Sins of the Past

 

 

 

Amanda Young


Dedication

 

In dedication to single parents everywhere. I’m in awe of you.


Prologue


Angela sat at the end of the long oak bar, her legs twined in the spokes of her stool. Sipping a club soda, she casually perused the room. She maintained a calm outward appearance, belying the inner anxiety she felt about what she’d dubbed “The Mission”.

Nearly midnight on New Years Eve, the club was booming. People drank with excess all around her, half of them stumbling over with it, too intoxicated to walk upright. It seemed the perfect setting for seduction. Following through with her dreams tonight, of all nights, felt especially significant to her. While the others would nurse hangovers and plan easily aborted resolutions in the morning, Angela hoped to celebrate the realization of a dream she’d clutched tight to her breast since she was a little girl.

From across the smoky bar, through a dense crowd of mingling partygoers and the haze of flashing lights, Angela spotted the man she sought. On the outer fringes of the packed dance floor, his tall, lean frame swayed to the earsplitting beat of the classic rock song currently blaring through the club’s sound system. His hips gyrated to the music as the petite brunette he partnered tried to keep up with his decadent moves.

His long legs and tight ass were cupped by a pair of snug, faded blue jeans. Across his broad chest and wide, linebacker shoulders, a white cotton T-shirt stretched to maximum width. It highlighted his firm pecs and the slight dip at the center of his corded neck. With every undulation, she could make out the flex and ripple of his washboard stomach beneath the thin, clinging fabric.

Because of the way they danced, the woman hanging onto him like a leech, a casual observer might have assumed the pair were a couple. Angela knew differently.

She’d seen this same man in several of the night clubs she’d frequented over the past weeks. After watching him in action—seeing the way he flitted from one conquest to another without the least sense of attachment—she’d decided he was the perfect person to give her what she wanted.

He always came alone, flirted with every available woman under fifty and left with a different bit of fluff shortly before last call each night. The single thing that made him stand out above all the other men who had caught her attention was his choice of beverage. While everyone else was chugging back one beer after another, he swilled down water like he was suffering from dehydration. She’d never once seen him touch the harder drinks available at the bar. If he wouldn’t touch alcohol, it stood to reason he probably wouldn’t do drugs either. A handy bit of information to have, Angela mused, when you were searching for an anonymous sperm donor to father your child.

From all appearances, the man was a player. Someone who bounced from one warm body to the next, with little thought of consequence, while spreading his seed to who knew how many women in the process. What difference would one more make when she was ready and willing to accept all the responsibility for the resulting byproduct? It was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned. He would get off—which seemed to be his only objective—and she would walk away with the child she so desperately yearned for.

After setting her sights on him, Angela paid close attention to the type of woman he usually left with. Much like her own too-tall, almost coltish figure, his conquests were all slim and boyish rather than robust and curvy. For tonight, she’d gone out of her way to dress herself in the manner he seemed to find attractive. Newly purchased black jeans, the first pair she’d ever owned, were so constricting she could barely breathe. A low-cut black cotton tank top with a built-in bra pushed her firm, apple-sized breasts to their best advantage. Minimal makeup, a touch of mascara and tinted lip gloss, and her long blonde hair left down to curl in ringlets around her face completed the impression she wanted to give. A representation of exactly the kind of woman she knew he would go for.

In the pocket of her painted-on jeans, Angela fingered the gold coin condom she’d doctored earlier that night. She’d poked numerous holes all along the tip with a sterile needle, hoping they were big enough to allow sperm through, but tiny enough not to be noticed.

Her plans for the future, dreams of having a family, a child of her own to lavish with all the love and adoration she’d never received growing up, rested on the outcome of tonight. Everything had to be perfect. Time was running out.

Ductal carcinoma in situ, fancy doctor’s jargon for breast cancer, guaranteed that if she didn’t have a child now, before undergoing the required chemotherapy and radiation to fight the disease ravaging her body, she never would. Not naturally.

The chemotherapy would destroy her body, killing any viable eggs she possessed. Sure, she had the option of freezing her eggs. A scientist could remove them, store them, fertilize them in a Petri dish and then, when she was well enough, insert them via in vitro fertilization. The entire time she’d listened to her doctor outline her choices, his voice droning on in a bored monotone as if he were talking about remanufactured car parts instead of her body, she knew that wasn’t a choice for her.

More important to her than anything else, even at the cost of her own health, she wanted to have a baby. For a child’s love she was willing to risk everything. And if the only way she could accomplish her goal was to trick someone into knocking her up, then so be it. It wasn’t as if she could walk into a sperm bank and buy what she needed, not with her medical condition.

When the song playing began to wind down, the end notes lowering in volume, Angela started across the room. As she made her way through the throng of people, she was careful to keep her walk slow and sinuous. The attention her predatory stroll caught, the appreciative glances, were brushed off and ignored. For the first time in her life, Angela was the one on the prowl, a female animal in heat and ready to mate. She was the one calling the shots.

Tonight, with a little cooperation from Mr. Sex-on-legs across the room, she was going to create a life. He just didn’t know it yet. And if she had her way, he never would.


Chapter One

 

Ryan Ward sat behind his large mahogany desk and contemplated the blueprint laid out before him. The landscape proposal he currently slaved away on for Virginia Tech was coming along nicely, but something was missing. Something about the shrubbery he’d intended to suggest planting along the flanks of the building didn’t seem quite right.

Rubbing at his temples with the charcoal-stained tips of his forefingers, he closed his eyes and tried to get a clear picture in his mind. He shook his head. No, maybe he would suggest a nice rock garden instead. That would be more appropriate for the new council building they were planning to construct. Opening his eyes, Ryan reached across the surface of his desk for a slim charcoal pencil and a squishy mound of white eraser.

He knew it was rather old-school, but he couldn’t stand doing a mock-up on the computer. His creativity came out best on paper, not a monitor. Every time he’d tried to start from scratch on the computer, he came up blank. It was better, simpler for him to do a rough draft by hand and then add it into the computer program later. What was a little extra time when it saved him some grief?

“Why are you here?”

Absorbed in his work, Ryan jumped. His pencil skidded across the paper in a jagged line, ripping a slash down the center. He looked up to see his friend and business partner, Bobby Kincaid, standing in the doorway and staring at him with a pissy expression, as if Ryan had eaten the last jelly donut in the break room.

Ryan frowned. “The last I heard, I still own half of this damn company.”

“You’re going to be late,” Bobby growled, propelling his heavily muscled, six-foot, seven-inch frame into the room.

Ryan glanced down at the cheap plastic watch on his wrist. His sixth one this year and it was only March. Notoriously bad about breaking every one he owned, it made no sense to spend a wad of cash on something nicer. Not when he would probably wash it with his jeans or accidentally drop it into the toilet.

“Late for what? It’s only a quarter till noon.”

“It’s also Friday,” Bobby rumbled, propping his hip against the corner of the desk. “As in the Friday you’re supposed to be having lunch with the blind date my kid brother Nick set you up on. Am I ringing any bells for you?”

“Shit. Was that today? I’m busy with this proposal. We have a meeting with the college on Monday.”

“Yeah, shit. Do you know how much crap I’m going to be forced to listen to if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and get across town right now? Nick and that new boyfriend of his, Jake or whatever, won’t ever let me hear the end of it.”

Ryan laughed, running an errant hand through his shaggy black hair. “So Nick’s seeing somebody new, huh? What happened to Rick, or was it Rico?”

“Hell, I don’t know. He goes through them faster than I can keep up with. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. If you stand up this friend of his, I’m going to be driven slowly insane. And then who would do all the paperwork you refuse to touch?”

“That’s dirty, man.”

“Yeah.” Bobby grinned. “But effective.”

Groaning, Ryan stood and shoved back his chair. “I’m moving, aren’t I?”

Bobby chuckled. “A little slow, but I guess that’s what you old guys call moving.”

“Fuck you, Bobby. I’m only thirty-one, exactly two years older than you, my friend. Thirty’s staring you right in the face, even if you won’t admit it.”

“Whatever, man. No matter how old I get, you’ll still be older.” Cackling like a little old lady at his own joke, Bobby trotted out of the room, leaving the door hanging open behind him.

On his way out, Ryan grabbed his leather bomber off the back of the chair, punched his arms into the sleeves and zipped it up. It was fairly warm outside for late March but riding his hog in the open air had a way of making it feel like winter on the warmest of days. He snatched his chrome-colored helmet off the floor beside the door and slung the chin strap over his wrist.

In a concession to his addiction for donuts, Ryan took the stairs, jogging down three flights to the lobby instead of taking the elevator. He shoved through the double glass doors, stepped out into the brisk spring sunshine and headed straight for his parking space and waiting motorcycle.

It would be tricky, but with just under ten minutes till twelve and a twenty minute ride to the diner where he and his date were supposed to meet, he figured he wouldn’t be too late. If traffic wasn’t bad and he really pushed the speed limit, there was a chance he could still be on time.

Ryan slid on his helmet and threw his leg over the bike. Kicking up the kickstand, he turned over the ignition, revved it up and eased out into the slow midday traffic.

Twelve minutes later, he swerved into the small diner’s parking lot, a full set of nerves jolting to life inside his gut. How had he managed to let himself be talked into this? The only people who volunteered to go on blind dates were trolls. He didn’t consider himself to be in that category because he’d been cajoled into it. Nobody could lay a better guilt trip than Nick.

He jumped off the bike and strolled across the pavement, taking his time. So what if he was another minute late? Maybe, if he got lucky, the dude he was meeting would be a stickler for dating ethics and would have already left, saving him the trouble of sitting through boring small talk and the obligatory “I’ll give you a call” that ended it.

Ryan pulled off his helmet at the door and ran his fingers through his hair, hoping it wasn’t standing straight up. He was past due for a haircut, but these days he hadn’t been able to dredge up enough reason to care. Glancing in the reflective glass at the door, he was glad to see the wavy mass of black locks only partially misbehaving. Making a mental note to visit a barber, he yanked open the door and sauntered inside.

He glanced around the small old-fashioned diner, with its single row of high-backed, flame red booths and matching red and white checked linoleum. As his gaze roamed, trying to pick out his date, Ryan wondered just whose idea it had been to come here.

It didn’t seem like the kind of place Nick would frequent. There weren’t any men in black leather loitering around outside or naked pictures on the walls for it to fit in with his demented tastes. This place must have been chosen by his date. If that were the case, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. At least the guy had simple tastes, right in line with his own. As far as Ryan was concerned, there was nothing better than a thick hamburger and a stack of crispy fries.

Being raised in a lower middle class, blue-collar family had shaped him into who he was. Even the success of his own landscape design firm and enough money to buy and sell a thousand of the shoebox trailers he’d been raised in couldn’t change his outlook on life. A simple man with simple tastes.

At the back of the diner in the last booth Ryan could just make out the top of a blond head. Since it was the only booth occupied by one person, the rest filled with couples and families, he assumed the blond was his date. Unless he’d been stood up, which was always a possibility.

Feigning casual indifference, he strutted up to the booth. “Hi, I’m Ryan. Are you—?” The blond man turned and gave Ryan his first good look at him. Ryan’s tongue twisted, stilling his ability to form coherent words.

The angular planes of his face, sharp cheekbones and a full pink mouth, were cataloged and stored in Ryan’s memory. The most brilliant characteristic, the man’s luminous blue eyes framed by thick, curling lashes shades darker than his wheat-colored hair, locked with Ryan’s and held him captive.

“Um, yes. I’m Andrew.” A long-fingered hand was held out in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryan.”

Ryan barely had the composure to pull himself out of the limpid pools of blue in which he was ensnared and take the slender hand within his own for a lingering shake. Andrew’s hand was warm and soft to the touch, unlike his own rough, calloused paws.

When Ryan realized he was standing there staring and holding the man’s hand much longer than was appropriate, he gave it a quick squeeze and let go. He slid into the booth on the opposite side of Andrew and picked up a menu.

Ryan cast a glance at Andrew over the laminated list of the diner’s specialties, trying not to be too conspicuous as he checked the other man out. “So, what’s good here?” It was uncanny. The man looked like a life-size version of a Ken doll. Immediately, Ryan, and the cock steadily lengthening against his fly, wanted to find out whether or not Andrew was as flexible as a Barbie.

“Um, well, I don’t really know,” Andrew replied, with his face buried in the menu. “I’ve never been here before either.”

“So then it was Nick who picked out this place?” Ryan asked, irrationally feeling disappointed that Andrew hadn’t chosen it.

“No, I picked it. I hope this place is okay. I wasn’t really sure how long this would take…” Andrew finally glanced up at him from around the menu, his cheeks flushed a pale pink that Ryan found adorable. “I mean, I wasn’t sure how long lunch would last and I have to be home before my daughter gets off the bus at three o’clock. We live just a few miles up the road in the Rolling Acres subdivision.”

Ryan nodded. “Nice area to raise a kid.”

“We like it.”

Ryan looked back down at the menu, pretending to scrutinize it carefully. He knew the area Andrew mentioned well. It was a high-dollar gated community. Knowing Andrew had money somehow dampened Ryan’s attraction to him. He knew it was shallow, but he found himself studying Andrew a little more closely, examining his clothing and manner with a keener eye.

The watch on Andrew’s wrist, one Ryan would have normally assumed was gold-toned, now took on a more expensive glint. Since he’d never seen a Rolex in person and had no idea how to recognize one on sight, it could have been authentic for all he knew. It certainly wasn’t a twenty dollar department store watch, like the one he sported. The plain blue polo shirt that Andrew wore began to look a little nicer, more designer ilk than the Sears brand Ryan kept in the back of his closet, only to be dragged out and worn for meetings and special occasions that called for something more than his typical jeans and T-shirts.

Ryan tried to recall what kinds of vehicles he’d seen in the parking lot. What did Andrew drive? If they walked out together, would his old, rebuilt Harley embarrass him?

Damn it, he was not going to go there. Not again.

He’d been through this once before with Derrick, the first real homosexual relationship he’d ever been in. Derrick had come from old money. Though he wasn’t flashy with it, and Ryan always refused the gifts Derrick bought for him, people had still believed he was using Derrick for his money. The rumors, the shifty glances, all of it eventually drove a wedge between them that neither knew how to fix.

Andrew might be adorable, hot as hell if Ryan wanted to be honest, but there was no chance for a relationship between them. Ryan came from little better than poor white trash. He knew it and he wasn’t ashamed of his childhood. His father had worked hard for every cent he’d made. It was simply a matter of the square peg not fitting into a round hole. He wouldn’t fit into Andrew’s world and Andrew wouldn’t want to fit into his.

Ryan decided he would make the appropriate small talk, eat his lunch and leave. The chemistry sizzling between them was better left ignored.

 

Andrew openly regarded the man sitting across from him while Ryan placed his order with the waitress. When she faced him, Andrew requested the chef salad with Italian dressing on the side before turning his attention back to Ryan.

Although he’d known Jake and his new beau Nick wouldn’t set him up with a total loss, Andrew hadn’t expected Ryan to be quite so handsome. His blue-black locks, a touch too long and constantly falling into his whiskey-colored eyes, were a pleasant surprise. His tall and stocky build, with wide shoulders that arrowed down to trim hips and long, athletic legs, didn’t hurt his aesthetic appeal any either.

Andrew knew from past experience that the good ones were usually reserved for the people who set up the blind dates, not the people going on them. If things went well, as he hoped they would, Andrew would really owe Jake big time for setting him up with this guy.

Maybe he would even be able to talk Jake out of the remaining sense of culpability the man felt regarding their break up two years earlier. It wasn’t Jake’s fault that the sparks just weren’t there. They were much better off as friends than lovers.

Sliding his menu back into the silver-colored holder at the end of the table, Andrew tried to think of some small talk to get the conversation rolling again. For the last few minutes things had grown silent between them, the awkward pause in conversation that only seemed to happen on a first date or a last one.

“So,” Andrew started, “how do you know Nick and Jake?”

“Hmm?” Ryan looked up from his hands on the table, where he twined and untwined them, twiddling his thumbs. “Oh. I’ve known Nick forever. His brother, Bobby, and I were roommates in college before we went into business together.”

Interesting. “Business?” Andrew questioned, his fingers toying with his napkin.

“Bobby and I own Ward Creations. It’s a landscape design firm.”

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of you. Last year, when they renovated the library, didn’t you guys do the grounds?”

A small smile tipped the corners of Ryan’s thin pink lips. “Yeah, we did that one.”

“Katie just loves those little benches in the garden. Sitting out there is about the only reason she tolerates me dragging her to the library as much as I do.”

Ryan quirked one black brow. “Katie?”

Andrew nodded. “My daughter.”

“Oh.” Ryan leaned in on his elbows, his chin resting on the back of his hands. “So. What do you do for a living?”

“Oh. Well…before I moved here, I worked as a commodities broker in New York. Thanks to some good investments, I can afford to stay home and take care of Katie full time.”

“That must be nice.”

“It certainly comes in handy. Believe me, taking care of a nine-year-old is a full-time job in itself.”

The waitress, with her beehive hairdo and pound and a half of makeup, came up to their table, her arms laden with their orders. She plopped Ryan’s cheeseburger and fries down in front of Andrew and put Andrew’s salad down in front of Ryan before hustling back into the kitchen without a word.

“Got to love the service here,” Andrew quipped.

“I’m sure she’s doing the best she can,” Ryan snapped back at him.

Okay. The muscles between his brows grew taut, trying to figure out what he’d said to bug Ryan. The man couldn’t actually think he was really bothered by the waitress’s brisk manner, could he?

“Uh, I was just kidding,” Andrew muttered. When Ryan glanced at him, Andrew shrugged and added, “About the waitress. It’s lunchtime. I’m sure she’s just busy.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ryan reached over and grabbed his plate, switching their meals around the right way, before tearing into his hamburger like it was the enemy.

Andrew glanced down at his salad, covered in a gelatinous mess of ranch dressing when he’d clearly ordered Italian dressing, and on the side at that. Instead of complaining, he busied himself by moving the leafy greens and red cherry tomatoes around with his fork. There wasn’t any need to make a big deal out of the fact that he was lactose intolerant and couldn’t eat the food he’d been given. He could always eat a sandwich or something when he got home.

“What’s the matter? Your food not up to snuff?” Ryan stuffed a fry in his mouth.

“It’s fine.”

Ryan grunted in reply and Andrew bit his tongue to keep from asking him what his damn problem was. No wonder the man had to be set up on blind dates. He may have been attractive but his manners were shit. Sometime between when he sat down and when their food was delivered, the man morphed from a definite possibility into an asshole. And not the good kind.

Andrew’s lips twitched, starting to smile at his own joke, until he looked across the table at his companion. Half his burger was gone and the fries had disappeared completely. Apparently his lunch date was in a hurry.

Fine by him. Andrew snuck his hand into the side pocket of his jacket lying beside him on the booth and covertly dialed his home phone number. The service he used at home forwarded all his calls to his cell. Thanks to the two-way connection he had on his cell, the calls would overlap and as soon as he hung up, his phone would ring. Andrew disconnected the call.

When his cell rang, Andrew shot the obligatory apologetic smile at Ryan and pretended to answer his phone. Hanging up, he looked over at Ryan and shrugged.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to cut this short. That was the school calling to ask me to pick up Katie early. It seems she’s come down with a little head cold.”

Andrew slid to the end of the booth and stood. After shuffling through his pockets, he produced a twenty dollar bill and threw it down on the table. “It was nice to meet you, Ryan.” With that, he turned and exited the diner.

 

Ryan sat, unmoving, and watched Andrew’s ass swish back and forth as he hustled out of the diner. The man had a world-class ass. High and tight, just the way Ryan liked them. Small but impressively well rounded beneath the thin cotton of his pressed khaki slacks.

The phone call had been a ruse. Not having been born yesterday, Ryan knew a poorly executed escape plan for a bad blind date when he saw one. Not that he could blame Andrew for taking off.

Ryan didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he’d snapped at Andrew for making a lame joke about the service. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t entirely true. His mind already made up about Andrew, he’d assumed the man was putting their waitress down. The fact that she really had been rather rude didn’t enter the equation at the time. All he’d thought was that Andrew had been looking down his patrician nose at the woman.

Andrew undoubtedly thought he was an ass. And rightly so.

Ryan glanced down at what remained of his lunch, his appetite shot. With a disgusted sigh, he shoved his plate away. Though their lunch couldn’t have been more then twenty bucks altogether, he pulled a twenty out of his wallet and threw it down next to the one Andrew had left. His pride reared its ugly head and demanded as much.

At least the waitress would have a hefty tip to cheer her up.

