“Take a Chance on Me”

M/M Gay For You Romance

Max Hudson

© 2017

Max Hudson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.

Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/ (courtesy of Jerry Cole).

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images & are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.

Edition v1.00 (2017.07.18)

http://www.maxhudsonauthor.com

Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Scotty Z, Ann Attwood and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter One

“Shit!”

Blood flowed from the wound Jake had just inflicted on himself. His thumb throbbed. Dammit!  Just what I need right now! Dropping the knife on the counter, he held his injured thumb under the running tap and then wrapped it in a clean paper towel. Going to the drawer where he kept supplies for kitchen emergencies, he withdrew the analgesic anti-bacterial ointment and a large adhesive bandage, and once he was done, he washed the sink, the counters around it, and the knife with hot soapy water and bleach. Then he finished his task on the cutting board which he retrieved from its spot on the wall.

It had been a while since he had cooked anything from scratch for anyone, including himself, but this evening’s dinner was important, both professionally and personally. Had it only been two years since he had been bound to a hospital bed, no memory of what had brought him there, no feeling in his legs…no leg on the right side below the knee? Panic and rage had warred in him then, with a heaping helping of bitterness and guilt on the side. Before his discharge, Purple Heart medal tucked in with his skivvies, former Army Captain Jacob Pratt had been a respected leader among his peers. He still kept in contact with the few to whom he was closest, the men who had stuck by him in all those dark months, after he had returned to the U.S., his body broken from a surprise enemy attack in Afghanistan. He couldn’t even wipe his ass back then, or blow his nose, or feed himself. He’d growled and snapped at anyone who refused to let him lick his wounds alone. 

And when his memory returned, he’d snarled out his furious grief for the men he should have saved, drowning in his guilt over their deaths in almost rabid PT, determined to be the man he was before. Before his life spiraled out of control in the hot dusty streets of a war-torn village half a world away. But those who knew him best had rallied around him, even when he raged at them. Finally, he had given in to their persistence and sought counseling, bitching and screaming inside the whole time. It infuriated him that he couldn’t manage his emotions like the tough-as-nails soldier he was supposed to be.

As he finished prepping the chicken breasts and made the stuffing, he remembered the first time he had gone to see the therapist. Next to Jake, the man was small in every way, except in his personality, which took no prisoners. He had handled Jake’s hostility with calm finesse, shaking his hand in a strong grip, looking him in the eye despite the height difference between them, not backing down when Jake spat out his fury and impotence in their sessions. He pushed Jake, goaded him, forced him to consider his emotions, to separate raw feelings from hard facts, to see what his heart wouldn’t let him forgive himself for knowing…that he couldn’t have done anything to save his men. That the power had not been his, that it had not been his time to make the ultimate sacrifice.

And Doug had done it all without making Jake feel more like a fool than he already had done for needing to talk out his issues with a stranger. He knew he would still be in that dark place, with no light in sight, without someone who he could bare his soul to. Now, Doug Wilder was a friend, which made it more difficult for them to keep their professional relationship. But Jake figured he had learned enough to make it on his own, and he knew Doug would have his back if he needed to vent.

It was Doug who had helped him figure out that he didn’t want to go into security, like so many of his Army buddies had done when they ended their time in the military. He’d had enough of guns and war, of being responsible for the safety of others. His nightmares, which had become less and less frequent over the past two years, were filled with the violence of his former profession. He had saved many but, in the end, he had failed to save his team. He couldn’t in all good conscience ask anyone to trust him to secure them or their possessions ever again. He couldn’t trust himself…that right there was the naked, galling truth. He ground his teeth at the idea that he had lost his nerve, his confidence in himself as the protector. But there was nothing he could do to change the way things were. 

Instead, he drew on his other strength. He was an artist, and had always been. If he had time, when his men needed relief from the heavy weight of war, he had entertained them with sketches and cartoons. Sometimes he took candid shots of them on his phone, of the landscape, war torn and poignant, and shared them with whoever wanted them. And every time he was stateside, he had chosen to frame the five he liked best and discard the rest. These days, his paintings and photographs were bringing in unexpected financial returns, and had been over the last few months. Now he was poised to start his own business. 

Doug had encouraged him to explore his talents, to enter competitions, to send his work out to publishing houses and museums, to set up a website to display and sell them. That had partly been a therapeutic move…if Jake were busy working, he’d be too busy to stay in his head, and the deep grief and guilt would have little to feed on. The strategy had worked remarkably well, enough that when they decided to end their professional relationship, Jake had kept it together with just his immersion in his work. And starting a new business was a whole different kind of challenge for him, one that he welcomed and surprisingly enjoyed.

Tonight’s dinner was to network with a couple of small independent publishing houses, specializing in science fiction and fantasy and LGBT novels. They were looking to hire new artists for their cover designs, and Doug knew someone who knew someone in one of the companies—his boyfriend was a web content manager in one of the two houses.  Rather than take them out to a fancy restaurant, where he would have to lay out a lot of money with the possibility of little or no return, Jake had invited them to dinner at his farmhouse just far enough away from New York City to be considered exclusive without being quite rural.

He finished the prep and began to cook. The wine was chilling—he wasn’t one of those people who thought wine shouldn’t be chilled beyond room temperature. It was the height of summer, and he’d rather not offer his guests lukewarm wine. He had also bought some beer and a few bottles of flavored seltzer for people who might prefer non-alcoholic beverages. There was no soda, but he also had hard liquor, if anyone cared for that instead. His cell phone rang, and he closed the oven door and went to answer it.

“Jake Pratt.”

“Hi, it’s Doug. Need any help?” Doug’s voice boomed over the phone. For such a little guy, he had a remarkably powerful voice.

“No, I’m good.  But if you’re looking to come out earlier, feel free. The pool’s ready for guests now.”

Doug laughed. “You know me too well. But I don’t want to leave John behind, and he’s just brought home a mutual friend we haven’t seen in a while. I was just wondering if you can handle one more for dinner. Dave’s a writer with one of the companies, and he’s looking for a cover design for the last book in his first series, so it’d be good for business.”

“There’s enough food here to give everyone a care package when you leave, so yeah, I can handle one more for dinner.” Jake considered for a moment, and then added, “And if the client’s with you now and doesn’t mind hanging out until dinner time, you can still come straight on out and enjoy the pool.”

Trying to be more sociable like Doug always encouraged him to be, he extended the invitation. If it would do his business any good, he would hobnob with anyone who was a potential client, even though his knee jerk response was to refuse. Going back to the table, he added an eighth set—dinner plate, knife, fork, and spoon, water glass, wine glass. He eyed the buffet setting. Thank God his father had insisted that he work in their restaurant as soon as he was old enough to do so legally. He had inherited his love of cooking from his chef dad and his love of art and design from his interior designer mom. He had made sure to cook every time he was stateside between deployments, and once he was discharged from hospital and could move effortlessly on his prosthetic leg, it had become the other therapeutic strategy he used to help him cope with the ever-present grief.

An hour later, he heard a car drive up and went to let his friend in.  Doug led the way, walking ahead of two men who were taller than he was.  One he recognized as John, Doug’s boyfriend. The other was a shockingly handsome stranger. Jake thought he ought to recognize the visitor, but when they reached the front door, he still couldn’t place him. The man was almost as tall as Jake’s own six five, as wide in the shoulders, with eyes the color of a cat’s, and a walk to match. Something all too familiar, but long unfelt, stirred in Jake at the sight of his mystery guest. His gut clenched, his chest tightening, his breath hitching in awareness when their eyes met. He swallowed and reminded himself that the stranger was a potential client.

“Jake, my friend!” Doug, whose own height still only brought his head up to Jake’s shoulder, reached in and hugged him. It had taken Jake almost a year to get comfortable enough to let anyone touch him like this, but Doug felt familiar, and safe. 

“Good to see you again, Doug,” he said, ushering them all into the living room. “John, how are things?”

“Better and better, Jake,” John said, fist bumping him. Then he turned to the stranger. “David Moussa, meet Jacob Pratt. Jake, my friend Dave.”

“Welcome,” Jake said, extending a hand and bracing himself for Dave’s touch.

The younger man hesitated for just a moment, as though he wasn’t sure of what to do, before extending his own with a smile. Jake shook Dave’s hand, which was warm and hard, and fitted into his own with ease. He loved Dave’s firm grip, and had to will himself to let go. It shouldn’t be so difficult, and he neither understood nor liked it. He clenched his fist, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his jeans to lessen the feeling. Instead, he turned away, saying as he did so, “Help yourselves to drinks, unless you want something else. I have beer and seltzer in the kitchen.”

“I’ll sort out drinks,” Doug offered, eyeing him knowingly. “You go ahead and finish up.”

Grateful for Doug’s understanding—he was shaking from the rush of emotion that had swept over him at Dave’s touch—Jake retreated to the kitchen and lost himself in the task of finishing the meal. Starters, entrees, dessert…everything was ready. He hurried through a shower after that and donned black slacks and a white button-down cotton shirt, open at the collar. He could feel the tension gathering in his limbs, and he tried to relax, knowing if he didn’t he’d be in pain by the end of the evening.

Forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply, he waited until he felt more in control before venturing back into the living room. His other guests began to arrive minutes later, giving him something to do other than focus on his breathing and his hyper awareness of Dave. The three women and one man who arrived within moments of each other greeted everyone with hugs and handshakes, and Jake called them for dinner immediately.

“Damn! Doug forgot to mention that you’re a chef as well, Jake!” Emma Stokely said, licking her lips as she ate. She was the publishing rights manager for one of the houses. “This is delicious. Can I get the recipe?”

“You can have anything you want, Emma,” he replied with a quiet chuckle, “though I would be careful how you throw the word ‘chef’ around. My dad would disagree with you completely.”

Doug and John laughed, knowing Jake’s story well, and Jake sat back and let Doug tell it, while he surreptitiously watched his unexpected guest.  The younger man was quiet, though not shy. He was watching the others, as Jake was, and when their eyes met for the second time, Jake’s whole body flushed with heat. Those cats’ eyes were hypnotic, drawing him in, effortlessly seducing him to get lost in them. This man represented trouble with a capital “T.” And the last thing Jake needed was any more problems.

He dragged his eyes away, tuning back into the conversation in time to hear Doug say, “Jake’s dad owns the Scotch Bonnet restaurants. How many now, Jake?”

“If you’re counting the one he’s about to open in New York City, four.”

“I’ve heard of that place.” Dave spoke for the first time, his voice a husky brush of sound. “My parents went there for their thirtieth anniversary, and they loved it. Best meal they ever had. They both said so.”

Jake smiled at him. “Well, I’m glad they enjoyed it. Dad’s been a foodie all his life. He’ll be happy to know he made someone’s day.”

By the time he was ready to serve dessert, everyone wanted to know what was in the stuffing of the bell peppers and what the risotto was flavored with.  His roasted garlic-and-onion potatoes were cheered as smoky and sweet, and everyone wanted seconds of the salad. Remembering to celebrate his victories, Jake relaxed and enjoyed the praise. He loved knowing that he had succeeded in pleasing his guests. At least he got something right, for a change.

“Get out of your head, my friend.”

Doug’s voice brought him back to the moment. He had come out to the kitchen to help Jake bring the bowls in to the guests. 

“Sorry. Just remembering to accept praise.”

“Just don’t go any further than that. The food was great, and you’re impressing the pants off everyone.”

“Good to know.”

Now Jake was eager to get on with the business portion of the evening, needing to set out his work before the eyes of the assembled group. If anything was to come of all his hard work in the kitchen, it would happen when they saw what he could do out of it. He had set up the video presentation in his media room, and before long, Doug had them all gathered in the space for the viewing.

Jake talked about the pieces, about the places that inspired them, the people he saw, the feelings they drew from him, losing himself in his passion for the work he had selected to share. There were sketches, landscapes, still life drawings and paintings, portrait paintings and photographs, and everyone had something to say about what they were seeing.

“Do you know any of these people in the pictures?” That question from Scott Brady, the art editor at the other publishing house.

“No. I used a new zoom lens I had just bought for those. I wasn’t even trying to get them originally, but when I saw them, I knew I had to capture them. The composition was just too perfect to pass up.”

“I only ask because you’re really good at capturing their expressions. Would you be interested in doing some work with models?”

Jake blinked. He had not expected to be asked such a question, but he recovered quickly. “Absolutely.” He kept his response short, not wanting to give away the hope that was beginning to well up inside him.

“Here’s my card. Give me a call in a couple of days. We may have some work for you.”

Keeping his expression cool, Jake accepted the card with thanks. Then the talk turned to his drawings and paintings. He hadn’t known what to expect, and he hid his worry when they asked about his experience working with novelists. Suppressing his nervous tension, he fielded their questions as calmly as he could.

“I’ve only been out of the Army for a little over two years,” he told them, “and I’m just beginning to find my feet again. I owe Doug a great deal for helping me figure out that this is what I want to do going forward. So, I’m open to suggestions for how to get that done.”

“Are you a reader, Jake?” Dave asked, startling him. He had been quiet throughout the presentation.

“Depends. I’m not much of a fiction guy, unless it’s action or science fiction.”

“By action, you mean…?”

What was this…some kind of interview? Jake didn’t like the questions Dave was asking, though he knew he was being unreasonable. That’s why they were there, after all, and this was an unofficial job interview. He had no reason to be offended or upset.

“Fast-paced drama, like in spy stories.”

He decided that keeping his answers short was his safest bet. Would they refuse to hire him if he didn’t like to read the stuff they published?  Would this guy refuse him if Jake didn’t like his stories? Could he afford to alienate potential clients because he was struggling with his unexpected attraction to one? Which reminded him…

“Doug tells me you’re a writer, Dave. What do you write?”

It was well past time to turn the tables on this guy, who had come into his home and disturbed his equilibrium. Amusement flared in Dave’s eyes, as though he knew what Jake was doing, and found it funny. Irritation rose inside Jake. He recognized Dave’s power to stir him up more than he wanted to be. His lack of control pissed him off even more.

“I write science fiction stories.”

Apparently, Dave had signed up for the same short-answer class as Jake, which was fine by him. He didn’t need to hear any more of that husky voice which was shivering over his nerve endings like a feather over chest hairs. Jake shuddered at the thought and looked up to find Dave’s eyes on him again.  He looked away at once and was relieved when his other visitors also offered him their cards. The other three said they would call him in a week or so and asked him to send them the presentation electronically. He remembered at the last moment to give them his card as well, something Doug had insisted that he needed to keep around.  He even handed one to his unexpected guest, as a courtesy, he told himself, wishing he could believe the lie.

At the end of the evening, Doug and his boyfriend were the last to leave, which meant that Dave was also still around at the end. Jake tried to ignore the tension sitting on his shoulders because of him. It was better for his peace of mind if he spent his emotional energy on the people he knew.  If this guy wanted his business, he would ask for it. If not, no skin off Jake’s nose. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

“Thanks for a great meal, my friend,” Doug was saying. “And you did really well on the presentation. I think you’re soon gonna have more work than you anticipated.”

“Thanks for your help, Doug,” Jake replied. “And you too, John. I couldn’t have pulled this off without you guys.”

“No problem, man,” Doug replied. He turned to his partner and added, “John has an early flight tomorrow, so we’d best be on our way.”

Jake led them all to the door, and as he opened it, Dave said, right behind him, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Pratt.”

Dismay crawled up Jake’s spine at the tone of Dave’s words. There was something admiring about them, but also something deeper, more intense…something he wasn’t prepared to hear or to deal with.

“Captain Pratt is gone,” Jake said harshly. “I’m just Jake.”

He turned away as he spoke, unable to meet the younger man’s eyes. He couldn’t deal with the emotions that the words had set off in him. He knew the man had meant no harm by his words, but they reminded him of all that he had lost, of the men he had failed to save, of his never-ending guilt bubbling inside him. He bared his teeth to smile at Doug, who he knew had sensed the change in his mood.

“I’ll call you,” Doug said, hurriedly ushering the other men out.

Jake watched them pile into John’s car and drive away, and long after they disappeared, he stood in the open doorway, fists clenched, jaws tight, fighting the emotion burning inside him. 

Chapter Two

The cell phone blared loudly in Dave’s ear, and he reached over to shut it off, groaning as he turned over. It was too early to be up, and his body ached. He needed more sleep. But he had promised his mother he wouldn’t miss this month’s family breakfast, and she lived an hour away, close to where he had been the night before. Thoughts of his evening drew a groan from him. Jacob Pratt was going to be a problem. Dave wanted to work with the guy, but he knew his interest was not purely professional. And that was shocking and unsettling to him.

Slinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stretched and yawned, scratching his belly lazily. Sleeping in the nude was very liberating, but he wondered, as he looked down at his morning wood, if he would be so cavalier about his nakedness if he had a housemate or lover. Sighing, he rose and went to the en suite bathroom to do his business, wash his face, and brush his teeth. Back in the bedroom, he slid on a pair of shorts and went to make himself a cup of coffee.

