear that slid down his cheek and checked the clock on the wall. It was seven-thirty. Should he just stare at the ceiling of his bedroom for a couple of hours, wallowing in self-pity, or continue to abuse the remote? A soft knock at his front door gave him a third option. Whoopee. He pushed himself off the couch, dried his eyes, and shuffled across the room. He opened the door without checking. He knew who it was. She had threatened it

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enough. "Natty, don't you…" Big mistake. Standing on the other side of the door was John. "Hi, mind if I come in?" John asked nervously. Brycen looked down at himself and frowned. He wore stained and torn sweats, a wrinkled T-shirt, and the three-day-old stubble was not the most attractive style he had ever sported. Then again, what did it matter? "Sure, c'mon in." He stepped out of the way, ushering John in. As scruffy as Brycen was, John was the opposite. Tight jeans that accentuated his perfect ass as he moved into the living room, green cotton shirt stretching across the muscles of his back. He was clean-shaven and just too fucking gorgeous for words. If Brycen had any doubt why he had not been good enough for John, he sure the hell knew it now. The proof was standing in his living room looking like an untouchable god. John looked around his grubby apartment before moving the day old pizza box from the chair and taking a seat. "Sorry about the mess, been somewhat busy. Can I get you something to drink?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen. He sure could use it, a big, tall, powerful drink to soothe his jittery nerves. "Beer, if you have it," John responded quietly.

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He grabbed two beers, figuring he could pull out the stronger stuff later after John left and lose himself in it. He was learning Wild Turkey could cure just about anything in large enough quantities. Stepping back into the living room, he handed John a beer, careful not to allow their fingers to meet, and took a seat on the couch opposite John. John didn't meet his eyes as he took the beer. "Thanks." Brycen took a long pull of his beer and picked at the label, watching the condensation roll down the bottle, anything to keep him from looking at John. He was too embarrassed at his appearance and the chaotic mess around the apartment. He was usually much more organized, much more meticulous about his personal appearance and that of his home. Lately, he just didn't give a fuck. The silence stretched out until it became too heavy. Best find out why John was sitting in his living room and get it over with so he could get back to wallowing. "So what brings you to my neck of the woods?" he asked without looking up. "Didn't figure I would ever see you again." "I didn't plan on ever seeing you again," John answered, sounding confused. Great, then why are you here? To gloat, rub a little salt in the gaping wound? He had not taken John as one to

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be malicious, just another thing he had been wrong about. "I'm not sure what you want me to say to that." He studied the label on his beer. The condensation running down the sides suddenly reminded him of tears. He could so relate to that. Brycen caught John out of the corner of his eye as John leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, beer dangling from his fingers. He kept his head down as he spoke. "I tried to stay away, tried to hate you. I figured we hadn't known each other very long and I'd eventually get over you." He laughed. The sound was sad, without John's normal exuberance. "It hasn't gone so well. I mean, I know we were not committed to each other. I know we were still learning about each other, but… Well, I thought there was something there, ya know? Something real." So did I. If you thought that, why the hell did you dump me before we even had a chance? He didn't say it aloud. Even if he could find the courage, he didn't think he could get it all out around the lump that had formed in his throat. He took another deep pull from his beer, letting it soothe the dryness in his throat before he responded. He snuck a glance in John's direction. "Then you changed your mind, I get that." John's head snapped up, meeting Brycen's gaze

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before he could turn away, the pain and confusion apparent in those beautiful green eyes. "I didn't change my mind, but you didn't give us a chance to see where it would go." He shook his head. "I know I'm not the greatest catch, probably can't compete with that young stud of yours. But… Dammit, I still need to know if I was wrong. Was I the only one that felt something between us? Was I a complete fucking idiot?" Young stud? Not the greatest catch? What the hell was he talking about? "I don't know about an idiot, but you're confusing the hell out of me. What young stud?" John stood abruptly and set his beer on the side table next to the chair. "Look, it was a mistake for me to come here, I'll let myself out." Brycen jumped up from the couch and rushed to stop John from leaving. As soon as he touched John's arm, the electricity he'd felt the first time they touched was still there. The sensation was a jolt that went straight to his heart. "John, wait." John stopped but did not turn to meet his gaze. "I saw you," John whispered. "Saw me what?" John turned and looked at him with blazing eyes. "I saw you with that guy at the club. I was able to get away