He and Andrew had nothing in common, no chance of having a relationship. Yet the thought of Andrew believing him to be a boor bothered him.

Shoving away from the table, Ryan rose to his feet and exited not long behind Andrew. He didn’t know how to contact the man, didn’t even know his last name, but he knew how to find out. Maybe he would send some flowers or something. It was the least he could do for being such a jackass.


Chapter Two

 

The cordless phone pressed to his ear, Andrew rushed around Katie’s princess-themed bedroom. He stalked through the room, trying to make sure he’d packed everything Katie would need for the sleepover she was attending in honor of her best friend Becky’s tenth birthday.

He rammed the last of the items on his mental checklist into a gigantic navy carryall. Toothbrush, hairbrush, clothes, socks and panties, an extra set of clothing, pajamas and BoBo the bear. It was all in there.

He hoped he hadn’t forgotten something. The last time she’d stayed over with one of her little pals, he’d made the huge mistake of forgetting to send BoBo along with her. A tearful call in the middle of the night had him crawling out of bed and chauffeuring the mangled bear across town to Katie’s waiting arms. She refused to sleep without the worn and ragged pink angel bear.

This time he was going out of his way to make sure they did not have a repeat of the last episode. Usually such a well-behaved child, Katie wasn’t prone to throwing temper tantrums or crying jags like so many other kids her age. Hearing her cry broke Andrew’s heart. Listening from across a phone line and not being there to soothe away her upset was worse. He was lucky there hadn’t been any cops around that night or he would’ve gotten a reckless driving ticket with the way he’d flown that bear over to her.

Now, where had he stashed Katie’s pink sleeping bag? He couldn’t remember where he’d put the damn thing.

Jake’s deep voice blaring through the earpiece reminded Andrew that he was supposed to be paying attention to him. What had they been talking about again? Oh, that’s right, the lunch date.

“You owe me big time, Jake. The date you promised would help ease me back into dating turned out to be a disaster. When Ryan wasn’t shoving food into his mouth as fast as he could swallow, he was snapping at me or staring down at the table like it was going to jump up and bite him. He’s cute, no doubt about that, but a complete asshole.”

“I’m sorry, peanut,” Jake replied, his voice taking on what Andrew thought of as his mother-hen tone. “I really thought Ryan was an okay guy. I haven’t been ’round him much, but Nick talks about him all the time.”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong. That’s the last time I let the two of you talk me into going out with one of your friends. The one before this, God, he actually thought I’d be willing to crawl under the restaurant table and blow him. What rock do you keep pulling these men out from under?”

“It’s not like that, peanut. You know I just want you to find someone and be happy.”

“I know. And quit calling me peanut. You know how much I hate that nickname.”

Jake guffawed in his ear before Andrew snapped a quick goodbye and disconnected. He really didn’t have time to yap on the phone. Katie was supposed to be at Becky’s house by seven and it was after six already.

Walking down the stairs, he noticed the house was quiet, almost eerily so. Never a good sign. He entered the living room and cast a quick eye around the large, empty space.

“Katie?” he called. “Where are you, sweetpea? It’s almost time to go.”

“I’m in here, Daddy.”

In here sounded like it came from the kitchen, so Andrew headed in that direction. When he walked through the partition separating the low-level living room from the eat-in kitchen, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

Katie had pulled one of the dinette chairs up against the fridge and was helping herself to chocolate cookies. He’d foolishly thought he’d placed the cow-shaped ceramic jar well out of her reach. Clearly not. Crumbs littered the terracotta tile, but most of the damage appeared to be all over her cookie-stuffed cheeks and the front of her pink sweatshirt.

Andrew blew out a deep breath of hot air. “How many times have I told you you’re not supposed to eat junk food before dinner?”

Katie shrugged her narrow shoulders, her mouth too full to answer. She raised her pink, fleece-covered arm and swiped it over her chocolate-encrusted lips before hopping down off the chair.

Andrew cringed when he noticed the long brown streaks staining her sleeve. That was never going to come out. Well, at least he’d managed to teach her not to talk with her mouth full. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Katie made a big production of swallowing as she trotted over to him. She stopped a few feet away and stood with her thin arms crossed over her chest, batting her long, curling black eyelashes.

“You said I couldn’t have cookies before dinner. But I’m not eating dinner here. So it doesn’t count.”

Okay. And what exactly was he supposed to say in response to that logic? Sometimes he really wished little girls came with a manual. It would make things so much easier.

“It does count and you know it, young lady.”

“Nuh-uh,” she argued, staring up at him with wide brown eyes. “I might not even get supper at Becky’s. The last time I stayed at Becky’s, her mom fixed tuna for supper. Tuna is gross.”

Andrew felt a smile tugging at his lips at her dramatization and willed it away. It wouldn’t do to let her see his amusement. She really was too cute to stay mad at, no matter how hard she tried his patience sometimes. Her long wavy black hair, chipmunk cheeks and expressive eyes never failed to make him smile. He wished he knew where she got her looks. It certainly hadn’t come from his side of her genetics.

“How about I let you off with a warning this time if you promise that from now on you’ll ask for sweets before helping yourself?”

“Okay.” She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Is it time to go yet?”

“Almost. We need to find your sleeping bag first. Do you know where it is?”

Katie nodded, two long braids bouncing over her shoulders. “Yeah. I put it and my pillow on the couch so you wouldn’t forget them.”

Andrew tried not to smile at the disgruntled look on her face and failed. The way she scrunched up her nose in aggravation reminded him so much of Angie when she was a kid, it was uncanny. She might not look like either one of them, but some of her mannerisms were dead on.

“Come on, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her frizzy bangs. “Let’s go pick you out another shirt and then we’ll get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

When Andrew returned home, there was a white van parked in front of his house. Pulling alongside it, Andrew noticed a man standing on his porch.

Andrew got out of his SUV and strode up the walk, curious about who was on his porch at eight o’clock at night and how they’d gotten through security. “Can I help you?” he called out as he approached.

The man turned and Andrew became aware of the floral arrangement he held out in front of him. “Mr. Andrew Vought?”

“Yes.”

“These are for you, sir. I just need you to sign for them.”

A clipboard, pen attached, and delivery slip was shoved into Andrew’s hand. Having forgotten to turn on the outdoor light, he signed without reading and held it out. The delivery guy traded the board for his flowers.

A quick thanks and the delivery guy trotted down the walk back to his van. Andrew watched as he pulled away from the curb before unlocking the door and going inside.

His curiosity piqued, Andrew dropped his keys on the foyer table and flipped on the lamp. Gingerly, he parted the yellow and orange daffodils, hunting for a card. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d received flowers.

His fingers stilled around the bud of one delicate flower, a sudden remembrance popping into his mind and lodging there. Of sitting beside an oak casket, the scent of lilies permeating the air as Katie’s clammy four-year-old hand tightly clasped his. Angie’s funeral, five years past, would have been the last time he’d been sent flowers.

The morose memory cast a pall over his enjoyment of the flowers. Since he would still need to thank whoever sent them, he dug around between the long green leaves until he located a small white envelope. Pulling out the card, he skimmed over the messy script.

Andrew,

Daffodils signify new beginnings.

I’m hoping you will forgive my outburst

and allow us to start over.

Ryan

Andrew slipped the note back into its sleeve and laid it on the table next to the flowers. Maybe Ryan wasn’t so bad after all. It was possible that the guy was just having a bad day.

He needed to call Nick and see what his friend would tell him about the man. After he talked to Nick, he could decide whether to call and personally thank Ryan for the flowers or send him a brief thank-you note via USPS.

 

* * *

 

Ryan lay back in bed, staring at the plastered ceiling overhead instead of the TV currently playing some crappy show he’d never heard of. His mind awash with thoughts better left alone—like being by himself in bed before nine o’clock on a Friday night—he was trying to figure out what he’d been thinking when he filled out the stupid card he’d sent with the flowers for Andrew.

As first, he’d thought to send carnations. They seemed like a plain, I’m sorry for being an ass sort of flower. Not too showy or expensive. Then he’d thought roses, but decided they were too senior prom-ish. The daffodils, potted not cut, looked like a perfect in-between flower. Which would have been fine had he not over-thought the card and blurted out a bunch of shit about the meaning behind the flowers and wanting another date with the man.

His brain must have gone on vacation while he’d written the note. That or his dick had hopped out of his pants and suddenly learned how to spell.

That had to be it. He’d let his dick do his thinking for him. Otherwise he would have sent the flowers with a thank you for lunch card and let things lie.

What he needed was to go out and get laid. Then the thought of Andrew’s guileless, big blue eyes staring up him while Ryan fed the thick length of his cock into Andrew’s pretty pink mouth wouldn’t be so damn appealing. He was just horny. It didn’t have anything to do with Andrew. Anyone would do. Really.

This still didn’t explain why he was lying on his bed, bored out of his mind, and not out somewhere trying to have his itch scratched.

The phone beside his bed squealed, jarring him from his thoughts. Ryan leaned over and grabbed it off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Ryan? Andrew here, um, Andrew Vought. We had lunch together this afternoon.”

Years of practice being smooth fled Ryan’s consciousness. His palms grew slick around the receiver and his mind went blank. “Oh, uh, hi.” Great, now he sounded like a moron.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I got your home number from Nick because I wanted to call and thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

Think, idiot, think. “I’m glad you like them. It was the least I could do for snapping at you at lunch. I’m not usually so short-tempered.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So, anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to try again. Start over with a clean slate. Say tomorrow night, dinner maybe? You can even pick the place this time.”

“Sure. I, uh, I’m not sure which restaurant at the moment though. How about I pick you up around seven and it can be a surprise?”

“That would be great. I love surprises.” Andrew laughed and the delightful sound lanced over the phone line and straight into Ryan’s groin. He swallowed back a groan as his cock thickened, extending to half mast. The hand not around the receiver reached down to adjust his prick inside the loose sweatpants he wore. If Andrew’s laugh made him hard, he was going to be in for a hell of torturous ride tomorrow night.

Ryan’s hand slipped down to cup his balls, cradling them through nubby cotton, and squeezed. “Andrew?”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything you don’t like? I mean, is there anything you won’t eat?” If he said ass, Ryan was going to hang up on him.

“As long as you don’t intend to take me to an ice cream parlor, I think I’ll be fine.”

Ryan could hear the smile in Andrew’s voice but had no idea what the man was talking about. “Uh, ice cream?”

“Yes, I’m allergic to dairy.”

“Oh. Oh. The ranch on your salad, that’s why you were picking at it?”

“Yes. Listen, I have another call coming through and have to go. I assume you know where I live, since you had the flowers delivered?”

“Yep.” Ryan laughed. “I have your address and phone number. Matchmaking friends are good for something.”

“Okay. So just call me back if you can’t find it or something changes, all right?”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find it.”

“Great. Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“At seven,” Ryan replied.

“Right.”

“See you then.” Ryan hit the disconnect button and stared down at the phone in his hand. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to throw it across the room or kiss it.

Lying back against a mound of pillows, Ryan closed his eyes. On his shuttered eyelids, the scenario he wanted to take place the next evening began to play out.

He would take Andrew to dinner. They would sit in a dark, secluded booth and talk. Maybe play footsie and shoot sly glances full of promise at each other over their meal. At the end of the night, Andrew would invite him in and offer him coffee. Ryan would follow him into the kitchen, pin him against the refrigerator and steal a kiss. One long, wet kiss would lead into two and then three. Andrew would break away, his chest heaving under the exertion of his need, and beg Ryan to fuck him right there, standing up against the wall.

He pictured Andrew naked, with his chest pressed to the wall, his back arched and buttocks out. Fictitious Andrew pleaded with Ryan to take him, while reaching back to spread his cheeks wide in supplication.

Ryan’s fingers slipped under the drawstring waistband of his sweats and loosely ringed his swollen penis. Up and down, over and again. His fist grew tighter with each stroke, his thumb glancing off the groove just beneath the flared bulb of his cock head.

His free hand palmed his balls, rolling them, squeezing them ever so gently. They began to draw up, hugging the base of his prick, and Ryan changed his touch to a light caress. The soft, slack skin compressed and wrinkled, preparing his load for liftoff.

Faster, harder, his fist flew over the top few inches of his cock where he felt the most sensitivity. Pinpricks gathered at the base of his spine, shot down through the crack of his ass, his perineum and up into his balls, igniting a firestorm of sensation.

His cock pulsed, growing thicker in his hand. His balls clenched and contracted. Fireworks went off. Creamy white jets arched from the tip, spattering his abs and chest with come. Ryan gasped, still shaking from release, and pumped the last of his climax from his softening shaft.

Tomorrow he had a second date with Andrew. A chance to redeem himself.

This time he planned to check his preconceived notions at the door and try to get to know the man. They could actually hit things off, make his fantasy a reality. Stranger things had been known to happen.


Chapter Three

 

Andrew spent the better part of Saturday cleaning the house and running errands. Doing anything he could think of to keep himself from second-guessing his date later that evening with Ryan.

After talking to Nick the night before and listening to him go on and on about what a great guy Ryan was, he’d decided to bite the bullet and call Ryan to thank him for the flowers. The offer of a second date slipped from his mouth without a thought, almost like he’d been planning to ask him out all along.

With Katie still at her friend’s house, he’d called a couple of times during the course of the day just to hear her voice and reassure himself she was okay.

He missed the little twerp when she was gone. Without Katie trampling through the house, her cheerful voice chirping a mile a minute or her favorite TV shows blaring through the living room, the house felt cold and empty. Lifeless.

Although he was nervous, Andrew looked forward to getting out of the house and having an adult conversation about something other than kids and how to raise them. It was disheartening to realize that other than Jake and Nick, he didn’t really have any friends. Oh, he talked to people. People at the school fundraisers he volunteered for or other parents, but there was no one he could hang out with and just be himself.

Even Jake had started out as a school acquaintance. Both single fathers and new in town, they’d met at a school PTA meeting. Being the only single fathers there, and later finding out they were both gay as well, gave them enough in common to form a bond of friendship.

Lonely and in need of companionship, they’d tried to take their friendship a step further. Delve into an intimate relationship as well. Not long afterward, they’d found out they simply weren’t suited to ever be more than friends. It was a colossal error for them to have striven for more. They parted ways amicably and were able to stay friends, for which he was grateful. In a new town, with no one he knew and a young girl to raise on his own, he needed all the moral support he could get.

In the last few years, Andrew found himself in a dating rut. Actually, it was closer to dating Siberia. Jake, being the great pal he was and much more of a social butterfly, decided to take it upon himself to locate Andrew’s Mr. Right.

So far, Ryan was the best of the lot. And with that dismal thought, Andrew glanced at the clock and realized it was almost six. Ryan would be at his house in an hour and he hadn’t even showered yet. Unless Ryan had a fetish for the scent of bleach and other various household cleaning supplies, Andrew needed to scrub up before he got there.

Heading for the private bathroom located off the master bedroom downstairs, he ran a hand over his sparse five o’clock shadow. Might as well shave too, while he was at it.

Just because he didn’t plan on dropping his trousers didn’t mean he wouldn’t be interested in a hot kiss at the door. He’d need something to fantasize about when he crawled into bed alone and took matters into his own hands.

 

* * *

 

Ryan pulled up in front of Andrew’s house, a two-story Victorian, and killed the engine. It was a nice home, not too ostentatious, with cream-colored vinyl siding and black shutters. A cement walkway lined with newly budding flowers led up to an ornate front door made of multihued glass.

For obvious reasons, Ryan opted to drive his truck, an older model Ford, instead of his bike. It wasn’t new and it wasn’t stylish, but it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable for Andrew than clutching his back on the hog. Then again, maybe driving the truck hadn’t been such a bright idea. The thought of Andrew’s arms around his waist, his groin pressed right up against his ass while the engine rumbled and purred, vibrating underneath them, didn’t sound so bad. It sounded downright uplifting.

Snickering at his own corny pun, he pushed open the door and hopped out. He strode up the walk, his head held high, unruly hair brushed and tamed, his best ass-hugging jeans hanging just right.

Tonight would be great. He and Andrew would get along famously and end up in a sweaty tangle of limbs before morning. Everything would be perfect. It would. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, the butterflies eating through his stomach lining would go away.

He raised his hand to knock and ended up fingering the glass. Upon closer examination, the door was made from one regular pane of glass, rather than the stained glass he’d thought it was, but it looked like someone had applied several different colored and patterned do-it-yourself stain glass applications. The way the colors melded and the patterns blended together seamlessly was really quite good. It almost reminded him of the abstract art he’d done before giving up on his dreams of being a world-renowned painter and settling on more realistic goals. Like a career that would actually keep him clothed and fed.

He looked up to see the interior door swinging open. Pulling his attention away from the glass, he straightened as Andrew appeared, an amused smile on his face.

“You noticed the door, huh?”

“Yeah.” Ryan smiled, taking in the way the snug polo shirt Andrew wore stretched across his shoulders and outlined his well-defined pectorals. Ryan’s attention meandered farther down, appraising the creased chinos, and more importantly, the prominent swell of Andrew’s package beneath. “It’s really good. Did you do it?”

“No. I have no aptitude for art. Actually, the whole thing was Katie’s idea. I helped, of course, but she picked out the patterns. It was one of our little weekend projects. She’s really creative. I think I may have a future Picasso on my hands.” Andrew laughed. “I have no idea where she gets it.”

Curiosity got the better of Ryan. He was dying to hear the story behind how a gay man ended up with sole custody of a little girl. And where the kid’s mother fit into Andrew’s life now. “Her mom isn’t into art either?”

“Angie? Oh, no. Angie couldn’t draw a straight line without a ruler.” Andrew stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. “So, where are we going?”

“Oh, I thought maybe we could go to the Dairy King.”

Andrew stopped mid-step and looked at him curiously, a crinkle forming between his brows.

Ryan smiled. “I’m just kidding.” He ushered Andrew over to the pickup and opening the door for him. “There’s a great little Italian place over on 5th Street. They make a delicious marinara sauce. They even have a live band that comes in on Saturday night for dancing.”

Ryan circled around the front of the truck. “Sorry about the truck,” he said, as he slid behind the wheel. “It’s not so easy on the eyes, but it’s a lot more comfortable for two people than the bike I usually ride.”

“It’s fine,” Andrew replied. “So you have a bike?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind?”

Interesting. Maybe they had something in common after all. “You into bikes?”

“Some. I…well, I used to be. When I was younger.”

“Mine’s a 1948 Indian Chief. Rebuilt it from the ground up myself.”

“Damn. That’s sweet. You’ll have to bring it over one weekend so I can take it for a spin.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Damn. I forgot. I don’t have my bike license anymore. I never got it renewed after I moved here from New York.”

“How come?”

“Well, you know how things get. You get busy with life and whatnot and time just kind of catches up with you. I haven’t even thought about bikes in forever. I guess since before Angie died. She always loved to ride pinion whenever I came into town.” The last bit was said so low Ryan had to strain to understand him.

“Listen. I’m sorry if I brought up something painful. I didn’t mean to be so nosy.” Although it was killing him not to ask more about Angie, like what she’d been to him. Had she been a lover, his wife, what?

“No. It’s okay. Really. Little things just hit me sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand.” But he didn’t, not really. Ryan’s parents had passed away the year before, only six months separating their deaths. That had been tough, but it wasn’t the same as losing a mate. Ryan knew that, even if he hadn’t ever experienced love firsthand.

He’d never let himself get close enough to anyone to take a chance on love. Not emotionally. Physically, he’d gotten plenty close to plenty of people, but he’d never opened up. Too many years were wasted, club hopping, bed hopping. Fighting his sexuality by burying himself in one woman after another, just to prove he could get it up for the opposite sex.

Years wasted. And for what? So that he could eventually come out of the closet anyway, admit to himself that he was gay. He was thirty-one and had only been out for five years. All that time, he could have spent looking for his other half, and he’d pissed it away by trying to prove he was something he would never be.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Neither man made more than rudimentary small talk. Safe subjects like the weather or what kind of music they liked, when Andrew began to twist the radio dial searching for a good station.

When he pulled into the restaurant and got out of the truck, Ryan was relieved to have something to do besides think. He escorted Andrew inside and waited with him while the hostess searched out a table and guided them to it.

Their table was in the back, directly off to the side of the small dance floor. In the middle of the white tablecloth sat a vase holding a single, slightly wilted red rose. He hoped it wasn’t an omen of things to come.

 

All things considered, Andrew thought dinner was going well. Other than his depressing comment in the truck, he was happy about the way things were headed.