The idea of a lover was a dream for Dave, who had not been in any kind of relationship for years. Before college, he had been too shy to speak to girls, especially when it became known that his father was Egyptian. He hadn’t pursued them until his sophomore year, when he fell in love with Jenny Soto. They had shared a common heritage of exclusion and discrimination, but they had clearly not been meant to be, as her eventual rejection confirmed.  He had been completely bowled over by her grace, wit and charm, not to mention her stunning beauty, but she had clearly not felt the same way about him. And after she left him, he had never tried his luck with love again. Fortunately, so far he hadn’t been attracted to anyone else as he had been to her, so it had been easy to stay aloof.

He poured himself a cup of coffee when the machine stopped gurgling and went back to his bedroom to figure out what to wear. His family was large and rambunctious, but his mother wouldn’t appreciate him turning up for breakfast looking like a slob. She was especially keen to find him a wife, and these breakfasts had become a kind of meat market, with him as the prime cut on display for the women his mother brought over to share their family time.

Dave shook his head, searching through his closet for something he would be comfortable in. No one, it seemed, recognized the inherent irony in that. If these were family occasions, why were strangers always present? And why were the strangers always female? His siblings were all either married or in committed relationships, which was another sore point with his mother, who often wondered why her only son couldn’t find himself a wife. It didn’t help that he was the oldest of her children, either. He sighed, choosing black slacks and a white button-down linen shirt. His mother could find no fault with the outfit, even if it didn’t scream “successful author”. At least it didn’t scream “loser” or “layabout,” either.

He drained the cup and showered quickly, dressing and adding cologne, again mostly to please his mother, who liked her son not just to look the part, but also to smell the part of the ultra-successful man.  He gritted his teeth, frowning in irritation. No part of his life should still be run by his mother. He was a grown man, not a boy. He didn’t need her help to find a lover. He didn’t want her help, so why the hell was he letting her manipulate him? He wasn’t a mama’s boy, for Pete’s sake! He would choose who he wanted to love. He’d have to tell her to stop throwing women at him.  Because after his reactions to the stud of an ex-Army captain last night, he knew he was in trouble.

Fisting his keys and sliding his wallet into his back pocket, he walked out to the kitchen, putting the mug into the dishwasher and walking out to his car. His body stirred in renewed awareness as he thought of Jake Pratt. Starting the vehicle, he backed out onto the road. This tingling, breath-stealing, heart-shaking feeling had only ever happened to him before when he had been in love…with a woman. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this guy, and he had met big, handsome men before. John was a good looking big guy, and Dave had been friends with him for years.  He had known John before he and Doug became an item, and there had never been even a spark between them.  So, why was he suddenly so hyper aware of the gorgeous ex-soldier with the tattoos and the wicked scar down his cheek?

He made the turn onto the highway and switched the channels on the radio. Jazz music pumped out at him, but it could not distract him from his thoughts. He had never thought much about his sexual preferences, even as a randy college man. He’d liked girls. He found them attractive and sexy, even if that was all. But he’d also found a few guys equally as appealing. He had chalked it up to him being an enlightened guy instead of a Neanderthal, and given that he was what his best friend the jock called “artsy fartsy,” Dave figured his assessment of his feelings was probably right. Most artists and writers who he had known back then had been far more sensitive and thoughtful than their peers, and he was happy to be one of them. Girls liked sensitive guys.

After Jenny told him she just wasn’t into him anymore, and that she had, in fact, found someone she was into in every way, he had shut down his emotions completely. He hadn’t begged her to stay, hadn’t asked her why, hadn’t railed at her for betraying his trust. In fact, if he was to be totally honest, he had felt a bit relieved, even with being hurt that he had been right, that she had been too good for him.  Because he had never been quite good enough for her. He had never thought that he deserved a girl like her, and he had always wondered why she was with him when she could have had any other better looking, smarter, more charismatic guy. Being with her had been exhilarating but exhausting. He had needed to calm her when she cried, feeling guilty that he wasn’t more upset.

The music became a backdrop to Dave’s thoughts as he drove. He had tried to be with a few girls after Jenny, and they’d done their best to reach the part of him he kept locked away, but they sparked nothing more in him than a desire to avoid the whole dating scene. Eventually, he had decided that he must be asexual, that falling for Jenny had just been a fluke, and he had given up on a love life to build his career as a writer. He had been lucky to land an internship at a publishing house in his last year of college and landed a real job with them afterwards as an editorial assistant, writing all the time, sending his work in to magazines and working on his own novel after that.

His lucky break had come because of his friendship with a woman, whom he recognized now had probably been crushing on him before she also met the one who made him pale into insignificance. She had introduced him to the world of self-publishing, and with her help he had published his first novel under his pseudonym. He had chosen his mother’s maiden name as his last name, to avoid the problems an Egyptian surname could undoubtedly cause. David Boone went from relatively unknown to a hot name on Amazon Kindle in less than a year, and once his employers realized that they had a potential moneymaker on their hands, his career took off.

A truck’s horn blared, bringing him back to his surroundings with a start. He slowed just in time to avoid hitting the car ahead of him, which had stopped suddenly.  He tried to peer around the vehicle to see what the holdup was, but all he saw was a long line of traffic ahead of him. Sighing heavily, he snagged his phone and put through a call to his mother. He was going to be late, but if he called ahead, she wouldn’t be too annoyed…he hoped.

Eventually, the snarled traffic got moving again, and Dave made it to his mother’s imposing Victorian house on the quiet suburban road with all the other houses that looked exactly like it, on exactly the same acre of land, with the same trees and shrubs surrounding them. He drove onto the long driveway and parked in the spot he knew had been left for him. These family events always took place in the large backyard where, after his father’s death, his mother had a rather large gazebo erected, under which a long picnic table and benches had been positioned. The grill was located there, and the family could spend time between the shade and the in-ground pool that had been there before.

“Dave!”  His youngest sister Carla reached up to kiss his cheek as he passed by the kitchen, from which she was emerging with a platter. “Good to see you, stranger!”

Dave smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Where’s Tony?”

“Working, sadly.”

The rest of the family, in-laws and children included, were already sitting around the table.

“Uncle David, Uncle David, look what I got!” 

His nephew ran over to show him the robot toy he had that could transform into a big red and blue eighteen-wheeler. 

“Gramma bought me this for my birthday!”

Dave crouched next to his nephew and watched as the eight-year-old put the toy through its paces. He also loved the cartoons and movies, so he didn’t mind the distraction, but his mother was having none of it.

“David, stop encouraging the child. It’s time to eat. We’ve waited long enough for you. You can play with him when we’re done.”

Dave looked up, irritation bubbling to the surface. His oldest sister, the one closest to him in age, looked sharply at him and shook her head. He frowned slightly and she repeated the motion. Cindy had a good head on her shoulders and if she was warning him off getting into it with his mother, he’d pay attention.

“Okay, Benny, Grandma’s hungry. What say we go eat breakfast, huh?  We can play with your toy after.”

“Okay, Uncle David.” 

The little boy went to sit between Cindy and her husband, and David sat at the other end of the table, as his mother considered him the male head of the household when he was there. 

Benny’s twin, Kayla, said grace, and for the next half hour, no one spoke as they all dug in to eggs and bacon, hash browns and sausages, toast and jam, fruit salad, juice, and coffee. Dave noticed that there were no strangers at this meal, and he wondered if that had anything to do with his mother’s mood. Eventually, however, the talk turned to family matters. The twins were doing well in school, Carla’s man Joe had just gotten a promotion and the wedding plans were on, Cherry and her husband Tom were finally expecting, and Claudia was getting engaged.

“Wow! Lots of great news, guys! Congratulations!” Dave said, meaning it sincerely, though a part of him was cringing at the obvious contrast between his life and his sisters’. 

“And what’s your good news?” his mother asked pointedly.

Dave inhaled deeply and chose to respond to the question he knew she wasn’t asking. “Well, I think I may have found the cover artist for the last book in my series. And if he’s as good as I think he is, I hope he’ll be my cover artist until I croak.”

“Wow!  That’s great news, Dave. I know how long you’ve been looking for someone!” 

Cindy, bless her heart, was doing her best to help him distract his mother. Dave smiled at her.

“Yeah, it’s quite a coup for me. And he’s as unlikely an artist as you’ll ever meet.”

“Why so?” Carla asked. 

“He’s an ex-soldier, if you can believe it, tattoos and scars and all.  Only been discharged a couple of years.” Dave tried to keep his fascination for Jake Pratt out of his voice.

“No PTSD, then, huh?”

“I dunno. I just met him for the first time last night. We had dinner at his house. And, oh yeah…the guy can cook! Apparently, his father owns the Scotch Bonnet restaurant where you and Dad went…”

Dave’s voice trailed off. He closed his eyes for a moment, not knowing how his mother would react this time to the mention of her late husband.  He hadn’t meant to remind her to begin with. Despite his frustration with her interfering in his life, he loved his mother and would never deliberately hurt her.

Cindy came to his rescue again. “So, how did you end up at his house eating his cooking?”

“Remember John Falcone? He and Jake are friends, and he and his partner were invited up to dinner. I got invited by default, I guess, because I was with them.”

Dave eyed his mother, whose face had lost all expression for a long moment. She opened her eyes just as he looked up and smiled at him, nodding once as though to assure him that she was okay.

“That was hands down the best meal we had ever had in a restaurant,” she said. “Maybe someday you can take me back?”

Her tone was wistful at the end, and Dave’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. His dad had passed eighteen months earlier, but it was clear his mother still felt her husband’s loss keenly.

“Just say when, Ma,” he said.

She smiled again, and then added, “But I know you know I wasn’t talking about job news, David Omar Moussa. So, stop trying to distract me.  I want to know if you’re making any progress in the personal department.”

All the adults at the table laughed. There was just no avoiding his mother, and they were all amused. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Ma, but there’s still no one.”

“Aren’t you the big name sci-fi writer? How is it that you don’t have women hanging off your arm like all the other celebrities?” She sounded positively scandalized, much to Dave’s amusement.

“Maybe because I’m not a celebrity?” he answered. “I’m just a guy fortunate enough to get his books sold so he can make a good living from them. But there’s no star quality to me.”

He barely managed to stop himself from adding that if he were Jake Pratt, he’d have women like arm candy. To do so would be to enter uncharted waters.  He didn’t want eyebrows raised at him in question when they figured out that he was obviously attracted to the man. The subject of homosexuality had never come up in their household because everyone had partners of the opposite gender. He, himself, had only ever had girlfriends.  Now was not the time for him to test those waters. It wasn’t as though he was even interested in anything with Jake Pratt. It was just an unexpected reaction, and he was sure it would disappear without any effort on his part, especially if they had no further contact after last night. Assuming the man was hired by his publishing house, all their business dealings could be done via emails and phone calls.

And anyway, for all he knew, Jake Pratt, big, brawny ex-soldier that he was, would flatten him if he were ever to discover Dave’s interest in anything other than his skills as an artist. His breathing quickened as he imagined Jake’s brawny body pinning his lover up against a wall, in bed…  Shit!  He didn’t need to be thinking about Jake’s sex life, and certainly not in the same breath as his own.  Annoyed with himself for letting such thoughts assault him in the middle of time with his family, he frowned, prompting his mother to say, “Don’t frown at me, young man. I’m your mother. I’m within my rights to ask about your love life.” Before he could frown at her for real, she continued, “And you need to stop putting yourself down. Just because you’re not as forward as everyone else doesn’t mean you’re not as good as any of them out there.”

Dave had to smile. His mother was a fierce tiger when she was defending her young, and he would always be her little boy. He knew it.  They all knew it.  They would always be her babies.

“Reverend Dawson’s daughter Jill was supposed to come for breakfast this morning, but she cried off at the last minute…something about a death in the family. Which I find odd, because if there had been one, wouldn’t he have said something himself?” Dave’s mother sounded aggrieved.

Dave could not suppress his chuckle. “People die unexpectedly all the time, Ma.  It’s a perfectly acceptable excuse.”

“I’m sure you’re glad you didn’t have to meet her,” she snapped, irate and frustrated. 

“I actually enjoyed family time today,” he said, refusing to be intimidated.  “Let’s not fight now, okay?”

His mother harrumphed, but she held her tongue, and the rest of the morning went by pleasantly. Dave played with Benny and his toy, asked Kayla what she got, and oohed and aahed over the sketchpad she had been wanting with the prompts for drawing every day. His niece was a bona fide artistic genius, and she loved to watch people, just like he did. The difference between them was that she drew what she saw with pencil and brush, while he painted pictures with his words.

By lunch time, he was ready to go. He had to work on the edits for the final novel in his series, and he hoped he would hear something soon from his publisher regarding their decision about Jake. 

“Thanks for breakfast, Ma,” he said, kissing her on the forehead before walking down the driveway. “Be good.”

“I’ll be better when you bring home a girl.”

Chuckling indulgently at her parting shot, because he was leaving so he knew the conversation could go no further, he waved as he drove off.  He didn’t see that happening any time soon, and if the way he had reacted to Jake Pratt last night was any indication, it might not happen at all. His cheerful mood dissipated, replaced by tension that made his shoulders tight and clenched his fists on the wheel.  He made himself relax. He didn’t know for sure that it was more than a fleeting attraction to a gorgeous hunk. It would most likely never happen again. He could only hope he was right, because he wasn’t ready to face the possibility that he was interested in doing more than working with Jake Pratt. 

Chapter Three

Jake sorted through the photos he had taken the day before. God, where had the time gone? Four days since his dinner party, two since he had spoken to Scott Brady. Yesterday, he’d spoken with the commissioning editor interested in purchasing his work, who had told him that he’d hear more from Dave about his needs for the cover shoot.

He needed something to ground him, to get him out of his head.  Because the things whirling around inside of his mind were driving him crazy.

Dave Moussa. He was the kind of handsome that Jake had only ever seen on television, never in real life. None of his teammates had been as inexpressibly attractive to him as Dave was. And, he had been around some damned hot guys in the military. His daydreams these last four days were filled with erotic fantasies…all starring Dave. 

Yes, he needed to get laid, but he couldn’t muster the desire to leave his comfort zone to try and hook up with anyone. He’d been out and proud long enough to have enjoyed some great and some not-so-great hookups, but since his discharge, he hadn’t found the will or the desire to do even the basic things like check out a man’s ass. Until four nights ago. Instead, he suffered in silence. 

His phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize. Maybe it’s Dave.

“Jake Pratt.”

“Hi, Jake, it’s David Moussa. We met the other night at dinner with Doug?”

“I remember you. How can I help you?” His voice was tight. Damn it, he absolutely was not going to let any of his conflicting emotions out for this man to hear.

“Scott asked me to give you a call. He’d like us to set up a meeting to review my needs. For the cover.”  Dave’s voice had changed too. No longer warm and welcoming — almost inviting Jake to fall back into his fantasies— it had shot all the way to practically frigid.  

“Sure.  When would you like to meet?” Jake had only himself to blame for the way this conversation was going. He only had himself to blame for all of it, for fantasizing about the man so wildly inappropriately—Keep it professional! He’s nothing to you!

“I’ll be out of town for a week. I was wondering if you’d be free later to throw some ideas around.”

“I can meet in an hour. Where will you be?”

For the first time, Dave seemed to hesitate. “I thought I could come out to your place again, if that’s all right.  You have all the artwork there. I can run some ideas by you. You can sketch as we talk. Get it all over and done with?” 

Silence. Jake swallowed.

“Or somewhere else is fine. It’s up to you.”

Jake’s hands clenched tightly around his phone, hard enough to make the case squeal. His thumb shook as he mashed the icon for speakerphone, nearly dropping the phone as he did. 

He didn’t want this man in his home. He didn’t want his presence invading his sanctuary, a place Jake had tried—and failed—to keep free of his neurotic fascination with him. But, Dave was right. They could get everything done here, and quickly. What did that say about him, that he couldn’t manage his emotions enough to have a client over to discuss business? No, he was better than that.

And, Dave was straight. Or, most likely straight. He didn’t know for sure, but he’d put money on it, which made his attraction even more embarrassing. He was beyond falling for straight guys. That road led to disaster. He could do this. He could be professional, get the job done, and then say goodbye to Dave. They’d never have to worry about each other again.

“Give me an hour, and then you can come over. If you tell me a bit about your series, and specifically what your third book will be about, I can go ahead and make a few sketches for when you get here.” 

Strictly business. That would help him focus and avoid embarrassing himself or the man he wanted as a client. His professionalism, his future business, and his reputation were at stake. He had an hour to get his act together. He’d need to chill the hell out if he was going to finish any work with Dave Moussa around.

Dave talked with him for about ten minutes, giving him a rough synopsis of the series, and the central focus of the third book. After the call, Jake showered quickly and threw on jeans and an old Army t-shirt, and then threw together a quick lunch. Had Dave eaten? Well, he should play a good host, at least. Hoagies seemed like a good choice, with a salad and beer. 