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from the shop early and was going to surprise you at the club. Guess I'm the one that got one hell of a surprise, huh?" Brycen went over in his head the events of the last night he had been in the club. The night John had said he would show up and hadn't. There was a big chunk of the night that he didn't remember, but Natty had filled in the details and he hadn't done anything other than drink too much, talk too loud, watched fish swimming in the lights, and needed Natty and Brad's help get him home and into bed. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm the one who woke up the next morning alone in my bed, after someone had said they would be there when I got home from the club." John grabbed onto Brycen's arms, holding him at arm's length. "You think I would have come here after watching you with that other guy? I'm an idiot, not a fucking masochist." Brycen grabbed on to John with both hands, gripping hard as he screamed, "What fucking guy?" Then he remembered the fight he'd had with Elijah on the dance floor. "Oh." "Yeah. Oh," John said as he tried to push Brycen away, but he held fast.

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"That's why you didn't show up? Why you refused to talk to me? Refused to return my calls?" He began to chuckle. He couldn't help it. It had all been a huge misunderstanding. A stupid, wrong place, wrong moment misunderstanding that had nothing to do with John not wanting to be with him because he wasn't enough. It hadn't been that he had changed his mind about wanting to know him better. He began laughing harder. "I'm glad you think this is funny," John responded with a sneer. "I'm not so amused." Brycen flung himself against John, wrapped his arms around him, and held on as he got his laughter under control. He was relieved when John did not force him to turn loose. Instead he pulled him closer. "You big, wonderful dummy," Brycen said as he plastered kisses against John's neck, breathing in his unique scent. He savored it, pulling it into his lungs, relearning the wondrous scent he thought he would never smell again, relishing the feel of John's arms wrapped around him. He leaned back and took John's face in his hands, meeting him squarely in the eye. He let John see every emotion that was surging through him, how sincere he was. "You saw me with Elijah, my ex. You obviously did not watch the whole thing or you would have seen me shove

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his pathetic ass into the crowd after he tried to kiss me. You would have seen me walking back to my table and spending the rest of the night doing shots with Natty and Brad. You would have also seen Brad and Natty taking me home, undressing me and putting me into bed." Brycen winked. "Alone. Well perhaps you wouldn't have seen them bring me home and undress me. I would hope you would have done that." John searched his face. He obviously found what he was looking for when he took Brycen's mouth in a brutal kiss. Tongue seeking entrance, a sigh on his lips when Brycen let him in. John pushed Brycen up against the wall, his mouth traveling down his jaw, across his neck. "God, I missed you so fucking much." Suddenly there were too many clothes between them. He needed skin. Brycen grabbed the hem of John's shirt, tugging it up and off, forcing John to lean back. He moved in, licking and tasting John's chest. His hands mapped each inch of skin he could reach, relearning every ridge of muscle, every valley. He soaked in the warmth of John, letting the heat replace the hurt, pain, and uncertainty he had been dealing with all week. "I didn't think I would ever feel this again," he

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murmured against the skin of John's chest, emotion welling up in him. "Missed you so much." John forced him to straighten, pulled him up until their lips met. Clothes cooperated and fell to the floor. All the things Brycen wanted to say, he said with his body. He rubbed his shaft against the hard steel of John's arousal, their bodies saying hello again, missed you, need you, want you. He arched his back as John ground against him, their breaths coming in short pants as the frenzy of their movements intensified. "Oh fuck Bry… God, I missed you." Brycen moaned his agreement against John's neck, humping against the hard belly and even harder prick. The frenzy intensified as John began sucking up a mark on his neck. His body giving back as good as it was getting. They cried out in unison, the other's name on their lips as they erupted against each other. Lips and hands clung desperately as each wave of aftershock caused their bodies to convulse and jerk. They held on as they trembled against each other, hearts thundering, breath coming in harsh pants. Both were lost in the powerful moment, wrapped in each other's arms. John was the first to break the quiet. "I'm so sorry I doubted you."