Their waitress came by to take their orders. Ryan ordered the manicotti and Andrew chose shrimp ravioli. Andrew started to order a bottle of wine, a nice merlot to complement their pasta, but Ryan declined, saying he didn’t drink, and ordered a sweetened iced tea instead.

Andrew brushed it off and ordered a glass of wine. It was probably just as well that Ryan didn’t drink. One of them needed to be the designated driver.

As the waitress scurried off to fill their order, Andrew turned to Ryan. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, why don’t you drink?”

Ryan sat back against his chair and was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to decide what to say and what not to. He shrugged. “Alcoholism runs in my family. I guess I always thought it was better to be safe than sorry later, you know?”

“You don’t mind if I indulge though, right? I can always change my order if it bothers you.”

“No. You’re fine.”

During their meal, they kept up a steady stream of small talk. Nothing important really, but he did manage to learn some minor things about Ryan. What TV shows he liked and other trivial bits.

Every so often he caught Ryan shooting a lusty glance at his shrimp. He swirled a bit of it around his fork and speared a shrimp and held it out to Ryan, offering him a bite.

Ryan groaned, shaking his head. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m allergic to shellfish. One taste and I’ll swell up like a blowfish.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Andrew replied, a little discouraged his attempt at flirting hadn’t worked out like he’d intended.

His gaze milled around the restaurant, looking at other couples relaxing together, enjoying each other’s company. That was what he wanted, to be part of an “us”, part of a couple.

When his wandering attention returned to his date, he found himself under Ryan’s scrutiny. Andrew smiled and nodded toward the room. “People-watching,” he said in way of explanation. “It’s kind of a bad habit of mine.”

“No problem. I catch myself doing the same thing.” Ryan’s gaze roamed out onto the dance floor. “We could dance?”

“Err, that’s all right. I’m not much of a dancer.” In truth, he had two left feet, both of which liked to trip him up and send him tumbling straight onto his ass. He could do without that embarrassment.

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” Ryan wheedled.

“No, I couldn’t. Really. I can’t dance, never learned how.”

Ryan grinned. The dim light caught his whiskey-colored eyes just so, making them appear to deepen enticingly. “It would give you a great chance to check out my ass.”

“That’s okay.” Andrew laughed. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Are you sure? I have a great ass. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Andrew couldn’t control the snort of laughter that burst free. God, he hadn’t laughed this hard in who knows how long. It felt great.

He reached across the table and patted Ryan’s hand. An electric shock tingled up his arm, starting a slow burn that wound its way straight to his groin and set up camp there.

His gaze flew up to Ryan’s, checking to see if he’d felt it too. Ryan stared back at him, his eyes glazed and hot, full of the same desire Andrew felt swimming through his veins and filling his shaft to full hardness.

Andrew yanked his hand back. Resisting the impulse to adjust his penis, he placed both of his hands on his lap and held them immobile. “Whoa,” he whispered to no one in particular.

Silence reigned for a moment, the static electricity arcing between them until Andrew’s self-control hung by a thread. He really, really wanted to jump the table and take a bite out of Ryan. See if he tasted half as good as he looked.

Ryan licked his lips, his wet, pink tongue moving sensuously over the expanse of his bottom lip. Andrew’s mouth watered. Unconsciously, he leaned in toward Ryan.

“Anything else I can get y’all?”

Andrew jerked back, his gaze shooting to their perky waitress as she approached their table.

“No,” Ryan replied, saving Andrew from having to speak over the knot of desire in his throat. “I think we’ll just take the check.”

She laid their check face down on the table, along with two red and white mints, before hustling off.

Andrew glanced at his watch. It read half past nine. Still early. He wondered if this was it, or if Ryan had something more planned for their evening out. He grabbed one of the mints and busied himself with unwrapping it.

“So,” Ryan said. “You want to get out of here?”

And do what? he felt like asking. He didn’t dance. Ryan didn’t drink. Clubs were pretty much out of the question. What else could two gay men do on a Saturday night?

Hot, sweaty sex?

Andrew shut down that train of thought quick. No sense in going there and getting himself all riled up when it wasn’t going to happen. There was a huge stereotype about all gay men screwing anything they could get their hands on. Not him. He wanted a monogamous relationship, wanted to find someone to love and be loved by in return. The empty sex he’d indulged in during his college days simply wasn’t enough anymore.

Andrew sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Sure. It is getting a little late. I guess we should call it a night.” He didn’t really want the evening to end so soon, but what other option did they have?

 

Ryan took his time driving back to Andrew’s house. He wasn’t in a hurry for their date to end and wanted to postpone the inevitable for as long as he could.

Though definite chemistry had flown between the two of them in the restaurant, ever since they’d left, Andrew had been a little cool. Not more than a handful of words passed between them in the last fifteen minutes.

He wondered if he’d done or said something wrong, or if Andrew simply had a case of nerves. He was feeling a few of those jittery, “will he, won’t he” vibes himself. Would Andrew invite him in, or thank him for the evening and promptly say good night at the door?

Finally, they reached Andrew’s home. Ryan killed the engine and cut off the lights. They sat in complete silence, cocooned inside the truck’s cab, their only illumination from a nearby street light that flickered on and off.

Nervous anticipation skittered through Ryan’s gut. One of them had to say something, break the tension growing stronger by the second, or he would blow up.

“So I guess—”

“Would you like to—?”

Both men spoke at the same time. Ryan laughed, relieved that he obviously hadn’t been the only one trying to come up with something to say.

“Sorry,” Andrew said. “Go ahead with what you were saying.”

Err. He’d hoped Andrew would go first. What he had been about to say sounded entirely more pleasant than Ryan’s intended, “I guess I’d better go” comment.

“I was just going to say that I had fun tonight and hope we can do it again sometime.” There. That sounded better. And it left Andrew an opening to invite him in, just in case that’s what he’d been about to say.

“Me too,” Andrew replied.

Awkward silence returned with a vengeance. Damn, he sucked at being subtle. Everything inside him shouted for him to skip the talking and get onto the good stuff. To whisk Andrew up out of his seat and kiss him senseless until there was no way he would be able to turn Ryan away.

Which was precisely why he hadn’t gotten laid since quitting the club scene the year before. Being suave was out of his range of experience. In the clubs, he was in his element. Everyone there was on the prowl for sex. If you were subtle, you ended up being overlooked and ignored.

He released his seat belt and twisted around to face Andrew. Ryan gnawed his lower lip, indecisive about how he should respond. Trying to charm his way into Andrew’s pants wouldn’t work. He wasn’t any good at it, didn’t know the first thing about how to be charming. All he knew how to do was be himself.

Andrew unlatched his seat belt and laid his hand over the door handle. “Well, I suppose this is good night, then.”

Moonlight filtered through the back window, creating a soft, fuzzy illumination which backlit Andrew’s strong silhouette.

This was it.If he didn’t make his move now, he would lose his chance. Andrew would get out of the truck and go inside.

“Fuck it,” Ryan murmured under his breath. Either Andrew liked him or he didn’t. He couldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

Ryan leaned across the seat and palmed the back of Andrew’s neck, burying his fingers in the short, downy hair at his nape. Andrew jerked around, his eyes wide. His lips parted, whether to blast Ryan for his advances or to give him permission Ryan didn’t know and he had no intention of waiting around to find out. He swooped in, smashing his lips over Andrew’s.

Andrew’s back stiffened. His lips softened under Ryan’s but remained unresponsive. Unheeding, Ryan tilted Andrew’s chin and ran his tongue over the seam between Andrew’s lips. He nipped at the sweet flesh of Andrew’s bottom lip, trying his best to coax him into returning the kiss.

His frustration mounting, Ryan pulled back. “Damn it, kiss me back,” he whispered, their mouths a fraction apart.

Andrew groaned, the sound vibrating up through his chest and pressing out against Ryan’s moist lips. Then Andrew was moving, no longer an inanimate bystander but a participant, as his face shifted up and his lips parted under Ryan’s.

Ryan took full advantage and slipped his tongue through Andrew’s lips, past the barrier of his straight, white teeth, and flicked his tongue against Andrew’s. Hot and wet, the inside of Andrew’s mouth tasted like sweet ambrosia.

Andrew responded, licking back against him. He caught Ryan’s tongue and dragged it deeper into his mouth, sucking on it like it was a cock.

One of Andrew’s arms rose, wound around Ryan’s neck and tugged him closer. The other settled against his right pec, kneading the tense muscle through thin cotton.

Ryan growled, wanting more. He pushed himself tighter against Andrew until they were hip to hip on the cool leather bench seat and swung his left leg between Andrew’s thighs. Ryan pressed the stiff ridge of his cock into Andrew’s hipbone, letting the man feel how damn hard and swollen he was.

Ryan was going to implode. Andrew tasted so sweet and felt so damn good in his arms. And his cock throbbed so fucking bad. All Ryan could think of was the need for relief from the relentless ache growing in his balls and the sharp, shooting pulses he felt jumping up and down the length of his shaft.

He dropped his hand into Andrew’s lap and ran his fingers over the protuberance of Andrew’s cock. Ryan traced the impressive length to the tip and squeezed. Andrew jolted, a tremor shaking his body. The arm around Ryan’s neck lowered, his palm coming to rest on Ryan’s shoulder. Going by Andrew’s response to his touch, Ryan let go of Andrew’s prick and reached for the button on Andrew’s khakis instead.

Andrew stiffened and shoved against Ryan’s chest. “Stop.”

Ryan swallowed back the curse wanting to slip from his lips and sat up straight, looking intently at Andrew. The other man’s jaw was set in a grim line. Dark splashes of color across his cheekbones betrayed his heightened desire. Eyes narrowed into vivid blue slashes beneath winged brows and a bleak expression marred his chiseled features.

His chest rising and falling under the exertion of each labored breath he drew in, Andrew whispered, “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Ryan asked in disbelief. “Why? You can’t tell me you aren’t just as into this as I am. You’re as hard as a fucking spike.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just…” Andrew sighed and slumped back in his seat. “Listen, I’m not saying I wasn’t right there with you, but I’m just not into casual sex anymore. It’s dangerous and stupid, and I have a little girl to think about and…” His voice trailed off as he shrugged.

Ryan sucked in a deep breath, willing his hard-on to go away or at least quit straining against his fly. The zipper was biting into him and it didn’t feel very damn good. Probably what he got for going commando. His mind was busy with other things, like trying to wrap itself around what Andrew had just told him.

Not into casual sex. What was he, a girl?

Shit. That wasn’t fair. There was nothing wrong with being choosy about who you slept with. Hadn’t he quit going out and picking up men for the very same reasons?

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Andrew continued. “I do. Damn, do I ever. But I need something more now, you know? I want to actually get to know someone before taking them to bed.”

Ryan didn’t know what the hell to say. His tongue felt like it was broken right along with his dick, which was currently cramped up and contorted in the tight confines of its denim prison.

Andrew laid his hand over the door handle, this time pushing it down into the ready position. Ryan followed the movement with his eyes, assuming Andrew wanted to be ready to make a quick getaway at any moment.

Ryan didn’t want him to get out of the truck thinking he was an asshole who only wanted sex. He wanted to fuck Andrew, he wouldn’t deny that, but he wanted to get to know him too. Andrew was only asking to rearrange the order of things a bit. Do the get-to-know-you thing first, and then they could screw. It would only be a big deal if Ryan made it into one.

Andrew pushed open the door, turning on the overhead light. Ryan blinked, temporarily blinded.

“Andrew, wait.”

“Yeah?” he said, without turning to face Ryan.

“I know what you’re saying, man, and I can respect your wishes. You just caught me a little off guard, is all. I really would like to, um, get to know you too.”

Andrew looked back at Ryan over his shoulder. “Really?”

Ryan sighed at the thought of all the cold showers he would be taking in the near future. “Yeah, really.”


Chapter Four

 

Ryan’s eyes adjusted to the change in light as he and Andrew left the dark theatre. Jake and Nick tagged along behind them, their arms around each other, oblivious to the curious stares they were getting from people standing in line at the concession stand.

It was no wonder they were being stared at with the way they carried on, pinching each other on the ass and cackling about it like teenagers. Not to mention the way they were dressed. Nick wore skintight, black leather pants and a matching vest. Jake had on similar pants, only in a weird shade of brown, paired with a flowing white poet’s shirt. They made an odd couple, with Nick’s impressive height, musculature and buzz cut, and Jake’s dainty, almost impish features, topped by a mop of wild chestnut curls.

Ryan glanced over at Andrew, who shot him an imploring look, his gaze darting back at their friends as if saying “do something”. After the last few dates they’d been on, he’d quickly come to realize that Andrew didn’t like public displays of affection any more than he did.

“Hey, Hansel and Gretel, how about you save the kissy-face shit for later?” he yelled back at them, before smiling over at Andrew and shrugging.

“Hansel and Gretel?” Nick laughed. “Where’d you come up with those names? Couldn’t you come up with anything better?”

Ryan shoved open the glass door and stepped out into the chilly night, holding it open for Andrew before answering Nick. “Nope. I think those names fit you both to a T.”

“Oh yeah?” Nick spun Jake off his feet and slapped a noisy kiss against his partner’s lips. “I guess that makes you Gretel, little buddy.”

“Fuck you,” Jake replied good-naturedly. “You’d only be Hansel because you’re as big as a fucking ox.”

Ryan saw Andrew shake his head before starting toward his SUV, leaving Ryan to trail along after him. Since there wasn’t enough room in his truck, and Jake and Nick both drove small cars, Ryan had picked Andrew up at his house and from there they’d driven his vehicle. There was more room in Andrew’s Explorer so no one had to worry about having their knees crushed in the backseat.

After Andrew released the door locks, Ryan slid into the passenger seat. He watched as Andrew climbed behind the wheel and the odd duo hopped into the back.

Andrew started the engine and cranked up the heat, rubbing his hands together in front of the vent. “So, where to now, guys? It’s only nine and I have the sitter until at least midnight. She said she would be happy to stay later if I wanted.”

“We could go to The Silver Spur,” Nick chimed in from the back.

Ryan glanced at Andrew, curious to see his reaction to Nick’s suggestion. Andrew just cocked an eyebrow and asked, “What’s The Silver Spur?”

Ryan snorted. “It’s a gay bar.”

Andrew turned around in his seat to face the men in the back. “I don’t think so, guys. Ryan doesn’t drink and I’m not much on dancing. How about somewhere else? We could go somewhere and get a bite to eat.”

“Come on, Andrew, it’ll be fun,” Jake said. “Besides, I remember when you used to dance for me. Your moves are nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ryan noticed the nervous glance Andrew shot his way. Now wasn’t that interesting. He turned around to ask Jake what he meant and saw Nick punch Jake in the shoulder. Jake punched him back and then they were in each other’s arms, kissing, too wrapped up in each other for him to drill Jake about what he’d meant.

Ryan faced Andrew. “I thought you said you didn’t like to dance?”

Jake pulled away from Nick. “He doesn’t. Not in public anyway.”

“Jake,” Andrew groaned, “shut up.”

“No. This is interesting,” Ryan argued. “Keep talking, Jake.”

“Yeah, Jake, keep talking,” Nick concurred, with a leer at Andrew.

Andrew swallowed. “It’s not a big deal. Not even worth talking about.”

“Peanut likes to strip. Don’t ya, peanut?” Jake laughed.

Andrew twisted around and glared at Jake. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you, jackass.”

“Peanut?” Ryan asked Jake. Andrew liked to strip? His cock woke up and thumped against his fly. Now that had some exciting possibilities. Damn alluring, judging by how quickly he went from flaccid to able-to-pound-nails-into-cement hard.

Not so hot was the realization that Andrew and Jake had been an item at one time. He was concerned about how long it’d been since that changed, and how serious things had been between them. Had it been a fling, or something long term? The very idea of Andrew with anyone else irritated him.

Andrew answered before Jake could. “It’s a dumb-ass nickname Jake came up with. If you start using it, I swear I’ll hurt you.”

“He loves to watch all those cartoon specials during the holidays, you know? Made me sit and watch all of them with him and the kids. I thought peanut sounded like a better nickname than Rudolph.” Jake cackled.

So things were apparently serious enough for Andrew to introduce him to Katie. The inordinate amount of jealousy he felt over that bit of info aggravated the hell out of Ryan.

He and Andrew had been on a handful of dates, necked like horny teens at the end of every one, but Ryan had yet to be invited inside Andrew’s home. How long would they have to be together before he got to meet the kid? For that matter, how long would it be before Andrew let him do more than heavy petting?

He shifted around to ask Andrew about the stripping comment, stopping when he noticed the deep red hue of Andrew’s cheeks. Was he actually blushing? He was. And how cute was that? Sympathizing with him, Ryan decided to cut him some slack and not press him for an explanation. He could always drag it out of Jake later if Andrew wouldn’t fess up.

“No offense,” he said, changing the subject, “but I don’t want to spend the rest of my Friday night sitting in a parking lot. So, where are we going?”

 

Andrew chugged back his fourth—or was it fifth?—shot and grimaced as the tequila burned its way down his gullet. The sting was minor compared to his first drink, so he knew he should probably stop while he was ahead. Much more and he’d be toasted. When you stopped noticing the nasty taste, it was a safe bet you’d had too much.

He slammed the shot glass onto the surface of the scuffed table and sat back against the booth, gazing out over the crowd around him. Music pulsed loud and alive through the dimly lit club. Every few moments a revolving light lit up above the huge dance floor and puked light over everything beneath it, before winking out and casting the room back into dancing shadows. Couples frolicked with abandon, men together, women together, grinding and bumping up against each other to the thump of bass.

Jake and Nick had disappeared almost as soon as they’d stepped through the door an hour earlier. Ryan stuck by his side, though most of the people they saw, from the bouncer to the bartender plus what he guessed were regular patrons, had called out to Ryan by name and asked where he’d been hiding himself for the last six months. Apparently Ryan was a regular himself. Or he had been, up until half a year ago.

During one of the several dates they’d been on in the past month, Ryan had mentioned that he used to frequent bars and clubs. He’d mistakenly thought Ryan meant when he was younger, like in his twenties, not as recently as the previous fall.

Now Andrew sat alone at the single empty booth they’d found upon their arrival, and stared out into the crowd, wondering where Ryan had disappeared to. Thirty minutes before, he’d claimed he needed to use the john, but it didn’t take half an hour to relieve yourself.

Andrew was beginning to think he’d been abandoned. In fact, he was starting to get pissed off about it. Shuffling his butt over to the edge of the booth, he was in the process of getting up when Jake slid into the opposite side of the booth and picked up the beer he’d ordered and then left sitting upon arrival.

Jake lifted the longneck bottle and took a long pull off it before wincing and banging it back down on the table. Andrew raised an eyebrow at him.

“Warm,” Jake replied.

Andrew glanced back out into the crowd, searching for Ryan’s face among the throng of partygoers.

“He’s dancing with Nick.”

Andrew turned back to Jake. “What?”

“Nick spotted him coming out of the restroom and snagged him out onto the dance floor.”

“Oh,” he said, too low for Jake to actually hear him over the music, as he leaned back against his seat.

Jake bent forward over the table between them. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think Nick has the hots for your boy out there.” He nodded toward the dance floor. “No real reason I say that, mind you. Just a hunch, really, what with the way he sings Ryan’s praises and all.”

Andrew flagged down a waitress and ordered another shot. He already had a nice buzz going, but what the hell. He never got drunk. Tonight was as good a time as any to start.

“Have you slept with him yet?”

Andrew closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For someone who was supposed to be his best friend, Jake could sometimes be a gigantic pain in his ass. “We’ve been dating for a month; what do you think?”

“I think you haven’t, which is dumb as shit. The man’s a fox. I’d fuck him.”

“Who wouldn’t you fuck?”

Jake pointed to an overweight man halfway across the room with a bad toupee. “Him,” he said, laughing.

Andrew chuckled. Leave it to Jake to make him laugh when all he really wanted to do was glower.

“Why don’t you go out there and cut in? Steal your man away from Nick and have a good time for a change. Who gives two shits about what all these drunken idiots think of your moves? Just get out there and make an ass of yourself.”

“Gee thanks.” Andrew tipped up the last of his drink. “Way to make me feel better, asshole.”

“You know what I mean. Go do your thing, peanut.”

He returned the newly emptied glass to the table and scooted out of the booth. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he looked down at Jake and smiled crookedly. “I think I will.”

“Good for you. Go get him, peanut.”

“Shut up,” Andrew replied over his shoulder, already shoving his way through the crowd. He had no idea where Ryan was, but he would find him.

God, he was tired. So sick and tired of playing it safe, of being a responsible adult in a world that idolized youth and all the immaturity that came with it. It seemed he’d been an adult since before birth. Even straight from the womb he and Angie had shared for nine months, he’d been the one to come out first, the oldest by five minutes, and the child his parents expected to be mature.