Jake paced, rubbing his palms down the sides of his jeans. His gaze darted to the clock, once, twice, a third time. His stomach knotted. Why was Dave suddenly the one who got under his skin? Why now? Why this fascination? He’d have to sit down and have good long talk with himself, but this wasn’t the time. Dave would be there any moment.

If it wouldn’t seem like a real loser move, he’d call Doug for a quick pep talk.

The doorbell rang.

Jake spun, freezing for a moment. This isn’t a date. It’s a fucking business meeting. He would be damned if he’d let some hot stranger rattle his cage. 

He wrapped his professionalism around him like a shield, but when he opened his door and saw Dave standing there, slight panic in his eyes, a strained half-smile on his lips, and a flush on his cheeks, the head of steam he had rolled up to the door with vanished.

“Hi,” Dave said. “Hope I’m not early?”

Something in the husky tentativeness of his voice struck a chord with Jake. “No, you’re right on time. Come in.”

“I thought we could do a working lunch.” He led the way to his studio and invited Dave to have a seat. “Be right back.”

Jake grabbed the meal he’d slapped together, throwing it on a tray before heading back to the studio. Before he walked out of the kitchen, he took a deep breath, and then another.

Dave was examining the sketches he had tacked up on the enormous cork board next to the worktable.

“These are really exceptionally good,” Dave said, his eyes still on the artwork. “I wish I had that talent. I have a niece who does. The work she puts out, for her age, is brilliant…just like this.”

Jake felt a flush rise in his neck, a burn that went to his cheeks. Dave wasn’t looking, though. Good. He put the tray down on the table and cleared his throat. Accepting compliments as true was an important part of his rehabilitation.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

Dave turned and looked him in the eye.  “You’re welcome.”

Jake swallowed in the silence that strained the air in the studio.  “Please, have a seat and help yourself,” he finally said. 

Jake sat as far as he could from him. Dave straddled the high stool close to the drawings and sketches, and Jake closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength to make it through the next hour. God, Dave seemed to know how to push all his buttons without even being aware of it. What would Dave look like straddling something else?

He gritted his teeth at the hot spike of lust that shot through him when he opened his eyes again and saw Dave bite into his sandwich. Stifling his moan, Jake tried to find something to say. Nothing came to mind…at least, nothing he could say aloud. 

He tried not to see how Dave’s arms flexed and moved against his tight t-shirt as he lifted his beer, or look at his full, heart-shaped lips. He tried not to notice Dave’s thick thighs, hugged in denim, and spread just so.  Damn it, he had to refocus on the task at hand.

“So, I was thinking that maybe, since the focus of the last novel in the series is the unlocking of the final codes to unravel the full meaning of the Preceptor’s riddle, that we might go with an abstract sketch. Something to suggest the magic of the spells at his disposal, without giving away any secrets.”  Feeling an unaccustomed insecurity, Jake added quickly, “It’d also retain the sense of fantasy that your series has established.”

Jake felt the burn of Dave’s gaze like a brand on his skin. 

“I’d like to see what you can come up with,” Dave said. “I have an idea or two of my own, but you’re the artist.”

“Sure thing. I’ll show you.”

They swallowed the last of their sandwiches and pushed away the plates, and then got to work. Before long, Jake was lost in his ideas, and his clenching anxiety unfurled. Dave sat next to him, watching him work, but it was almost pleasant, instead of being a grating scratch on his soul. Almost comfortable. Almost like he could get used it…

“Wait a sec.” Dave’s voice interrupted his flow.

“What?” Jake sat back, growling.

Dave’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open, making a perfect little “o.”.

“Sorry. It’s difficult to get the focus back once it’s gone.” Jake never explained himself to anyone, but here he was, apologizing to Dave and feeling bad for his snap, too.

“Got it. And I understand. I hate being interrupted, too. I just wanted to ask if it would be better if you added some shadow here…” He reached across Jake to point to a spot on the sketch “…And then lighten here a bit more.” 

Temptation #6 wafted into Jake’s nose. Damn it, Dave was wearing a cologne that Jake loved. Go fucking figure. He stayed stiff, breathing in as much as he could while not moving a muscle, until Dave sat back again.  Why was Dave wearing cologne?  For a quick business meeting in the middle of the day? With a guy he didn’t care about, or even know? Jesus, Jake only wore cologne if he was trying to go out and get some. But, that was not happening here. It fucking wasn’t.

He looked down at the sketch, avoiding Dave’s glance. That’s not a bad idea.  You have a good eye.” 

Good, he sounded normal. He could get through this. Still, his heart was pounding and his skin was burning, as if he could already feel Dave pressed against him. Damn it!

He shaded and lightened, working quickly, and the effect was startlingly different, closer to what they had discussed. 

“I like this a lot.” Dave smiled. 

Jake grinned back. Dave had warm, friendly eyes, and perfect teeth. Two dimples at the corners of his mouth. “So do I.”  Not your eyes, or your smile and the way it warms me up inside. I mean the sketch. “I could do a few different sketches for you and then you can choose the one you like best for the cover. Then I could finish that one.”

“Or,” Dave countered, almost teasing, his eyes flashing, “you can leave it as is since I like it just the way it is.” He winked.

“Or that.” Jake laughed to relieve the hitch in his breathing. Who winks at a guy they’re not into? Was Dave flirting with him? “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” 

Dave chuckled with him and then turned to the cork board, flicking through the pages and pages of sketches he had tacked to it.

“Do you draw every day?”

“Yeah. Or I paint or take photos. It’s how I—” 

Dave was a stranger, but he’d almost blurted out the one thing he buried deeper than King Tut’s tomb. Only his parents and Doug knew about what had happened over there. About the permanent scars on his body and soul. 

Dave’s gaze was back on him. “It’s how you what?”

Jake shrugged, pasting a grin on his face. “It’s how I unwind.” 

Tension thrummed through him again, and he flicked his pencil against his palm, over and over. He didn’t want any prying into his life. He didn’t want people nosing into his business. What was done was done, and he had to live with it. And, more than anything else, he didn’t want anyone’s pity. He was drowning in pity.

God, he was so sick of everyone pitying him. Poor Jake. Poor, poor Jake, losing so much. What will he ever do again? 

Dave kept going, oblivious to the turmoil in Jake’s mind. “I know what you mean,” he said with a smile. “It seems like it should be counterintuitive, but writing is how I unwind, too. That, and working out.”

Jake blinked. Some of the panic building in his chest unwound. “Yeah, I can tell you work out.” He hoped that didn’t send the wrong message. But dammit, Dave was hot. He wouldn’t lie about that. “What do you do? Lift?”

“No, not really. I mostly jog and I swim.”

“Not a gym rat?”

“Not at all.” Dave jerked his chin back to Jake. “What do you do, now that you’re out? No more ‘o-dark hundred’ morning runs, calling cadence?”

Jake laughed loudly. He loved that Dave apparently knew something about life in the military. He found Dave’s gaze, and his breathing shorted. Dave’s tone was curious, but his eyes… There was something there. Something more than banal, bland conversation, the kind of small talk and bullshit clients and agents engaged in to pass the time before money changed hands.

Maybe there was a chance for real friendship with the man. Nothing more, of course. But…weren’t people telling him he needed to meet new people? Make connections? Here was a guy—a gorgeous guy—seemingly reaching out. Maybe he’d try this. Run it out, and see where it went.

“I swim, mostly. And I lift.” He dropped his pencil on the table. Work was over. Time to figure out how to socialize.

“I figured a tough guy like you would do the macho thing.” 

Was Dave teasing him? Jake grinned. “Tough guy, huh?

“Please. Of course you are. Ex-Army captain, tattoos, scar, badass attitude…the very definition of tough guy.” 

Dave was definitely teasing him. Jake laughed again. “I was in for almost thirteen years. Physical training becomes a lifestyle. It’s no joke in the field, and it’s a good way to shake the bad shit off.” 

Dave moved closer, standing almost beside him. God, he could feel Dave’s body heat, feel him almost touching his skin.

“Why did you leave the Army?”

There it was, the question he most hated answering. No answer was right, and nothing was perfect. Anything he said was a slippery slope at best.

“I was injured.” 

He swallowed hard, and his eyes darted away, looking at the corner and a tangle of dust bunnies that had taken up residence. He clenched his jaw, hoping Dave wouldn’t notice. What next? Another long litany of questions, all ending in pity?

Dave’s eyes roamed over him silently. Jake bore the scrutiny without flinching.

“That sucks. Seems like you’re doing great for yourself now, though. You’re an amazing artist, and your business is growing well.”

He turned to Dave, staring him in the eyes. No one, outside of Doug, had ever seemed to know how to handle the subject of his injury when he returned.  They had been devastated, angry, bitter, hopeless, right along with him, but they hadn’t known how to move beyond mirroring his feelings. 

But here was Dave, who seemed to get that Jake didn’t want sympathy, or even empathy. He wanted a future. He wanted to mean something again, do something that others noticed. That was good, and that someone valued.

All he wanted was acceptance. And Dave Moussa was giving it to him.  He was in so much fucking trouble…

Jake swallowed, clenching his fists around the sudden urge to grab the man standing almost in his personal space and plant a hot kiss on that heart-shaped mouth. Business meeting, remember? Can’t paw the man.  Not socially acceptable behavior.  He chastised himself silently, and managed to speak without giving away his internal struggle.

“Thanks. It’s definitely different from everything I’ve done before.”

Dave eyed him curiously. “How do you feel about your new job?  I mean, you seem like the type who gave your all in the work you did in the Army.”

Nothing happened. The panic Jake was expecting…absent. As were the anger and guilt. He blinked, choking himself to make sure he was awake.  Never had anyone come as close to the pain he carried around as Dave just had without Jake exploding.  Now, though the question still ripped open his wounds, he didn’t feel like falling to his knees in anguish. He didn’t want to rip Dave’s head off and hand it to him.  He didn’t snarl and snap like a rabid dog. He considered Dave’s eyes and there was only friendly interest. He inhaled deeply, to steady himself, and slow his suddenly racing heart.

“I love this.” Simple words, but they soothed the raw wounds inside him. He let himself recognize a new truth as he smiled at Dave. It was okay to love something other than soldiering. In fact, it was great. He was not a freak, he could be a badass artist as much as he had been a badass soldier.

“It’s easy to tell.” Dave’s words brought Jake’s focus back to the conversation.

“Yeah?  How can you tell?”

He needed to keep Dave talking, long enough to gather his fraying control back around him. 

“It’s in the way you look when you talk about your work. There’s just something in the lines, in the portraits, in the stories your photos and drawings tell. You’re in them. I can see you.”

Jake couldn’t talk anymore about his business, about his love of art.  It was suddenly too personal, in the same way that wanting to touch Dave’s face, or smooth his thumb over Dave’s lips, or drag Dave’s body up against his own was personal. Dave deserved more than the spiking lust that was making Jake hear what he was saying as though they were underwater, and he was drowning in his desires. He needed to end this meeting before he did something incredibly stupid like kiss Dave. Because even if it began as a gesture of gratitude for helping him realize something important about himself, it wouldn’t end that way.  And he couldn’t afford to lose a client.

“Thanks, man.” 

The words came out choked and dry, and he stood quickly, loading up the tray with the things from lunch and walking out to the kitchen. Dave followed, standing by the door and watching as Jake loaded the dishwasher. 

“So, when would you like the other sketches?”

He turned back to his guest, leaning against the kitchen sink and crossing his arms over his chest. The move hid his trembling hands from sight.

“I’ll be away next week, until Friday. So, Saturday?”

“Sounds good.”

“My place then, since you did the honors this time.”

“We don’t have to…”

“It’s not a problem. I’m no cook like you, but I can order Thai or Italian. Or anything you like, really.”

What I’d like is to crash into you, taste you, feel you everywhere.

“Okay. Anything you order will be fine.” Could he sound any more like a dying man on his last breath? 

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

Immediately, the air between them changed, became supercharged with testosterone. Jake saw the flare of some awareness light up Dave’s eyes, and he felt the heat warm his own cheeks. The trembling returned to his still-hidden hands, and his mouth watered for a taste. Just one, a sample of the sweetness he was sure those dimple-sided lips held.

Dave broke the spell by turning, saying over his shoulder, “I’d better get going. Thanks for having me over. I’m sure we’ll be good together.” 

He stopped and turned again to clarify his meaning. Jake wanted nothing more than to feel the heat infusing Dave’s cheeks beneath his lips, to test them with his tongue. 

“I mean I’m sure we’ll work well together. We’ll make a good team.”

Jake didn’t disagree with either sentiment.  He managed a smile that he hoped was not predatory and followed Dave to the front door. He reached for it as Dave did, and their hands met just above the curved handle. Dave hissed and looked longingly into Jake’s eyes. Neither man said anything.  There was no need. Their eyes said they wanted much more than the brisk handshake they finally shared.

“Have a safe trip.” Jake raised a hand in farewell and watched Dave drive away.

Chapter Four

If traffic moved any more slowly, they’d be at a standstill. Dave tried not to curse as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. A last-minute meeting had changed his flight plans, and he had only hours now before he would meet Jake Pratt again. He’d been gone six days…six long, excruciating days, when the only time he managed not to pop a boner was when he was elbow-deep in plotting and planning for the screenplay of one of his earliest novels. Thankfully, those sessions had been long and brutal, and by the time he had gotten back to his hotel, he’d been wiped out. But once he woke up from crashing into the bed, nothing could keep his thoughts away from Jake. 

And nothing had stopped the erections he sported until he was forced to rub one off to relieve himself or risk spending a sleepless night hard as stone. He reached down now to his stiff cock, feeling it twitch beneath his palm. How the hell was he going to manage to talk to Jake or even be in the same room with him if he couldn’t control his body’s reaction to the mere thought of him? After the third night of Jake-induced orgasms, Dave had stopped denying his interest in him. It seemed pointless, but he was damned if he knew what to do about it. When he had called Jake to give him his address, the sound of his voice had Dave palming his cock to try and control the ache that grew as they spoke.

He didn’t know what Jake’s thoughts were on the subject of man-on-man love, and he wasn’t going to be the one to raise the question. He wasn’t sure himself how he felt about it. Just because he couldn’t stop himself from stiffening up every time he had five minutes alone didn’t mean he was comfortable with the idea of wanting a man. But he wasn’t uncomfortable, either, which didn’t help. And it wasn’t love…they barely knew each other.  It was just lust. But he was an adult; he could handle lust.

The afternoon sun pelted him through the open window. Exhaust fumes mingled with the sharp scent of tar, and heat shimmered on the hoods of the cars crawling along the road. When were they ever not repaving this highway? Dave trailed the car ahead, his foot hovering over the brake pedal. Sighing, he used the Bluetooth setting to call Jake. He would need a bit more time to…

“Jake Pratt.”

“Jake, Dave Moussa. I just got back this morning, and I’m stuck in traffic on the highway.”

“We can reschedule.”

Fuck, no. Even as he clenched his jaw in frustration with himself, Dave admitted that he wanted to see Jake again. He needed to see him. “No, it’s fine, I just need an extra couple of hours.”

“So, seven then, instead of five?”

“Sounds good.”

“See you then.  Welcome home.”

The rest of the ride was torture, pure and simple. His hard-on had become a steel pole in his slacks by the time Jake hung up. Something about the man’s voice made him want to do nasty things he had only ever thought to do with women before this. The images poured through his mind as he dragged his hand away from his aching length and searched for something to listen to that would help take his mind off his lust. Relieved that their conversation had been brief and clipped, he wound up the windows and switched on the AC. Maybe if he set it on maximum cold, it’d help his body cool down.

He sighed as he dropped his keys on the table in the front hallway of his apartment an hour and a half later. Kicking off his shoes, he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the take-out menus he had in the drawer next to the stove. He felt like Italian, and Jake was a big guy. What could he order that would fill him up? He searched the menu, and once he was satisfied with the choices, he called and placed his order. Forty-five minutes would give him just enough time to tidy up a bit, including taking out the trash he had left where he had forgotten it before he took off a week earlier. 

When the food arrived, he stowed the salad in the fridge, and put the hot food into the glass containers he used for reheating. Then he discarded the plastic bags and the boxes and took all the trash out. He picked up the shoes he had kicked off and took them and his suitcase into his bedroom.  He’d do a load of laundry when Jake left. A moment of panic stalled him in the doorway of his bedroom. What was he doing, inviting a man he was insanely attracted to into his private space for dinner? He hadn’t had anyone over in years, aside from his family, preferring to meet his friends and business associates in public places.

He looked around him. The apartment was not luxurious, though he could well afford one now, but it was comfortable, spacious, and tidy for a bachelor. Anxiety knotted his stomach. The furnishings were not designer brands, but the space felt like home. Would Jake like it? Next to his wide-open farmhouse, Dave’s apartment was almost small and crowded. He shook his head. Why should he care what Jake thought of his place? It was his, free and clear, and he liked it just the way it was.