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Brycen placed a soft kiss to John's quivering lips. "I'm sorry I doubted you too. Take me to bed and make love to me." John gave him a smile that melted him further and pulled him toward the bedroom. **** John pulled Brycen tighter to him, the sweat of their bodies drying in the light breeze from the ceiling fan. Their breathing slowing back to normal as their bodies eased in the silence. He had been such a fool, had nearly walked away from this man without giving Brycen the chance to tell his side of the story. He would have given up the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him, the perfect friend, the perfect lover. He made himself a promise as he listened to Brycen's even breath and the heat of his body against his that he would never take him for granted. He would never doubt him; he certainly would never walk away from him again without a fight. "What are you thinking about?" Brycen asked against his chest, snuggling in deeper. "Was just making a promise to myself." Brycen lifted his head, those indigo blue eyes

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searching his. "Can I know your promise or is it a secret?" "It's a promise for you." John kissed the tip of his nose. "I'll never doubt you, take you for granted, or be foolish enough to walk away from you again without a fight. Move in with me?" He had not meant to say that last part, but there it was and he was not taking it back. He didn't want to take it back. They were good together. Better than good, they belonged together. Brycen kissed him, a smile on his lips. "Ask me when we're not sticky and smelly. When we're not basking in the memory of mind-blowing sex." "I don't stink. I smell like you. I kinda like it." John drew in a deep breath through his nose. "No, I really like it. Smells like us and sex and let's do it again." He rolled, pinning Brycen to the bed beneath him. "I'll never get it up again." Brycen laughed, squirming to get John off him. The squirming was doing all kinds of delicious things to John's body. His cock started to fill again in anticipation. "Is that a challenge?" "Just a fact." John forced Brycen's legs closed, his thighs pinning them together. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against the sensitive skin beneath Brycen's ear. "Do you remember

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our phone conversation? The one where I asked you to save it for me?" He let his tongue trace the shell of Brycen's ear, causing him to shudder beneath him. Brycen's breath caught. Oh yeah, he remembered the conversation. "Remember how I told you I wanted to straddle you?" He moved up Brycen's body until he could feel the growing erection pressing against the crease of his ass. "Watch your face as I fucked myself on your beautiful prick." Brycen whimpered, his body beginning to tremble, hips jerking. "Want you to fuck me," he whispered against Brycen's ear. "Wanna feel you for days." Reaching out, Brycen snatched the lube and condoms from the bedside table, throwing the lube at John as he began opening the foil package. "Get yourself ready, but, fuck, hurry." John chuckled as he slicked his fingers and lifted his weight from Brycen. "Thought you said you couldn't get it up again." His words and laughter morphing into a moan as his slick finger breached his opening. God, it'd been so long since he'd had anyone inside him. His heart was slamming in his chest, his cock leaking, and his head

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spinning in anticipation of Brycen filling him. Brycen watched him. His heated eyes focused on him as he fumbled with the condom and struggled to roll it on with trembling fingers, his hips rocking, making the task that much more difficult. "That naughty mouth of yours, the thought of you riding me… fuck, how can I not?" "Good answer," John moaned as he added a second finger. "Ready, babe?" "For you? Always." Brycen wrapped a fist around the base of his cock, lining up the head with John's entrance, gasping as John began to lower himself. John moved down, taking Brycen inside, the bursts of pleasurable pain making his eyes roll back in his head. Brycen pulled his hand away and John lowered himself slowly, feeling every ridge of Brycen's cock. As his ass met Brycen's thighs, he froze, relishing in being filled by his lover. He had never given himself to anyone he cared about like he did Brycen, and he wanted to roar with how perfect it felt, how perfect they fit together. He forced open his eyes to look down at Brycen. So hot. He slowly began to rock his hips, forcing a groan from both of them. Brycen grabbed his hips, moving in sync with them, never taking his eyes from John. "Jesus, you're so

