January] Miami's Perfect Weekend

CALENDAR BOYS JANUARY : MIAMI ’S PERFECT WEEKEND …Fortunately, nobody gave him any reason to pause or change direction, and by the time he reached the bathroom, he was rock hard. It seemed forever before the door swung open again. It took all of Tre’s control just to glance up from where he was standing at the sink, hoping to appear nonchalant in case it was someone other than Michael who entered. But there he was, green eyes bright behind his glasses, the line of his erection clear behind the well-cut pants. Without breaking away from where their gazes met in the mirror, Michael reached behind him and locked the door. “You’re not really interested in my theories regarding political civil liberties, now are you?” he asked softly. Tre turned to face him. “Actually, in general I am.” He wrapped his fingers around Michael’s wrist, careful not to squeeze him too hard, and pulled him against his chest. He dipped his head, not quite touching Michael’s mouth, and inhaled deeply. He just smelled of soap and sweat and Miami humidity. He fit well against Tre’s broader frame, and he could already imagine what it would be like to have Michael’s long legs wrapped around him. “Right this second? Not really.” “Good. Because I doubt very much I could put one together with you touching me like this.” A long hand skimmed over Tre’s shoulder, fingertips grazing along his

neck where it was exposed by his collar. “May I touch you?” Tre’s hands moved down Michael’s back to grip his firm ass. His clothes and the shape of his body were deceptive. Tre could feel his toned muscles tense and jump beneath his fingers. “Please.”

ALSO BY JAMIE CRAIG Keeping Time Master Of Obsidian Mosaic Moon Seduction In Black And White Unveiled

CALENDAR BOYS

JANUARY: MIAMI’S PERFECT WEEKEND BY JAMIE CRAIG

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

CALENDAR BOYS JANUARY: MIAMI’S PERFECT WEEKEND AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Pepper Espinoza & Vivien Dean ISBN 978-1-60272-181-4 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

JANUARY: MIAMI’S PERFECT WEEKEND

CHAPTER 1 Tre knew it would be difficult to get out of Miami the weekend of the football championship, but he never thought he would be trapped in the damned city. It seemed like some sort of cruel joke when his plane was delayed for the fourth, and final, time of the night. There were nothing but blue skies in Miami, but apparently it was snowing everywhere else, including Chicago, where his sister lived. He couldn’t even get a flight to Atlanta because everybody else in Miami seemed to have the same idea. But they would comp him for his stay at one of the many less-than-great hotels in the area. The woman behind the counter informed him of this with a shy smile, like she was 1

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suggesting something scandalous. He wanted to tell her to calm down, he wouldn’t be spending the night in her room. Which would have been rude, and maybe she wasn’t trying to flirt with him. Once Tre confirmed his flight had been rescheduled for nine the next morning, he made his way out of the terminal and down to flag a taxi, ignoring the stares, the pointing fingers, the whispers. Well, he tried to ignore them. He knew they didn’t mean anything by it. Nobody ever said anything rude to his face, and when he looked at the kids’ faces, he saw excitement and wonder. He never saw disappointment. But just because he didn’t see it reflected in their eyes didn’t mean he didn’t feel it acutely. Because they had every right to be disappointed in him. Football fans could be fickle, but forgiving. If his next season was a good one, they’d forgive him the mistakes, the short runs, the fumbles that ruined everything. Maybe. He wished he was home. His sister wasn’t impressed with him, and his sister didn’t have stars in her eyes when it came to football players. She wouldn’t let him feel sorry for himself, and her frankness and honesty would be a refreshing change of pace. He needed a drink by the time he reached the hotel. Or several drinks. He considered just ordering a few beers to be brought up by room service, but it would be quicker to stop at the bar. And a quick glance confirmed that the bar was nearly empty. Either he had just beat the Friday night crowd, or he’d just missed them. Or maybe people had better things to do with their lives than hang out in a bar in a hotel out by the 2

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airport. Tre didn’t know, and as he sat down to enjoy a quiet beer, he didn’t care. He was just getting his drink when another man sat beside him. He stiffened, pointedly not looking at or acknowledging the newcomer in any way. Sometimes, fans would leave him alone if he ignored them. Not often, but it was worth the chance. And what would this guy be doing sitting next to him if he wasn’t a fan? Nearly the entire bar was free. He could have taken a stool on the other end. But the new person merely gestured to the bartender, then grabbed the newspaper sitting nearby. Curious, Tre studied him from the corner of his eye. His first reaction was to internally shake his head. No wonder this guy doesn’t recognize me . Wireless glasses perched on his long nose, and his dark hair was trimmed short and immaculately styled. Everything about the man was long in fact—a long jaw, long fingers with the nails carefully cut, a long body and even longer legs. He was probably as tall as Tre, though not nearly as broad. Nicely shaped, though, he thought as his gaze flickered over the sharp shirt and pants. He was what Tre’s mother would have called a tall drink of water. Tre might have gone back to ignoring him, except he caught the strange man’s request. Tre couldn’t resist snorting in derision. “Who goes to a bar to order a ginger ale?” The man turned to look at him with a frown. The eyes behind the glasses were a piercing green, shrewd and intelligent. “Excuse me?” 3

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Tre waited for the moment of recognition—the widening of the eyes that always led to, “Holy shit, you’re Tre Griffin,” but it didn’t happen. “I said, why would you order a ginger ale at a bar?” Tre offered an easy smile. “But it was a rhetorical question.” “Beer gives me a headache,” the man replied, as if he didn’t hear the latter part of Tre’s comment. “And I have a stack of papers to get through this weekend.” He sighed, and for a moment, his full bottom lip almost jutted into a fullblown pout. “Which is why I’m here, clearly avoiding facing what will inevitably give me a headache anyway.” Tre didn’t reply immediately. He eyed his half-finished beer, weighing his options. He could engage this man in a friendly conversation, or he could go back to his brooding bad mood. “What sort of papers do you have to get through? Better do them tonight if you want to watch the big game on Sunday.” “Freshman essays discussing whether or not Sacco and Vanzetti had their political civil liberties violated,” came the automatic response. He glanced at Tre, his frown back. “What big game?” Tre couldn’t bite back his grin at the man’s entirely innocent question. “Nothing. Not important. So, do you teach freshman history or freshman literature?” “History.” The bartender set the ginger ale down in front of him, prompting the stranger to reach for it. “Literature would be a blessing at this point.” “I was just a credit short of a minor in history. I don’t think 4