Andrew weaved around bodies left and right. He spotted Ryan and Nick slightly ahead of him and off to the right. Ryan had his head thrown back, laughing uproariously at something Nick was busy whispering in his ear. Breathing a sigh of relief at having finally found them, he shuffled forward. Then he noticed the way Nick shifted closer to Ryan, his hands falling to cradle Ryan’s hips as they moved to the music, and molten anger shimmered through his veins.

How dare he? How dare Nick rub all up against Ryan, like some bitch in heat? And why was Ryan just standing there, letting him do it? The bastard.

Andrew took a wobbly step forward, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. A man the size of a small mountain stepped into his path, blocking his view of Ryan. He stopped, ready to tell the guy to move the hell out of his way, and looked up, and then up some more. Damn, the guy was tall.

At six feet, Andrew wasn’t used to having anyone tower over him. Sure, some guys were taller than him. Ryan was an inch or two taller. But this guy, God, he had to be close to seven feet or more. He tried to step around the man, only to be stopped by the Amazon’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“How about a dance, pretty?” The man’s voice was gruff and scratchy, like maybe he’d smoked one too many cigarettes. His words didn’t sound like a question, more like an order. Normally that would’ve ticked Andrew off. He didn’t like being bossed around. Tonight, however, it sent a little tingle of excitement shivering down his spine.

Andrew leaned to the side—almost tipped over, before he could catch his balance—and glanced around the goliath. Ryan was still absorbed in Nick’s sparkling wit, or whatever the hell it was he found so entertaining.

He turned to the goliath. “Sure.” What the hell. It wasn’t as if his date would mind. The bastard was too busy letting Nick hang all over him to pay any attention to what he was doing.

“Bud,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Andrew accepted the shake and watched his hand disappear inside the larger man’s paw. “Andrew.”

He started to pull back his hand, but found it trapped in the vise-like grip of Bud’s closed fist. Bud smiled, the upward tilt of his thin lips taking away some of the severity from the chiseled planes of his face, and gave Andrew’s hand a sharp tug. Pulled off balance, Andrew stumbled forward, his face smacking into the middle of the behemoth’s sternum.

Bud’s gigantic forearms closed around his back and pulled him up tight against him. Andrew held himself stiffly, not aiding but not exactly resisting either, as Bud began to sway to the beat of the music. Against his cheek, he could feel the steady thumpedy-thump of the man’s heart beating. Every granite muscle in Bud’s torso flexed and rippled as he shimmied them back and forth.

The song seemed to last forever before it finally began to slow to its end. Andrew let out a breath of relief, glad the dance was over. The arms around him loosened and he sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the pungent scent of sweat and cheap cologne.

It wasn’t a bad smell, just not the one he wanted. Not like Ryan. Ryan always smelled of woodsy cologne with a hint of the underlying musky testosterone that exuded from his pores.

He mumbled a hushed thanks to Bud for the dance and spun around, intent on finding Ryan. He didn’t have to look far. Ryan stood a couple of feet behind him, his hip propped against the wall, a glower on his handsome face and fire in his eyes. With his arms across his broad chest and his jaw clenched tight enough to grind nails, Ryan did not look happy. He looked mad as a wet cat, and that put a spring in Andrew’s step as he strutted over to him.

“Who was that?” Ryan barked out as soon as Andrew got close enough to hear him over the music.

For spite, he glanced back at Bud and waved. “Oh, that’s just Bud,” he answered as nonchalantly as he could. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, trying to pop out, but he restrained it.

Ryan humphed and came up off the wall. He moved in close, so close Andrew could count the individual black eyelashes framing his eyes. “If you can dance with Bud,” he said, spitting out the other man’s name as if it left a vile taste in his mouth, “then you can dance with me.”

Andrew shrugged. “I guess so.”

Ryan must not have liked the response because his eyes flashed a deeper shade of brown and the grinding of his teeth started up again. The smile Andrew had been fighting broke free and spread across his face. He couldn’t help it, seeing Ryan jealous was so sweet. It more than made up for the brief bout of insecurity he’d felt upon viewing Ryan and Nick dancing together.

“You little shit,” Ryan muttered, hauling Andrew into his arms and up against the lean contours of his body. “You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”

Andrew rested his arms on Ryan’s shoulders and sank his fingers into the soft hair at the base of Ryan’s neck, kneading the taut muscles. With a contented sigh, he shifted himself a bit deeper into Ryan’s embrace, resting his cheek against Ryan’s stubbled one. “So what if I am? It’s what you deserve.”

Ryan’s arms tightened around the small of Andrew’s back and he began to move, swaying his hips, taking Andrew’s body along for the ride. Their groins brushed together with every pass, allowing Andrew to feel how hard Ryan was for him. He swallowed back a groan, feeling his own cock stir at the contact.

Fingertips grazed the rise of his bottom. Andrew shivered, clenching his ass cheeks to stop the needy ache he felt inside.

Ryan must have felt the tremor pass through his body, must have felt their pricks rubbing together as Andrew did, because the riled expression in his eyes wavered and was replaced by something that looked a hell of a lot like more like hunger than aggravation.

Ryan’s breath was warm and moist as it wafted over his ear. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve seeing you all cuddled up with that dumb-ass lumberjack. Not when you hadn’t even agreed to dance with me yet.”

Andrew rotated his hips, pressing in a little harder against Ryan, dragging their pricks together and teasing them both in the process. “I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?”

A growl rumbled through Ryan’s chest. Andrew felt the vibrations more than heard it, and damned if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

“You know what I mean,” Ryan grumbled.

“Yes, I know what you mean. Just like I know while you were supposed to be in the bathroom, you were actually dancing with Nick.”

“I went to the bathroom, Andrew. Nick caught me as I was coming out. That’s all.”

Andrew felt an irrational surge of the same anger he’d experienced earlier at seeing Nick latched onto his man. “He was hanging all over you.”

Wait. Had he just thought of Ryan as his man?

“He was only talking to me, baby.” Ryan paused, his lips feathering over Andrew’s cheek. “I do think it’s cute that you’re so jealous though.”

“You’re one to talk,” Andrew replied.

Ryan sighed, blowing hot air over Andrew’s ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Andrew shivered, goose bumps of arousal popping up all over his skin. He let go of Ryan’s neck, ran his hand between their bodies and gave Ryan’s nipple a sharp twist.

Ryan jerked his head back. “Hey! That hurt.”

Andrew smiled and snuggled back into place. “It wasn’t supposed to feel good.”

“Then why the hell did you do it?”

“You were asking for it.”

“I didn’t ask you to twist my damn nipple off.”

“I was hoping it would refresh your memory. Do you still not know what I meant?”

“About what?”

Andrew pinched Ryan’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger and cocked an eyebrow.

“All right, all right, I might have been a tiny bit jealous when I saw you dancing with the marshmallow man over there.”

Andrew grinned. “Marshmallow man?” That’s not how he would’ve described Bud.

“Yeah, marshmallow man.” The petulant look on his face warned Andrew not to contradict Ryan’s description, though Bud’s body was anything but soft.

He snorted and leaned in to rub his cheek on Ryan’s shoulder. Who would have thought he would actually like a touch of possessiveness in a lover? He never had before, but then again, none of the few men he’d been with were Ryan. The man could make anything, even jealousy, look good.

“What? You have a thing for big, brainless meatheads now? You know his balls are probably the size of small acorns because of all the steroids he’s taken, right?”

“No, I have a thing for tall, cute landscape architects, who ride motorcycles and get jealous at the drop of a hat.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm–hmm.” He leaned up and pressed his lips against Ryan’s, oblivious to the party going on around them. For once in his life, he didn’t care if he was putting on a show. All he knew was Ryan and the chemistry and warmth sparking between them like static electricity, the delicious press of their chests and the desire he saw mirrored back to him through Ryan’s eyes. “Know where I can find someone like that?”

“Oh I might be able to think of someone,” Ryan murmured against the corner of Andrew’s mouth.

Ryan’s lips covered his, not with pressure but with a gentle coaxing sensation that melted Andrew’s knees and forced him to incline against Ryan’s chest for support as their lips, teeth and tongues dueled, heedless of the spectators around them. The roof could have caught fire and he wouldn’t have cared. All he wanted was more. More of Ryan, more of that one single moment when everything began to slide into place and he realized what he felt for Ryan was growing in leaps and bounds. Steadily spinning away from like and well on its way to another four letter word that should have scared the shit out of him, but surprisingly didn’t.

Love.


Chapter Five

 

Behind the wheel, Ryan listened as Andrew called and talked to Katie’s sitter. Hearing a brief chorus of yeses, noes, and thank yous from Andrew’s side of the conversation, he had no idea whether or not the girl agreed to stay overnight with Katie.

Andrew clicked his cell closed and sighed loudly. He grinned. “She said yes.”

“Thank God,” Ryan said in relief. If she’d said no, his dick was going to cry. Just the fact that Andrew had agreed to come home with him and hadn’t yet changed his mind at some point during the ride had him hard as iron and ready to burst through the seam of his pants. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d ever been so damn horny.

Andrew practically vibrated beside him, bouncing around in his seat, seemingly unable to sit in one place for more than a second before he was twisting and turning in another. Apparently Andrew was feeling the urge as bad as he was.

Did Andrew prefer to top or bottom? They’d never gotten around to discussing it. Sex hadn’t seemed like a good subject to broach when he hadn’t thought he’d be able to get any. Kind of the same philosophy as the signs the zoo posted, the ones that warned people not to tease the animals. He hadn’t wanted to get his cock’s hopes up for nothing.

Now though, after having dropped off Nick and Jake, they were swiftly on their way back to his condo, where a cushy bed and the prospect of mind-numbing sex awaited them. It would be good, of that he had little doubt. As hot as Andrew got him from only being in the same room, it would be damn great. Fantastic. Perfect.

Ryan preferred to top. Had, in fact, refused to let anyone fuck him in the past. Though for Andrew, he thought he might be willing to make an exception. As hot as he was, he would take Andrew however he could get him.

Andrew’s hand landed on his thigh, not more than six inches from the source of his discomfort. The heat from Andrew’s palm soaked through the denim of Ryan’s pants, making his skin tingle and his balls ache like a festering tooth. He spared a glance at Andrew, saw him undo his safety belt and lean across the console, a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I help you with something? I’m trying to drive here.” Ryan hated the slight squeak he heard in his voice as Andrew’s hand moved up farther. His fingers spanned out over his upper thigh, a scant millimeter away from his balls.

Andrew leaned in, his mouth so close to Ryan’s ear that he felt Andrew’s lips move before words spilled from his mouth. “Don’t need any help. I think I can figure out what to do on my own.”

He nipped at the lobe of Ryan’s ear. A prompt flick of Andrew’s tongue soothed away the sting, but started up a chain reaction in Ryan’s body that caused him a lot more hurt than a little love bite ever could. He’d gone past the point of blue balls. If he didn’t come soon, his balls were going to turn purple and fall off. He just knew it.

“Andrew!”

“Hmm?” Andrew whispered, his mouth creeping down the side of Ryan’s neck, planting hot, firm kisses over every available inch of skin he could possibly reach. His fingers, his bad, bad fingers traveled higher, walked right over Ryan’s aching balls and cupped them.

Andrew!

“What?” Andrew pressed a lingering kiss at the corner of Ryan’s mouth. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Stop.”

Andrew kneaded his balls. Not hard, but with enough pressure to wring a groan out of Ryan. “Why?”

“I’m going to run us into the ditch, that’s why.”

“No you won’t,” Andrew said, his hand on the move yet again, deftly working open the button and pulling at the tab of Ryan’s zipper. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

With Ryan’s pants gaping open, nothing stood in the way of Andrew’s fingers as they slipped inside and zeroed in on his cock, folding around the shaft and carefully maneuvering it out into the open air. Freed from the constraint of denim, his prick surged up another inch, throbbing in ecstasy at the extra room to expand and at the tight, firm grip of an unfamiliar hand ringing him.

“Shit. Stop, Andrew, I mean it. There’s no way I can drive while you’re doing that.”

“Sure you can. You just have to concentrate really hard.”

Andrew squeezed the base of Ryan’s prick and he moaned, the hoarse cry echoing through the vehicle. Andrew shifted and Ryan felt a second hand come into play, wrapping around his cock head and palpitating. The first let go of his shaft and palmed his balls, kneading a bit before moving on. A finger slipped down to rub over his perineum, the very tip whispering over the entrance to his body.

Ryan stiffened, his hole fluttering in response to Andrew’s gentle touch. He pushed down on the gas pedal and sped the vehicle up. Only a few more miles and they would be home.

The fingertip pressed in on him, applying pressure, but wasn’t quite long enough to enter his ass. It was simply there, teasing him, trying to kill him.

Oh God. Oh shit. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to come all over himself before he even got to touch Andrew.

He gritted his teeth and bit his lip, gripping the steering wheel so hard he was surprised it didn’t pop in half. Road signs passed in a blur as he drove more from memory than sight. One more turn, thirty seconds, and he would be pulling into the parking lot.

Up ahead, his building came into view. He swung into the parking lot without touching the brakes, the tires squealing in protest at the sharp right turn. A blunt thumbnail lightly scraped across the tip of his dick, like a match to dry tinder, and Ryan was finally, finally able to hit the brakes and come to an abrupt stop.

Before he finished throwing the gearshift into park, Andrew was kissing him, eating at his mouth like he was his last meal and he intended to savor every nibble. Ryan struggled blindly with the steering wheel, tilting it up and out of the way, and he scrambled up, never letting go of Andrew’s mouth.

Crawling onto his knees, he turned, pushed Andrew back into his seat and came across the console after him. Andrew’s eyes widened and his pulse jumped at the base of his neck. He licked his lips and Ryan knew exactly what he wanted.

One knee perched on the console, Ryan reached down and gripped the base of his dick. He leaned forward, angling his hips down, and nudged Andrew’s pretty pink lips with his cock. Andrew’s eyes met his, his mouth opened, tongue lolled free, and then Ryan’s dick was being vacuumed into the hottest, wettest mouth on earth. Andrew’s cheeks hollowed out, and he sucked, hard.

Ryan’s eyes fell shut, his hips jerked, and he was coming. “Fuck! Andrew, I’m gonna…”

His orgasm started in the base of his neck, zipped through his extremities and pulsed in thick jets of fluid right out the tip of his cock before he could finish his warning.

Andrew took it in stride, swallowing down his essence without complaint and suckling at his still hard cock until every trace of release disappeared.

Large, misty blue eyes stared up at him in wonder from above the turgid length of his stalk. He should have been spent, completely drained and getting sleepy, but his cock stayed hard, insatiable for more of Andrew. The blowjob was nice, fan-fucking-tastic, but it wasn’t all he wanted. He needed Andrew under him, writhing and moaning, screaming his name as he found his own completion.

He cupped Andrew’s cheek, shivering as he watched his engorged flesh pull free of Andrew’s clinging mouth. He tucked himself back into his jeans and leaned down to softly kiss Andrew. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Andrew said with a mischievous grin.

 

Between kissing and sneaking quick feels of each other through their clothes, they somehow managed to make it up two flights of stairs to Ryan’s apartment, though how they actually got there was a heated blur to Andrew.

His back hit the wall outside of Ryan’s front door. The cold surface cooled his backside, even as Ryan pressed against him, heating him from the front. And then they were at it again, mauling each other, kissing and touching, humping with abandon as if the thick layers of clothing they wore were obsolete.

Ryan’s hot mouth ran down his neck, busily sucking up a mark at the base, while Andrew panted, trying to catch his breath. Attacking Ryan in the vehicle hadn’t been his wisest decision, but he didn’t regret it. Touching Ryan, tasting him—like he’d fantasized about for weeks now—had given his hunger a sharp razor edge, heightening it to the point of pain.

Ryan tasted as sweet as he’d known he would, even better really, and he wanted more. Needed everything Ryan had to offer with a fierce craving that demanded remuneration.

A cold hand slipped under his shirt, rubbed over the sensitive skin of his lower back and wormed its way into his Dockers. Ryan’s hips rocked forward, pressing their dicks together, as he squeezed one of Andrew’s ass cheeks.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Ryan whispered into the curve of his neck, his tongue lashing over Andrew’s skin. “Let me? Please?”

Sharp teeth sank into the cord of Andrew’s neck. He flung his head back, striking the wall, uncaring about the sting to the back of his skull. “Yes. Oh God, yes!”

Ryan’s heat disappeared. Andrew raised his heavy eyelids to see what the problem was. In front of him, keys in hand, Ryan stood grinning. “Don’t you think we should take the rest of this inside, or do you have a kink for this kind of thing? After the car, I’m starting to think you do.”

“Shut up.” Andrew grabbed Ryan by the belt loops and yanked him forward for another kiss. With his eyes shut, Andrew heard keys rattling and the door slam back into the wall as Ryan shoved it open.

“Shit,” Ryan muttered against his lips before pulling away and tugging on Andrew’s hand. “Come on. Get your sweet ass in the apartment before I end up fucking it out here.”

He followed Ryan through the door and into a large, open room made up of white ceramic tile, white walls and glass. Two walls were nothing but unlined windows leading out onto a balcony. Glass shelves lined the remaining walls. Glass end tables framed a huge white leather sectional couch in the middle of the room. Directly in front of it sat a huge flat-screen television. The only things in the room that looked slightly personal were the books on the shelves and the painters’ easel sitting off in a corner by itself.

He didn’t get the chance to look at anything else because Ryan was up in his face, claiming his lips, and what the man’s home looked like was the last thing on Andrew’s mind. He was more concerned with stripping down the owner and having his way with him. From the way Ryan’s hips shifted, restlessly pumping against his thigh, he didn’t think Ryan was perturbed by his single-mindedness.

Clothes began to hit the floor. With an almost collaborative mindset, they let go of each other, leaving only their lips loosely connected, and began to tug things off. Andrew kicked off his shoes, fought with his belt before finally wrangling his shorts and pants down over his hips. Naked from the waist down, his body on fire for consummation, he stepped back from Ryan’s scrumptious mouth and yanked his shirt over his head.

Equally devoid of clothing, Ryan stood before him, all long limbs and fluid muscle. Moonlight drifted in through the windows, casting a golden hue over his tanned skin. Broad shoulders tapered down into a narrow waist and trim hips. Beneath firm pecs topped by fat copper nipples was the ripped, washboard surface of his stomach. His hipbones jutted out, framing a perfect V that led Andrew’s eyes to his thickly veined prick, which projected out from his body, too heavy under its own cumbersome weight to stick straight up.

Ryan opened his arms and Andrew went into them. Their lips connected, tongues coming out to frolic together. Ryan being a few inches taller than Andrew made the fragile skin of his sac push into the base of Andrew’s cock, gloving it, as their hard shafts rubbed together, creating an easy friction with each thrust of their hips.

Ryan’s arms wound around Andrew’s back, his hands cupping and kneading his buttocks as Ryan began to walk backwards down the hall, leading Andrew away from the living room. Andrew blindly followed, trusting Ryan.

He felt himself being turned in another direction and went with it, too busy ravishing Ryan’s mouth to open his eyes and look. The back of his knees hit something and his eyes popped open. He scarcely had a chance to see the bed behind him before he was shoved down onto it and Ryan was crawling on top of him, resuming the frantic mating of their lips.

Jerking his hips up, he pushed his cock alongside Ryan’s. They rutted against each other, their mouths connected and sharing oxygen as they both panted. Forcing his hand down between their bodies, Andrew grabbed hold of Ryan’s prick and squeezed, pumping his fist up and down the turgid rod. Ryan groaned and rolled off of Andrew. He stretched out, leveraging his long body across the bed to reach into a small nightstand on the opposite side.

He didn’t pay attention to what Ryan was doing above. His gaze was too riveted on the flex and play of muscle in Ryan’s torso to care about anything else. He reached out and trailed his fingers over the depression between Ryan’s hard pecs, following the satiny smooth skin down over chiseled abs to the delicate skin between his hipbones. There the skin grew thinner, more fragile, and was as smooth as the finest silk. He traced the thinning line of hair to the base of Ryan’s heavily veined cock, which was surrounded by a thick matt of downy curls.

He ran his fingertips through the springy hair and lightly tugged, bringing Ryan’s attention back to him and off of whatever he’d been doing above. Only then did he notice the condom and small flip-top bottle of lube Ryan had retrieved.

The reality of the moment hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. He was really going to allow Ryan inside his body and they were going to make love. Andrew’s heartbeat stuttered and his breath caught in his chest. This was it.