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beautiful." John didn't say a word and thrust down harder, taking Brycen deeper into his body. He loved the way Brycen's eyes were devouring him, how his breath hitched with each thrust, and the sexy little moans escaping his parted lips. The combination was too much, ratcheting his lust to a boiling point. He gave into the passion, accepting Brycen's thick cock into his body over and over, the stretch and burn so sweet. One hand braced on Brycen's chest, the other pulled hard at his own cock. "Fuck… Oh God you feel so…" The rest of what he would have said turned into a deep growl. His entire focus was on the cock in his ass and the heat in those magnificent eyes. The perfect union of flesh as their bodies flowed together in powerful waves. Brycen planted his feet on the bed, hands tightening on John's hips as he began thrusting harder. Brycen met every downward thrust of his hips with an answering powerful thrust upward. "John… close." John grunted in response, his ability to form coherent phrases long forgotten. Their frenzied pace became animalistic and brutal. He could feel the orgasm begin to build at the base of his skull. He fought to hold on, not ready to have this phenomenal feeling end. God, he had nearly missed out on this. He had nearly lost this incredible

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creature that was turning his world inside out, leaving him breathless. This man he'd fallen completely in love with. He cried out as his orgasm ripped through him with the enormity of just how strong the love was. Brycen went rigid, and John's name roared in an echoing response. He drifted, suspended in sheer bliss as he rode out each wave of his orgasm as it crashed into him, until the last shudder left his body and he collapsed onto Brycen chest. "Oh sweet hell," Brycen sighed. "I take it you liked that?" he huffed into Brycen's neck. "Enough to drag my ass up out of this bed, shower, and do it again." John patted Brycen's chest, groaning as he shifted and Brycen slipped out of him. "Give me a minute." He rolled, threw one leg up over Brycen's thigh, and snuggled up against his shoulder. "I'll get my second wind in a moment." They were going to be stuck together if they didn't get up and clean up but, as his eyes closed, it didn't seem like it was very important. At least not as important as the way his body was melting into his lover's, his love.

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Chapter Thirteen For the first time in a week, Brycen slept deeply. He woke without the familiar ache in his chest. Instead, he felt a delicious ache in all the right places. The warm body wrapped around him, the soft snuffle against his neck, and the fact it was John all combined to make him feel as if he could finally take a full breath. He had been swimming in passion, his brain not firing on all cylinders, but he could have sworn John had asked him to move in with him. Part of him had been screaming, oh hell yeah! The logical half reined in his enthusiasm. Waking up with John in his arms every morning was something he craved in his soul, yet he was still scared shitless. What would happen if he said yes and John realized Brycen was not really what he wanted? It was too soon, wasn't it? The break up with Elijah had been rough. Brycen questioned every minute detail of his relationship with is ex'. He could not think of anything he had done to improve himself either. He hadn't worked at making himself a better partner, a better lover, and the fucking self-improvement books were a waste of money. Happiness is found deep in our own hearts. Love yourself and others will love you 168

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back. What a crock of shit. As much as he would love to move in with John, spend his life with him, it was unrealistic. Jesus, you just spent the most incredible night of your life with the man you thought you lost, and you're lying here wallowing before he even leaves the bed. There was some truth in that. If he had learned nothing else over the last week, it was that he wanted John. He wanted him completely in every way. Yet, knowing what he wanted did not mean he knew how to achieve his dream. Maybe if he held John off about moving in together, he could figure it out. Brycen groaned as John rolled away, reminding him he had fallen asleep without completely cleaning up. The remnants of their shared passion were now cold and dry against his skin. He forced himself to get up and leave the warmth of his bed. He set the taps before stepping into the shower and began soaping his body, letting the warm spray cascade down across his face. He jumped when arms wrapped around him and pulled him against a solid chest. "Morning," John said in greeting as he licked the water rivulets from Brycen's neck. His work-calloused hands began to wander against Brycen's soap-slick chest.