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I could ever teach it, though. Seems like a pretty thankless job.” Tre watched as the man took a swallow of his drink, then set it down, licking his lips. He had nice lips. And once Tre noticed how nice the man’s mouth was, he couldn’t stop noticing. A part of him knew it would be safer, wiser, to walk away now. “Let me make up for the hell I put my profs through and buy that ginger ale for you.” The man’s surprise came as a soft flush across his cheeks, a slight rise in his brows. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you weren’t that much hell.” His gaze darted over Tre’s broad shoulders, the powerful forearms visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Tre would have sworn they lingered for a second too long on his legs before jumping back to his face. “Or at least, not as much as the lot I’ve been cursed with this term.” “It would go a long way toward soothing my guilty conscious,” Tre said, gesturing to the bartender. “Could you please put his drink on my room? And anything else he orders.” Turning back to the stranger, he extended his hand. “I’m Tre, by the way.” The man took it, fingers long and curving lightly around Tre’s. “Michael.” He held up his glass in a salute. “And thank you.” Tre was momentarily captivated by the way Michael’s fingers felt against his. And by the way his pale skin contrasted against Tre’s darker tones. He knew what the problem was. It had been a very, very long time since he had been with another man. Celibacy made more sense than the 5

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alternative, most of the time. He’d rather do without than risk getting caught with his dick in the wrong hole. “It’s no problem.” Tre took a long sip of his beer. “What are you doing grading papers in a hotel?” “Because it’s preferable to staying at my parents’ house and fielding endless questions on why they aren’t grandparents yet.” His smile was rueful, and the way he ducked his head, as if he were embarrassed, adorably cute. “I’m in town for a family get-together this weekend. It’s just easier if I’m not around them more than I have to be.” Tre nodded, doing his best to dampen the spark of hope at Michael’s casual words. He was not going to pick up some strange man tonight. Even if the man didn’t know anything about football. Even if the man didn’t look at him with disappointment, like Tre had done something to betray him personally. Even if Tre was lonely, and Michael had smooth skin and a nice mouth. Still, it would be good to know if he could pick him up, if that was what he wanted. “My parents are the same way. Well, they would be, if I ever brought home a nice girl.” Michael smiled, and his speculative gaze swept over Tre again. “Sometimes bad girls have their advantages,” he commented. “At this point, Mom would certainly be happy with a bad girl.” Tre looked at his companion carefully. “She’d argue bad girls are better than no girls at all.” The long seconds their eyes locked told Tre all he needed to know. 6

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Shifting on his stool to face him a little more directly, Michael reached in front of Tre for a handful of peanuts. “My mother would likely pose the same argument. If I thought it wouldn’t give her a heart attack, I’d probably show up with a date to the get-together this weekend to put an end to it, once and for all.” “I actually did that once, a few years ago. She refused to believe he was anything but my good friend and the issue was dropped.” Which was mostly true. She told him she wouldn’t believe Roger was anything except his teammate, and if he kept insisting otherwise, he wouldn’t be welcome home again. It was the first, and last, time he’d had the courage to try that stunt. “He was able to keep his hands off someone who looks like you do long enough for her not to know?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Michael colored and picked up his ginger ale, gulping at it in long draughts. “I mean, maybe a little public display might have helped in that situation.” Tre was beginning to think that a little private display might help this situation. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he found the blush extremely alluring. Maybe because he didn’t know anybody who blushed so easily. “I doubt it would have helped that particular situation. But you might want to give it a shot. Guy like you should be able to find somebody on short notice easily enough.” Michael snorted. Popping a few peanuts into his mouth, he shook his head. “Nobody wants to listen to a history geek. Nobody that interests me, at least.” 7

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“Why do you think that? I know quite a few guys who wouldn’t mind listening to a history geek.” Tre shrugged casually. “I’d enjoy it. Under the right circumstances.” The slight pressure on his knee returned as Michael shifted his weight on the stool again. He licked his lips once, then again, before swallowing to speak. “I think if I ever found the right circumstances where someone like you would enjoy listening to someone like me, I’d probably be on my knees in a heartbeat thanking him.” The flirtation had been mild up to that point, but suddenly, Tre was taking it very seriously. The image of this man on his knees, his full lips wrapped around Tre’s cock, his cheeks hollowed out, his throat vibrating, and Tre pushing deeper, was too much to ignore. His cock twitched, his erection growing. “I think it probably wouldn’t be too hard to find the right circumstances. Some place more private would be a good start.” “That would…be an excellent place to start.” Tossing back the last of the peanuts, Michael dropped his hand to his lap. Except it wasn’t his lap. It was Tre’s thigh, and those long fingers were caressing the rigid muscle. “Acoustics are important, I think. If you want to hear me properly.” Acoustics? It took a moment for Tre’s mind to catch up with Michael’s suggestion, but when it did, his cock jerked again. “I think there’s a place with good acoustics around the corner.” Tre stood and tried to discreetly adjust his erection in his 8

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jeans before gathering up his bag. He couldn’t help but scan the faces in the room, looking for anybody looking at him. Michael wasn’t following him, of course. He seemed the type to be smart enough to allow a few minutes to pass before he made his own way to the restroom. Still, if he thought anybody there recognized him, or would notice what was going on, he’d simply keep walking to the elevator bank. Fortunately, nobody gave him any reason to pause or change direction, and by the time he reached the bathroom, he was rock hard. It seemed forever before the door swung open again. It took all of Tre’s control just to glance up from where he was standing at the sink, hoping to appear nonchalant in case it was someone other than Michael who entered. But there he was, green eyes bright behind his glasses, the line of his erection clear behind the well-cut pants. Without breaking away from where their gazes met in the mirror, Michael reached behind him and locked the door. “You’re not really interested in my theories regarding political civil liberties, now are you?” he asked softly. Tre turned to face him. “Actually, in general I am.” He wrapped his fingers around Michael’s wrist, careful not to squeeze him too hard, and pulled him against his chest. He dipped his head, not quite touching Michael’s mouth, and inhaled deeply. He just smelled of soap and sweat and Miami humidity. He fit well against Tre’s broader frame, and he could already imagine what it would be like to have Michael’s long legs wrapped around him. “Right this second? Not 9