Ryan scooted back down to where Andrew lay on his side and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. He pulled Andrew against him and cuddled, his lips feathering kisses on the side of Andrew’s face. “I probably won’t ever forgive myself for giving you an easy out, but are you sure you want to do this?”

Overwhelmed, Andrew could only nod. His throat was inexplicably clogged by the care Ryan showed in asking such a question. He tilted his head up and kissed Ryan, silencing any further questions he might have asked. Ryan eased the kiss deeper, plunging his tongue into Andrew’s mouth and gliding it over and around Andrew’s own.

Sight unseen, he took the condom out of Ryan’s hand and tore it open. By touch, Andrew figured out which way it went and rolled it down Ryan’s stalk, mutely urging Ryan to give him what they both needed so bad. Just to get his point across—that he was through waiting—Andrew fisted Ryan’s cock, pumping back and forth, dragging his closed fist up and down the lubricated latex.

Ryan was so hard, so hot, in his hand. What would he feel like inside him? Would he be a gentle lover—take his time and prepare him first—or would he be rough and force his way into Andrew’s body?

Ryan’s pelvis arched up, seemingly of its own volition, and thrust into Andrew’s hand. Before he could establish a rhythm, Ryan’s hand covered his own, stopping him.

“Enough. It’s my turn now.”

Ryan pushed him to his back. His mouth blazed a trail of hot, moist kisses over his collarbone and down his chest. Andrew closed his eyes, arching into Ryan’s touch, as his nipples were laved with the flat of Ryan’s tongue. Always sensitive, his nipples crinkled and drew up tight as one and then the other was tormented by Ryan’s softly abrasive tongue. Andrew writhed on the bed, his mind insensate as his hips rocked back and forth, all the nerves in his body at attention.

Awash in sensation, he barely heard Ryan flip open the cap on the lube and squeeze out a slippery dollop of the fluid. He did feel the cool liquid and Ryan’s warm fingers brush through the valley between his buttocks. A wide finger nudged his anus and Andrew stiffened, freezing more out of instinct than thought.

“Easy, baby, just let me loosen you up a bit.”

Ryan’s husky voice whispering in the dark was better than a muscle relaxant. Andrew took a deep breath and willed his body to open, to let Ryan in. The insistent finger slipped inside, breaching the portal with little resistance. A second finger worked its way in beside the first. Andrew gasped at the slight burn of unused muscles being forced to spread.

It had been so long…

The digits inside him twisted, plunging in and out before they disappeared, leaving him empty and aching to be refilled. “Ryan. Please. I need…”

Ryan moved above him, crouching between his splayed thighs. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m going to give you what you need.”

“Please, Ryan. Now.”

Ryan’s hands on him were gentle as he gripped Andrew’s bottom and parted his cheeks. Andrew watched as Ryan took hold of his latex-sheathed prick and lined it up with the entrance to his body. He felt the blunt head probe at his hole, exerting pressure, and inhaled, pushing out. The wide flare of Ryan’s cock popped through the defiant ring of muscle. Andrew cried out, whimpering at the delicious burn and pull of Ryan inside him. His hands fisted in the coverlet, holding on while he waited for the final shove that would seat Ryan completely within him.

Letting go of Andrew’s ass, Ryan bent down, putting all his weight on his arms at either side of Andrew’s head, and kissed him. “Ready?”

“Yes. God, yes. Just do it. Fuck me.”

Andrew lifted his legs and wrapped them around Ryan’s hips. Ryan buried his face in the curve of Andrew’s neck, his respiration fast and choppy, and thrust home.

“Ryan!”

Buried to the balls, Ryan held himself still while Andrew tried to adjust to the huge battering ram shoved inside him.

“Oh God, Drew. So hot, so tight. You feel so damn good, baby.”

Andrew booted Ryan’s ass, trying to get him to move, to do something to make the ache, the intense pressure, go away. He was so close, needed to come sooo bad. It wouldn’t take much to send him over. “Move! Fuck me, damn it.”

Ryan chuckled, the vibrations in his diaphragm echoing down and through his cock, straight into Andrew’s stretched and burning hole. Andrew whimpered, rocking his hips up, trying to assuage the need clawing at him. He squeezed down, clutching Ryan’s hard flesh with his rectal muscles.

Ryan moaned as his pelvis jerked backward and surged forward, dragging his swollen cock through sensitive, nerve-rich tissues. In and out, on and on, he rapidly plunged into Andrew. Every thrust grew rougher, more frantic.

Ryan twisted his hips, changed his entry, and his cock brushed over Andrew’s gland. Andrew bucked, crying out as his balls drew up and all the muscles in his groin locked down. Fire licked over his scrotum, his back arched, and he came and came and came some more. The contractions went on unabated, driving him to the brink of sanity. Ryan went rigid above him, his cock growing impossibly bigger, and then he was coming as well.

 

Ryan rid himself of the condom, tied it off and pitched it into the wastebasket near his bed. He rolled to his side and took Andrew with him, snuggling Andrew’s head into the crook of his arm. “Damn. That was…” He searched for a word, but couldn’t come up with anything that would describe the mind-blowing experience they’d just shared. He settled for “Wow.” Maybe when all the blood in his lower body rejoined his brain he would be able to do better. Until then, “wow” would have to suffice.

Andrew chuckled against his neck. “Yeah, I would say wow describes things just fine.” His lips pressed a quick kiss against Ryan’s rapidly cooling skin.

It was still getting a bit chilly at night and, once again, he’d forgotten to turn on the heat in his apartment. Ryan wiggled around until he found the edge of the quilt on his bed and could tug the end over them. Cocooned in the cover with Andrew wrapped around him like a clinging vine, Ryan settled back and floated in the moment. Life didn’t get much better than this.

The tenor of Andrew’s voice broke through Ryan’s tranquility. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you decorate this place or did it come furnished? I mean, uh, it’s nice and all, but it doesn’t really look like you.”

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, I said the same thing when I saw it. My kid sister, Lisa, is majoring in interior design in college and begged me to let her do the place when I bought it last year. I made the mistake of agreeing. She chose pretty much everything in the place except for the TV. That was my doing. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious I guess. So you just have the one sister?”

“Yep. It was just me and Lisa. What about you?”

“No. I, um… Well, my twin sister, Angie, passed away a few years ago.”

Angie? Wasn’t that the name of his little girl’s mom too? “I’m sorry. That must have been rough. If you don’t mind my asking, how did she pass?”

“A drunk driver sideswiped her car one night when she was on her way home from work.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Andrew replied, burrowing into his side. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you anyway.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Not at all. I’ve just been wondering where Katie’s mom is, and why she isn’t helping you out. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention her.”

Andrew squirmed around until Ryan lifted up and let him have his arm back. He propped himself up on it and stared down at Ryan with eyes shrouded in misery. “Angie, my sister, is Katie’s mom. When she died, she left me custody of Katie.”

Well, that certainly solved that mystery. “What about her dad?” Andrew winced, causing Ryan to rephrase his question. “I mean her biological father. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Angie never told me who Katie’s father was. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure she even knew. I always got the feeling Katie was the product of a fling, you know? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter now. I love Katie as much as any blood parent could. She’s my daughter.”


Chapter Six

 

Spring changed to summer and school let out. Katie was home twenty-four/seven, which made spending time with Ryan damn near impossible.

Andrew was at his wit’s end, trying to work his and Ryan’s relationship around his life. They had now been together for almost four months, and he figured the time had come to move their relationship along. It was time to introduce Ryan to Katie.

Thinking it would be less awkward, Andrew arranged to have a barbeque at his house, inviting only Ryan and a few select friends. Mostly people Ryan and Katie both knew and would feel comfortable around. Though he didn’t plan to explain the ins and outs of his and Ryan’s relationship to Katie, just introduce him as a friend, somehow having other people around felt less conspicuous.

He was afraid if he simply brought Ryan home with him one evening, it would lead to questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Questions about the birds and the bees and why Daddy didn’t like birds as well as other bees like him. Katie was far too young for that talk. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to give it. By his estimation, Katie would be ready for the sex talk sometime around the year she hit thirty. Maybe not even then.

It did make him wonder how other single parents could carry on a private life without letting their kids in on it. He knew some people didn’t have a problem with running a never-ending stream of partners past their children, but he wasn’t one of them. Katie having a stable and loving home, devoid of myriad “uncles” passing through, was more important to him than his own social life. To his way of thinking, what with losing her mom and then being saddled with her clueless gay uncle, Katie had been through enough. As her only parent, it was up to him to see that she was protected and sheltered.

Hence, the reason she had yet to meet Ryan. Now that he’d made his mind up about introducing them, he was terrified they wouldn’t get along. He prayed he wasn’t moving things too fast and making a mistake by letting Ryan meet her.

Ryan had no experience with kids, he’d admitted as much himself, and while Andrew knew he’d be on his best behavior around Katie, there was still the fear that they would hate each other. If that turned out to be the case, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Katie was his world, and Ryan was steadily worming his way right into the same stratosphere.

Which was one of the reasons his palms were sweaty and his knees shook as he scrambled around the kitchen making sure things were ready. He glanced down at his watch. Almost eleven-thirty. People were due to start showing up any time now. He’d told everyone twelve, but he knew better than to expect half of them not to show up early.

The night before, he’d stayed up late baking a cake for the grownups and cupcakes for the kids. Hotdogs and hamburgers were on a tray in the fridge, waiting to be grilled. He’d bought a tub of potato salad from the market. He’d never been any good at making things that didn’t have a set recipe. Anything that called for a dab or pinch of something was beyond his meager cooking capabilities.

While he added a bit more multicolored sprinkles on top of the cupcakes, Katie darted into the kitchen, a tiny whirlwind of motion in a pink shorts set with a unicorn on the front of the tee. She stopped beside him, her fingers reaching out to make a pass through the chocolate icing he’d only then finished spreading over the cake. Andrew caught her hand mid-swipe and wiped it off with a dish towel.

“No sweets until you’ve eaten something else.”

“Aw. You’re no fun, Daddy. Becky’s mom always lets her lick the bowl.”

“Do I look like Becky’s mom?”

Katie giggled and made another swipe at the icing. “No, silly, you’re a boy.”

“Ah-ah-ah.” Andrew laughed, catching Katie under the arms and swinging her away from the cupcakes. “Don’t you remember what happens to bad little girls who don’t listen to their daddies?”

“No,” she said, squirming and giggling, though they’d played this game for years. “What happens?”

Andrew growled and blew a raspberry on her cheek. “The tickle monster gets them.”

Katie squealed in peals of laughter and wiggled harder. “No. No, Daddy, I’m too old for the tickle monster!”

Andrew ignored the fake protest and started tickling Katie under her arms, where she was the most ticklish. Katie dropped to her side on the floor, rolling up into a wiggly ball of giggles.

“Stop, Daddy. I’m gonna pee.”

Grinning like a loon, Andrew quit tickling Katie and pulled her off the floor. Once he had her on her feet, he smacked her on the bottom and pointed toward the living room. “Why don’t you go watch some cartoons until Shawn gets here? Then the two of you can go outside and play.”

Luckily enough, it was Jake’s weekend to have Shawn, his eight-year-old son. He planned to bring him along to give Katie someone closer to her own age to play with.

“Okay,” she said over her shoulder, running off to watch whatever cartoons were on. Andrew was glad he’d had the satellite installed. There were a lot more cartoon channels to keep Katie occupied with than there were on regular cable. He didn’t know when the local channels had stopped playing cartoons on Saturday morning the way they had when he was a kid. Hearing the theme song for SpongeBob echo through the house, Andrew smiled and turned to put the finishing touches on lunch.

 

Ryan parked behind Jake’s Honda and blew out a nervous breath. He didn’t see Nick’s beat-up old Mazda, so he must have ridden with Jake or Bobby. Everyone was already inside, doing whatever people did at a barbeque.

Cannibalistic butterflies ate at his guts, chowing down on his insides while he worked up the nerve to get out of his truck. He didn’t know why he was so antsy; it was only one little girl he was supposed to meet. Everyone else he already knew and liked. That was the crux of the problem right there. What if he didn’t like the kid, or she was a spoiled brat who took an instant dislike to him? Andrew loved his kid and Ryan knew that if it came right down to it, he would be the one given his walking papers. He was falling in love with Andrew, so making a good impression with his kid was paramount.

This was why he’d stopped on his way over and picked up a stuffed animal, though the detour made him arrive later than he would’ve liked. Kind of the same principle as bringing flowers for someone’s mother, really. Instead of flowers, he’d bought the kid a pink stuffed elephant. Hopefully it wasn’t too immature a gift for a nine-year-old. He’d looked at Barbie dolls and some of the other crap, but there had been so many different things. And he didn’t know beef from bullshit about what a girl would like. The elephant seemed like a safe bet at the time. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Brushing off his insecurities, Ryan opened the truck door and hopped out. He walked over to the passenger side and leaned in through the open window to grab the pot of cocktail wieners and barbeque sauce he’d made for the potluck and the stuffed animal. Shoving the elephant under his arm, he started up the walk.

The door was open so he walked on in, his gaze taking everything in. From where he stood in the foyer he saw stairs leading up to the second floor on his right, a sunken living room decorated in shades of blue off to his left, and what looked to be a kitchen with white terracotta tiles straight ahead. Muted noises of people laughing and a dog barking floated on the air.

Ryan headed in the direction from which the noise came, the kitchen. Entering the room, he noticed an open back door. Everyone must have been outside. He set down his dish and approached the door. Looking out, he saw Andrew and Jake by a large brick grill, arguing over the best way to line up the charcoal. Bobby and his girlfriend, Sherry, were sitting at the picnic table, laughing up a storm as they pointed at Nick and two little kids who were rolling around on the grass with a tiny, fuzzy, tan-colored puppy.

He guessed the little girl was Katie, though he wouldn’t have been able to pick her out of a line up as being Andrew’s child. She looked nothing like him. Andrew had light blond hair and vivid blue eyes. His daughter had deep brown pigtails and big amber eyes. Even their skin tone was different, Andrew’s being peaches and cream and Katie’s closer to Ryan’s own tan complexion. The boy was obviously Jake’s son. He was the spitting image of his father with curly chestnut hair and impish gray eyes.

He must have made a sound or something because Andrew turned from his discussion with Jake and spotted him standing in the doorway. A smile spread across his face. He lifted a finger at Ryan, motioning for him to wait where he was for a minute, then turned and said something to Jake while pointing at the kids. Jake glanced over his shoulder at Ryan, a Cheshire cat grin on his face, and nodded. Andrew handed him the bag of charcoal he was holding and began to stride toward Ryan.

“Hey,” Andrew said, pushing Ryan deeper inside the room while nudging the back door closed with his hip. “I didn’t think you were ever going to get here. Everyone else showed up half an hour early, while the one person I wanted to see most comes strolling in almost an hour late.”

Andrew pushed him back against the closed door and kissed him. What started out as a slow and easy “hello” kiss quickly morphed into a raging inferno. Ryan teased Andrew’s tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, emulating what he’d rather be doing to his sweet prick. Andrew pulled back, his chest heaving, and placed his hands on Ryan’s chest to stop him.

“Not here. The kids are outside.”

“You started it. You little tease.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just missed you. Feels like forever since we’ve had any time alone.”

“Yeah.” Ryan bent to pick up the elephant he’d dropped to the floor in his quest to swallow Andrew’s face. “Listen, I’m sorry I’m late. I thought I should bring something for Katie, but then I got in the store and couldn’t make my mind up about what to get.” He held out the stuffed animal. “Do you think this is okay, or is it too hokey?”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. She’s going through a pink phase.” He shook his head, smiling. “Absolutely everything has to be pink. If it weren’t so nauseating, it would be cute.”

“I’ll bet,” Ryan said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, um, I know you said I didn’t have to bring anything, but I thought since everyone else was… Anyway, I’m not much of a cook, so I just did cocktail weenies. Hope that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that fine. Great, actually; no one else did those. Why don’t you carry them out to the picnic table while I grab some more starter fluid? Jake’s determined to go through a case of the stuff before he actually manages to start a fire.”

“Yeah, well, uh, I’ll just go outside then.”

“’Kay, I’ll be out there in a sec.”

Ryan grabbed his wieners and walked outside, leaving the elephant sitting on the counter. He assumed Andrew planned to introduce him to Katie at some point and he didn’t want to take the stuffed animal outside and take a chance on getting it dirty before he had the chance to give it to her.

He approached the picnic table and set down his offering. Bobby leaned over and lifted the lid, peeking inside, while Ryan straddled the bench opposite him and Sherry.

“Hey, Ryan,” Sherry said with a small smile. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” Ryan’s attention diverted to Bobby, who was in the process of plucking a sausage out with his fingers. He swatted Bobby’s hands away from the dish. “Get your grubby mitts off that. No one wants to eat something you’ve stuck your fingers in. It’s hard to tell where they’ve been this morning.”

Bobby grinned and sat back down next to Sherry, wrapping one of his beefy arms around her. “Aw, come on, man. I’m starving and I just love those little wieners.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me, bud.” Ryan laughed and Bobby turned three shades of red when he realized what he’d said.

From that point on, Ryan loosened up and actually found himself enjoying the barbecue. When the meat was grilled and everybody lined up to fill their plates, Andrew finally pulled him aside.

Andrew must have seen the pulse jump in his neck, because he leaned in as they approached the kids and whispered, “You ready?”

“I guess so.” Ryan chuckled. “Who would have thought I’d be so nervous about meeting your kid?”

“She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t bite. Much.”

“Very funny, Mr. Comedian.”

“Katie, Shawn, come over here. It’s time to eat and you two need to go in and wash up. You have puppy slobber all over you.”

“Daddy!” Katie ran up and threw her arms around Andrew, practically knocking Ryan out of her way to get to her dad. “Shawn’s puppy is so pretty and cuddly. Can I have a puppy? Can I, please? I’ll take extra good care of him and I’ll—”

Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. Ryan watched the byplay between father and daughter with thinly disguised amusement. He could remember driving his dad crazy asking for a dog too. Though his reasons for not getting a pet had more to do with their family not being able to afford another mouth to feed, even a canine one, as opposed to whatever possible reason Andrew was reluctant to buy her a pet.

“We’ve already talked about this, Katie. We don’t need a dog right now. Maybe we can get one in a couple of years, when you’re older.”

“Daddy! You’ve been saying that forever. When will I be old enough?”

“Not for a couple of years yet, sweetpea.”

“But, Dad—”

“Not right now, sweetpea. We’ll talk about it later. Now, come on over here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Dragging her feet through the grass, Katie trudged over toward them.

“Katie, this is my friend Ryan.”

“Hi,” she said, holding out her little hand. “My name is Katie Rhiannon Vought. It’s nice to meet you.”

Impressed, Ryan bent down and gingerly shook her tiny hand. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Katie. Your dad talks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

Ryan nodded. “Yep.”

“What does he say ’bout me?”

“Oh, well, just how lucky he is to have such a special little girl and how pretty you are.”

Katie fluttered her lashes up at him and tucked in her narrow shoulders, as if she were embarrassed by the compliment. Ryan snickered at her coquettish act. From what he’d seen so far that afternoon, there wasn’t a bashful bone in the kid’s body.

“Katie, take Shawn into the house and wash your hands. After you eat, there are cupcakes waiting for you. And, Katie, I believe Ryan left a present for you inside on the counter.”

“A present?” she squealed, her eyes lighting up.

She ran over to Shawn where he was petting his dog, and latched onto his wrist. “Come on, Shawn. We gotta go clean up. Dad says we have dog cooties.”

Ryan rose to his feet, watching as the kids ran toward the house. He distinctly heard Shawn telling Katie that puppies didn’t have cooties. Only girls had those.

“Great kid,” Ryan said, looking at Andrew.

“I know, right?”

The two of them wandered over to the table and fixed plates for themselves. Ryan sat down and ate, keeping an eye on Andrew while he fixed a plate for Katie and made sure she was settled before joining him.

Everybody, including Ryan, made pigs out of themselves on the good food. When he went back for thirds, he didn’t feel even a twinge of hoggishness. It had been awhile since he’d had a good home-cooked meal. Most of the time he lived on takeout or microwavable stuff.

His plate clean, his belly ready to bust, Ryan stretched and yawned. He looked around for Andrew and spotted him standing next to a tree, watching Nick and Jake throw horseshoes. Katie and Shawn were a little ways behind them, content to play with the puppy. Ryan felt a zing of pride when he noticed Katie held onto the toy he’d bought her and was showing it off to the dog.

Ryan strolled up to Andrew and leaned against the tree beside him. “I think I need to use the little boy’s room myself.” Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Want to show me where it is?”