Taking a last look around, he shrugged and went to shower. Jake would be there in a couple of hours, and he needed to be ready. Resisting the urge to linger under the heated spray, he washed himself quickly and went to see what to wear. This wasn’t a date, no matter what his stupid mouth had said a week earlier. It was another business meeting between him and his cover artist. Nothing more, nothing less. He would dress casually, but no jeans or t-shirts, and no slippers. He pulled a pair of black slacks from the hanger and slid them over his boxer briefs and then hemmed and hawed about a shirt to finish the ensemble. 

Jeez, Dave, stop with the prima donna primping, for chrissakes! Get a fucking grip! He pulled a blue shirt off the rack and slid it on, leaving the top two buttons undone.  Sliding his bare feet into comfortable black loafers, he went back into the kitchen to put the containers into the oven.  He preferred to reheat take-out food slowly, and by the time Jake arrived, everything would be nice and hot.

Remembering how Jake had welcomed them with a table set for dinner, he hurriedly made a place setting for two at the dining table he never used except when his family visited. Though he only had beer in his fridge, he figured he’d offer the option of glasses, in case Jake didn’t feel like drinking from the bottle. He had nothing to dress the table with except two tall candlesticks that his mother had given him for Christmas two years ago.  He hunted around for candles but could fine none. They looked good there, even if they were empty, so he left them.

The food should be hot enough by now. He glanced at the clock as he switched off the oven, and was just getting ready to remove them to the table when his doorbell rang. He stopped breathing for a long moment, and swallowed the lump of pure panic rising in his throat. This is just a business meeting. Jake is a business associate. Everything will go smoothly. He jerked when the bell jangled again. Fuck, he had to get a grip before he opened the door. He moved quickly to answer it, sliding a hand over his face and plastering on a tight smile before opening it.

“Hi. Sorry for the delay. I was just in the kitchen.”

Dave stepped away from the door and gestured for Jake to enter. He sniffed the air as Jake walked by him, and his cock jerked in his slacks at the scent. His favorite cologne smelled even better on Jake. Damn, they smelled the same!  It doesn’t mean anything. He shut the door on that note and went ahead of Jake, who was waiting for him to lead the way.

“This way.” He walked into the living room. “You can set your portfolio down and come through for dinner.  It’s just ready now.”

“I brought this for you.” Jake handed him the bottle of wine he held, and Dave took it with a smile. It was cold, which meant he had bought it on his way.  The thoughtful act pleased Dave.

“Great.” He didn’t have wine glasses, but he was glad he had set what he had on the table.  He reminded himself impatiently that he didn’t need to impress Jake. Jake needed to impress him.       

“Can I help?” Jake asked as Dave pulled the food from the oven.

“Sure.  Salad’s in the fridge, and beers. Thanks.”

Once they sat down, Dave relaxed a little. His hands shook as he opened the wine, but he managed to steady them to pour. 

“You must have the sight or something,” he commented. “Red wine is perfect for what we’ll be having. Please, help yourself.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs? One of my favorite things to eat.” 

Jake hummed in pleasure as he took his first mouthful, and Dave’s skin heated. He dropped his eyes from Jake’s face as he sank his fork into his own food, twirling the spaghetti around and around the fork. 

“Wow! This is pretty good, for take-out.”

“These guys have been in business for over a hundred years, and they use the recipes from the old country.”

Talk about food was better than awkward or lust-filled silence. Dave gratefully followed Jake’s lead. “You’re a foodie, aren’t you?”

Jake’s chuckle scattered goosebumps over his flesh. “I suppose you could call me that. Growing up in a chef’s house meant we got to try a lot of new dishes.”

They ate mostly in silence after that, finishing the bottle of wine between them. Jake helped with the dishes, and then they went to look over the sketches that he had brought with him. Dave sat across from him as Jake spread out the sketches on the glass coffee table for him to view.

“These are the best of the ones I did. I went with your idea on emphasizing shadows, as you’ll see. I’m curious to know which one you’ll like best from this bunch.”

Dave studied each sketch, marveling at the detail and trying not to be bowled over by the fact that Jake had taken his suggestion for one sketch and parlayed it into all the sketches. And he could see how the addition of shadows in the places they were in added a whole level of dimension to the sketch.

“I can see how it would look without the shadows,” he commented, pointing at the one he liked best. “I can even see how it might look if you changed the depth of the shadows, or put them somewhere else.” 

He looked up to find Jake’s eyes on him, a curious intensity in his gaze.  He blinked to refocus his attention on the sketch, dropping his eyes before Jake saw the hunger he was struggling to keep at bay.

“Did you do more than one sketch of each of these?” 

“Yes. And I played with the shadows like you said.”  Jake came to sit next to him, causing Dave to shudder as he looked up.  Is this the one you like best?” He reached across to pick up the one Dave had indicated.

“Yeah.”  Dave was breathless from the combined scent of just Jake and the cologne he wore, and struggled to keep his body from hardening.  Taking a deep breath, he asked, “So, which do you think works best for the cover?”

The temptation that sat next to him had him wishing he could move away without it being obvious that he was running scared. And at the same time, he wished he could reach over and pull Jake in to trace the scar on his face, or for a taste of his lips. He clenched his jaws, willing himself to concentrate on what Jake was saying in answer to his question, battling his desire, shivering as though he had the ague.  Apparently, he hadn’t done too good a job of disguising his distraction. “Are you okay?”

Fuck! Jake wasn’t supposed to notice anything wrong. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering. Are you sure you’re okay?”

No, I’m not okay. I’m fucked is what I am. “Yeah. Maybe I picked up a bug while I was away. I’ll swallow some vitamin C tablets.”

He stood up abruptly, stumbling over his feet in his haste to escape, and almost fell on the table. Jake’s strong arms grabbed him and steadied him. When the hell had Jake stood up? Dave wanted to relax against his chest, and let those brawny arms envelop him, but he couldn’t risk messing up the budding professional relationship between himself and the man he was panting after.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he growled.

He pushed away from Jake and walked off, fisting his hands at his sides until he was in the kitchen again. He filled a glass with water and drank thirstily, and then pulled two beers from the fridge. They weren’t quite done yet, and he needed something more than tap water to help him through the next few minutes. Taking deep calming breaths, he strode back into the living room and held out a beer to the man who was now standing by the window looking out.

“Thought you might like one more before you hit the road.” Way to shove him out the door, Dave.  Now he’ll think you’re an asshole.

“Thanks.” Jake took the beer, never taking his eyes off Dave, and that was exhilarating and scary at the same time. “So, what happens now?”

Dave took a long swig of beer before answering. Dutch courage and all. “We send the ones we like to the art department. They try them on the covers with different fonts to see which goes best with what. I have another look, choose the one I prefer, suggest anything else I might like to change.  Once it’s approved, you get paid. I don’t know what arrangements they’ve made with you regarding payment. That’s not up to me.”

Jake nodded. “I read your bio…David Boone. You’ve done some self-publishing. Would you be interested in using any of my work for anything else you publish on your own?”

“Sure thing.” Why wouldn’t he? It would mean staying in touch with the man whom he was afraid he wanted to get to know much better than a professional relationship would allow. Not something he could freely admit to in present, or any, company. He quieted his lust-hazed brain impatiently.  “I’ll let you know.”

Jake drained the bottle and walked away to place it on the coffee table. “Well, I guess I’d better head out.”

He began to gather up his sketches, leaving behind the two Dave liked. Dave watched him, his heart racing madly, his breath hitching in his throat. He didn’t want the evening to be over so soon. He wanted more than a couple of hours. They could talk, couldn’t they? About food, about life in the Army, about art…about anything that would make Jake stay a little longer. He hunted around in his suddenly vacant brain for something to say, but he didn’t know what to say to a guy he wanted to spend more time with.  And he was so out of practice on the dating scene. He cleared his throat.

“Wait.  I like this one as well.” Dave walked over and reached for the only sketch that had a figure in it. “I think this might be a good one, too.”  He pulled it from the pile in Jake’s hands. “Thank you for bringing the sketches. They’re great, all of them. I’ll get these to the art editor on Monday.” 

He picked up the sketches remaining on the coffee table and followed Jake to the front door.

“Thanks for dinner.” 

Jake turned to shake his hand, and something inside Dave snapped.  He couldn’t make himself let go when Jake tried to step away, holding on to Jake’s broad, blunt-tipped fingers, loving the feel of his warm, hard palm.  Dave could feel the rough calluses at the base of his fingers, and he realized suddenly that soldiers must use their hands a lot in their line of work.

“We did.  Laying wire, shifting debris, hefting gear. We did a lot with our hands.”

“Sorry. Did I say that out loud?”

Jake chuckled, chucking Dave on the chin and forcing him to look him in the eye. “Yeah, you did. Is there anything else you need to say to me?”

Goosebumps flooded Dave’s skin at the growl in Jake’s voice. He was breathless and dragged in a ragged breath. “Why do you ask that?”

“You’ve been tense all evening.  Every time I get close, you skip away, like a nervous cat. Now I’m leaving, you’re hanging on.  Seems like you’ve got something on your mind.  If you have a problem with me, spit it out.”

There it was…the elephant in the room. Only, Dave wasn’t sure Jake knew the size of the beast. 

“It’s nothing. Just an unexpected reaction. I’ll deal with it.”

“Reaction to what?” Jake stepped closer now, but Dave didn’t step back.  He stood his ground, loving the brush of Jake’s body against his with every breath they took.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s nothing. It’ll pass.” 

Maybe if he kept calling it nothing, the surge of lust when Jake put his portfolio down and stepped into Dave’s personal space would subside.  Maybe he’d be able to catch a breath when Jake demanded he look at him.

“Look me in the eye when you lie. I might believe you then.”

Look him in the eye? Dave had never heard a worse idea in his life.  He couldn’t let Jake see what he was trying to hide, even though the part of his brain not consumed by need was pointing out that Jake was clearly interested, too, else why the hell was he reaching for Dave, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in to…?

Jake’s mouth slamming over his without warning cut off his panicked thoughts, shutting off the oxygen to his brain, sending blood flooding into his groin, hardening him instantly. He knew then that his attempt at subterfuge had been useless. Unable to resist, Dave wrapped an arm around Jake to steady himself, as Jake pulled him all the way in so their bodies touched from chest to knees.

“Take it easy. Relax.” Jake trailed his lips across to Dave’s ear to whisper the suggestion, and then raised his chin to bring their lips together again.

Dave surrendered and opened his mouth to take a breath before taking what he wanted from the man holding him.  But Jake beat him to the punch, dropping his mouth again and piercing Dave’s own with his tongue.  There was nothing tentative about the kiss. It was raw, hungry, urgent, matching the emotions Dave had been battling all evening. Groans and grunts crowded the air around them as they battled for control of the kiss. 

God, he was going to explode. His body was so hot, his skin was on fire. His hands shook, his legs trembled, his heart raced wildly against Jake’s chest. He let Jake take over, allowing himself to be swept up in the flames of desire that rose around them where they stood. 

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t part of a typical business meeting agenda,” Jake teased when he lifted his head to catch a breath, “but I’m pretty damned sure I’d like it to be from here on out.” He licked the corner of Dave’s lips, and his voice sounded hoarse in Dave’s ear as he added, “At least for our business meetings.”

“Pretty sure that can be arranged.” Dave could flirt as well as the next guy, and he was getting what he wanted…more time with Jake.

And then he couldn’t talk any more.  Jake devoured him, pressing him back against the door, lining up their bodies so their cocks rode each other as they kissed. The grunts and moans filling the air could probably be heard in the hallway outside, if anyone was passing by, but Dave couldn’t muster enough brain cells to care. He relaxed completely and widened his stance, groaning in satisfaction when Jake immediately pressed in against his heavy cock, kissing him again and again as their desire grew.

A blaring shaft of sound jerked them out of the sexual haze they were losing themselves in.

“What the fuck…?” Jake dragged his mouth away from Dave’s to ask the question.

“It’s the building’s fire alarm. Someone must have triggered it with their dinner.  Or else it’s a real fire. Either way, we have to go.” 

Dave was just as breathless as Jake when he pulled away from him, as reluctant as he could see Jake was to end what had been about to become a hot and heavy scene. He grabbed his keys and handed Jake his portfolio.

“Come on.”

Glad of the commotion and confusion, because he knew no one would have any time to notice the state of his or Jake’s body, or to question their disheveled condition, Dave led Jake out of the building, and turned to ask, “Where’d you park?”

“Over there.” He turned and pointed up the block. “I guess I’d better go.  For real, this time.”

Dave nodded. What more was there to say? I wish you didn’t have to go. Come back up and let’s finish what we started. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been with a guy before. I guess you’re gay. None of those things made any sense when what he was feeling seemed to go beyond words, beyond explanations. 

 “Thanks for the sketches. You’ll hear from us as soon as the decision is made.”

Something like disappointment flashed for a second in Jake’s eyes, and then he was walking away. Dave watched him leave, his chest tight with suppressed emotion. Whatever happened next, he knew he had crossed a bridge and he couldn’t retrace his steps. He’d kissed a man, and humped him, and wanted to see where it would go. He still did…and it scared the shit out of him.

Chapter Five

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” Jake said, shaking Scott Brady’s hand. 

“Keep producing quality work like this, and we’ll do business together indefinitely.”

That was music to Jake’s ears. He smiled as he entered the elevator, and once in the parking garage, he whistled a happy tune as he walked to his car.  He hadn’t felt this stoked in far too long…except for those few brief moments when he had tasted the sweetness that was Dave Moussa six days ago.  Even now, the memory shook him. What the hell had possessed him to call the man a liar, and to take what turned out to be the hottest kiss since his affair with Mike ended all those years ago? Suddenly, he was all thumbs, and starting the engine was impossible.

He plunked his head down on his hands over the steering wheel, exhaling an exasperated breath. Nightly wet dreams about the sexy writer had done nothing to diminish his interest or desire. But no word from him had squelched any hope Jake might have been harboring that the interest was returned. So, Dave had kissed him back. And yeah, his cock had been a pole against Jake’s. But apparently the interest had died with the blaring fire alarms.

Finally managing to get the SUV started, he backed out of the spot and headed out of the city. He had never been a city boy, and the noise and bustle were still an incredible turn-off. But this was where Doug worked, and where Dave’s publisher’s offices were…and where Dave lived. Gripping the steering wheel hard, he drove past the turnoff that would take him to the writer’s neighborhood. What would he do if he showed up and Dave was home? The only things that came to mind involved sweaty nakedness and animal noises. There would be none of that, if he could help it. Dave obviously wasn't ready to admit he had a thing for guys—or is it a thing for me?—and Jake wasn’t into guys who were in the closet.

Still, even after he had eaten and cleaned up his dinner mess and was working on a new painting that he had started two weeks ago, he couldn’t get his mind off the man whose lips had been a pillowy temptation that he had failed to resist. The thought of Dave’s tongue in his mouth had him swallowing convulsively. His cellphone distracted him from the tightness building in his slacks.

“Jake Pratt.”

“Jake, it’s Emma Stone. The sketches have been approved…both of them. I’d like you to come down today, if it’s possible, so we can formalize the contract we’d like you to sign with us. And you can have a look at what we’ve done with them, see if you agree with us.”

Jake never made a faster exit, and within twenty minutes he was back on Broadway looking for parking. Once inside, he was directed to the fifth floor where he found a set of very elegant offices and a pretty receptionist who escorted him to the last office.

“Mr. Pratt is here, Ms. Stone.”

“Ah, Jake, come in, come in!” 

Emma Stone smiled widely at him, and Jake was already in before he noticed Dave sitting in one of two chairs in front of her desk, looking up at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Please, have a seat. Dave was in for some editing work so I thought it’d be nice to have you both here to review the covers.”

Jake nodded at Dave, whose lips twitched up in an attempt at a smile, but neither man spoke. Which was fine with Jake, whose throat was suddenly thick with phlegm anyway. He swallowed and sat where indicated, and the review began. Paying attention to the covers was almost more than he could manage, because Dave was wearing that cologne again, and Jake’s mind kept wandering back to their kiss. 

“So, which do you like better, Jake?”

He snapped back to attention and hesitated, embarrassed at having been caught off guard. He glanced over at Dave, and saw a gleam of amusement in his eyes. It irritated him that Dave found his predicament funny, and he returned his attention to the business at hand, eventually choosing one of the covers.

“Good, it seems we all agree,” Emma said. “That’s the one Dave and I prefer as well.” She turned to Dave with a smile. “Well, congratulations.  You’ve got your cover.”

He stood up. “Thanks, Emma.  Jake.  Good working with you.”

Well, that was a slap in the face! Thanks for the heads up. I won’t be bothering you anymore. Jake ignored him, keeping all expression off his face.  No way would he let Dave know how that comment stung. 

“You said you had some paperwork for me to sign?” He looked over at Emma, who was about to rise to her feet.

“Yes, I do, but I’d like to talk with you first, if I may?”