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really.” “Good. Because I doubt very much I could put one together with you touching me like this.” A long hand skimmed over Tre’s shoulder, fingertips grazing along his neck where it was exposed by his collar. “May I touch you?” Tre’s hands moved down Michael’s back to grip his firm ass. His clothes and the shape of his body were deceptive. Tre could feel his toned muscles tense and jump beneath his fingers. “Please.” Michael lifted both hands to Tre’s collar, nimble fingers working at the buttons one by one. As soon as the top three were open, he leaned forward and licked the hollow of Tre’s throat, his breath warm and quick where it fanned over the skin. “I don’t know how your good friend got away with fooling your mother,” he murmured. “You’re one of the most delicious men I’ve ever seen.” Tre dropped his head back, sighing as Michael explored further with his mouth. Chills cascaded down his back with each swipe of Michael’s tongue, and he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to let Michael taste every inch of his body. This wasn’t the time or the place for that. The bar wasn’t busy, but if they kept the bathroom locked for too long, somebody would notice. Tre’s hands moved to the front of Michael’s body, and he tugged at his belt to free it. He needed to get to Michael’s cock, to see if it looked and felt as good as the rest of him. As soon as the button and zipper were open, Tre pushed his hand 10

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into Michael’s pants, eagerly fisting his hot shaft. A strangled cry came from Michael’s throat. In the next gasp, his teeth sank into the nearest flesh—in this case, Tre’s nipple. He sucked hard, finally giving up on the shirt, and went straight for the long line of Tre’s cock inside his jeans. “Oh, that’s it.” Tre groaned as soon as Michael worked his pants open. His fingers were warm, and he wasn’t hesitant at all. His teeth were still buried in Tre’s nipple, and his grip was much harder, much tighter, than Tre had anticipated. But he wasn’t complaining. “Fuck, that’s good.” His free hand went to the back of Michael’s head and he grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing him to look up. “I don’t know what you were planning on, but I want to fuck you.” His mouth was even more enticing with the glitter of desire in his eyes. “I’m planning on riding your dick until I come all over both of us.” He jerked his head over Tre’s shoulder. “Machine’s behind you.” Tre let him go long enough to fumble change out of his pocket and get a condom from the wall-mounted machine. By the time he turned back, Michael had already slithered out of his pants, pumping his long slim, cock as he leaned against the wall. It was true he was in the middle of a long dry-spell, but Tre couldn’t remember the last time anybody had looked at him with such raw hunger. And the change in Michael was almost mind blowing. He had seemed the very definition of mild-mannered when Tre first saw him, but now Tre did not doubt for a moment that Michael intended to do exactly what 11

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he said he would. Tre unrolled the condom down his ready cock, then licked his palm and smoothed it over the head, spreading the condom’s lubricant down his length. Michael watched each move with unwavering eyes. When Tre was ready, he closed the small space between them and Michael lifted one leg over his hip. Standing with his feet wide, Tre lifted him off the floor, bracing him against the wall. “It’s been awhile for me.” The smile that curved his full mouth accompanied the tight grip of Michael’s hand as he wrapped it around Tre’s cock. “Just means I’m going to feel every inch of you when you split me open.” His calves tightened around Tre’s hips as he angled the tip, dragging it over his balls before finding the tight pucker it sought. He didn’t let go, not when he pushed his weight down, not when he used his legs to pull Tre closer. He didn’t let go even when the head pushed past the outer ring, and he paused, gasping from the new intrusion. “God, you feel good,” Michael breathed. Tre would have returned the sentiment if he could have. But he didn’t have the breath to speak, and the only thing that came to mind was, oh fuck, so tight, oh fuck, so tight, so fucking tight. It took all his strength not to just slam forward and bury himself in Michael’s ass. He moved forward, Michael sunk lower, then he would move again. They worked in tandem until Tre had the length of his cock in Michael’s channel, and they were both struggling for breath. Michael’s body was bowstring tight, muscles quivering. 12

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Tre tightened his arms around Michael’s back, and rocked back. Not a lot. Not enough to take his cock out of Michael’s ass completely, but enough to give him enough room to slam forward again. With a cry, Michael’s hands shot out, gripping Tre’s biceps so hard that his nails dug into his skin, even through his shirtsleeves. “If I’d known you were going to be this amazing, I would have offered to get on my knees the second I sat down next to you.” The image Tre’d had before of Michael on his knees instantly returned to his mind, and Tre responded with another thrust. Forget hungry, had he ever been with anybody so damned enthusiastic? And he knew Michael’s eagerness was all for him, and not some image he had of Tre based on what he could do on the field with a football in hand. This wasn’t some wide-eyed kid looking to fuck a star. “Want to see you on your knees,” Tre ground out without slowing his hard rhythm. “You name it, it’s yours.” His breath was quick and shallow, matching the rise and fall of his body. Each thrust was met with a squeeze of those tense muscles around his cock, which only made Tre piston all that much harder. Leaning in, Michael mouthed the curve of his shoulder, leaving a searing trail in his tongue’s wake. His cock slapped against their stomachs with every stroke, smearing pre-come into Tre’s skin, and the thought of him shooting like he’d promised was burned indelibly onto Tre’s fevered brain. 13

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Tre didn’t know how much time passed before his balls began to tighten, but it wasn’t long enough. It wasn’t anywhere long enough. Tre wasn’t even sure the whole night would be enough for him. But he knew once the pleasure began to build at the base of his spine, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. He reached between their bodies without missing a beat and gripped Michael’s cock. The second his broad fingers touched his shaft, Michael clenched his muscles nearly hard enough to make Tre’s eyes roll back. Tre stripped his cock in time with each thrust, and Michael’s sharp teeth sank into his flesh once again. “Fuck. Want to feel you come.” He heard something like, “Not a problem,” but the words were mumbled against his skin. Hands clutched at Tre’s back, heels dug into his ass, and each bruising stroke made Michael writhe a little bit harder against the wall. It could have been seconds, or it could have been minutes when the man’s gasps turned into something sharp, something keening, echoing off the tiled walls as his entire body clamped around Tre’s shaft. His cock jerked once in Tre’s hand, and then hot fluid splashed over his fingers, slicking the path to stroke it even more. Tre didn’t release Michael’s sensitive shaft, and he writhed and jerked with each hard stroke. Somehow, Tre still had the presence of mind to bite his tongue to keep the shout from escaping his throat as he slammed Michael against the wall for the final time. The orgasm rolled through him for an eternity, his cock jerking again and again as he shot into the condom. 14