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Brycen leaned back, letting John take some of his weight. He loved the feel of John's hands against his skin. "Morning," he sighed. John's hands continued to roam softly over his slick skin. "I woke up and you were gone." "Sorry, you looked pretty peaceful and I had a bad case of crustiness." John laughed as he reached over, poured out a dollop of shampoo, and began massaging it into Brycen's hair. "That doesn't sound very appealing." "Mmm, it didn't feel very appealing either, but, God, that does." John continued to massage his scalp. "Rinse that," John urged as he pushed him back into the spray, moving with him. He could feel John's growing arousal against his ass. "My turn," he demanded as he turned in John's arms. His own arousal began to bloom. He grabbed the shampoo and began massaging it into John's hair, his body swaying, seeking out the sweet friction against his cock. God, he had it bad. He had never experienced anything more perfect than the feel of John against him. He had never seen anything more amazing than the way John's sea green eyes watched him. John let the water wash away the shampoo then

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leaned in until their mouths met. His arms snaked around Brycen's waist, stopping the movement of his hips. "Not so fast. No post orgasmic bliss until you answer my question." Brycen whimpered, trying to get John to keep moving, keep rocking his hard prick against his belly. "What question?" he moaned. "We're not sticky or smelly. We're not basking in post mind-blowing sex." John winked. "Therefore, I am asking you again to move in with me. I want you in my bed every night. I want to wake up wrapped around you. I nearly lost you over a stupid misunderstanding, and I've been miserable without you." Brycen stared into those serious green eyes. He reached up, stroked the slight stubble on John's cheek. He loved the way John leaned into his touch. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this amazing man. He wanted it like he had never wanted anything before. He wanted to believe he could have someone like John and be enough for him. However, he still couldn't convince himself that he deserved it. He shook his head, unable to hold John's gaze any longer. He turned, cutting the flow of water and stepping out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried himself quickly as he returned to his room. Snatching

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sweats and a T-shirt from his dresser, he threw them on before John stepped into the room. John had a towel wrapped around his lean hips, water droplets running down his golden body. He was too sexy for words. Untouchable, unattainable were the thoughts that popped into his mind. "No, you can't move in with me or no, you don't want to move in with me?" John asked as he advanced on him. "I… I can't." John grabbed his arms in a tight grip, refused to let him turn away. "I know it's sudden, but why can't you? I know you feel it too. I feel it in the way you respond to me, the way you look at me. I promised you last night I wouldn't ever doubt you or take you for granted. I can make you another promise; I won't let you go without one hell of a fight." Those intense green eyes bore into his. "I may not be the greatest catch, but I've learned a few things. I will work harder to make you happier than anyone you will ever meet in the future. No one will try harder than I will." Brycen wrenched free of John's grip. "That's the second time you've said that." He shoved at John, insecurity replaced by anger at how ridiculous John sounded. "That's such bullshit and you know it. Look at you." He waved his

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hands at John. "What the fuck do you mean 'not the greatest catch'? You could have anyone you wanted. You think I don't know that? I wasn't enough for an asshole like Elijah, how the hell am I ever going to be enough for someone as wonderful as you? Work hard enough to be enough for you?" He suddenly needed to be away from John. He would be damned if he would stand here with all his shortcomings on display and cry like a fucking baby. He tried to shove past John, but John grabbed him, pulled him into a tight bear hug before he could escape. "Jesus, you're more than enough. More than I could ever hope for." Brycen found himself reacting to John's warmth, melting against John's solid chest. He wanted to believe him. John stroked his back as he talked. "I'm not a job, Bry. I just want to know while I am gone during the day, I have you to look forward to when I come home. I want to know that when I get home, I have you to share my day with. I want to hear about your day. Feel you wrapped around me each night. When I wake up, the first thing I want to see is your face. I want to know that no matter how shitty my day was, I'll have you to make it all worthwhile at the end of it." John pushed him toward the bed.