He subsided, itching to be gone, needing the comfort of his own space. Being dismissed like that was a wake-up call he would not ignore. He didn’t respond when Dave said goodbye and only half heard everything Emma said once the door closed behind him. She wanted a limited contract to start with, and a certain number of pieces, and if he was interested, she wanted him working exclusively on their sci-fi line to start. He agreed to it all, and gratefully stood up when she said she’d send the electronic contract for him to review before signing.

The drive home took longer than usual because it had been an hour since he turned back, and people were starting to leave for home.  Manhattan was always a nightmare to drive in, as far as Jake was concerned, and he didn’t breathe easy until he had crossed over the Amvets Memorial Bridge that straddled the Croton Reservoir. The next forty minutes brought him home to his farmhouse and his anger…and Dave’s car in his driveway.

What the hell was he doing here? Jake slammed the door on his vehicle, striding over angrily to his unwanted visitor.

“The fuck do you want?” he demanded. “I heard you loud and clear back there. Thanks for your business. Now fuck off!”

He turned away, taking the steps up to his front door two at a time.  He wasn’t inviting Dave in, and he wasn’t playing nice anymore. His breathing quickened with his anger and the curious ache that had been swelling inside him since the meeting in Emma’s office two hours before.  But he wasn’t fast enough to shut Dave out, and before he knew it, Jake was slammed up against his own front door.

“You fuck off!” Dave growled, and kissed him.

The kiss was angry, frustrated, hungry, hopeful…everything Jake was feeling. His skin was afire, as though he was being consumed by fire ants, and his chest heaved with unspent emotion. He grabbed Dave’s face with shaking hands, holding him still so he could take over the kiss and devour him. He drew Dave up to his body, hands moving to the back of his neck, and pressed his lips harder against Dave’s until he let him in, and then Jake took his tongue and showed him what he wanted, what he needed. They breathed heavily into each other’s mouths, and when Dave wrapped his arms around him, Jake groaned at how close it brought their dueling bodies.

“Better be sure you know what you’re doing,” he said, voice low, hands once again shaking as he fought to restrain himself. 

“Don’t know a damned thing.” Dave was breathless as he tore his mouth away to answer. “I just want this…kissing you that one time was nowhere near enough.”

Jake hauled him close again, slamming his mouth over Dave’s and thrusting his hips against Dave’s rod. He could feel it jerking against his own steely shaft, and it jacked up his arousal. Somewhere in the back of his lust-hazed mind, an alarm was blaring as harshly as the one that had broken up their first encounter. Jake tried to focus on it, pulling back and taking deep breaths, though he couldn’t quite release Dave, or pull his hips away.

“Why did you come here?” he grated out after a few moments, still breathless. 

Dave’s eyes were blown wide with desire, and Jake tightened his hold on the back of his neck at the evidence of the other man’s need.

“Emma said you were coming in to sign the contract and I wanted to see you to tell you I had some more work for you. Then you walked in, and I forgot why I was there.”

Jake let him go and pushed past him, his earlier resentment resurfacing, slicing through his lust with the sharp precision of a scalpel.  He dropped his portfolio on the kitchen table and pulled two beers from the fridge. He put one down on the table, opened his own, and walked to the French doors leading out to the patio.

“I got a different impression,” he said, and swallowed some beer with the emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge as hurt. Why the hell would anything this guy do hurt him? They were barely acquainted, for chrissake!  They had met a grand total of three times. Sure, they had kissed each other breathless once—no twice, now—but that meant squat if Dave could so easily dismiss him. He was always the one to break a connection.  He was always the one to let go first. How had it come to this, that he was letting some younger guy run the show with him? 

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Fuck, you confuse the shit outta me, and I don’t like it.”

Jake turned at Dave’s words, his eyes holding Dave’s own. “And yet you show up uninvited to my house, slam me up against my front door, and lay one on me. Now I’m confused.”

And he was. For so long, he had managed to keep all emotions at bay, except for the anger and guilt of his failure to die with his men. And in two weeks, he had lost even that prop that had kept the door closed on all the other emotions he couldn’t face. Like the one that made him want to take a swing at Dave and drag him in for another kiss at the same time. He couldn’t afford to be attracted to anyone, and not to someone who didn’t know what he wanted with a man. His shoulders and spine tightened with the tension spreading through his body and he forced himself to relax. He didn’t need any extra pain later.

Dave’s shoulders slumped. “So, we’re both confused. What are we gonna do about it?”

He stood there, defeated and obstinate, wanting something that Jake wasn’t sure he could give him. 

“Have you ever even been with a guy?” Jake asked, exasperated. 

The vibe he was getting from Dave was baffling as fuck. It was clear that Dave wanted him, but it wasn’t so clear whether he wanted to want him or not. Jake didn’t have time for this shit. He was going to have to figure out a way to get lust and longing back under wraps and push anger back in control when it came to Dave. He had to preserve his peace of mind. He ignored the little voice in his head that said he was shit out of luck.

“No.”

The simple response rocked Jake back on his heels, and he prowled back to stand in front of Dave, putting the beer down on the table.  He didn’t need to clean up shattered glass, and he was shaking with every imaginable emotion.

“Then what the fuck do you want with me? Huh? I’m out and proud, in case you hadn’t figured that out! I’m not shy about what I want. I have no questions. I like cocks and asses. And I’m not interested in being your gay experiment! You got that?”

He inhaled sharply, letting his brutal anger take over. “Now, unless you have something work-related to say to me, get the fuck out of my house. And don’t come back unless I ask you to.”

Dave didn’t move, and Jake got in his face, standing nose to nose, their breaths mingling, his stance threatening.  Go on, get the hell out!”

“No.”

Dave didn’t back up as he refused to follow Jake’s orders. Pigheaded, and brave as fuck!  Jesus, I’m in so much goddamn trouble! 

“Dave, you don’t want to test me right now.” Jake pushed a warning note into his voice. “Go home. Figure out your shit. Find someone else. I can’t help you.”

“I think you’re the only one who can.” 

The conviction in Dave’s words blew Jake’s mind. “What the fuck do you know, huh?” 

He couldn’t handle Dave’s certainty about him, knowing Dave wasn’t certain about himself. He didn’t want to be the one who showed Dave the way, just to lose him to some other guy. That was a road he never planned to walk again. Once was enough.

“I know you light me up like the Fourth of July,” Dave answered. “I know I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it scares the shit out of me, and pisses me off all at the same time. I know I hate feeling like this.”

Jake didn’t respond, pushing past him and heading to the front door.  He had to get Dave out of the house before he broke and gave this man more than he could handle. 

“Pretty words, Dave. But they sound like a ‘you’ problem. I’m not interested.”

He had to be cruel to be kind. There was no other way.

“Look me in the eye when you lie. Maybe I’ll believe you then.”

The words forced an unexpected chuckle from Jake’s throat as he recalled that these were the very words he had thrown at Dave just before he had kissed him the first time. Brave. As. Fuck! 

“You can’t handle me,” he said instead of dragging Dave’s lips to his, the way he wanted to. “And I don’t have time to teach you how.” Because it would take forever, and I know you’re only in this for the one-stop thrill.

“Never thought a tough soldier like you could be such a pussy.”

Jake snapped. “Fuck you, asshole!” he growled, dragging Dave up against his body, kissing him hungrily, all the passion and furious need he had been holding at bay washing over him, making his skin pop with sweat as his body heated.

Giving Dave no time to change his mind, Jake kissed him again, owning his tongue, searching out the secret places that would make the man in his arms go up in flames. Dave’s moans as he suckled him and licked his lips and trailed his tongue over his cheekbones to his ears matched his own need. Jake backed him out of the hallway into the living room, and lowered him to the floor before the fireplace. Then he possessed his mouth again before reaching down to palm his cock through his slacks.

“You wanna play chicken with me? You just crashed, buddy.”

Dave’s smile tore Jake apart. It was full of acceptance and want.

“Do your worst, big guy.”

Neither man was prepared for the savagery of Jake’s lovemaking.  Between ravenous kisses, he managed to strip Dave and plant kisses everywhere his lips could reach. His body screamed at him to just take what they both wanted, no finesse, no softness, but some deeply hidden desire for more had Jake holding back, leaving hickeys, sucking Dave off until he screamed in orgasmic bliss and collapsed beneath Jake’s expert touch. 

Breathing rapidly, his body hard as stone, Jake slid his mouth next to Dave’s ears and whispered, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

And then he rolled Dave over onto his belly and raised his hips, dragging a cushion off the sofa and propping it beneath him. Knowing he needed to show Dave what was possible between them, but aware that he couldn’t go all the way, Jake did the next best thing.

“Don’t move!” 

He surged to his feet, rushing to find something to ease his way into the man waiting for him on his living room floor. Before Dave could miss him, Jake was back and dripping baby oil in his crack over his hole, spreading it with badly shaking fingers. He hadn’t touched another man in a very long while, and the anticipation was killing him. Dave hissed when he caressed him, and when he pushed the tip of a finger against it, Dave’s whole body tensed.

“Now who’s a pussy?” Jake growled, and pressed against it again.  “Relax. I won’t hurt you.”

A few more soft caresses and Jake pushed his finger in, feeling Dave’s muscles fluttering in resistance. He waited as patiently as he could for Dave to relax, and he pushed in a bit more. The sounds emanating from the man beneath his hand made him pause to catch a breath, and palm his cock, stroking it to ease the need surging through him. 

“Ready for more?”

Dave nodded and raised his hips. Fuck! This guy was gonna kill him for sure.  He pushed in, feeling how tight Dave’s walls were around his finger as he searched slowly and patiently for the spot that he knew would make Dave forget to be afraid. He knew when he found it. Dave cried out in anguished pleasure.

“Like that, huh?” 

Satisfaction slammed into Jake at Dave’s whispered assent, and he withdrew so he could try two fingers. The way was easier this time, and when he stroked Dave’s prostate, he moaned. Impatient for more, Jake flipped him again, and reached for Dave’s cock with one hand while he sent his fingers back inside to push him higher. 

“Oh fuck! Shit!”  Dave was almost incoherent as Jake pleasured him.

Releasing his cock, Jake settled his hand over Dave’s balls, barking out a command. “Touch yourself!”

He watched greedily as Dave pumped his cock, thrusting his hips up to push it into his fist.  Jake matched Dave’s rhythm as he stroked in and out of him, and before long, Dave was coming again, howling out his completion.  Jake slid down and took Dave’s still pulsing cock into his mouth, sucking down his jizz thirstily. He unzipped his pants and released his own rod, thrusting it wildly into his fist. His orgasm slammed into him, tipping him hard over the edge as he spurted onto Dave’s belly.

Only after he lay back, his arm across his eyes, did Jake realize that he was still fully dressed. His body still trembled from the force of his orgasm, his mind was still noisy with need and dread, and the man at his side was now quiet after his second orgasm. What the hell had just happened? Jake had told him to leave. Why had they ended up on his floor, sweaty and breathless, and now awkwardly silent? Fuck! This was just what he hadn’t wanted. He closed his eyes, wishing he could recall everything he had just done, not because he hadn’t liked it, but because he had liked it way too much. And it had obviously been too much for Dave. He snapped them back open, sitting up at the rustling sound near him.

Dave had stood up, his ass muscled and lush, his cock impressive even deflated, and was gathering his clothes. Jake couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. Dave didn’t look at Jake as he dressed, and only when he had all his clothes on again did he speak into the heavy silence.

“I have to go.” 

Jake had no words to offer in response. He was still reeling from his first sexual encounter with another human being in more than two years.  And it had been more satisfying than he had imagined. He wanted to do it again, and more. But it had left a gaping abyss yawning between him and the man now finally facing him. He stood up, needing to be on even footing with the man who was about to crush him.

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“That…shouldn’t have happened.”

You’re telling me.

“Maybe I need to find a different artist to work with as well. We don’t seem to be good for each other.”

Speak for yourself, buddy. 

Dave huffed out a breath, but Jake forestalled him. This time, Dave had to go.

“Yeah…maybe you do.” 

He walked back to his front door, zipping himself up as he went, and opened it. Making sure to keep his expression blank, he waited until Dave walked through. Then he closed it, not wanting to see where Dave went, or what he did. He himself was on the verge of collapse, and he slid down to the floor, his legs suddenly unable to support him. So much for making new friends. He had fucked up and been stupid enough to think he might have found someone he could make a real connection with. Not only had he blown any chance he might have had with Dave, but chances were, he had also lost a client. And now the crushing anger and guilt that he had been carrying around for two years were joined by overwhelming despair.

Chapter Six

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as Dave stepped out of the cab. A quick dash into the building meant he didn’t need to open his umbrella, but it didn’t stop him from getting wet enough to be uncomfortable.  Brushing water from his hair and clothes, he walked into the elevator and emerged on the fifth floor, smiling at the receptionist on his way to Emma’s office. The proofs for the novel were ready for his review, and he had needed to get away from his apartment and out of his head, so he happily agreed to come in and work from the office for a while. He’d do the rest at home, but there was little time to dawdle, and he and the freelance proofreader they hired for his novel could work seamlessly together anywhere. He was confident that there was very little left to do before printing, but it always paid to be careful.

The door to Emma’s office swung open and Dave froze. Jake stepped out, followed closely by Emma, his hand outstretched. He was smiling, and Dave shuddered at the sight of the upward curve of his lips, the flash of his pearly whites, the tattoo that he could glimpse peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. Jake’s jeans fit him like a glove, making Dave’s mouth water as he imagined what it might have looked like had he managed not to panic and run away from Jake and any possibility of a relationship of any sort with him two days ago. 

He stepped into a cubicle to his right, glad it was empty, and waited for the sound of Jake’s footsteps to disappear. Then he waited some more until the ding of the elevator told him Jake was gone before he emerged and walked the rest of the way to Emma’s office, feeling like the biggest idiot, and hoping no one had seen that ridiculous byplay. 

“Would you like to work in here?” Emma asked after greeting him.

“If it would be okay with you, yes.” 

She put the manuscript on the work table in front of him as it would appear in final printing and he set to work. He could almost recite the words by heart, a testament to how often he had gone over it in recent weeks. He hoped the work would distract him from the bitter recriminations that had plagued him for the last two days. But seeing Jake had made that difficult at best, and eventually he gave it up, faking a forgotten appointment as his reason for leaving. Technically, he didn’t need to be there to review the proofs, anyway.

What the hell was he going to do about the man who had completely taken over his thoughts by day and his dreams at night? He’d never been so thoroughly loved before in his life. The things Jake Pratt knew how to do to a body…and Dave knew they hadn’t done everything they could have done to each other. The thought of all he had missed out on with Jake made his throat ache. He wished he had someone he could ask about what he was feeling, and what it meant to be so wound up by the mere thought of a man he hadn’t met in the flesh but three times. 

More memories assailed him as rushed into the Uber that pulled up at the curb for him. The scene played out on rewind in his head as the cab crawled through traffic. Jake kissing him, sucking on his neck, nipping his nipples. Jake sending a probing finger up his ass to that spot Dave hadn’t known existed as a pleasure point till Jake made him scream and cum shot out of his dick. Jake sucking down his cum greedily, all the while staring into his eyes.

He adjusted himself and turned his eyes out to the wet day, watching as people trudged through the downpour and vehicles splashed heedlessly through large puddles made by the pouring rain. Nothing could keep his mind from Jake. The water that the wipers of the windshield fought tirelessly to clear reminded him of the jets of semen that Jake had pumped onto his belly, coating his skin in warm, wet passion. He wished he had let himself touch it, feel the silk of it before he wiped it away with his underwear.  Driving home commando had been an exercise in supreme sexual torture, and by the time he had walked into his apartment, he had been hard as stone again and ready for Jake.

Jake…he had to forget him, unless he was going to pursue him. And how would he do that when he had never even felt the urge to look twice at a hot guy before? If this was what it meant to be gay, he was in a world of trouble, because he had no roadmap for how to seduce a man. And what would he tell his mother?  She wanted grandkids, and a daughter-in-law, not another son. What would his dad have thought about him wanting to fuck Jake Pratt into next week, to be with him until he could figure out whether it was just sex or whether something more could come of it?

No answers came to him as the cab pulled up outside his apartment building. He paid mindlessly and rushed into the building, narrowly missing his neighbor, who leered at him, his eyes roaming boldly up and down Dave’s body. The look made Dave shiver, but not in the same way that Jake’s gaze did, and he glared at the man, who only smirked at him as he walked by with his dog. In his apartment, he could see why the guy was staring lustfully. His clothes stuck to his skin, his slacks making no secret of his aroused state, his erection straining the zipper. He stripped hastily, shivering in the cold air of the apartment, and dumped the clothes in the washer. Dressed in dry shorts and a muscle vest, he made himself coffee and sat with the hot brew at his kitchen table looking out at the storm-tossed grounds.

He almost didn’t hear his cell phone ring. 

“Yeah.”

“Is that any way to answer your phone, Dave?”