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“Oh, God,” Tre moaned, a second before he claimed Michael’s mouth in a hard, but brief kiss. Michael leaned his head back against the wall, his breathing labored. “Well, that was…” He stopped and chuckled. “I can’t really say unexpectedly amazing, because, well, look at you.” “I can say it. Not that you don’t look amazing, but…” Tre was going to tell him it’d been a long time, but Michael seemed the sort to ask questions, and Tre didn’t feel like explaining why it had been awhile for him. He tugged his stained shirt over his head and bent to retrieve a clean one from his bag. He was very aware of the way Michael eyed his body. It seemed stupid to just walk away and leave Michael in the bathroom, never to see him again, when he was looking at him like that. “Do you want to come up to my room with me?” Michael’s hands were shaking as he pushed off the wall, taking the two steps to the sink to turn on the water. “I should probably get back to my grading,” he said, washing the worst of the come off his stomach. His eyes met Tre’s in the mirror, offering a shy smile. “Except I really don’t want to. So…yes, I’d like that. Very much.” Tre couldn’t help but return his smile, though his was more relieved than anything. “I’m in room six-twenty-eight. You can come up in a bit, after I’ve had some time to get settled.” He studied Michael’s face carefully, hoping he understood why Tre didn’t want to be seen going upstairs together. “It’ll give me time to grab some clean clothes,” Michael agreed. “Should I go…purchase some more condoms, as 15

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well?” “Yeah, you should. I wasn’t prepared to meet somebody like you tonight.” Michael shifted his gaze down to his washing, but not before Tre caught the return of his blush. “I’ll take care of it then. Six-twenty-eight. I’ll be there.” Tre lingered for another moment, studying Michael, before unlocking the bathroom door and slipping into the quiet corridor. Nobody was there to witness him leave the bathroom. By the time he reached the elevator, he was nervous, and excited, and his blood was already flowing south again at the thought of Michael joining him in his room.

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CHAPTER 2 It had been a whim. A spur of the moment decision. A choice similar to a thousand he’d made before. The difference was that this time, when Michael sat down next to one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen, that most gorgeous man had noticed. He’d not only noticed, he’d kept on noticing. And in the last place in the world he’d expect to get picked up, Michael Sebastian Pappas found himself pinned to a wall by broad shoulders and chocolate eyes, shooting all over a flat stomach, coming harder than he could ever remember coming before. Things like this didn’t happen to him. They happened to articulate, sexy men who didn’t get off on dusty old books and 17

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dustier theories. Michael attracted the kind of man more interested in discussing Marx in bed than which position would get him deepest in Michael’s ass. Or his mouth. When it came to penetration, Michael was an equal opportunist. He liked his books, and he valued intelligence, but that didn’t mean he forgot everything else that came with living. Sex was a natural urge. Michael, for one, was all for wallowing in nature. He hadn’t been lying. He did have papers to grade. But the opportunity to extend the magic of their encounter was too enticing to resist. How many other chances would he get like this? Especially with someone who excited him like Tre did? It wasn’t just that Tre was absolutely delicious. It was more than the dark skin that made Michael want to lick him all over. It was more than the strong mouth, or the way his moustache and goatee had scraped in all the best ways over Michael’s lips when they’d kissed. It was more than the powerful body or the thick, beautiful cock. It was the way Tre looked at him. Like he was there. Like he saw Michael, and he liked not only what he saw, but what he heard. Not accepting the invitation was out of the question. He changed in record time, then raced downstairs to hit the hotel’s shop before it closed. The girl behind the counter smirked when he set down the box of condoms, but Michael didn’t care. She wasn’t about to get thoroughly fucked, and if he had to endure a dozen mocking clerks in order to get the rubbers, then that’s what he’d do. This night was going to be 18

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worth it. When he stood outside six-twenty-eight, Michael took a deep breath before knocking on the door. His heart felt like it was going to jackhammer out of his chest. He was pretty sure Tre would know how nervous he was the second he touched him. When Tre opened the door, he was smiling. Almost shyly. It took several years off his face. He had changed as well, into a loose fitting T-shirt and a pair of sweats. He silently pushed the door open wide enough for Michael to enter, and then shut it behind him. “Make yourself at home.” The layout was exactly like his room—two queen beds, the functional bathroom behind the door. Tre had been watching TV, the volume still low as a newscaster on CNN talked about something going on in France. Michael stepped inside, unsure exactly where to go. “I brought something to drink,” he said, holding out the sack he carried. “I stopped back at the bar. I thought, well, I’m not going to be grading those papers anyway.” Tre took the bag from him, his smile widening. “Great. I’ve got ice. And plastic cups.” He carried it over to the small table, taking the bottle from the bag as he walked. “Johnny Walker Red. Nice choice.” He poured a healthy dose for both of them. “But I’m just glad it’s not ginger ale.” When Tre passed the cup to him, their fingers brushed. After what they’d just done together, the contact should have been nothing more than incidental. But it sent a flare up his arm. And once he took his drink, Tre didn’t step back out of 19

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his personal space. “I don’t drink very often.” Michael sipped at the alcohol, glad for the burn as it went down his throat. He couldn’t stop staring at Tre. The man really was too pretty for words. “It goes straight to my head.” “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem tonight.” He reached up, his hand hovering near Michael’s face. Michael expected his touch, but he did not expect Tre to gently grip the earpiece of his glasses and slowly pull them from his face. All the blood that had been roaring in his ears went rushing south. “This is where I’m very glad I’m nearsighted,” Michael breathed. Tre set the glasses aside, then dipped his head. Michael tensed, not sure what to expect. He took a deep breath, like he was inhaling the scent of Michael’s skin, then just brushed his lips across Michael’s. “It tastes better on you.” He dipped his finger in his drink and smeared the cool liquid across Michael’s mouth before claiming his lips again. The kiss in the bathroom had been almost brutal. A reminder of the sharp edge left from fucking. This was sensual, slow and exploratory, as Tre sought every drop of alcohol, searched every corner of his mouth. Michael swayed closer, lifting a hand to cup the smooth slope of Tre’s neck. Though he was a tall man, Tre was taller, and those few inches difference was enough to make Michael ache. When they parted, it took every ounce of his control not to drag Tre back. “I guess it was a little silly of me to be 20

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nervous,” he tried to joke. “I was nervous, too. Thought maybe you’d change your mind. I don’t really do this sort of thing…well, I was going to say often, but I haven’t at all in years.” It was on the tip of Michael’s tongue to ask why, but the answer almost immediately presented itself. He was probably newly single. There was no way someone who looked like Tre didn’t have a string of steady boyfriends, and Michael had simply gotten lucky and run into him in between conquests. “I wouldn’t have changed my mind.” His gaze flickered to that full mouth. “I meant every word I said downstairs.” Tre divested himself of his cup, then took the half-empty one from Michael’s hands as it joined his glasses on the table. With his hands free, Tre gathered up the material of Michael’s T-shirt and tugged it over his head. His hands were large, his skin rough as he ran his fingers over Michael’s shoulders and down his chest. The muscles in his stomach clenched as Tre’s hand moved lower, to the waistband of his jeans. “Can I see you, too?” Michael asked hoarsely. Tre responded by stepping back and yanking his T-shirt off. One simple motion later, his pants were off, and Michael was given his first view of Tre’s body. He stood in front of Michael without a single trace of false modesty or shyness, as though he was more than comfortable with people looking at his naked body. Michael supposed if he had a body like that, he wouldn’t mind putting it on display either. Every inch of his physique was perfect. Any thoughts of anxiety vanished. All Michael wanted was 21