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Brycen allowed John to get him tucked up under the covers. He rested his head on John's shoulder, listened to his steady heartbeat. His warm fingers caressed the skin of his back. Soothed some of the panic and anger he was feeling. "Why do you keep saying you're not the greatest catch? You do know how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?" John shrugged. "It doesn't sound all that ridiculous to me. I thought I was in love once. His name was Jacob and I thought he hung the stars. I did everything I could to make him happy. Gave it my all, ya know." John shrugged again. "One day he came home and told me I wasn't enough, that he needed more than I could give him. I mean, I get it, I don't have a lot of money, don't have a fancy degree or anything, just my shop. Don't really have a lot to offer, but I know since I've met you, I want to try to be enough for you." Brycen raised his head and met those extraordinary green eyes. "Excuse my French, but Jacob was a fucking idiot. You could be a fry cook, living in a cardboard box, and I'd still think you were a hell of a catch." He nuzzled the side of John's neck. "It's me I'm not so sure of," he admitted. John kissed along his temple, the heat from those

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lush lips spreading out, enveloping Brycen in warmth. "What about you, Bry? What happened to you? What made you think you weren't good enough, or you didn't work hard enough?" Brycen laid his head back down on John's shoulder. "Elijah happened to me." **** What was it about opening up to John and telling him about all the pain in his heart? It wasn't as if it changed the past or erased the pain from his memory; the events had happened. The pain caused by such events still left their marks even though he survived them. Yet sharing a personal tragedy, a failure, was freeing. It was as if he no longer had to carry the burden alone, no longer suffering in silence. It became a shared experience with John who had listened and understood. Liberated was exactly how he felt after he and John shared the misadventures of Elijah and Jacob. Sharing what he had thought of as his failures, and learning John also felt many of the same things that he had, brought them together. The other shoe did not fall. Their relationship was just that… easy. As he watched John carry

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in the last of the boxes from the car, boxes that contained the remaining items from his apartment, he realized simple sure as hell did not mean boring. John bent setting the boxes he carried on the floor. His movement accentuated his firm ass in his tight jeans as he bent. Brycen's prick jerked at the sight. "Oh yeah, nothing boring about that in the slightest." "What was that?" John asked as he straightened and turned toward Brycen. "Did you say something, babe?" Brycen moved toward him, instantly enveloped in John's warmth as John wrapped his arms around him. His hands slid around John, resting on that firm, sweet ass that he would be coming home to every night. He squeezed the firm muscles and leaned in to place a soft kiss to John's lips. "I love you." John smiled. His answering kisses, a sweet and gentle slide of his lips. "I love you too." As the kiss deepened, Brycen knew it was that simple. It was humans, their expectations and past experiences that turned love into something complicated. He started backing John towards their bed, the bed he planned to share with John for the rest of his life. It was true. What's more simple than love? The End

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About the Author SJD Peterson, better known as Jo, hails from Michigan, an odd place for someone who hates the cold. A true believer in romance, sizzling sheets and that it's all in the touch! Website: http://sjdpeterson.blogspot.com/ Facebook: facebook.com/SJD.Peterson Blog: http://sjdpeterson.blogspot.com Email: [email protected]

Also by SJD Peterson:

Available from Silver Publishing: Simple Available from All Romance eBooks: "Masters and Boyd" in Stuff My Stocking Lorcan's Desire Quinn's Need (September 2011)