Cindy sounded amused rather than annoyed, and Dave forced a laugh.  “Sorry. Was just preoccupied. What’s up, Sis?”

“We need a babysitter for this weekend. Can you help us out? It’s our wedding anniversary this Saturday, and Dan managed to exchange weekends with another nurse on his floor. We haven’t had a holiday together since the kids were small. I know this is presumptuous of me, Dave, and you know I wouldn’t…”

Dave cut her off. What did he care if his life was just writing and babysitting his sister’s kids? It wasn’t like he had a man of his own…the unbidden thought startled him out of his stupor, and he hastened to agree.

“It’s okay, Cindy. You know I don’t mind. I can work anywhere. Are you gonna bring them here, or do I come to you?”

“Can we bring them there? You have a pool and a basketball court.  They’ll be occupied between all that and their birthday gifts. And there’s always your big-screen TV.”

Dave chuckled, genuinely amused. “Okay, Sis. When should I expect them?”

“Friday morning okay? Dan had Friday off originally, so this gives us three days and two nights together.”

“Friday morning’s fine. I’ll make sure to stock up on food.”

“I’ll make dinner for one night. You can spoil them with pizza the other night.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Thanks, Dave. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing but love, Sis.”

He was unaware that he had sighed until Cindy asked, “Why the heavy sigh?  Problems in your love life?”

Another sigh. Love life? If only. “I wish,” he said. “Nothing…just feeling gray, like the afternoon.”

“You do know you’re a hot guy, don’t you, Dave? And you could have anyone you choose?”

Dave sputtered. “My sister is the last person I expect to be telling me I’m hot!” he protested. “Does Dan even know you’re looking at other men?” 

Better to distract her before he said something he shouldn’t, like he knew a hot guy who put him in the shade. 

“You’re not other men. You’re my brother; you don’t count. I’m allowed to look all I want. Someone has to get you out of your head, and it may as well be me, seeing as I don’t care how hot you are.”

“Thanks for worrying about me, even though I don’t count as a man,” he said sarcastically, “but I’m fine. Now I gotta run. Work calls.”

Yeah, run away, Davey boy. Cindy won’t get any secrets from you today. 

“You’re hiding something,” she announced, and Dave’s self-congratulation stuttered to a halt in his head.

He tried to laugh it off. “What could I possibly be hiding?”

“You’ve met someone.”

“I’ve met a lot of people. Just the other day I met a cool artist. I told you about him, remember? Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me I’ve got a thing for him.”

What the fuck?  Shut up!  Shut the hell up, Dave! 

“So? What if he were the one you had a crush on? Do you think I’d care?  D’you think anyone in the family would care?  We just want you to be happy, Dave, and we know you’re not, despite all the money you’re making.”

Dave tried desperately to find his voice, to say something into the silence stretching over the wires. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his sister. How the hell had this happened? He tried to respond, and failed. He swallowed and tried again.

“Don’t be an idiot, Cindy!  Have you ever seen me with a guy?”

“No. But again, so what? You could be bi, and just not know it.” She paused, and Dave waited like a condemned man for anything else she might add. “Would it bother you to find out you like guys, too?”

It only bothers me that the one I like probably thinks I’m an asshole.  “No…I dunno, maybe.” He dragged a hand through his damp hair. “Look, why are we even talking about this? Nothing’s happening. There is no one, male or female, okay?” 

By the end of the lie, he was almost shouting. A dead giveaway. He should have known better than to start this whole conversation.

“Dave, you’re an intelligent guy. You’re a writer, for crying out loud!  How can you be so narrow-minded? What if the person who would make you happy is some guy? Would you really shut him down because you’re scared to come out as bi? Are you that shallow?”

His sister’s questions battered him, like sharp rocks slung against his soul. He probably had been this way his whole life, and now, when it mattered, he was chickening out. Fuck, he was so screwed!

“Look, I’m sorry, Dave. I didn’t mean to upset you. But will you please think about what I’ve said? Please? Don’t shut down if it’s a guy, okay? And when you’re ready to talk to me, I’m here. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. If it’s a guy, just don’t fuck it up. Give it a chance. Promise me!”

He and Cindy had always been the closest, given that they were only fifteen months apart. She could read him like a book. He knew there was no use denying any of the things she had said, and he knew she wouldn’t let it go until she was satisfied that he would do the right thing. But what was the right thing now, with Jake? He wished he knew.

“I promise.” 

After the call, he willed himself to forget about Jake until the review of his novel was complete. It seemed easier to do, and he wondered, when he stopped to wolf down pizza and beer, whether his conversation with Cindy was the reason. She always had a way of helping him see things more clearly, and he always functioned better when things were clear.

By the time Friday rolled around, he had finished the review and sent it back for printing, and was in discussion about the next series. That conversation had begun months earlier, and he was stoked to be working on it. He’d been given a couple of weeks to work up the outline for the first book in the series, and they were already talking cover art. His stomach fluttered when Jake’s name cropped up, but thankfully he wasn’t required to make any response.

Benny and Kayla were ecstatic when their parents dropped them off on Friday morning. He took them to the zoo, and after for Italian ices at his favorite treat shop. Dinner that night was their mother’s shepherd’s pie, washed down with apple juice for them, and wine for him. Saturday he had to work, but he took his laptop down to the pool and watched them play and swim, joining them for about half an hour before getting back to work. Then he took them out his favorite pizzeria and they stuffed themselves, and took home more Italian ices for a snack before bed. By the time their parents arrived to pick them up on Sunday, Dave had been too busy to be tormented by thoughts of Jake.

Cindy stayed back for a moment while Dan and the kids went down to the car.

“Were they good?’ she asked. 

“Are they ever not?” he answered, smirking. “What do you really want to know, Cindy? Spit it out.”

“I want to know who has you so tied up in knots!”

“It’s…complicated.” He pulled the door open. “I can’t talk about it yet, Sis. Just let me figure things out first before you come demanding answers I don’t have, okay?”

“Love shouldn’t be complicated, Dave,” she said, cupping his cheek in her small hand. 

“Who said anything about love?” Nobody falls in love after three meetings. It’s lust…it’ll pass. 

“Okay, so maybe not love. But attraction? A crush? Why is that complicated?”

“Because…it just is.” He pulled her hand away from his face and used it to lead her to his door. “Go on. Don’t keep Dan waiting.”

“Remember your promise, Dave. I’m holding you to it.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He waved to her as she stepped into the elevator.

The next two weeks went by without incident, and Dave worked to finish the outline for the first story in the new series, spending hours doing research, losing himself in the intricacies of astrophysics for lay people. It was the second weekend again before his peace was disturbed, and only because his editor wanted to know how far along he was. They talked black holes for a while and quantum singularities, debating the introduction of characters and plot points. Then she said she was having a barbecue at her place in the country the next day to celebrate the book launch. 

“I’d like you to be there, if you’re not too caught up in the writing.”

“Sure. I’d love to come. Who else will be there?” If Jake is going to be there, I’ll need to have my game face on.

“The usual suspects,” she said. “Bring wine. You always bring the best.”

Dave laughed. “Will do. Time?”

“Lunch time.”

“Okay.  See you then.”

Was Jake considered part of the team now? He’d have to go prepared to see him. And he’d have to go knowing how he would handle that. The fact of the matter was that he wanted Jake, but for more than just the sex. Though the heat of their only encounter still burned him, there was something about the ex-soldier that drew Dave to him. It was almost as though they were kindred spirits. But what did he have in common with a guy who had seen action on foreign soil? A guy who had been injured in the line of duty? He didn’t even know what Jake’s injury was! He felt inadequate to the task of befriending a man who was not only years older than he was, but lifetimes ahead in experience.  And it didn’t help that he had been a jerk to Jake the last time they met.

By Saturday, Dave was a bundle of nerves. He felt like he imagined his sisters used to feel when they were going out on their first dates with some guy they thought no one in the family would approve of.  He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure his family would all be on board if he decided to give Jake a try, and he had no idea how that would pan out at work, or with his few friends. But hadn’t he decided, a month ago, that he would not let anyone tell him how to live his life anymore, or influence his choices? He was over thirty for fuck's sake! His life was his to live, and no one else’s. He needed to man up and get his act together if he wanted to stand more than a snowball's chance in hell of getting Jake.

The skinny black tie he had chosen to wear to the barbecue was choking him by the time he drove around to the back where the sign said everyone should go to park. There were a few other cars there, as well as a couple of motorcycles, but Dave didn’t see Jake’s SUV. Torn between disappointment and relief, he got out, passed his hand over the button-down green shirt and black slacks, and smoothed his tie.  Collecting the wine he had brought with him, he squared his shoulders and walked around to where the sounds of merriment told him the party was already in full swing. 

He had known arriving late was a risky move, if Jake were there to see him.  But since he wasn’t there, Dave relaxed, fighting the deflated feelings that crept up on him. Then he rounded the corner and almost bumped into him. Saving the wine bottles he carried at the last moment, he steadied himself, noting that Jake stood stiffly away from him, not helping him in any way to regain his balance. Fair enough…he clearly didn’t want to have any more physical contact with Dave then he had to. 

“Sorry.” 

Dave mumbled his apology, his gut churning with anger, anguish, and frustration, and passed by Jake to set the bottles of wine on the beverage table. Controlling his emotions was going to be a challenge unless he could avoid Jake for the rest of the afternoon. He wasn’t going to make a bigger fool of himself for some guy who despised him. It wasn’t worth it. This was a failed experiment, one he wasn’t anxious to repeat, unless it was with the man who it seemed wanted nothing to do with him.

He managed to fake his way through the eating and drinking, made small talk with others, and watched with deep envy as everyone else seemed to stand where he wanted to stand, in Jake’s space, talking and laughing with him. To Dave’s jealous eyes, Jake was in his element, basking in the glow of acceptance by men and women alike, and not bothered by the misgivings that plagued him. Jake had clearly moved on. He watched as a man he had only met in passing put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, speaking quietly into his ear. The smile that flashed on Jake’s face was warm and friendly, and when they shook hands, Dave swallowed the surge of impotent rage that rose like bile in his throat.

Turning away, he walked into the house, seeking a quiet space to bring himself back under control. He and Jake were nothing to each other. They barely knew each other. They hadn’t even said anything to make the storm raging in his blood acceptable. Jake was not his. He paced in the kitchen, pulling his riotous emotions back inside him, drawing air deep into his lungs to settle himself before returning to make his excuses and leave. He refused to succumb to misplaced anger or jealousy. He wasn’t a teenager with his first hard crush. 

Time to buck up. Chalk it up to experience, move on. He took one more bracing breath and went to say his goodbyes. A family engagement was his excuse, and he felt no shame at the lie. The walk back to his car was like walking the plank before falling into a depthless ocean of regret.

Chapter Seven

Dave had disappeared. Where the fuck was he? Moving smoothly through the others, he sighted him just as Dave walked out of sight toward the parking area. Jake followed. He had a few things to say to Dave that didn’t require an audience. He would find other clients, but before he dropped this one, he’d clear the air between them. He had never been one to avoid confrontation, and he needed to be who he was, even when it hurt in ways he couldn’t explain.

“At some point, you have to stop running.”

Jake kept his tone neutral. He didn't want to antagonize Dave, and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to keep fighting with him. Civility seemed the best option, especially as it seemed like they were likely to move in the same circles for the foreseeable future. Dave kept walking, and Jake increased his stride so that they arrived at the driver side door at the same time.

“What’s got you so spooked?” Maybe if he understood what was going on in Dave’s head he could at least defuse the tension between them.

“Who says I’m spooked?”

Jake felt impatience crawl over him like a too-tight second skin about to be shed. “Why the fuck don’t you just stop with the lies? Huh? We both know you’re running scared. And we both know it’s because of me.  So, how about you try the truth this time?”

He couldn’t help the growl in his voice. It was mostly frustrated anger with a small side of want. He wanted the man standing before him to be something more than a client and a failed hook-up. In the two weeks since they’d last met, he had admitted as much to himself, though he couldn’t account for it, and had stopped trying. He heard the mighty sigh Dave heaved before he answered him, and prepared for the worst.

“I can’t talk about this here.” Not surprising, coming from a man in denial. “Why don’t we meet somewhere neutral for coffee? There’s a Starbucks near the publishing house on Broadway.  Six o’clock?”

“Fine.” Jake stepped away and watched him leave, turning his wrist to check the time. He had a little over an hour. He turned back to make his own farewells and rode out on the vintage Harley he rarely used. The ride into the city was less busy at this time of day on a Saturday, and as he cruised, Jake let the wind and the sounds of the open road wash over him and soothe his soul. 

Thank fuck there was a parking spot across from the Starbucks. He locked his bike and strode across the street. Dave was waiting for him, and when Jake reached him, he turned away and went into the shop. Jake gave his order and then followed, sitting across from Dave in a booth at the back.  The too-long silence told him he’d have to go first.

“Look, I don’t know what exactly it is you’re looking for, or not, with me, but I can tell you, you won’t find it by avoiding the issue. I’m a very private kinda guy. I don’t let people in. Yet somehow, you’ve managed to get to where no one else has been in a very long time. I’d like to think I’m not the only one in that position.”

The barista called his name, and Jake went to get his drink, sipping it as he sat back down. This time, he waited. He had started the conversation.  Time for Dave to say his piece.

“We’re different, you and I,” Dave began. “I’ve been content to write, make some money, keep my family happy. It’s been a long while since I thought I’d care enough to think about anyone again. And I wasn’t prepared for you.”

“Why do you need to be prepared?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dave hissed out in an angry tone, his voice low.  “You don’t spend your whole life thinking you’re one thing and discover you might be another without losing it just a little.”

Jake studied the man sitting with his hands wrapped around a tall coffee mug. He watched as Dave closed himself in, and he swallowed the urge to reach out and touch him. He couldn’t fight Dave’s battles for him.  Best to keep listening. There had to be more to this confession or admission or whatever the hell it was.

“A month ago, I didn’t even know you existed,” Dave continued.  “And then there you were, and I don’t know what to make of you.”

Jake smiled. For the first time in a month, the emotions he had been fighting didn’t feel like they were drowning him. His whole body was flooded with something that felt almost like relief…a bone-deep heat that soothed rather than scorched him.

“I’m just Jake, a guy like you, an artist.” He didn’t need hero worship from Dave.  He was no hero.

“We both know you’re a lot more than that.” Seemed Dave disagreed with his assessment of himself. “The point is, I was never one for guys as more than buddies. So, what the hell am I supposed to do with you? With…this?” He gestured between them. “Don’t tell me it’s never come up before.”

If it weren’t so serious, it’d be funny. “You mean a straight guy having a hard-on for me?”  At Dave’s sharp look, Jake sobered.  “It’s never come to this. Which leads me to believe you’re not as straight as you’d like to be.”

“You don’t know shit about me!” Dave snapped harshly. “Fuck you!”

“We tried that, remember?  Didn’t seem to work for you.” 

The more Dave sputtered, the more Jake relaxed. He sipped his coffee and waited for the next volley in the game. 

“How do you know what works for me?”

“I don’t. I’m just guessing here, but all the evidence seems to point in the direction of the big “F.”  Including the fact that you haven’t denied it.”

Fuck if he was going to keep protecting Dave from himself. Someone had to rip the bandage off. Better him than some random Joe who didn’t give a damn like Jake did. Whatever else was going to happen, he didn’t want to hurt Dave. Because god dammit, despite his best efforts not to, he cared what happened to him

“Must be nice to be so certain of everything.” Bitterness edged Dave’s voice, and something hard crumbled inside Jake’s chest. 

“Who said anything about being certain? Only death and taxes are certain.” He took another swig of his coffee. “Look, how about we start with what happened the last time we saw each other. Tell me why you took off.  Help me understand.”

Dave sighed and leaned back, his eyes hooded. “The first and only serious relationship I had was with a girl named Jenny in college. Smart, funny, beautiful…I loved her. I thought she loved me. She bowled me over completely. It didn’t work out, obviously, because she found someone she was really into, and frankly, I didn’t think I deserved a girl like her, so I wasn’t surprised when she dumped me. I wasn’t like you…a jock, buff, tough, sure of himself. I was just the nerdy kid who liked to write and was good at it.”

He reached for his cup and took a long swallow. “I never for one second, in all the years since she left me, thought there was anything else to know about who I was sexually. Then I walked into your house, and the whole fucking universe tilted. And two weeks ago, it tipped me over the edge. That’s why.”

No wonder he’s a writer. Even when he’s just describing his feelings, he sounds like some bestselling novel. Fuck, that’s hot!

“So, what am I…a black hole?” A little humor couldn’t hurt, but the look of horror on Dave’s face made Jake wish he hadn’t said anything.

“No! Oh god, no! I don’t mean to say…” stopped, then started again.  “I wish I could lose myself in the feelings you wake up inside me. I wish…”

“What you need is to find yourself in those feelings. It’s not a loss to know who you are. It’s a gain.”

Dave finally looked Jake in the eyes, and the blast from those golden orbs seared him. His eyes were bright with emotion as he answered.