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to touch that beautiful chest, run his tongue around the dark, flat nipples, sink to his knees and swallow that thick cock. Stepping forward, his hands molded over the powerful biceps as he dragged his tongue along Tre’s collarbone, inhaling the musky scent of the man’s skin. Tre sucked his breath in sharply as Michael moved his mouth to the hollow of his throat. His hands went to Michael’s back, and he pressed their bodies together. Michael had had an excellent demonstration of how firm Tre’s chest was, how tight his body was, but this was a welcome refresher course. “Don’t stop,” Tre murmured, as he sought out Michael’s pants once again. A few flicks of his wrist, and Michael’s pants were suddenly undone and moving down his legs. “Can’t.” He sucked at the tender skin, toeing off his shoes in order to get his jeans free of his ankles. “Won’t.” With both of them now naked, his hands slid down the powerful back to cup the taut flesh of Tre’s ass. Michael licked a path down the middle of his chest, outlining the muscles with his tongue, first on one side, then the other. Each inch he traveled felt hotter than the last, until by the time he’d sunk to his knees, his face flamed with heat. He stopped, pulling back enough to gaze hungrily at the thick shaft bobbing in front of him. “You have the most gorgeous cock.” Tre wrapped his fingers around his shaft, stroking it once before guiding the head to Michael’s waiting mouth. He traced his lips with the velvety tip, and Michael got the barest taste of pre-come. That only made his mouth water more. Tre’s other 22

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hand went to the back of Michael’s head, cradling it gently as he pushed his cock deeper into his mouth, meeting the resistance of his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut as he savored the weight stretching his lips. He’d never been a length hound, but he did like them thick. He liked the sensation of being filled, of having something solid to sink onto. Just remembering what it had felt like to feel like to have Tre buried in his ass was enough to make Michael moan with pleasure, and he dropped his jaw wider, encouraging Tre to do the same with his throat. “Oh…yes. That’s it. That’s it.” The soft encouragement came with every inch Tre slid into his waiting throat, until his balls were touching Michael’s chin. Tre held him there for several beats, moaning each time Michael swallowed. He exhaled slowly through his nose as Tre began to pull back, but he didn’t go far before burying himself again. Each time Tre slid forward, Michael gripped his ass a little bit tighter. Each time he slid out, Michael let the edge of his teeth just skim over the throbbing vein running along the underside of Tre’s shaft. He chased after the pre-come seeping from the slit when Tre pulled out enough, but the instant he pushed in again, Michael was ready, opening wider, swallowing harder, until he was rewarded with the rich scent of the hair at the base of Tre’s cock. “Fuck…God, that’s good. So good.” It wasn’t the words that made Michael shiver. It was the sharp hunger he heard behind them. He thought he could stay on his knees like that all night. At that moment, there was 23

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nowhere else he wanted to be, and nothing else he wanted to do. But Tre obviously had different ideas about what Michael would spend the night doing, because it seemed like it wasn’t long before Tre pulled free from his mouth completely. Powerful hands hauled him upright, breaking Michael’s hold. They wrapped around his back and pulled him hard against Tre, but before Michael could protest, Tre was kissing him again, the raw edge back with every sweep of his tongue. Michael shuddered when Tre ran a finger down the crease of his ass. “Fuck me.” The pleas came between kisses, each one breathier than the last. “I want your cock back in me, Tre. Please.” “Get a condom,” Tre said, before pressing an almost bruising kiss against his mouth. He stretched out on the nearest bed, his cock laying flat and heavy against his taut stomach. Michael nearly leapt for the bag, his fingers clumsy as he rattled through the plastic. Tearing open the box, he ripped one packet off the strip, drinking in the sight of Tre in all his glory. “I still want to taste you,” he said, climbing onto the bed. The slippery latex coated his fingers as he freed it from the foil. “But riding you is even better.” “I’ve been thinking about coming in your throat since almost the moment I saw you,” Tre murmured, watching as Michael started the condom on his cock. “But right now, I’d rather be in your ass again.” As soon as the rubber was on, he climbed up the length of 24

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Tre’s body, straddling his hips. His mouth came back down, the kisses slower as the anticipation grew, and he reached behind him to grab Tre’s shaft. It throbbed against his palm, then throbbed against his ass as he ran it up and down between the cheeks. Tre groaned every time the tip glanced over his hole, Michael didn’t let it stop, continuing the caresses until the slick from the condom coated both of them. He sat up, bracing one palm on the heavily muscled chest. The other held Tre still while he lifted up, shifting his angle in order to find the tight ring of muscle. When he felt it, he caught his breath, locking eyes with Tre as he slowly sank down the hot length. By the time Tre was fully inside of him once again, Michael’s breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. Tre’s hands went to his hips, his large fingers spread out against his skin. Michael was still sensitive from the raw speed of their first time, and he felt like Tre really would rip him in two. Tre gave him time to adjust, patiently waiting until Michael’s breathing began to even before urging him to slide up his shaft. He kept it slow and shallow, swallowing convulsively as sparks crawled along his skin. He wanted to ask how long he would have to wait before getting Tre back in his mouth, or even if he was going to get that treat once Tre had come a second time. When was the last time he’d wanted somebody as much as this? Michael couldn’t remember. Then again, he was having difficulty remembering anything that might have transpired prior to seeing Tre in the bar downstairs. 25

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Tre never looked away from him, never closed his eyes, never let anything divert his attention. It was like he wanted to commit every inch and line of Michael’s body to his memory. Maybe that’s exactly what he intended to do, because soon he began exploring Michael’s body with his hands. Gentle fingers skimmed over his neck and throat, shoulders and chest, thighs, and then the top of his shaft. Michael jerked at the first contact along his cock. “I’ll come if you do that,” he warned. Tre smiled a little, but he focused on new areas of Michael’s body. He cradled Michael’s balls in his palm, squeezing gently every time he sank onto Tre’s shaft. “Can you stay tonight?” His chest seized. “I’d love to.” Falling forward, he propped himself up on his knuckles as he continued to ride Tre’s length. A smile slowly split his features. “If I do that, I can wake you up with my world-class blowjob. Guaranteed to start your day off right.” Tre cupped the back of Michael’s head and guided his mouth to his. The kiss wasn’t as hungry as the one before, but it wasn’t slow either. It seemed to be the perfect match for the rhythm between them. Michael shut his eyes, trying to hold onto every flicker of pleasure, every bit of sensation. The fingers around his sac suddenly disappeared, and they were back to his shaft. But this time, it wasn’t just a hint of contact as Tre closed his palm around Michael’s hot skin. Moans became whimpers. Skin slapped to skin. And with each stroke, both in his ass and around his cock, Michael 26