Andrew laughed. “Yeah, just let me get Jake to keep an eye on the kids while we’re inside.”

In the blink of an eye they were in the house, in Andrew’s bedroom, and Ryan had Andrew shoved up against the wall, devouring his mouth with all the pent-up desire he’d stored up since they’d last seen each other.

He hoped now that he’d met Katie, Andrew would let him come around more often. Surprisingly, it would even be okay if they couldn’t do anything sexual. Over the past few months, he’d come to realize just being in Andrew’s presence, talking and hanging out, was more gratifying than fucking someone else. He truly enjoyed being around the man.

Andrew sucked on his bottom lip, nipped it with the sharp edge of his teeth, and Ryan groaned, no longer thinking about anything but the warm, hard body rubbing up against him and the intoxicating flavor of Andrew’s kiss. He reached around and grabbed two handfuls of prime cut, grade A ass, and squeezed. Andrew must have liked that because his hips rocked forward, pressing his long, hard cock right into the cradle of Ryan’s pelvis, and ground against him. His cock was engorged and throbbing, begging for the touch of something other than his own hand. Something only Andrew could provide.

Without a care for the world around them, Ryan dropped to his knees and started working at the buttons on Andrews button-fly khakis. He absently wondered if the man ever wore anything other than slacks. And then he wasn’t thinking, because Andrew’s pretty pink cock was shooting up through the opening in his fly and Ryan was swallowing him down.

He dug his tongue into the tiny slit in the head and savored the bittersweet drop beading there. Andrew grabbed the back of his head, his fingers twining in his hair, as he thrust his cock deeper into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan groaned around the smooth, spongy flesh and sucked him in, taking him all the way to the back of his throat before moving up. Again and again, he shuttled Andrew’s prick in and out of his mouth. On the upstroke, he laved the tender depression beneath Andrew’s helmet with his tongue. On the downstroke he licked and swirled his tongue over the puffy blue vein running down the underside of his shaft.

Every groan that spilled from Andrew’s mouth was a sweet benediction. Ryan could do this forever. Spend the rest of his days on his knees, loving Andrew with his mouth.

Love? Oh, shit! Could what he felt actually be love? Was he in love with Andrew?

The implications of what he was feeling pointed to yes. Ryan’s pace slowed, his suction all but stopping. He glanced up at Andrew, who stared back down at him, his face flushed and his beautiful blue eyes heavy. That single look was all it took for him to know. Fuck. He was in love with Andrew.


Chapter Seven

 

Ryan let Andrew’s cock slip from between his lips. He studied the moist, gleaming appendage with regret before turning his attention to its owner. An incredulous expression appeared on Andrew’s face when he realized Ryan had no intention of taking it back in his mouth, but he didn’t say anything.

Never one for beating around the bush, Ryan desperately wanted to tell Andrew what was on his mind. He just had to figure out how to go about doing it. Ryan knew Andrew had feelings for him; he simply wasn’t sure what those feelings were. Having only then realized he was in love with Andrew, Ryan yearned to say the words out loud, but was afraid of what Andrew’s reaction would be. His timing was shitty, but that couldn’t be helped. The emotions bottled up inside him were too strong to ignore.

Ryan opened his mouth, ready to throw his feelings out on the table. “Andrew, I—”

A loud bang hit the side of the house, interrupting him. Andrew cursed and jerked away from him. Ryan stood and watched as Andrew hastily stuffed his dwindling erection back into his pants.

“Shit. I have to go see what that was.” He shot a sympathetic moue at Ryan. “We probably shouldn’t be messing around in here right now anyway.”

Slightly miffed about having his confession cut short, but trying his best to be understanding, Ryan sighed. “I know. Um, about that bathroom though…?”

Andrew pointed to a closed door on the back wall. “You can use mine. It’s right behind you.” He pressed a fast, chaste kiss on Ryan’s lips and hustled out of the room.

“And aren’t you just smooth?” Ryan said aloud to the empty bedroom as he walked into the bathroom and relieved himself. “Try to tell someone you’re in love with him and he runs out of the room like his ass is on fire. Way to go, me.”

Exiting, he looked around Andrew’s bedroom. Everything was decorated in shades of beige and navy blue. The king-size sleigh bed and matching nightstand and dressers were made of cherry and gleamed with polish. Atop the bureau sat a bottle of the cologne Andrew favored, a small, clear jar with change in it and several framed photos of different sizes. They were mostly of Katie at varying ages but one in particular, near the back, caught his eye.

Picking up the heavy silver frame, he studied the image of a younger Andrew and a young blonde woman who had to be Angie, since she was practically the female version of Andrew. Angie’s arm wrapped around Andrew’s waist and his lying across her shoulders, they smiled cheerfully into the camera. Both had the same color hair and eyes, the same tall and athletic build. The only difference he could discern was their nose. Andrew’s was a tad on the large side, with a tiny hump in the middle, while Angie’s was smaller and tip tilted. She also had an abundance of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks that Andrew lacked.

Something about her nagged at Ryan’s subconscious. Andrew’s sister looked really familiar to him. He studied her features closely, thinking maybe it was simply the way she favored Andrew that struck a chord within. A chill crept down Ryan’s spine and he realized why she looked so familiar. Angie was Angela. A quick, one-night stand he’d participated in over a decade before. His eyelids drooped as he remembered picking her up in one of the seedy bars he’d frequented.

Her face probably would have blended into the mix with the other women, all but for the night he’d slept with her being New Years Eve and the resolution he’d made the next day to quit going through women with the same speed he went through underwear. She hadn’t been his last one-night stand, but being with her had marked the end of him screwing someone different every night of the week.

High on life and down on himself for the attraction he had to one of his male coworkers at the time, he’d slept his way through half the female population of the county. All the while, trying to convince himself he wasn’t gay, that a female could get him off just as easily as his late-night jerk off fantasies, all of which featured tight male bodies and even tighter male asses.

Needless to say, it hadn’t worked. And now here he was, in love, and thanks to his randy youth, about to fuck things up for himself royally. He would have to tell Andrew he’d slept with his sister. Wouldn’t he?

Then again, as he stood staring down at the picture in his hands, he remembered that Angela was gone, long dead, and couldn’t tattle on him. If he didn’t confess, Andrew need never know. Right? Things could continue as they were and no one would be the wiser. Keeping silent meant he wouldn’t have to worry about risking Andrew’s affection.

He couldn’t abide lying most of the time, didn’t see the point in it, but this seemed like the one exception to the rule. The truth would only hurt everyone involved. There was no telling what Andrew would think or do if he knew about Ryan’s impulsive night with his sister. And Ryan simply wasn’t willing to chance it. For the first time in his life, he was in love; he wasn’t about to open his yap and fuck it up.

Ryan walked out of the house and into the bright afternoon sun, his mind made up about keeping quiet, and headed for where Andrew stood admonishing Katie for throwing the basketball against the house. The stiff way Andrew stood, his back ramrod straight and his chin tilted up, screamed of his aggravation more than the gentle scolding he was in the middle of delivering.

Ryan stood a little off to the side, not listening to the words so much as watching father and daughter interact. Once again, he noticed the differences between the pair. The mismatched build and coloring. Katie really didn’t take after Andrew and Angela. Not in the slightest bit.

Katie’s shoulders slumped. He saw her bite into her bottom lip, sucking the entire thing into her mouth until only her teeth cutting into the tan skin beneath was visible. An inkling of something gnawed at him. Remembrance? Recognition? Whatever it was, it flashed in and out of his mind so quickly he couldn’t quite latch onto it.

Then it hit him. Lisa used to do that very thing when she was a kid. Their dad had picked on her, telling her that her lips would stay that way if she kept doing it. The same mannerism Katie had, Lisa had.

His mind spun. Small details began to mount and add up. Andrew had said he didn’t know who Katie’s father was. That she could have been the result of a one-night stand. Then there was her coloring, the dark hair and not-so-prevalent whiskey-colored eyes, her propensity for art. Did that mean…? Could she possibly be…?

Katie was nine. He had no idea when her birthday was, but even without it, the timing was too damn close for comfort.

He spun around, his thoughts chaotic and full of turmoil. Distantly, he heard someone call his name, but he couldn’t stop. He had to get out. Had to leave. Now.

 

A little over an hour later, after finally being able to run off the last of his guests and having talked Jake into letting Katie stay the night with Shawn, Andrew was able to make his way over to Ryan’s apartment. Ryan running off the way he had, his face pale and drawn, had Andrew’s insides twisted in a knot. No matter the problem, or how scared he was of finding out what had happened, he knew he wouldn’t be able to let go of his concern until he found out what was going on.

He approached Ryan’s door with the same dread with which someone would cross a minefield. On the other side, Ryan waited with the answer to his questions.

He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung inward before he had the chance to beat on it. Ryan stood in the partially open doorway, a pair of track shorts slung low on his hips. His eyes were bloodshot and a clear bottle of vodka was clutched in one fist. His free hand clenched the door’s lip and inched it open a tad more. “Come on in. I’ve been watchin’ for ya. Knew you were bound to show up sooner or later.”

Andrew stepped around Ryan, the strong stench of liquor invading his nostrils, and entered the apartment. He heard the door close behind him and turned to see Ryan tipping back the liquor.

“What’s with the vodka, Ryan? I thought you said you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t.” Ryan stumbled past him and flopped onto the couch.

“Then what’s with the liquor? The last I checked, no one’s yet invented non-alcoholic vodka.”

Ryan waved his bottle at the couch beside him. “Sit down, Drew.”

Hearing Ryan’s nickname for him, the one he usually only used when they made love, had Andrew taking a seat. He perched on the very end of the couch and propped his elbows on his knees.

“What’s going on, Ryan?”

Ryan stared at him for a moment, the lines of his face grim. “What’s Katie’s birthday?”

“Huh?”

“When’s Katie’s birthday?”

“September twenty-ninth. Listen, I don’t know what Katie has to do with this, but…”

Ryan closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate on something. One hand ticked off numbers as if he were adding math in his head.

His behavior was just weird.

Ryan’s hands clenched. The one not wrapped around the bottle balled into a fist. His eyes popped open and zeroed in on him. “Do ya have a picture of her?”

“Why, Ryan? Whatever is going on with you has nothing to do with my daughter.”

“Do ya?” Ryan repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Get it out.”

“Ookaay.” Andrew pulled out his wallet and rifled through it, coming up with Katie’s school picture from the previous fall.

Ryan held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

Andrew handed him the picture. Ryan studied it as if the photo held the answers to the mysteries of life.

“What’s this about? I thought things were going fine. Or I did, until you took off like you were being chased out.”

Ryan handed Andrew back the picture, Katie’s cherubic face pointing in Andrew’s direction. “Look at the photo, Drew. What do you see?”

“I see Katie, my daughter. What are you trying—?”

“Wrong,” Ryan bellowed. “You see my daughter.”

Huh? It was a good thing Ryan wasn’t a big drinker, because he certainly wasn’t making any sense at the moment. “Ryan,” Andrew said, not even trying to mask his exasperation, “it’s obvious you’re upset about something, so I’m trying to be patient, but I’d really like to know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Here.” Ryan pushed the liquor bottle at him. “You’re gonna need this.”

He took the bottle and set it on the end table beside him. Ryan was talking in riddles and obviously didn’t need any more. “I’m not drinking. I think you’ve drunk enough for the both of us. Now, what the hell’s going on? And what does it have to do with Katie?”

Ryan slumped back against the sofa and stared at him, his eyes full of something Andrew didn’t want to think of as grief. “Do you ’member how you told me you didn’t know who Katie’s father was? How she was probably the result of a one-nighter?”

“Yeah, Ryan, I remember, but I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“Just shut up and let me ’splain. ’M getting there.”

“All right, but get to the point.”

“Did I ever tell you ’bout when I was younger? How I didn’t wanna be gay, so I forced myself to sleep with a bunch of women to prove to myself that I didn’t ’ave to be, unless I wanted to?”

“No.”

“Well, I did. And when I was back in your bedroom after you went outside, I saw a picture of one of ’em on the dresser. I slept with your sister and now I’m pretty sure Katie could be mine. How’s that for a small world, eh?” Ryan buried his face in his hands and laughed hysterically. The laughter quickly turned to hiccups and finally ended in great wracking sobs that shook his broad frame.

Andrew sat on the couch, his body almost as frozen as his mind. He wanted to console Ryan. He really did, but he couldn’t move.

A million little details zipped through his mind. Things Katie said or did. Tiny idiosyncrasies and physical attributes, they all squashed together in the forefront of his numb brain and made it damn near impossible for him to refute Ryan’s claim.

There was no reason for Ryan to lie. He had nothing to gain by claiming to be Katie’s biological father. And if Ryan was her true father, what did that make Andrew? If a blood test proved Ryan right and Katie was his, would he want custody? Take Katie away from him?

Misty eyes focused on the window behind Ryan, not really seeing it but remembering the view from other times. Life went on all around, while his world was reduced to a pile of ash the slightest wind could blow away at any minute.


Chapter Eight

 

His head swimming and his eyes a blurred mess, Ryan looked up to see a lone tear cascading down Andrew’s cheek. That, more than the silence, more than the agony he felt for hurting the man who meant so much to him, was his undoing.

He scooted over to where Andrew sat and pulled his lover into his arms. Andrew stiffened, but didn’t pull away. Ryan hugged him, content to be the only one holding on. He didn’t expect any more.

Ryan rested his chin on Andrew’s shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A tremor shook Andrew’s slim body. He exhaled a ragged sigh. “What are you going to do?”

“I…I have to know. I’m sorry, but I want a DNA test done. If she is mine…” Ryan couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know what would happen exactly, if Katie was his daughter.

He wanted to reassure Andrew that he wasn’t going to take Katie away from him. If it turned out Katie really was his flesh and blood, he knew he wanted a relationship with her, wanted to be there for her and provide for her, but he wasn’t sure about anything more than that. He didn’t know if he was cut out to be a single parent or if he would be any good at it.

The little girl clearly loved Andrew, and he her. Wouldn’t it be cruel to take her away from the only father she’d ever known? Ryan knew that no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t make half the parent Andrew did. Maybe they could work something out, arrange visitations or something like divorced parents did?

Everything felt out of joint. So many decisions hung in the balance, waiting for someone to make a choice that would irrevocably change all their lives. It was all so damn confusing and sudden. He wasn’t sure what would happen and that in itself was terrifying. Just when Ryan realized he’d fallen in love, he was going to lose Andrew. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell Andrew how he’d felt, and now it was too late. It didn’t matter. After all this, Ryan was sure Andrew wouldn’t want him. He was the one throwing Andrew’s life into upheaval, ruining his happy home.

A sharp pain tore through Ryan’s chest. His nose burned and his eyes watered. He tightened his arms around Andrew, afraid that if he released him Andrew would walk out on him and refuse to look back. Petrified of losing him, Ryan held on tight, his arms banding like steel around Andrew.

“Let go,” Andrew said, his voice hoarse.

“No.”

Andrew shoved against his chest. “Let. Me. Go.”

Ryan loosened his hold but refused to budge from where he sat. Andrew glared at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes. “Move.”

“No.”

Andrew shoved against Ryan’s shoulders, pushing with all his might, and Ryan knew he meant business. Ryan moved back a few inches, barely creating enough room for Andrew to slide by and unsteadily rise to his feet.

Ryan realized he couldn’t force Andrew to stay, even if it killed him to watch him walk away. That didn’t, however, mean he had to make it easy on him. “Stay,” he pleaded.

Halfway to the door, with his back to Ryan, Andrew stopped.

Taking that as a positive sign, Ryan continued. “Please. Don’t go.”

“Why? Give me one good reason I should stay.”

“I need…”

Andrew spun around and snapped out, “You need what?”

On trembling legs, Ryan crossed the room. “You,” he replied softly, his fingertips brushing lightly over Andrew’s stubbled jaw. “I need you, Drew.”

Andrew’s face turned, his mouth a millimeter away from Ryan’s fingertips, presenting a lure he couldn’t resist. Azure blue eyes met his as he ran the pad of his thumb over Andrew’s bottom lip.

Ryan leaned in and kissed Andrew, well aware he was making a mistake. Now was not the time for sex. Yet he couldn’t stop himself once he was moving. He kissed Andrew with all the emotion, all the love he felt deep inside. Andrew’s flesh remained lax and unresponsive.

Ryan prayed to every deity he’d ever heard of for Andrew to kiss him back, to give him something. Any kind of response to show he wanted this as much as Ryan did. Though he knew he didn’t deserve it, all he asked was to have this one night, this one last moment with the man he loved before he was left alone and brokenhearted.

Andrew owned Ryan’s heart, his very soul, but there was one thing Ryan could give him that he’d shared with no one else. Through numerous trysts and easy lovers, Ryan had never bottomed. Always a staunch top, the barrier of his anus had yet to be breached by anything larger than a finger. Somehow, he’d always known that his heart and his ass were a package deal. Until Andrew, Ryan had never trusted anyone enough to let them inside. If this was going to be their last night together, he longed to feel Andrew moving inside him, laying claim to a deeper part of him. Ryan could only hope Andrew would take the sacrifice of his cherry for what it was. A gift of trust, the only thing he had left to offer the man he loved.

Tentatively, Ryan slipped his arms under Andrew’s. His palms gravitated to Andrew’s shoulder blades and settled there, kneading the firm, tense muscles.

Andrew wasn’t resisting his touch, but neither was he participating. That wouldn’t do at all. Ryan wanted Andrew to take him, not the other way around.

“Please,” he whispered, his tongue flickering out to tease the corners of Andrew’s sealed lips. “Need you, Drew. Need you so damn bad.”

A nervous minute passed with no response. He sighed against Andrew’s lips, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to respond. His arms fell to his sides and he took a step back. To his surprise, Andrew grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into his arms. Ryan gasped and Andrew’s lips converged on his, his tongue slinking past his teeth and swirling around his own. Ryan buried the fingers of one hand in the silky hair at the nape of Andrew’s neck, while the other worked on the buttons of Andrew’s shirt.

Without stopping to breathe or look where they were going, Ryan began to slowly work his way back to his bedroom. Clothing fell to the wayside, littering the hallway in their wake.

Andrew stopped at the foot of his bed. He kicked out of his shoes and toed his pant legs over his feet. Ryan admired the smooth creamy landscape of Andrew’s skin, the rise and fall of his muscled chest. His gaze trailed over the slim tapering of hair beneath Andrew’s bellybutton to the thick jut of his cock. The deep rose-colored head was swollen and glistening with excitement. His balls were drawn, cupping the hard base of his stalk.

Ryan’s mouth watered and his knees shook. He wanted Andrew to make love to him, was determined for it to happen, but inside he was nervous. Anything new came with a bit of trepidation and he knew the first time was bound to be uncomfortable.

He sat on the foot of the bed and opened his arms to Andrew, who walked right into them and picked up where they’d left off. Ryan eased back onto the mattress. Andrew followed him down, his lips in constant motion.

Ryan groaned and arched into Andrew’s touch as his lover pulled and twisted his nipples. The taut peaks stiffened and began to tingle from the attention they were receiving. Andrew’s lips left his and a second later the wet heat of his mouth surrounded one of Ryan’s nipples, laving and nibbling, while his fingers tortured the other taut nub with short squeezes. Andrew leaned across him, switching sides, and cool air washed over his moistened flesh, making embers of fire bungee to his cock. Fresh blood pumped anew, engorging him to the point of pain. His dick bounced against his stomach, nearly reaching his navel as it strained for attention like an eager puppy.

He reached down to stroke himself, only to have Andrew growl, “Mine,” and bat his hand away from his cock.

The low, vicious rumble affected him like a blast of electricity. Ryan’s hips rocked up, shoving his groin skyward, searching for…something. Andrew answered his silent plea by scooting down his body and licking at the dripping head of his cock. The hot, wet abrasions against the tight, sensitive skin of his helmet made him whimper, actually fucking whimper, and fist the cover on either side of his hips to keep from pumping upward.

Up and down, around and around, Andrew laved him like a Popsicle. One of Ryan’s hands released the cover and ran over the top of Andrew’s head, through his hair, anywhere he could reach, encouraging him on. Odd grunts spilled from his mouth, filling the air with a hunger not to be denied.

Andrew flicked his tongue down Ryan’s shaft, nibbling at the base, before moving on to mouth the tightly drawn sac protecting his balls. His lips pulled and tugged at it, exerting gentle pressure and loosening the taut skin. Using two fingers, Andrew separated Ryan’s balls and laved the hidden base of his cock where it extended down into his body.