“Two weeks ago, you told me my feelings were my problem, not yours.  Why do you care now?”

How do you tell a guy you’re falling for that you’re as broken as he is, just in a different way? Where do you start? Jake took another calming swallow of coffee and put the cup down, clasping his hands before him on the table. Start with the history, like he did.

“I’ve always known, since I first started being interested in sex, that I liked guys. That wasn’t the issue. And it wasn’t an issue either when I fell for the man who decided, after we’d been seeing each other for almost a year, that he couldn’t be with me. Doesn’t matter why, except that he was letting his fear decide our future. I was deployed at the time, so it hit me extra hard, because I couldn’t see him face to face to try and change his mind. So, I buried myself in work, in fighting, in being the best damned soldier I could be. My parents didn’t know about the breakup until after I was discharged.  No one knew. If he could dismiss me, I could dismiss him.”

He looked away, out the window to the street, then looked back at Dave. “Then a little over two years ago, I lost my team in a surprise attack.  I’ve been living with the guilt of that and anger over my busted-up body ever since. So, when you showed up at my house a month ago, I had been emotionally and physically messed up for a long time. I wasn’t prepared for you, either. But there you were, calling to me. I had a choice…I still do. I could walk away, dismiss the feelings as just lust, ignore the rest of what was happening to me, and find a way forward. Or I could let you in and see what developed.”

He sighed heavily. “When you ran off two weeks ago, everything I knew about a man who’s afraid to own his feelings came rushing back. I’ve spent the last five years making sure no one has the chance to do that to me again.”

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“That depends. Are you ready to stop avoiding this, to face it head on?”

Jake watched Dave think. His skin felt clammy with fear that he had bared his soul to a guy who was going to destroy what little peace of mind he was finally beginning to feel. He relaxed his clenched fists, and breathed slowly, willing himself to remain calm.

“Yes.”

Relief pricked his skin like sharp needles. “Okay. I have a few appointments next week, most of them out of town. But I’ll be back in the city on Monday morning. Want to meet up then? Maybe we can have lunch together?”

“Sure. Tell me where you’re going and I’ll meet you there. Then we can decide on a lunch spot after.”

“Grab your coffee and I’ll show you.” Jake stood up immediately and they walked out together. “Where’s your ride?”

“I took the subway.”

“Ever been on a bike?”

“A time or two. Why?”

“I’ll take you home.”

Jake braced himself to feel Dave at his back and shuddered at the touch of his body, though Dave didn’t cling. Though he had no clear idea what he would do after Monday, he knew he had to do this now.  He wasn’t one for delaying the inevitable, and Dave would have to know sooner rather than later, if they were to get anywhere. He rode into the lower part of the city and they stopped before a dry cleaner’s shop. Next to it was the door to an unmarked establishment.

“This is where I’ll be.” Jake pointed to the unmarked door. “I’m having a fitting done for a waterproof limb.”

He turned to look Dave in the eye and waited for the question.

“Which limb?” The shock on Dave’s face warred with the admiration in his eyes. 

“My right leg, below the knee.” 

He held Dave’s gaze a moment longer, and when Dave nodded dumbly and settled against his back again, Jake let the warmth from his body soak into his back as he moved off again. He relished the feeling of closeness, though Dave held himself stiffly. Baby steps. He had just dropped a bombshell on the guy, who was already having to come to terms with his feelings for Jake.  A missing limb might be the last straw. At least he hadn’t ended the ride there.

When they got to his place, Jake didn't accept Dave’s invitation to go in with him, though it took everything in him to refuse. He wanted to give them both time to think, and he wanted Dave to be sure he had made the right decision. And if you’re gonna be honest, you want him to miss you just a little bit.

“See you Monday,” he said instead, when Dave swung himself off the Harley. 

Later, as he slipped his prosthetic off before bed, he wondered how Dave would react to seeing him with half a leg. Memories of his own disbelief and terror washed over him…the shock of seeing nothing below the knee, the empty feel on the right side of his body, the times when he would wake up sweating in pain from a leg that wasn’t there. Worrying about it wouldn’t make things any easier for Dave, if the time ever came for the final revelation.  It sure as hell hadn't worked for Jake.

Setting the artificial limb aside, he slid into bed, lying awake for far too long thinking about how his life would change if he and Dave made a go of things. Mike had been around when he was whole, and on active duty. They saw each other far less than was probably healthy, especially for a couple who had to withstand so much grief for their sexual orientation.  How would Dave, who didn’t know what he was, fare when the haters came out of the woodwork? Would he have the support of his family? At least Jake’s parents would welcome Dave with open arms. They’d be glad that Jake was “making progress,” as they liked to call it every time he made a step back into the world. Finally forcing himself to stop thinking, he fell into a troubled sleep and woke before the birds.

Halfway through Sunday, as he was working with a new set of nature shots for a magazine, his cell phone rang. He picked it up without checking the caller ID.

“Jake Pratt.”

“Hey. What time should I be there tomorrow?”

The husky sound of Dave’s voice snaked its way down inside to where Jake’s desires lived and woke them to startled life. He steadied his hand on the phone and cleared his throat.

“Appointment’s at 9:00. You can get there about 11:00.”

“I’ll be there at 9:00.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I’ll be there at 9:00. Unless you have some compelling reason for me not to be.”

The hard note in his voice, the stubborn determination to have his way, turned Jake on even more. Brave. As. Fuck.

“It’s your time.”

“Yeah, it is.  See you.”

Jake smiled as he went back to work. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Maybe this time, he’d met his equal. He couldn’t wait to find out.

Dave was waiting for him when he walked over from the parking garage. He stood nonchalantly by the door, and when he saw Jake, his eyes lit up, even though he didn’t smile. Something lit up inside Jake at the sight, and he couldn’t restrain his own smile. 

“Morning. You’re eager.”

“I’m curious. You knew I would be.”

“Hope you can handle the shock.”

“I’m a big boy. I’ll deal.”

Famous last words. “We’ll see how well in a few minutes.”

Jake led the way into the offices where he was greeted by the young man responsible for making his prosthetic. He made quick introductions and then was led back to the room where his new leg was waiting to be fitted.  Dave sat quietly while Jake removed his limb and set it aside. Jake could feel his eyes on the stub and wondered that he wasn’t more uncomfortable with Dave’s invasion of his privacy. Then he forgot to think about anything except the fitting. By the time he was allowed to put his old leg back on, he was ready to be done for the day. He had walked, run, hopped, skipped, jumped, climbed stairs, turned, sat down, and stood up in it. A few more adjustments needed to be made, and one more fitting, which he hoped would be his last.

“Thanks, Nick.” He shook his prosthetist’s hand and walked with Dave out into the midmorning sunshine.

“Is there somewhere specific you want to go for lunch?”

Jake heard intention in Dave’s question, and he turned to look at him sharply.  “No. Why?  Do you have some place in mind?”

“Yes. My place. My mother sent over dinner for me yesterday, and as usual, it was way too much for one person. If you don’t mind leftovers for lunch, we can eat there.”

“Did you take the train again?”

Dave smiled, and Jake chuckled. “Why do you even have a car when you live in the city?”

“The people I care about don’t, and it’s cheaper to drive to visit them.”

Does that include me? They walked to the parking garage, and Jake handed in his ticket and paid the bill. Instead of voicing the question, he said, “Tell me about the people you care about.”

“My mom lives in the house we grew up in. There are five of us kids.  I’m the only boy, and the firstborn. She wants grandkids.”

The attendant drove the SUV up to where they were, and Jake drove off before asking, “None of your sisters have kids?”

“Yes, but they won’t carry on the family name.”

Something in his voice made Jake glance at him. Clearly, this was a part of the torment he was facing. “Many same sex couples adopt children,” he reminded him.

“But it’s not the same, is it? They don’t have their adoptive parents’ genes.”

“Are you looking to have kids soon?”

“Haven’t really thought much about it…until recently.”

Jake heard the hesitation and wondered about it. He himself wanted kids in some future where he wasn’t as broken as he had been feeling until a month ago. He looked over at his companion again as realization hit him…he’d been so messed up over Dave that he hadn’t felt like a total fuck-up in anything else for the first time in two years. Failing to get the guy…definitely. Failing to be alive, to live fully?  Not so much anymore.

Thank you, Dave. And it looked like his luck was about to turn there, too. He gripped the steering wheel with a renewed sense of purpose. He could do this. He could survive another person in his space, in his head… maybe even in his heart.

Chapter Eight

The shock of seeing Jake's stump, coupled with awe at his prowess on the artificial leg and a deep respect and admiration for who Jake was turning out to be, still had Dave reeling. His heart had almost popped out of his chest when Jake had slipped off the prosthetic, and something like pain had seared him as he watched Jake massage the stump. How the hell had he not noticed? Was Jake that good at disguising his limp? Did he limp? How hard did he have to work not to limp?

Dave cast an eye over Jake as he walked ahead of him into the foyer of his apartment. There was no sign of anything wrong. Nothing gave away the missing limb. He stopped himself from staring with great effort.

"Come through. Have a seat. I'll go ahead and warm up lunch."

"Do you mind if I hang out in the kitchen?"

"No." Dave led the way back to the kitchen, and watched as Jake pulled himself up onto the bar stool at the island. The fluid movement astonished Dave, who couldn't resist saying, "You're pretty good at this, aren't you?"

"Best way I could think of to keep myself from going crazy was to get back in shape."

Dave got the food out of the fridge and set it in the cold wall oven, setting the temperature to start it. By the time the oven was hot enough, the food would have begun to warm, and they'd have less time to wait. He wanted to spend time with Jake, but his need went beyond that. He wanted to feel Jake's hard body pressed up against his own, to feel the rapid beating of Jake's heart. He wanted to feel Jake's hot breaths on his neck. He wanted Jake to kiss him and wrap his arms around him. He wanted more than kisses. All the desires he thought he had conquered years ago had come rushing back the first time he saw Jake, and now they were overwhelming him in a tidal wave of feelings he didn’t know what to do with.

"Beer?" He had to distract himself from that need before he did something stupid. He and Jake hadn't managed to make it through any alone time together without problems so far, and he didn't want to fuck this up.

Jake didn't answer but looked at him, and the knowledge in his eyes heated Dave from the inside.

"Beer?" He repeated the question, and Jake's smile twisted him in knots. “What?"

"You gotta learn to relax, Dave. Trust your gut. Take what you want and don't apologize for wanting it."

Easy for you to say, big guy. You're not the one wanting to jump your bones and not even knowing how that works.  

"I can see the wheels turning in your head. It's written all over your face." Jake's amusement irritated him, but the sound of his voice made Dave's body tighten.  

"I have a poker face." Christ! What a ridiculous thing to say!

Jake chuckled. "Not today, you don't. But you do keep trying, don't you?  Give it up already."

A reluctant grin loosened Dave’s features as he acknowledged that Jake was right.  

"You should do that more often."

Dave turned puzzled eyes to Jake. "Do what?"

"Smile. You light up when you do." He paused, as if considering, then added, "So fucking hot!"

The blush heated Dave's cheeks and he turned away to check on the food in the oven. He had barely closed the oven door when he felt Jake behind him.

"Still running scared, eh?" Jake’s hands cupped his shoulder, and Dave turned to face him.

“Not sure I’d call what I’m feeling ‘scared.’ More like ‘what the hell am I even doing?’ I have no frame of reference for any of this. I was never interested in my gay friends’ love lives. They were my friends, they had lovers, it was cool.”

“D’you think we love differently from other people?” When Dave cut his eye at him, Jake laughed. “Aside from that. Do you think we’re different in how we feel and how we show it?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. I messed up the first two times. I don’t wanna mess up again.”

The feel of Jake’s hands cupping his cheeks soothed the panic beginning to build inside him.

“How about this? Let’s plan some alone time to get to know each other better. To build trust. Familiarity. We’ll do what feels right, and nothing more. When the time is right, we’ll take the next step. No rush. We have all the time in the world.”

Dave had no answer for that, but he didn’t deny himself the kiss he stole, leaving his soft thank you on Jake’s lips. Lunch was easy after that.  He restrained his childish curiosity about Jake’s leg because it was so clearly not an issue for Jake. Instead, they talked about the virtues of growing up an only child versus being the first and only boy of five children. They talked about music, food, women—Dave raised a brow when Jake said he thought Mariska Hargitay was attractive—and Jake laughed at his shock.

“What?  You think only straight guys can appreciate female beauty?  I may not want to be with a woman, but I can still see why other guys would.  I’m gay, not blind.”

Jake would be away on business until Friday, and they decided to wait until he got back to make plans for their first official date. Then he was cupping Dave’s face again and lowering his lips.

“I had a good time. The food was good, the company was better.  This,” he brushed Dave’s lips with his own, “is the best of all.” 

He licked his way across Dave’s lips, and when he opened them to draw air into his starving lungs, Jake swept in and kissed him deeply. Once.  And then he drew away.

“Have a great week. I’ll see myself out.”

Between Monday and Friday, Dave worked on the first story in the new series.  He lost himself in the drama of the opening scenes, forgetting to eat, ignoring his cell phone, barely remembering to shower and sleep. It had always been this way with him when he started a new project. Thursday afternoon found him at his dining table pondering the wisdom of deleting the chapter he had just written. He didn’t like it and wasn’t sure whether it belonged elsewhere or even in the story at all.  As he weighed the pros and cons, his belly rumbled loudly at the same time that the doorbell rang. 

Sighing in frustration, he went to answer it without checking to see who was there, oblivious to his state of undress. He blinked when he saw Jake standing there, looking tired and not a little irritated. He stepped aside, his belly fluttering in unease. Why was Jake so pissed? What had happened?

“Is this how you normally answer your door?”

Dave looked down and saw what Jake saw…rumpled black boxers, a coffee-stained wife-beater half in and half out of the waistband, bare feet. He dragged a hand over his head and face and stepped back so Jake could enter.

“I was working.  No need to dress up to write.”

Jake closed the door with his foot and dropped the small suitcase he was holding. Dave registered that fact while Jake dragged him up against his chest and said, “At least you don’t smell like a dump.”

The kiss he laid on Dave woke up the other hunger that had lain dormant for the last three days. He felt defensive and hungry and turned on all at the same time. Had Jake come straight to see him, instead of going home first? Did he have anything to feed him? Maybe he should go take a shower. His distraction did not go unnoticed.

“I’ve had better welcome home kisses from my dog!”

Jake’s sharp tone and cutting words riled Dave, and he dragged Jake’s head down, whispering, “Asshole!” even as he plunged into his mouth, taking over the kiss, showing him with every lick and suck how much he had missed him. And when they both broke for air, he realized that he had missed Jake, though he hadn’t noted it because he had had the distraction of writing. 

“That’s better.” Jake’s smile was smug. “We’ll have to work on your love language, next. ‘Asshole’ is not a term of endearment, no matter what you’ve been told.”

Relief swept through him, and Dave laughed so hard his chest hurt.  “You deserved it,” he said finally, when he could talk. “Comparing me to your dog was a low blow.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I got what I wanted.” Another smirk earned Jake a slap on the chest.

“Welcome home, soldier. It’s good to see you. But, aren’t you a little early? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see you. Did your trip go well?”

“Well enough. I have some shots I want to show you, so you can help me decide which to send to the magazine I did the work for. You have a good eye.”

“Yeah…some artist guy I barely knew told me that once.”

Jake chuckled. “You should trust him. He knows what he’s talking about.”

“Wise ass!”

“That’s not acceptable love talk either, buddy.” 

Dave chuckled as he walked away. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Are you hungry? I can order pizza or Chinese.”

“I’m fine.” 

The look in Jake’s eyes shot lust through Dave like a fiery dart. He walked away, stripping as he entered the bathroom and stepping into the shower, letting the cold water cool his ardor. He closed his eyes and stood there for a full thirty seconds before setting it to the temperature he wanted.  Then he lathered himself up with shower gel, wishing he could linger on his half-hard cock and his balls. But Jake was waiting. Dave would seek satisfaction later, after he was gone.

A warm hand pushed his own away and stroked up and down his belly, taking his cock in hand and sliding around it slowly, achingly slowly.

“Need some help with this?” Jake breathed the question into his ear as he stepped in behind him, pulling Dave’s back up against his front.

Dave groaned, trying to stay still as Jake worked him over with his hand. They hadn’t talked about this, but it felt right, and Jake had told him to go with his gut.

“Couldn’t do it better if I tried,” he managed to say. 

Jake refused to let him do more than stand there and enjoy the feel of another man’s hands on his cock. Scorching heat raced up his spine, a fierce arousal lengthening and hardening his dick as Jake licked his earlobe and kissed him in the warm space behind it. Dave gave himself over to the sensations coursing through him. Jerking off by himself had never felt this good. And when Jake slicked up his finger with more shower gel and breached his ass, Dave’s groans of pleasure were ripped from him, increasing as his fear decreased. Then Jake touched that spot inside that lit him up like a Christmas tree, making him quake. 