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quickened his pace. Lengthened his shifts. Sliding back and forth along Tre’s body to get the maximum sensations he could find. All the while, his mouth never left Tre’s, fused in a tangle of tongues that knew just where to taste so that the other went off in search of more. The grip around his cock tightened, while the other hand pushed his hips harder against Tre’s. The added force adjusted their angle by only a fraction of an inch, but that was all it took for the blunt head to scrape across Michael’s prostate. His body electrified, his balls tightening, and on the next drive into his body, he shot all over their chests, his ass clamping around Tre’s cock. Tre grunted. In the next second, he tensed beneath Michael, and the new throb inside his stretched passage joined with the heated pulse of his as Tre shot deep inside him. Tre’s arms went around Michael, holding him against his body. He knew he would have to move soon, clean himself up, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure he could move even if the place was on fire. “I think it’s safe to say the first time wasn’t some sort of fluke,” Tre said, his deep voice vibrating through Michael’s chest. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. He nuzzled into Tre’s neck, breathing in the musky scent of his skin. “Maybe I should go buy a lottery ticket.” “Maybe we both should. I never thought I’d be happy about a delayed flight.” Michael lifted his head. “What time do you have to be up 27

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in the morning then?” “I should probably be out of here by six-thirty or seven. My new flight is scheduled to leave at nine, weather permitting.” “Oh. Okay.” He knew it was silly, but a pang of regret sliced through him. An invitation to spend the night had given him hope of a late morning; he should have known better than to get greedy. Deliberately, he smiled and brushed his mouth across Tre’s again. “Just gives me all the more incentive to make sure you’ve got a good send-off, then.” “Hey, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had dinner tonight, and I need to keep my energy up. Do you want to order something up?” “Sounds good.” Michael peeled away, wincing slightly when Tre slipped out of his ass. “Do you mind if I hop in the shower? It’ll save me a trip back to my room.” “Go for it. I don’t plan on letting you leave any time soon anyway.” The smile he shot him as he rose from the bed was genuine, though a definite blush crept up his neck. “That makes two of us then.”

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CHAPTER 3 Tre couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a warm body in bed with him long after the fucking was over. Not since college, at least, when he was willing to risk staying over at his boyfriend’s apartment. He had forgotten how nice it was. But maybe it was just Michael who was nice, his long form draped halfway over Tre’s, his skin surprisingly smooth. The large numbers on the clock next to the bed told him he should go to sleep. His wake-up call was in three hours. He never slept on planes. His sister wouldn’t let him crash when he got there, either. Plus, he was exhausted. But he was wired, too. Having a strange person in bed with him made his skin warm, and the back of his neck tingle. It was more exciting 29

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than soothing. Tre didn’t know if that was because of the novelty of the situation, or because the body in bed with him was Michael. Michael stirred beside him, and his eyes reflected the room’s dim light. On impulse, Tre touched his cheek with his thumb. It was rough with fresh stubble. “Thought you were asleep.” “I was.” The hand resting on Tre’s stomach flexed in slow motion, fingertips drawing over the skin before relaxing again. “Now I’m not.” “You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow. And you’re going to have extra work. I kept you from your grading.” Michael moved closer, his lips grazing over Tre’s bicep. “I can always sleep after you’re gone. And I don’t have to be at my parents’ until Sunday. I don’t want to lose time I don’t need to.” Tre felt a twinge at the mention of Sunday, but it was surprisingly small, his regret dampened by the night they just had. “I don’t want to lose time either. Where are you from?” “Originally? Milwaukee. But I’ve lived in DC since college. I teach at Georgetown.” He propped his head up on his hand. “What about you? Are you flying home tomorrow?” “No, I live here in Miami for most of the year. But my family still lives in Chicago, and I’m flying up to spend a few weeks with my twin sister, Tracy. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t know what was going on in Mom’s head.” He ran his fingers down Michael’s spine. “Nobody in their right mind would want to be in Chicago in January 30

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instead of Miami, but I can’t stand it here right now.” A sleepy smile curved Michael’s mouth. “Is there a hurricane coming in I don’t know about? Please say yes. Let me have an excuse to go home before Sunday.” “No, no hurricane. I just get restless this time of year.” Which was actually true. The end of the season always made him shiftless, like he was a little bit lost. “I guess you can take the boy out of Chicago, but…Why do you want to get out of seeing your family?” “I hate having to pretend. My mom would never understand me being gay.” He sighed. “I wasn’t kidding about the heart attack.” “I get that. Believe me. And it’s not just my family. If anybody knew…I think tonight is the first time in a long time I haven’t needed to pretend.” The look in Michael’s eyes softened, and he lifted his hand from Tre’s stomach to ghost fingertips over his mouth. “You don’t have to worry about me. I know what discretion is.” “I appreciate that.” For a brief moment, Tre wondered if Michael would be discreet if he knew anything about professional sports. He would probably get a decent chunk of change for selling his story. But almost as soon as he thought it, he dismissed the notion. Because Michael wasn’t like that, he was sure of it. “So is there anybody waiting for you back at Georgetown?” “Just Sam and Taylor. My cats.” His smile was sheepish. “I wasn’t kidding in the bar. I don’t find very many men I like who…are interested in men like me.” 31

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“You can’t find many men who are interested in gorgeous, intelligent guys like you? What sort of men are you looking for?” Even in the dim light, Michael’s flush was clear. “I’m not gorgeous. Not like you.” Tre didn’t have an opinion on his own looks, but he very much disagreed with Michael’s assessment of himself. “All I know is, as soon as I saw you downstairs, I didn’t want to look away. Sam and Taylor? Are you a poetry fan, too?” His brows shot up. “You know Coleridge? Nobody ever gets the reference.” Tre laughed softly. “Yeah, I’m familiar with old S.T. Though I’m also deeply closeted when it comes to my affinity for the Romantics. I don’t think I know many people who would really get it.” “Well, I do.” Tre was surprised when Michael suddenly moved on top of him, aligning their bodies perfectly. Though he held himself up, he dropped slow, lazy kisses along Tre’s jaw, leaving behind a trail of heat. “Thanks for making this weekend a good one for me,” he murmured. “Sunday’s not going to be so bad now, I don’t think.” Tre sighed, smoothing his hands down Michael’s back. “I should be thanking you. You’ve already made this weekend a thousand times better. I can’t even tell you…” His words faded as Michael shifted, his mouth moving to Tre’s neck. Why am I leaving again? “When are you going back to DC? 32