Ryan jerked his hips, unable to control his reaction, and pressed himself harder against Andrew’s marauding tongue. Ryan moaned and thrashed as Andrew’s tongue slipped down and swiped over his pelvic floor and quickly ringed the puckered entrance to his ass.

Andrew rose up and moved between Ryan’s splayed thighs. He grabbed a pillow and wedged it underneath Ryan’s hips, propping him up. Ryan tensed and clenched his bottom, watching Andrew through heavy lashes as Drew dropped to his belly and squirmed into position between his thighs.

The first hot touch of Andrew’s tongue on his anus sent Ryan into a frenzy. He groaned and writhed, pleaded and begged, while Andrew went at him as if he were a starving man facing a gourmet banquet. When he felt the stiff tip of Andrew’s tongue breach his entrance, he thought his cock would break from the amount of blood rushing into it, stretching it out past its usual girth.

Andrew rose up on his knees between Ryan’s legs and ran the bulbous head of his cock through the slick valley between Ryan’s cheeks. Slight pressure against his anus warned Ryan of Andrew’s intent to penetrate him. Though slick and loosened from Andrew rimming him, Ryan knew that sex without lube would hurt more than it had to.

He gripped Andrew’s forearms, preventing him from pressing in. “Wait, Drew. I’ve never…” His voice trailed off on a groan as Andrew’s cock brushed over his hole. “I’ve never done this. We need lube. A lot of lube.”

“Get it,” Andrew grunted.

Ryan scrambled onto his side and reached into the nightstand. He fumbled through crap he couldn’t see until his fingers latched onto the smooth cool bottle of lube. Turning back to Andrew, he held it out to him.

Andrew took the bottle and squeezed a huge dollop into his palm. As he worked it over the ruddy length of his prick, his gaze never strayed from Ryan’s face. Seeing the potent storm raging in Andrew’s blue eyes, Ryan shivered in anticipation.

Andrew milked another glob of lube out of the bottle. His fingers spread the cheeks of Ryan’s ass and found the moist entrance into his body. Pressing a finger home, he met Ryan’s eyes. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

Ryan trembled at the slight burn of Andrew’s thick finger entering him and the sensual promise in Andrew’s voice. “Do it, fuck me.”

Andrew’s finger retracted, only to push back in with a second. His fingers speared deep, twisting and spreading Ryan open. The tip of one brushed his prostate and caused him to jolt from the extreme pleasure of it. Ryan lifted his legs and gripped them beneath the knees, holding himself open for Andrew. “Please, Drew. Now. Want you inside me.”

Andrew grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the wide head to Ryan’s entrance. Ryan held his breath, trying to concentrate on loosening his muscles. The fat head of Andrew’s cock popped through the restrictive ring of Ryan’s ass, causing a lance of sharp, sweet pain. He cried out, unable to hold it in, as Andrew forged deeper, filling him to bursting.

Seated all the way inside, Andrew stilled. His eyes fell shut and his breath burst from his chest in choppy puffs. He’d never looked more beautiful.

His eyes opened and met Ryan’s, the connection between them stronger than ever. He leaned down and kissed Ryan, his tongue spearing into Ryan’s mouth as his hips began to rock.

On and on, Andrew plunged deeper, tongue and cock working in an alternating rhythm that pitched all conscious thought from Ryan’s head. All he knew or experienced was Andrew and what he was doing to his body, the ride he was taking him on. Ryan didn’t think he could go higher, feel more, until Andrew reached between their damp, sweat-slick bodies and took hold of his cock. One squeeze and he was shaking, coming so hard his spine felt it had all but dissolved under the pressure. The orgasm shot through his body in flash-lightning intensity and splashed against the feverish skin of his abdomen. “Oh God. Oh shit. Drew!”

Howling, Andrew plunged deep, his hips grinding against Ryan as he found his release. Ryan felt the hot wet spray of Andrew’s come inside him and belatedly realized they hadn’t used protection. Though he knew it was stupid and irresponsible, he was glad.

Andrew’s softening member slid from his body, leaving behind the bitter sting of overstretched muscles. He rolled off of him and collapsed, his arm haphazardly thrown across Ryan’s chest. The need to rise and clean himself up was tempting, but Ryan didn’t want to move. He rolled to his side and pulled Andrew’s arm tight around him. He buried his face in the pillow, his eyes welling with tears he refused to shed.

As Andrew’s breath evened out behind him, assuring Ryan he was sound asleep, he muttered the three words he knew Andrew would no longer want to hear from him. “I love you.”


Chapter Nine

 

Red light pervaded Andrew’s closed eyelids and yanked him from the warm embrace of slumber. With reluctance, he slowly stretched like a cat. Extended above his head, his fingertips encountered a wall instead of his headboard, causing his eyes to pop open in confusion.

For a moment, the simplicity of stark white walls didn’t register. He rubbed at his gritty eyes and pulled himself upright, blinking groggily.

Ryan’s bedroom. Right.

The night before came back to him in bits and pieces. Ryan admitting he’d slept with Angie, Ryan’s possible paternity of Katie, fucking Ryan into the mattress. God. What the hell had he been thinking? He should have gone home, not stayed and taken the man’s cherry.

And just what had that been about? If Ryan had never bottomed before, why had he been so anxious to the night before?

His cock twitched, filling and lengthening as he remembered the sexy way Ryan’s body had clung to his. So hot and tight. One hand slipped under the cover to caress his aching flesh.

The tasty smell of frying bacon wafted under his nose. Andrew’s stomach growled and overrode his desire to rub one off before leaving the warm bed. He threw his legs over the side and stood, shivering as his feet made contact with the cold hardwood floor.

At the end of the bed, he found his pants and shoes in a discarded heap. He kicked into his Dockers and yanked them up. Working the buttons, he padded down the hall in search of Ryan and sustenance.

Ryan’s voice reached him halfway down the hallway. “Yes, tomorrow morning would be fine.”

Pause.

“No. Just two of us.”

Pause.

“Well, um, the mother is deceased. Would a relative, like a sibling, do?”

Pause.

“Yes. Thank you. We’ll see you in the morning at ten.”

Ryan was just setting the white cordless phone back on its base as Andrew entered the kitchen. “Who was that?”

Ryan glanced over at him and then returned his attention to the stove, using a fork to turn the bacon, which was snapping and hissing in the frying pan. “Um, well, that was Labcorp. I called to make us an appointment for paternity testing. They can see us in the morning. I hope ten o’clock is good for you and Katie.”

Andrew ran a hand through his mangled hair and wondered what he was supposed to say. He felt like he was caught in the middle of a bad soap opera. If it were, he could see the title of today’s episode: “Gay lover’s secret baby revealed”.

The beginnings of a headache thumped at his temples. He absently used his pointer finger to rub at one, while watching Ryan shimmy around the kitchen fixing breakfast. Normally, the domestic scene would have comforted him. This morning it seemed odd.

“I’m just gonna go get dressed,” he mumbled as he walked out of the room.

The hallway walls felt too small and narrow, like they were closing in on him, trying to trap him in. He felt like he should be doing something, saying something, but he didn’t know what it was. Throwing a temper tantrum sounded good, maybe even having a bender like Ryan had pulled the night before, but he was an adult and had things to do. Life went on, even when your insides were twisted and bleeding.

He needed to pick Katie up from Jake’s and clean the house. The leftover mess from the barbecue still needed to be cleaned up. He’d been in too big a hurry to see about Ryan to deal with it before he’d left.

He and Ryan needed to talk, needed to try and figure out where they went from here, but he was too tired to broach the subject. For the rest of the day, he didn’t want to think about it. Tomorrow morning, when they went for testing, would be soon enough.

Andrew pulled on his shirt and stomped into his shoes. His underwear he stuffed into his pocket on the way to the door. Opening it, he turned back to see Ryan standing in the kitchen, watching him, a confused frown on his face.

“You’re leaving? I thought maybe we could talk over breakfast.”

“Sorry. I have to go. I, uh, I have to pick up Katie.”

“Oh. Well, okay. Do you want to meet me in the morning, or would you like for me to come and pick you two up?”

Andrew wanted to say he’d never agreed to the damn test in the first place. Instead, he said, “We’ll meet you.” And with that, he walked out the door, closing it with a soft click behind him.

 

* * *

 

Jake yanked open the door and flew out onto the porch before Andrew had finished climbing the stairs. He was dressed in a pair of threadbare jogging pants and nothing more, his hair a tangled riot of curls around his thin face. “Jesus, man, where’ve you been all day? I called Ryan this morning looking for you, and he said you’d already left. That was over five hours ago. I was about to start calling the hospitals.”

“Sorry,” Andrew apologized, humbled that he’d found such a good friend in Jake. “I spent most of the morning and afternoon just driving around. Thinking about things.”

Actually what he’d done was drive to the park and sit in his car. Half the time he’d stared off into outer space, his mind too chaotic to think straight. The rest of the time, he’d stared at the kids and their parents, trying to picture him and Ryan there with Katie, as a family. And then he’d lectured himself on the foolishness of dreaming.

Going home had sounded good, in theory, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how empty the house was without Katie in it, and he hadn’t been ready to face the world yet. He paused and shook his head. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re in Shawn’s room playing video games.” Jake grabbed his arm and guided him over to the swing inhabiting one corner of the covered porch. “Tell me what’s going on, peanut. It’s not like you to up and disappear without telling someone where you’re going to be just in case Katie might need you.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I guess I phased out there for awhile.” Andrew shuddered and sat next to Jake. “I found out some…” he paused while he tried to find the right word, “interesting news last night.”

“And…?” Jake urged him to continue.

“You know how I’ve always kinda wondered about who Katie’s biological father is?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, now I don’t have to wonder anymore.”

“Andrew.” Jake sighed. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yesterday, Ryan saw a picture of Angie. The one I keep on my bedroom dresser. He recognized her.”

Jake sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh my fucking God. Are you trying to say what I think you are?”

Andrew frowned at the smile on Jake’s face. “Why are you smiling? For God’s sake, I just told you my lover slept with my sister. He could take Katie away from me. You could be a little sympathetic.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is, peanut. So what if he banged Angie. Are you saying Ryan thinks he might be…” he looked around them and leaned in closer before continuing, “Katie’s father?”

Andrew nodded. Usually he liked Jake’s whimsical approach to life, but right now it got on his nerves. What the hell was there to be happy about?

“So, what were you driving around feeling sorry for yourself all day about? What could be better than finding out the man you love is the father of your child? You should be thrilled.”

“Yeah, you idiot, I’m really thrilled. What if he tries to take her away? Huh? Did you think of that? It’s not every day you find out you may be a father. What if he wants her? I can’t lose her, Jake. Katie’s all I have. She’s my little girl.”

“You know I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t you think you’re being just a little overdramatic about all this? I have a hard time believing that Ryan would want custody of Katie. The man loves you; I can’t see him doing that. Did he tell you that’s what he’d want?”

“No, but—”

“No buts. Just hear me out first. The two of you love each other—”

Andrew scoffed. “Ryan doesn’t—”

“Ack. I said for you to stay quiet and hear me out. And yes, Ryan does love you. It’s obvious to everyone but you. Now, as I was saying, you guys are in love. If Katie is Ryan’s biological daughter, it seems to me that’s the icing on the cake. I mean think about it. Angie was your twin. That makes Katie almost yours DNA wise. If you throw Ryan’s swimmers into the mix, hell, it’s almost like the two of you created her together. Other than a divine miracle, that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get to having a naturally conceived child with the man you love.”

Andrew chewed his bottom lip. He hadn’t thought of things that way. “That’s all well and good, but for your information, oh wise one, Ryan has never once said he loves me.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

“No. So what?”

“Well, does the fact that you haven’t told him how you feel mean you don’t love him?”

“I never said I loved him.” Even to his own ears, he was beginning to sound like a recalcitrant child. That certainly wasn’t good, but damn, he didn’t want to agree with Jake. He’d wanted someone to bemoan to, not someone to jump on the happily-ever-after wagon.

“But you do,” Jake replied cockily.

“Whatever, Jake. Would you go in and fetch Katie for me? I need to take her home.” What he didn’t say was that he needed to get himself home more. Between his own walls, he would be able to mope and lick his wounds in peace. He could spend time with Katie and try to figure out how to explain why they were going to the doctor. He definitely wasn’t ready to tell her the truth.


Chapter Ten

 

Dawn crested the horizon and splattered watery light over Ryan’s prone body. He slapped the pillow in aggravation and sat up. Enough was enough. Since Andrew had walked out on him the previous morning, he hadn’t been able to do anything; not eat or sleep. The breakfast he’d been in the process of cooking yesterday morning was promptly flung into the trash bin. Watching Andrew walk away without a single glance back had killed something inside Ryan.

The only thing he’d managed to accomplish since then was thinking, about anything and everything under the sun. The pros and cons had been weighed and reweighed a dozen or more times. He knew what he wanted. All he had to do was convince Andrew.

Ryan slipped from bed and hurried to the closet. He pulled on the first thing his fingers touched, jeans and a black T-shirt. Now that his mind was made up, he was in too big a hurry to search for his shoes. He slipped on a pair of ugly green flip-flops lying at the foot of the bed, the ones he used when he wanted to go out and check the mail, and finger combed his hair on the way to the door.

Halfway out, he remembered his keys and turned back to grab them off the hook beside the door. He wouldn’t get far without those.

Jangling keys in hand, he jogged across the pavement to his bike. Straddling it, he punted the kickstand up. His ass hit the leather seat, his fingers twisted the key in the ignition, and he was off.

Wind whipped at his face, tore at his hair and clothing, as he revved the bike up and flew over the road. The chill sting biting into his skin invigorated him, drove his sense of purpose higher. He could do this. He would. Andrew would hear him, return his affection, and they would live happily ever after. No problem.

Yeah right, his subconscious yelled back to him, you wish. “Shut up,” he whispered, pulling onto Andrew’s street. As he closed in on Andrew’s house, he slowed the bike and walked it the last block. He didn’t want the loud rumble to wake Katie. He didn’t know how sound a sleeper she was, and what he needed to tell Andrew had to be said in private.

Which was why he forewent ringing the bell and walked around the side of the house instead. If any of Andrew’s neighbors was up and saw him slinking around outside, they would probably think he was a burglar and call the cops, but that was a chance he was willing to take.

Ryan sidled up to Andrew’s bedroom window, thanking the stars the man had a first-floor bedroom, and knocked lightly. He couldn’t see in because of the blinds, but the house was dark, giving him as good a chance as any of catching him in bed. He hoped Andrew had been able to get more rest than he had, though Ryan doubted it.

When a couple of seconds went by, he knocked again. The blinds rustled, separating, and Andrew’s face appeared in the window. His beautiful blue eyes were bloodshot and a thick growth of dark blond stubble marred his jaw. Seeing the way his lover looked, so worn out and miserable, tore at Ryan’s heartstrings. He would’ve sold his left nut to wipe away all the hurt and worry he’d caused him.

Andrew’s eyes widened when he saw him. He raised a brow and then the blind fell back over the window. Ryan’s heart felt like it’d taken a shot of adrenaline as the seconds passed by. Was Andrew going to ignore him, leave him standing out here with his heart on his sleeve?

He swallowed the ball of dread steadily building in his throat. His eyes misted and he blinked the tears away. His fists flexed and his resolve hardened.

No. He wasn’t going to let it be over this quick. The least Andrew could do was hear him out. If he still wanted Ryan to go after that, then he would, but he would have his say first. He raised his hand to knock again.

“Are you going to stand out here and admire my window all morning, or are you going to come in the house?”

Ryan jolted at hearing Andrew’s voice. His head turned and he saw Andrew standing at the corner of the house, a ratty blue terrycloth robe hanging off his shoulders. The front was open, exposing the pale creaminess of Andrew’s chest and the firm, defined contours of his abdomen. A pair of loose blue sleep pants hung low on his hips, revealing the sweet V of delicate skin between the jut of his hipbones.

In spite of his reasons for being there, his mouth watered for a taste of what he knew was beneath the thin cotton. He felt his dick react to the visual stimulus and had to shake his head to clear out the cobwebs of desire building. If things went they way he wanted—and they would, damn it—he and Andrew would have the rest of their lives to make love.

“Well, are you coming?”

Ryan snapped to attention and crossed the feet separating them. His arms ached to hold Andrew, but he refrained from reaching for him and stuck his hands in his pockets instead. “I had to talk to you.”

“It’s okay. I was awake. Couldn’t sleep last night.” Andrew’s gaze crawled over his disheveled appearance. “By the looks of you, I’d say you didn’t either. You look like shit.”

Ryan smiled. It was a small one but it felt good nonetheless. “Thanks a lot. You don’t look so hot yourself, Drew.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a good reason for that. Come on into the house. I want to show you something I found last night. I was just getting ready to call you, when you knocked on the, err, window.”

“Okay. There are some things I need to share with you too.”

They somberly walked into the house together. Andrew led him into his bedroom and shut the door. “Katie’s still asleep. That kid will sleep until noon unless I wake her up.”

“Sounds like me,” Ryan said and then bit his tongue when he realized his slip. Damn. That wasn’t the way he wanted to start the conversation.

“That’s not surprising, considering what I found when I went through some of the things Angie left behind last night.” He walked over to the bed and perched on the side. His hand went to the nightstand and rested on the drawer’s knob. With his other hand, he patted the bed. “Come over and sit with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Though he had a strong curiosity to find out what Andrew was up to, he needed to speak first, to explain what was on his mind before he lost his nerve. “It can wait for a minute, Drew. We need to talk.”

With the drawer halfway open, Andrew’s hand froze. “But I know—”

“Please. I need you to hear me out.”

“All right. Go ahead and say whatever it is you need to.”

“Thank you.” Ryan sat beside Andrew and pulled one of his hands into his. Now all he had to do was tell Andrew how he felt and remember to breathe. That should be easy, right? “I did a lot of thinking last night. Actually, that’s pretty much all I did after you left. Anyway, here’s the thing.”

Ryan swallowed. “I’m sorry that I slept with Angie. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. I would do anything to make you happy. I love you. I mean, I really fucking love you and the thought of losing you terrifies me. So, if you don’t want to go through with the paternity test, I’ll cancel it. It isn’t important anyway. Whether or not Katie is my flesh and blood doesn’t matter because I’m going to be around to help you parent her anyhow, right? Regardless of her DNA, I would love her anyway because she’s a part of you.”

Ryan sucked in a deep breath of air. So much for remembering to breathe. Between his palms, Andrew’s hand was cool and dry. He wanted to look up and search Andrew’s face for some sign of what he was feeling, but Ryan was scared to. He’d never been afraid of anything in his life, but damned if he wasn’t quaking in terror now. His entire life hung in the balance, waiting to hear what Andrew would say.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up more out of reflex than intent. Andrew had scooted closer and was right beside him, a Mona Lisa smile on his face and his big blue eyes luminous with unshed tears. “You big idiot.”

That wasn’t exactly the “I love you” Ryan was hoping to hear but the kiss Andrew leaned in and pressed against his closed mouth more than made up for the slight. Ryan wrapped his arms around Andrew, pulled him in for a tight hug and buried his face in Andrew’s neck. The feel of Andrew’s body next to him, the smell of his lover’s skin and hair, comforted Ryan like nothing else could have.

Andrew kissed the curve of Ryan’s neck. “I love you too. So, so much, Ryan. Too much to try and keep you from finding out whether or not Katie’s yours. If you would have let me finish telling you what I found out last night, you would already know she’s your daughter.”

Ryan pulled back, not by much though, only enough so that he could see Andrew’s face. “What? But how?”

Katie was his daughter. His. He didn’t know what he should have been feeling, apprehension, maybe even anger at being kept in the dark for so long, but all he felt was happiness. Andrew was in love with him and he’d just found out he was a father. It was a bit much to absorb.

Andrew brushed his lips softly over Ryan’s and turned to pull a yellowed envelope out of his nightstand. “After Katie went to bed last night, I went through some of Angie’s things again. There isn’t much, just some trinkets and jewelry mostly, but inside the lining of her jewelry case was a letter addressed to Katie. I don’t know why I never noticed it before, but then again I hadn’t ever looked for something before either.” He held out the letter. “Here. You read it.”

Ryan took the envelope and gently removed a piece of pink stationery embossed with white daisies along one side. The handwriting upon it was in large and painstakingly neat cursive.

My Dearest Katie,

If you’re reading this, then I have to assume I’ve passed away and left you in the care of your uncle Andrew. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to stay with you and watch you grow up to become the wonderful young woman I have no doubt you’ve become.