“Oh fuck me!” His words seemed to turn Jake on, and he introduced a second finger into Dave’s throbbing ass, making him scream when both touched him in that special place.

“Oh shit!  I’m gonna come.” 

Dave couldn’t stop the tide, and shuddered as he spilled his seed.  Jake held him up, and when he shot the last of his load, he made a satisfied sound and turned to face Jake, thanking him with a slow kiss. 

“I thought I was supposed to be the one welcoming you home.” His cheeks ached from the width of his smile as he reached for Jake’s hard cock.

Jake avoided his hands. “I’ll take a rain check.” 

Surprised to see Jake was as naked as he was, he glanced down, past his rigid dick, and saw the space where a leg ought to be. He spoke without thinking. “How do you…?”

Jake smiled. “If there’s no shower chair, you mean? Very, very carefully.”

He reached around Dave and got the gel, rubbing it into his skin while he leaned against the tiled wall. Dave watched in fascination as Jake washed his whole body, knowing he was missing the opportunity of a lifetime to get his hands on him. He didn’t care. He wanted to see how Jake managed to live with what Dave thought was a horrific impediment. Jake braced against the wall, or against him, when he needed to steady himself, and they finished their shower together. Once they’d changed, as Dave watched him put his prosthetic back on, he repeated his offer.

“Pizza’s fine. Order two…I’m starving.”

After dinner, Jake sat with him, sharing the landscape photos he had been commissioned to take and discussing choices. They settled on the best dozen, and once that was decided, Jake sat back and listened as Dave brought him up to speed on the new story. He could tell that Jake was exhausted, and going with his gut again, he said,

“Hey, you can crash here tonight if you like. I have a guest bedroom with a bed I can sleep in. You take mine…it’ll fit you better.”

Jake didn’t protest, but followed him down the hall to his master suite.  But as he turned to walk out, Jake’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“You don’t have to give up your bed for me. I’ll leave you some room.  Deal?”

Dave answered Jake’s smile with one of his own. “We’ll see.” He might not even end up going to bed, though now, after that brief interlude in the shower, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against Jake’s chest.

Dave left him in his bedroom and went back to work, but now the words didn’t flow. It was as though the source had been choked, and nothing he did could dislodge Jake from his thoughts. Maybe if he took the laptop into the bedroom, he could sit by the chair and write while Jake slept.  He settled in the big armchair by the window, but now he was distracted by watching Jake’s chest rise and fall, and listening to his soft snores. And when he managed to write two pages, Jake’s thrashing in his sleep brought Dave’s eyes back over to the bed, where the sheet covering him had been dislodged, and his stump lay exposed. 

Dave slid the laptop to the floor and crept quietly over to the bed, sitting on the edge as carefully as he could. He wanted to touch the evidence of Jake’s strength, but he knew it would be an invasion of privacy, like molesting a woman in her sleep. He stared down at Jake, fighting his warring urges, so lost in the struggle to do the right thing that he missed Jake’s eyes opening. 

“What happened?” Jake’s question was harsh, his eyes cautious as he sprang up in bed. 

Dave started in surprise. “Nothing. Why?”

“Nothing…” He must have seen the disbelief on Dave’s face because he said, “Sometimes I have nightmares. I just wondered if that’s why you were staring at me when I woke up.”

Dave sensed Jake’s discomfort in the way he pulled his stump under the sheet and shuttered his expression. He imagined the nightmares were about the incident that cost him his leg. Someday, he’d get the whole story out of him.  But for now, he needed the relaxed Jake back.

“No nightmares. I…I just wanted to look at you. I’m not getting much writing done now anyway.”

Jake moved over on the bed and patted the empty space beside him.  “Bed’s ready when you are.”

And so they spent their first night together with Dave snuggled into Jake’s chest, Jake’s arms wrapped around him. And all they did was sleep, which both surprised and delighted Dave when he woke up the next morning. Jake was already awake and watching him. Dave was glad that what he felt was more than the need to scratch an itch. He was too old for that shit.

“You’re a real pretty boy, you know that?” Jake’s voice was husky with desire. “And pretty damn sexy, too, even in your sleep.”

Dave chuckled. “Thanks, Captain Badass. Compliments from you are gold.”

Jake laughed. “I guess ‘Captain Badass’ is better than ‘asshole’ or ‘wise ass.’ You’re not a writer for nothing.” He paused, cupping his chin in thought. “Seems you've got a thing for asses, though.”

Flames of embarrassment rode up Dave’s cheeks, making Jake laugh again as he pulled him in for a quick good morning kiss. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking Dave’s burning cheeks. “I’m an ass man myself.  A match made in heaven.”

He followed his teasing words with a kiss that went from slow and gentle to heated then scorching in no time. Dave opened his mouth beneath the assault of Jake’s lips and tongue and let himself be bowled over by passion and desire. 

The doorbell rang, and Jake looked at him inquiringly.

Dave looked at the time. Nine thirty…no one came to visit him in the city without telling him, except…

“It’s my sister. She comes in once a month to meet her girlfriends for some fun and starts her day by harassing me.”

“Do you want me to stay in here?”

Dave could see the concern in Jake’s eyes. And suddenly, he didn’t care. Maybe this was what needed to happen. He had left his emotions hanging in the air too long, and it was time to decide what he wanted. He knew what he wanted…Jake Pratt in his life, in every way a man could want another. He needed Jake’s friendship, his strength, his passion. He needed his touch…his heart and soul. And he refused to deny himself any of it anymore. Jake was his, if he would only say yes to his heart’s desires.

“No. Come out when you’re ready.”

“Are you sure? I can wait…”

“I’m sure.” 

He leaned in and kissed Jake’s lips gently before sliding out of bed and dragging on shorts and a tee shirt. As he walked out, Jake said, “Hey.” Dave looked back, liking what he saw, loving the way that accepting this man into his life made him feel. “I’ve got you, okay?”

Dave smiled. “I know.  Thanks.”

Then he went to let his sister in. When Jake walked in, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, Dave had just handed Carla a cup of coffee and was about to sit down. Instead, he walked over to Jake and smiled.

“Coffee?” he asked, trying to hide his nerves. He knew he wouldn’t change his mind, but he was still unsure of his family’s reaction.

“Thanks.”

Jake’s smile turned his heart over in his chest, and he resisted the urge to reach over and kiss him. That might be too much information all at once.  Instead, he made introductions.

“Carla, this is my friend Jake. Remember the vet I told you about, the one who’s now an artist? This is the guy. Jake, Carla, my youngest sister.”

Dave watched his sister size up Jake, looking him over from head to toe, before extending her hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Jake.” She gave Dave a meaningful stare, and he chuckled. “I’ll be right back.” He turned to Jake again. “Sugar? Cream?”

“Just cream, thanks.”

He took his and Jake’s coffee back into the living room and sat next to Carla. Jake had chosen to sit in the extra wide chair by the fireplace.

“Here you go.” He handed Jake a mug and sat back, turning to Carla. “So, what are plans for today?”

“After breakfast, which you will buy me, the girls and I are going museum hopping, and then shopping. Dinner, a movie, and then we’ll take the late train back home.”

“Full day. But I can’t buy you breakfast today. I have other plans.”

Carla turned her bright eyes to his face and smirked. “So I see.”

Dave rolled his eyes, fighting to keep his cheeks from flushing, but only said, “So, breakfast here, or solo at some cafe?”

“What do you think? I want to be the first to grill Jake.”

Dave looked over at Jake whose lips twitched in amusement, though he still said nothing.

“He’s an ex-Army captain. You think you can get anything out of him he’s not willing to give up?”

“I’m willing to start with name, rank and serial number,” she said, straight-faced.

Jake burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking, his eyes tearing up. Dave’s heart melted at the sight. Eventually, he managed to stall his amusement long enough to say, “Captain Jacob Pratt, retired, United States Army, at your service, ma’am. I don’t give my social security number to anyone. Serial numbers went out of style when social security numbers became a thing.”

And then he collapsed into helpless laughter again at the astonishment on Carla’s face. Dave knew he was in love in that moment, and he knew he would fight for moments like these to continue for the rest of his life.

Chapter Nine

One month later, his backyard was overflowing with people, but Jake had eyes for only one man.  He watched as Dave walked away from the knot of family and friends who had come out at his invitation to celebrate Dave’s getting another novel onto the New York Times Bestseller list. His series was doing phenomenally, and his first novel in the new series was almost complete. In the month since they had been together, Jake had discovered David Boone and had devoured every book his lover had written. He fell in love with David the writer as much as he was in love with Dave, the man he knew he would spend the rest of his life with.

Since that first meeting with Carla, Jake had found himself inexorably drawn into the family gatherings at the Moussa household. Mrs. Moussa had been the last to be won over, though she was still cool around him.  She had been the soul of courtesy whenever he was around, but he read her well enough to know she wasn’t sure she approved of her son’s relationship with a man. He hated needing her approval, but it was important to Dave, and Jake was prepared to do whatever he needed to do to keep the man he had fallen in love with by his side. His ears still rang from her scathing inquisition when he told her he wanted Dave for himself for life.

“What do you have to offer my son? A broken man like you? What can you give him to make him better? What will you bring to our family?”

Rage had welled up inside him at her dismissive words, but he had met her toe to toe. He would not let her separate them, after all they had been through to get to each other. He would overcome this barrier as he had all the others…with honesty.

“I offer him choice. He can be whoever he wants to be and not have to bear any guilt for his choices. He’s not a boy to be told how to live and who to love. He’s a man, with a man’s heart and a man’s needs.  And I can meet those needs.”

He had felt no guilt in telling her that she had stifled her son and that she was the reason Dave had not come out as bi sooner. He had never been one to hold his tongue, and he wouldn’t start now with a woman whose prejudice could have ruined his chance to be with Dave.

“You have two choices. You can accept what Dave chooses to do with his life and be part of our family. Or you can reject it, and we'll still be together, just without you in our lives. I know you love your son. I hope you make the right choice.”

He had also never told Dave about that angry conversation.

“You’ve got yourself quite a man there, son.”

Jake smiled at his dad, who had catered the party for him. “I know. I appreciate your help, Dad.”

“Your mother and I have only waited our whole lives to see you this happy.” He sighed. “When you came home two years ago, we were in despair. You had gone so far away from us. We worried that we had lost you to the war, to your nightmares, to your anger and guilt. Any man who can get you to see past all that is worth holding on to.”

A shriek of childish laughter caught their attention, and Jake watched as Dave’s niece and nephew chased each other. Jake was content to have him by his side as he faced down the demons that sometimes still woke him at night.

“We both had issues when we met,” Jake confessed. “So, I guess we’re both good for each other.”

“Uncle Jake! Uncle Jake! Tell Benny you can beat any bad guy. He says you can’t because you’ve only got one leg!”

Jake smiled. The secret of his leg had come out as accidentally as his relationship with Dave had done. Another sleepover at Dave’s had been interrupted by the arrival of his oldest sister and her kids. Dave had gone out for a run, and Jake had slept in. When the doorbell rang, he had gone to answer it without thinking, using his forearm crutch, and the shock on her face, followed almost immediately by the children’s gasps had alerted him to the fact that, for the first time in two years, he had not thought about wearing his leg outside of the bedroom.

The children’s questions had been inevitable, and he had been grateful for the total lack of pity in Cindy’s eyes. Instead, they had warmed with understanding and affection. The memory of her hug still made him warm inside.

“I’ll beat off the bad guys with my artificial leg!”

Both children laughed, and he watched them affectionately as they ran off again. The party was winding down, and before too long, people started to drift over to say their goodbyes. Dave joined him on the porch, wrapping an arm around his waist. Public displays of affection were another of the things Dave had helped him to accept. He leaned in to his lover, inhaling the scent of his favorite cologne, wishing their guests safe travels, kissing cheeks and shaking hands, hugging anyone who offered one.

“When can we come back, Uncle Jake?” Benny’s question broke into his musings.

“Whenever your parents say it’s okay.”

“You promised me a back rub,” Dave reminded him as they locked up before bed. “I’ve been writing flat out for the last two weeks, and I’m beginning to feel like someone rolled over me with a semi.”

“Bath first?”

“Only if you’ll join me.”

Jake knew before the bath water grew cold around them that he would seduce the man he loved. He wanted him forever, and tonight he would ask him the question he had been holding in his heart for the last few weeks.  He began with slow kisses in the tub, stroking him almost to orgasm before backing off, leaving Dave wanting. They loved to play this game, edging each other until they were beyond wild for release. And then when they took their full pleasure, the orgasm was mind-blowing.

Once they were dry, he took Dave to bed. “Face down. Spread ‘em.”

Dave chuckled into the sheets. “Ay ay, captain!”

“Wrong branch, wrong response.” Jake smoothed the fragrant oil over Dave’s skin. “Sir, yes, sir?” Dave’s grin was infectious, but his moans as Jake began to massage his aching muscles were the ultimate turn-on. 

“Kinky.” Jake dug his fingers into the mounds of Dave’s round buttocks, smoothing and squeezing them, spreading his cheeks so he could spread some of the oil into the tempting crack. He slid his finger between the cheeks, and slipped his thumb into Dave’s hole to the first knuckle. Bending down to Dave’s ear, he whispered, “When I’m done with your massage, I’m going to fuck you hard, and then there’ll be a test. Only one question. Get it right, and there’ll be much more of this in your future.”

Then he stopped talking, and rolled Dave over, smoothing the oil all over his front. He avoided Dave’s cock and balls until his lover was once again on the brink.

“Shhh!”  He kissed Dave’s moans out of his mouth, finally reaching his cock and stroking him teasingly. “I love making love to you,” he told him.  “You’re so responsive. And I love it when you touch me.”

Dave rewarded him by tracing his fingers over Jake’s hard rod, and they stroked each other, Jake eventually lying on top and lining up their cocks as they rode each other to a raging madness. Then Jake pulled away, reaching for a condom and lube. Dave took the condom from him, rolling it on with shaking hands while Jake held on patiently to the need surging in his bones as he spread lube on his lover and himself. By the time Dave was done, he was a mess of shivering want. 

“I’ll do it better next time, but right now, I need to be inside you.” 

Dave spread his legs and raised his ass, and Jake took him, plunging in to the balls. He didn’t move for a long moment, letting Dave’s body adjust to his invasion, giving himself time to cool off before he began thrusting in.

“Move, for fuck’s sake!” Dave growled, and Jake lost it.

Sex had never been this good before. His whole body burned and glowed, and his heart raced as he took his lover over the edge with him, thrusting and pumping him, leaning in to kiss him, wrapping his arms around him and taking everything Dave was offering. Jake rode him hard, plunging into him relentlessly, hungry for the fullness of the connection with Dave, giving him his whole being with each deep plunge into his ass. When his orgasm hit, he roared, going faster, unable to think beyond the need to empty himself inside his lover. Dave followed a moment later, spraying both their bellies with cum.

Gasping for air, Jake rolled to the side, pulling his lover with him. He smoothed his hands over Dave’s sweaty skin, needing to keep contact with him in every way. His cock was still inside him, and he felt it jerk and pulse before it slipped out.

“You okay?”

“Sure was an easy test,” Dave sassed him.

Jake had just enough brain power to remember his earlier promise.  He chuckled. “Wise ass. That’s not the question.”

“Thought you said that wasn’t acceptable love language.” Dave’s moan when Jake bit his earlobe was delicious torture for them both.

“Do you want to hear the question or not?”

“Fire away, captain!”

Jake rolled his eyes, chuckling, but he didn’t let go of Dave. Instead, he sat up, pulling Dave with him, and when they were facing each other, he switched to his knees between Dave’s legs.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be normal again. I was angry, afraid, and guilty as hell when I met you. Sure, Doug had helped me figure out how to put a good face on things, and I was doing better than before, but when you walked though my front door and upended my world, I had two choices. I could embrace the exploding feelings, or I could shut them down.” 

He picked up Dave’s hand and kissed the palm. “I’ve never said these words to anyone else, not even Mike. I love you, Dave. I want you with me for always. Marry me. What do you say?”

Dave cocked his head to the side, smiling slowly at Jake. “Was that the question?”

“Yeah.” Jake couldn’t manage even a smile. All his old insecurities came rushing back for one crippling moment, and then Dave spoke.

“I love you, too, so yes. I’ll stay with you for always.” He pulled Jake’s face down to his for a kiss, and then asked, “Did I pass?”

“With flying colors.”

Jake loved the feel of Dave’s lips as he traced the tattoo on Jake’s bicep, following its path around Jake’s arm and up to his shoulder with soft kisses. Then he took a detour across his cheek to his lips and sucked on them until Jake opened for him, smiling into his kiss.

“I believe I’m ready for seconds now, lover.”

Sweat popped out on Jake’s body at Dave’s sultry tone. “Your wish is my command.”

Keeping Dave happy would be Jake’s life’s work from now on. He couldn’t wait. He kissed him and started the seduction all over again.