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Monday morning?” “Yeah.” He sucked gently at the spot where neck met shoulder. “I have a night class on Mondays. God, I love the way you taste.” That worked out well for Tre, because he loved the way Michael’s mouth felt. “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to leave in the morning.” “That’s not exactly incentive for me to stop, you know.” “What would be incentive to continue?” The question seemed to take Michael by surprise, and he lifted his head to gaze down at him. “You’d really stay?” “Yeah. I think I would. I don’t have anywhere I need to be. And maybe Miami isn’t so bad. With the right sort of company.” Delight flared in his eyes, but there wasn’t time for Tre to appreciate their brilliance before Michael was ducking his head again, this time seeking out Tre’s mouth. The kiss that followed was deep and thorough, stubble scraping deliciously across Tre’s chin as Michael set to devour him. Tre rolled over, pinning Michael beneath him without breaking the kiss. He ran his hands down Michael’s arms and ribs. His body was muscled if trim, hard in all the right places. He was built like a wide receiver, or a fast corner back. Curious, Tre lifted his head. “Do you play any sports or work out?” Michael snorted. “Me and sports? I don’t think so. I cycle. I only use my car when the weather won’t let me ride.” Tre slid down Michael’s body, tracing his form with his 33

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fingertips. Michael squirmed a little, jumping when Tre found a particularly sensitive spot. He brushed his mouth over Michael’s jaw and neck, then his chest, enjoying the musky smell of his sweat, and the hotel soap. Tre could even smell traces of himself on Michael’s skin. “So, you’re not big on athletics. What about athletes?” The rise and fall of Michael’s chest was quickening with each stroke of Tre’s tongue. It took very little to get Michael to respond to him, he was learning. He just didn’t know for sure whether or not that was a natural reaction or something purely for Tre. “I don’t know any,” Michael said breathlessly. “Except for the ones in my intro classes. History isn’t sexy enough for them apparently.” “Their loss, I guess,” Tre murmured, swiping his tongue over Michael’s nipple. “But I think history is sexy. Have I mentioned that already?” “I’m beginning to figure that out.” When Tre caught the tip between his teeth, Michael dug his fingertips into the muscle of Tre’s upper back. “I thought I was supposed to be doing this to you.” Tre smiled. As much as he liked Michael’s mouth—and he really, really liked it—he wanted the chance to get his own taste. “You were. But you don’t mind indulging me for now, do you?” Wordlessly, Michael shook his head. He loosened his hold, but not before Tre felt the faint tremor in his hands. There were lots of things Tre missed about having a lover 34

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or a boyfriend. Chief among those was the way a man looked, and felt, and tasted beneath him. He liked to have the firm muscles against his body. He liked the feel of a cock hardening against his stomach. He loved to lick the line of a defined hip, the seam of a thigh, the curve of an ass. He liked to spend the time to get to know another body—and the occasional anonymous lay didn’t really give him that chance. But this wasn’t quite so anonymous anymore. And if he was going to be spending the whole weekend with the man… “Tell me what you like,” Tre encouraged without stopping his exploration. “What…” His throat worked, swallowing again and again. “What do you mean? Like sexually? Or what I’d order for breakfast?” Tre smiled. “Both. What makes for a night of great sex? What do you eat for breakfast afterward?” The way Michael looked at him made him wonder if anybody had ever bothered to ask him that before. “I tend to bottom more than top,” he said. “I like…I like guys who are bigger than me, who can pin me down. I like feeling the weight push me into the mattress. I have an oral fixation that never seems to get satisfied. Even when I can give a blowjob, that’s all most guys are interested in. They don’t want to know how great it can feel to have his balls sucked before my mouth gets anywhere near his cock, or maybe have a good, long rimming session first.” Tre gripped the sheet as Michael talked, unable to suppress the shiver that rolled down his spine. If he hadn’t already 35

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made up his mind to stay, he would have been convinced to change his flight after his explanation. If nothing else, he needed to stick around long enough to find out each and every amazing thing Michael could do with his mouth. His own mouth hovered above Michael’s stomach, and he stopped there, resisting the impulse to move lower. He wanted Michael to keep talking to him, and Tre assumed contact below the waist might distract Michael from conversation. “Is that what you want to do this weekend? Try to satisfy your oral fixation?” Fingers traced his jaw, almost tickling with how light they were. “Would you let me try?” “I will definitely let you try.” “Then that’s what I want.” He swallowed. “I look at you, and…my mouth waters.” Tre was used to that sort of reaction, from men and women. It wasn’t immodest to acknowledge that in a lot of ways, he met the ideal of physical perfection. The cult of the athlete was alive and well in the United States. And Tre’s popularity with both sexes only rose as he began to get more and more media coverage. But Tre had never seen anybody quite so sincere. Michael wasn’t exaggerating. Every reaction and response to Tre was honest. It just made Tre wish this weekend could last even longer. “Should we put an order in for breakfast then?” Michael was saying. “Or do you want to go out to eat?” “No,” Tre said, maybe a little too quickly. “No, I would rather order in. We can have a lazy morning.” 36

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His haste went unnoticed. Michael only smiled and let his fingers drift over Tre’s mouth again. “Pancakes, maybe. I can lick the syrup off your cock.” Tre groaned. “Sometimes I can’t believe the way you talk.” His hand stilled. “Why? What do you mean?” “History professors don’t tend to have such a dirty mouth, do they? Not that I have a problem with it. I really don’t.” “Well, I don’t talk to my students like this,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d have lost my job a long time ago if I did. I guess you just…inspire me.” Tre licked down the line of Michael’s hip, sliding his tongue against the smooth skin until it guided him to the base of his cock. “Lucky me,” he murmured as he slid his cheek along Michael’s smooth shaft. A whimper escaped Michael’s chest, and the hand that wasn’t caressing Tre’s jaw fisted the blankets at his side. “What do you like? Since you know what I like now.” “Hmm.” He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh near Michael’s thigh, but not hard enough to hurt him. “I like to fuck. I mean, I like everything. Blowjobs are great. But there’s nothing like pounding my dick into somebody’s ass.” The cock near Tre’s cheek twitched, and a drop of precome appeared at the slit. “Maybe next time, I can be on my back,” Michael suggested. His voice sounded raw. “We both get what we love that way.” Tre pulled the tip of Michael’s cock between his lips, 37