Nevertheless, I know Andrew has raised you well and with all the love I myself would have bestowed upon you, had I been able to stay. I love you, sweetheart, and I’m sure that whatever you’ve chosen to do with your life, you would have made me proud.

Since this letter was tucked away inside my jewelry box, I feel confident that you’re of an appropriate age to take care of the bobbles I left behind for you and that you’re finally old enough to learn the truth of your conception. It isn’t a pretty fairy tale for children, but the story of a woman desperate for a child. Desperate to have you, my own sweet little angel, before it was too late.

At twenty-six I was diagnosed with breast cancer and terrified that the one dream I held closest to my heart, the dream to someday have a child, would never come to fruition. I can’t excuse my actions but I can try to explain them, so that one day you might be able to understand and, hopefully in time, learn to forgive me for denying you the chance to know your father.

The man who sired you is named Ryan Ward. At the time of your conception, he was a college student at Virginia Tech. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you about him. It’s all I know. Your father was a man I met and picked up in a bar. I manipulated him and conceived you, without his knowledge or consent. Your biological father didn’t abandon you or not care about your wellbeing. Because of my deceit, he doesn’t know of your existence. What I did was a despicable, terrible thing to do, but I have to admit that I wouldn’t change a thing, because the end result was worth it. After all, it gave me you.

I hope you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me.

Love,

Mom

Ryan read over the note twice and then again. After the third pass, his hands shook so badly he was forced to hand the paper back to Andrew for fear he would inadvertently crumple it. It was Katie’s last memento from her mother and for that reason he refrained from wadding it into a ball and throwing it against the wall.

She had purposefully gotten pregnant and kept his child from him. Granted, they hadn’t exactly exchanged contact information, but she could have found him if she’d wanted to. Oddly, he felt more pity toward her than anger. The past couldn’t be undone and there was no one left to be angry at.

He watched Andrew tuck the note safely back within its envelope and slip it back into the drawer from which it came. When Andrew rotated back around, Ryan pulled him into his lap and enfolded Andrew in his arms.

“Where do we go from here, Drew? Do we tell Katie the truth now, or wait until she’s older and better able to understand?”

Andrew nuzzled the side of his neck. “I’ll leave that up to you. If you want her to know now, we’ll tell her an edited version and save the rest for when she’s ready.”

“I think I’d like to wait. At least until we’ve had time to get used to each other. It might come as less of a shock that way.”

Andrew nodded. “I think that’s probably for the best, all things considered. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Angie was a good person. I can’t picture her doing something like this, but I’m glad she did. Katie’s a great kid.” He lifted his head and smiled. “I think she must get that from her father.”

Her father. That would take some getting used to.

Ryan smiled back. “Yeah, I think you might be right.” As his lips met Andrew’s and they tumbled over onto the bed, Ryan was optimistic about the future. If he and Andrew could overcome this hurdle, they could make it through the trials and tribulations ahead. For the want of a child’s love, his daughter had been conceived. Through the want of an everlasting love of a man, their family was born.


About the Author

 

Amanda Young spends her days basking in the sun by the seashore and her nights surrounded by dozens of serenading male strippers whose only desire is to make her happy.

Yeah, right.

In real life, my husband would chase away all the hot men, right before asking me what I’m going to fix him for dinner and reminding me to do the dishes for the umpteenth time.

Always an avid reader of romance, I was thrilled when I discovered erotic romance. For a long while I toyed with the idea of writing my own but could never find the time.

When I found myself unemployed, I decided that it was high time I gave it a shot. I sat down at my trusty computer and, according to my very patient husband, haven’t moved since.

To learn more about Amanda Young, please visit www.AmandaYoung.org. Send an email to Amanda Young at AmandasRomance@aol.com.


Look for these titles by Amanda Young

Now Available:

 

Missing in Action

Shameful

Taboo Desires

Sins of the Past

 


When his girlfriend demands he settle down and start a family, Cole Winchester has some hard decisions to make. Marry his girlfriend, or finally own up to his taboo attraction to other men.

 

Taboo Desires

© 2007 Amanda Young

Available now at Samhain Publishing

 

Cole Winchester feels like a rat, boxed into a corner. Faced with the prospect of being trapped in a passionless marriage, he makes the hard choice to end his relationship.

A run in with an old friend on the beach, propels Cole’s fantasies out into the open and forces him to confront his taboo desires. Before him, lies the choice of a lifetime—embrace his desire for another man and all the pitfalls that come along with it, or return to his girlfriend and live out the safe half-life he carved for himself.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, and hot nekkid man-love.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for Taboo Desires:

 

Cole turned to find Eric right behind him, close enough to touch. Tension ratcheted up a notch, growing thick and palpable in the dark. His arms felt empty and longed to reach out, pull Eric to him.

“Sorry about the dark,” he rambled nervously, while stepping around Eric. “I would turn on the lights, but by the time I get to the breaker box, we could be upstairs anyway.”

Upstairs. Alone together. With a big comfy bed just waiting for us to make use of it. Cole gave himself a mental smack and, through determination alone, managed to keep his hands firmly at his sides.

Inviting Eric home with him was the equivalent of playing with fire. Oh, he’d noticed the sly glances the younger man had been shooting his way all night, seen him sporting wood more than once. And then that kiss—he didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t pulled away at the last second. He’d been so tempted to let Eric kiss him, to see what Eric’s lips would feel like against his own.

Eric was interested, of that Cole didn’t have any doubt. The real question was, was he interested? His cock shouted, “hell yeah”, but the rest of him was torn. Eric was a cute guy, and they seemed to have a bit in common, but he didn’t know if he was ready to take that next step, to go from fantasizing about being with a man to actually doing it. He could see him and Eric being friends, yes, but lovers? Oh, he wanted to fuck Eric, no doubt about that, but he wasn’t sure if he could go through with it. Twenty-seven years of being conditioned to believe homosexuality was wrong stood a silent vigil between him and what he desired.

“This way,” he said and headed for the private door leading up to his apartment. “Just follow behind me and I’ll try not to steer you into a wall.”

Eric’s footsteps echoed on the stairs as he tagged along. “Yeah, that would be good. I’d hate to run my head into a wall and end up spending the night on your sofa.”

Yep, Cole thought, that would be a tragedy. If Eric spent the night, he could think of a lot better places for him to spend time. Like sprawled out naked in bed, underneath him, or on top of him, or hell, even upside down would be okay.

Cole stopped on the last step and unlocked the door. Eric waited behind him, one step down. Any closer and Cole imagined he would feel the heat radiating off Eric’s body, feel his hot breath on the small of his back. That instantly brought to mind a picture of Eric’s pink tongue—the same one he’d coveted earlier in the night while it ran across Eric’s pouty lower lip—peeking out to lick at the delicate skin of his lower back, drifting lower to explore territory no woman had ever touched. What would that bubble gum tongue feel like moving over his ass, licking, prodding his entrance?

The cheeks of his backside clenched in response to the taboo image. His pulse quickened and in the dark, silent corridor, he could hear the resonance of his own labored breathing. As he shoved open his door and reached a hand inside to feel for the light switch, he wondered if Eric had noticed it too.

His hand never made it to the light. Eric rushed him from behind and pushed him up against the wall opposite the open door. A hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled his head down.

“Fuck it. I may be way off base here, but I think you want this as much as I do,” Eric whispered, hot puffs of breath caressing Cole’s skin with every word.

Before he could utter a response, soft lips pressed against his, and a tongue slid over the seam of his mouth, coaxing him to open wide. His eyelids fell shut and his lips parted, allowing Eric in. The first touch of Eric’s tongue gliding along his sent an electric current ricocheting through his body. He groaned and tilted his head, losing himself in the taste and texture of Eric’s mouth.

His arms rose of their own will and wrapped around Eric’s slim body, zeroing in on his firm little ass and pulling him closer. Their bodies flush, tongues dueling, Cole could feel everything. A hundred sensations hit him at once and short-circuited his senses. The whoosh of breath leaving Eric’s body, the fast thump of blood rushing through his own ears, the ache of his balls drawing tight, the hard ridge of Eric’s cock rubbing against his own through too many layers of clothes.

He wanted them naked. Now. Wanted to touch and taste with an intensity that should’ve frightened him, and probably would have if he’d been in the frame of mind to care right then. Luckily, he wasn’t. He was too tired of all the bullshit, of hiding and pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Though he wasn’t sure why, Cole felt safe enough to let go and be himself around Eric. The only thing holding him back was himself, and for the first time ever, Cole was ready to ignore the persistent little whisper of his overactive conscience and throw caution to the wind for what he wanted. Nothing mattered but the man in his arms and the flame burning hotter between them.

Cole spun them around and pressed Eric’s back to the wall. He sucked Eric’s bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it, savoring the sweet whimper he got in response. His hands slid between their bodies and fumbled with the button of Eric’s pants. The damn things were skin tight—he couldn’t get them unfastened.

Eric shoved Cole’s hands out of the way and undid them himself, yanking the front of his jeans open before going to work on Cole’s. In a matter of seconds, Eric had both their cocks out, in his slender hand, and was rubbing them together. He leaned up on tiptoe, pressed his lips against Cole’s and whispered, “Touch me.”


On a frigid winter night, vengeance is what he seeks. A love strong enough to melt the ice surrounding his battered heart is what he finds.

 

Shameful

© 2007 Amanda Young

Available now at Samhain Publishing

 

After six years of forced exile and servitude, Shamus Long is finally going home. A grisly discovery upon his arrival plummets Shame into a world of darkness and vengeance that threatens to consume him.

With single-minded purpose, Shame tracks down the Master Vampire responsible for ordering the hit on his family. Upon his arrival, a vicious snow squall postpones his attack on the murderous cartel, forcing him to seek refuge in a small motel on the edge of town to wait out the storm.

There he meets Gail, a shy loner working the night shift. Instant chemistry and a power outage throw them into one another's arms for a night of scorching passion. When Ty, a man accompanying him, with his own retribution to deliver unto the supernaturals, disappears, Shame grows paranoid and seeks anonymity by following Gail home.

Hot nights of blistering lovemaking, while he continues the search for both the cartel and the man he has grown to consider a friend, put Shame on edge and leave him feeling emotions he refuses to accept.

All of Shame's secrets come to light when he's forced to involve Gail. What he doesn't know is Gail has secrets of her own. Secrets strong enough to rock the very foundation of his beliefs and threaten not only his bruised heart, but his very life.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, and violence.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for Shameful:

 

While he recovered from what had to be the world’s best orgasm, Shame studied Gail’s bedroom. A woman’s room could say a lot about her personality and he found that he wanted to know more about the little minx who currently lay sprawled in a satiated heap over his chest.

Gail’s bedroom was simple. Not a lot of clutter like he’d seen in the rest of the house. Off-white walls with a pale mint green border. A single white mirrored dresser and matching nightstand. A few perfume bottles and a small oak jewelry box sat on one corner of the dresser. On her nightstand was an alarm clock and two picture frames. The larger frame housed a picture of Gail and an older woman, both smiling happily into the camera with an arm wrapped around each other’s shoulders. They looked so much alike that they had to be family. Maybe an older sister, or possibly her mother? The smaller of the two held a photo of two children caught in the awkward stages right before puberty, a dark-headed boy pushed a smaller girl—probably Gail, judging by the wild mop of blonde hair—and smirked into the camera. The face stirred a familiarity within Shame, but he couldn’t place it. He dismissed it, figuring the boy just resembled someone he’d seen during his travels, and moved his attention on.

The large canopied bed dominated the room with its immense size. Instead of letting the sheer pink curtains at each corner of the bed down like they were supposed to be, she’d wrapped them around the white cast-iron poles, making him think that her bed, maybe she herself, hadn’t seen any action for quite some time. Otherwise, wouldn’t the curtains have been down, blocking out the rest of the world, swathing them with the notion that nothing existed outside of the bed and the passion they found in each other’s arms?

Soft fingertips ran absently over his breastbone, alerting him to the fact that the woman in question was awake. He glanced down at her and noticed that her eyes were dreamy, like she was a million miles away. Judging by the slight upward tilt at the corners of her lips, her thoughts, whatever they might be, were of something pleasant. He wondered what she thought about that would put such an angelic smile on her beautiful face.

Curiosity got the better of him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm…” She looked up at him. “Oh, well, I just remembered what I was thinking about right before you showed up. I was sitting in the living room, feeling sorry for myself and wishing that I had someone special to spend the evening with.” She blushed, her gaze sliding back down toward his chest. “It’s kind of ironic that you’d show up right when I really needed someone.”

Shame didn’t know what to say. His windpipe felt stuffed with wet cotton. He also felt incredibly guilty. She thought he was there solely for her and he’d let her believe that, thinking it would be easier than explaining the truth and having her kick him out on his ass.

Was that what he’d turned into—a user?

“Gail, I’m glad I’m here. Even more pleased that you’re happy to see me, but I have to tell you that part of the reason I’m here is because I checked out of the motel. I thought, maybe, if it was all right with you, I would stay here for a few days while I take care of things. If you don’t want me to, all you have to do is say so and I’ll leave. No pressure. No hard feelings, I promise.”

Gail blinked up at him and then smiled. “Of course you can stay here. I’d be happy to have the company.” She reached down, her hand fisting around his semi-erect penis. “And I’m already thinking up ways for you to earn your keep.”

Shame caught her hands and pulled them up over her head. Laughing, he rolled her onto her back. “Oh you are, are you?” he teased.

“Mm hm.” Her eyes glittered up at him. “My mind’s spinning with all the possibilities.”

He brushed his lips softly over hers. “I just bet. You want to share some of those ideas with me?”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed. “Nope. I think I’ll keep them all to myself for now.”

Shame nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “Know what I think?”

“What?” she panted, her thighs tightening around him and her hips wiggling to find the right angle for penetration.

“I think you’re a little tease.”

His cock rubbed over and between her swollen folds. Both of them sighed as the tip cruised right down to where they both wanted it to be, the mouth of her pussy.

“You’re wrong,” Gail whispered, her hips arching, her pussy swallowing the first couple inches of his cock. “A tease doesn’t finish what she starts. I fully intend to start it”—her wet flesh glided over his tumescent stalk, punctuating her words—“and finish it.”

Shame groaned. His hips shot forward, burying the remaining inches of his stiff member inside the tight grip of her pussy. His balls hit the soft skin of her bottom and it was all he could do to keep from losing control. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he held still, not yet ready to move. He wanted to savor the hot, moist clasp of her body around him for a moment before he tore into her and sent them both into the stratosphere.

Gail moaned beneath him and her nails dug into his ass, urging him to move, to thrust. He gritted his teeth, stalling, wanting this time to last, but she wasn’t making it easy on him.

Leveraging herself up on her elbows, she licked the underside of his jaw and nipped at his chin. She ducked her head and flicked his nipple with the tip of her tongue and then sank her teeth into it, biting down. An involuntary grunt slipped from between his clenched teeth. God, she was going to kill him. Too many orgasms like the first one and he was a goner. Death by sexual overload—hell of a way to go, but it worked for him.


Life’s not always about the journey, but who takes you on the ride.

 

Custom Ride

© 2007 K.A. Mitchell

 

A stint in the Air Force left Ryan MacRae with a bitter memory of life in the closet. Jeff Allstein is a mechanic who has too much to lose if his private life becomes public. The heat of their attraction boils over on a stormy summer night, but satisfying that need only makes them both crave more.

Their searing connection makes it hard for Ryan to understand the road blocks Jeff continually puts down. Ryan will have to buckle up if he’s going to find love at the end of his custom ride.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit male/male sex, graphic language.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for Custom Ride:

 

When he got to the garage, the Camaro was parked in front, and Ryan couldn’t resist getting out to check the edge of the hood for his handprint.

“Might need a touch up.” There was amusement in the smoky voice that spoke behind him.

Ryan turned and leaned back against the hood. “Think the owner will mind?”

“Don’t know. Doesn’t have one yet.”

Ryan looked back over his shoulder at the glow of wax, the shine on the windows.

“It’s a junker I fixed up to sell. I saw you looking at it before, thought you might want to try it out.”

The activity Ryan had had in mind involving the Camaro wasn’t anything that could be done in the front of the lot, but before he could explain, Jeff tossed him a key.

“Want to drive it? I’ll be right back.”

Ryan transferred the cooler to the backseat of the Camaro, and Jeff came back out with a pizza box and a wide smile. Jeff had changed into a plain blue T-shirt, one Ryan was sure he knew set off his eyes and hugged the definition of his biceps and pecs and—Ryan bit his tongue back into his mouth—lickable abs.

Ryan wanted to tell him he really didn’t have to try this hard considering Ryan could already taste that thick head sliding over his lips, but it was kind of sweet that Jeff was making the effort.

“You can drive, really. We’ve got insurance that covers cars taken off the lot.”

Ryan eased into the leather seat, the trapped heat warming his ass and thighs through his worn-thin jeans like skin-to-skin contact. “If you’re that worried about my driving…”

Jeff swung in and leaned over to murmur in his ear. “I thought you might like the chance to drive—at least for now.”

Ryan’s dick seemed to catch Jeff’s double meaning before his brain did, a quick kick of warmth spreading out from his balls. He turned the ignition and was startled by the deep rumble of the engine. “Where are we heading?”

Jeff’s directions took them out to the state park, the car responding so smoothly and powerfully beneath him that Ryan could finally understand why people viewed cars as something besides a way to get from one point to another. Power vibrated up his spine, tingled in his fingers.

They didn’t talk on the way, just let the force of wind through the open windows and the purr of the engine fill the car. Ryan was almost disappointed when he pulled off in an out-of-the way picnic area after more than an hour.

Three slices of pizza and two beers later the sun had faded leaving behind a comfortable heat to match the growing one in his stomach. Jeff was good company even without their dicks involved. Ryan was kind of surprised to find Jeff cared little about any of the popular sports—even racing—but that they shared a passion for martial arts movies, the good, the bad and the idiotic.

“If I ever have time to get back into a dojo, I’m going to see if I can finally finish my brown levels.” Jeff set his empty down on the picnic table and tapped his foot where it rested on the bench.

“I still say Pai Mei in Kill Bill could handle Tony Jaa.” Ryan reached back into the cooler for a third beer.

“Because you’re an old man yourself.”

“Do not insult the master. I’d hate to think of you losing one of those beautiful eyes.”

“Beautiful?” Jeff’s lips twitched.

“Uh—” He shouldn’t have been so stupid on just two beers in a little less than two hours.

“You think I’m pretty, is that it?” Jeff leaned in, brows raised over the eyes in question. In the dark those eyes shone like a lake in starlight.

“Can I change my answer?”

“To?”

“Hot.”

“Depends.”

“On what?” Ryan forgot about the beer in his hands until the cold wet shock hit his stomach, and he shoved the bottle to the other side of the table.

“Which one gets me laid?”

Ryan licked his lips. “Pretty.” He caught Jeff’s head in his hands. “Beautiful.” He leaned in until his lips were resting against Jeff’s. “And hot.”

Jeff laughed against his mouth. “Guy’s gotta have all three, huh? And here I was hoping you were easy.”

“Try me.”

The kiss warmed slow and deep, buzzing along his nerves like the summer night around them. Jeff’s tongue flicked the corners of his mouth before stroking his, sharing and blending the rich malty taste of the beer.

Ryan slid his hands into Jeff’s hair, the short spikes softer than they looked. Jeff’s thumb traced his jaw, rubbed behind his ear while his other hand pushed his T-shirt out of the way to get his warm hand on the skin of his back. He followed Jeff’s push to deepen the kiss, bringing their chests together, pressing forward until Jeff was stretched out along the picnic table beneath him.

When his hands slid under Jeff’s shirt, finally brushing the hard muscles he’d been dying to touch, Jeff broke off the kiss. “Maybe we should move this to the car.”

They ditched their shirts on the way. Ryan hadn’t made out in a car’s backseat in…well, ever. Cramming two six-foot-plus frames into the backseat of a car was an adventure. He got an elbow to the ribs and bruised his shin on the seat edge before he managed to get Jeff back under him, all those long muscles pressing hot and hard into his skin. Jeff’s hands cupped his ass.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on this ass for more than a year.”

“Huh?” Ryan arched up.

“I’ve been watching you since you started bringing the car in.”

Realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. David, of course. “I think you’re with the wrong brother.”

“Nope.” Jeff’s hand slipped past the loose waistband of his jeans. “I’d never make a mistake about an ass like this. Your brother’s been bringing the car in for two years. You started picking him up the May before last.”

That was when he’d moved back to St. Cloud. And Jeff had been checking him out since then?

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I’m shy.”

“You gave me a hand job in the middle of a club because you’re shy?”



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