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chasing the clear fluid with his tongue. Michael jerked, as though he hadn’t expected the contact, and more salty precome coated Tre’s lips. His own cock was almost fully erect, and his balls felt heavy. He wasn’t surprised by this, even though he knew he should be completely spent for the night. He released Michael’s cock and looked up. “Yeah, I think that’s just what we should do.” Michael sighed and smiled, blinking heavily as if he was still fighting sleep. “Is this going to be before or after I get my mouth on you?” “After. I want to see what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve.” Tre nuzzled and licked Michael’s cock, watching as his eyes grew heavy. Despite his arousal, it was clear to Tre that he wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer. Tre dragged himself back up his body, resting on his knuckles once his mouth was even with Michael’s. “You look tired.” “That doesn’t mean we have to stop.” Michael glided hands along Tre’s back, slow and tender. “I don’t want to sleep if you’re not.” “I couldn’t sleep because I thought I was leaving in three hours.” He pulled Michael’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently. “But now we’ve got all weekend.” “I’m very glad I ordered ginger ale now.” Sweeping his tongue out, he tasted the corners of Tre’s mouth before kissing him lightly. “You might not have talked to me otherwise.” “I was just looking for an excuse to chat you up.” Tre smiled. “Call me Mister Smooth.” “You could have saved the effort and just crooked a finger 38

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at me. That would have worked, too.” “I’ll keep that in mind next time I want your attention.” His languid smile was enough to make Tre ache, but Michael’s hands had already halted their caresses, one resting lightly in the small of Tre’s back, the other on his ass. “I’m not usually so easy, you know.” His words were as slow as his touch had been. “You seem to inspire that, too.” “I believe you.” Tre settled on his side, pulling Michael tight against his body. “You inspire more than a few…out of the ordinary impulses in me.” He brushed his lips across the nape of Michael’s neck, and his short hair tickled Tre’s nose. “Go to sleep now. We can pick up this conversation in the morning.” “Over pancakes.” “Over pancakes,” Tre agreed, his hand resting on Michael’s stomach. It wasn’t long until the other man’s breathing evened once again, his firm body going lax against Tre’s. Despite his assurances, he didn’t fall asleep immediately. He couldn’t. He was too busy watching Michael sleep and wondering why this one was worth studying.

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CHAPTER 4 It wasn’t the day Michael expected. Well, parts of it were. Breakfast was expected, if only because much of it had been his idea. When he woke up, it was to the scent of pancakes and the sound of Tre’s low voice as he thanked whoever had delivered the room service. Drizzling maple syrup over Tre’s cock before sucking him down his throat had been his idea, too. At least, he thought so. Some of their middle of the night conversation was a blur to him. As exciting a thought as it was, they didn’t spend the entire day fucking. A morning nap was followed by a long discussion about living in the nation’s capital, and an hour 40

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later, Michael realized Tre was almost as intelligent as he was good-looking. He had strong opinions about politics and world events, but even when they didn’t agree, he was willing to concede on arguments he couldn’t refute. Of course, their discussion ended when Michael deliberately made a caustic remark about Tre’s favorite senator. Within moments, he was bent over the side of the bed, an unyielding hand between his shoulder blades, and a thick cock shoving into his unstretched ass. He made a mental note to argue with Tre more often if this was the result he got. It was over dinner—room service again—that the thought came to him. “Do you want to go out tonight?” He dipped a fry in the mayonnaise he had requested. “We’ve been cooped up in here all day. It might be nice to get out for a couple hours.” Tre chewed a bite of his steak thoughtfully before answering. “I don’t know. If we went out, you’d have to get dressed.” “Good point.” So far, he’d managed to avoid it. The best he’d managed was to slip his jeans on so that he wasn’t eating buck naked. “On the other hand, you’d get the privilege of taking those clothes off me again when we get back. And I’d get the same.” He grinned. “We still haven’t satisfied my oral fixation yet, you know.” “Or, you could satisfy your oral fixation now, and we can go out and have lunch or see a movie or something tomorrow.” 41

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He would have jumped all over it if Tre hadn’t mentioned the next day. “I can’t,” Michael said ruefully. “I have to be at parents’ by eleven.” “Oh. And you’re going to be there all day?” “Most of it. I can probably get out of there by eight or nine, but any earlier will just lead to headaches later on down the road.” “You really do sound like you’re being marched off to the gallows every time you talk about your family.” Michael shrugged. “I’ve just never had much in common with most of them. Family get-togethers get old very fast when nobody wants to talk to you except your mother and your cousin Chad who thinks anybody living in Washington is a lying, corrupt bastard.” Tre studied him for a few moments, his dark eyes inscrutable. “No, I guess that doesn’t sound like a very good time. Would it be…better if you had somebody there to keep you company?” “Well, of course, it would…” His eyes widened behind his glasses, his heart suddenly hammering. “You would do that for me?” It seemed too good to be true. “It depends. What are you willing to do for me?” Michael would have offered anyway, but… “Anything. Anything you want.” “I don’t know if I could stay until eight or nine. That’s a pretty long day. But, yeah, I’ll be happy to come and keep you company.” Tre smiled. “Plus, I don’t think I’ve had enough of your mouth.” 42

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He was done with food. Before the last word was out of Tre’s mouth, Michael pushed aside his room service tray and rose from where he sat on the spare bed to cross to the desk. He turned the chair more fully around, standing between Tre’s legs, and bent down. He didn’t kiss Tre. Instead, he smoothed his palms over his shoulders and down his chest, licking up and down the side of Tre’s neck as he reached for the hem of the T-shirt. “You have to be naked before I can show you how grateful I am,” Michael murmured against his skin. Tre obediently lifted his arms, allowing the T-shirt to be whisked over his head. Michael couldn’t resist running his fingers down Tre’s back, and then over the very defined muscles in his abdomen. His touch was light, but Tre’s reaction was immediate, and Michael could see the outline of Tre’s erection against his sweats before Tre stood and pushed the pants down his hips. His skin was too tight. Looking at Tre was almost as good as touching him which in turn, paled next to the delight in tasting him. Michael swallowed once, and then twice, before pressing his mouth to the sculpted shoulder in front of him. “Is there anything I can’t do?” he asked huskily. “Anything you’d prefer I didn’t?” Tre sighed. “No. No. I want you to do anything you want.” He silently thanked whatever god was shining down on him this weekend. Letting his lips trail across Tre’s skin, Michael circled around his body, pushing the desk chair out of his way in order to stand behind him. His mouth ended at 43

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Tre’s nape, nibbling at the skin at the top of his spine, and he curled his arms around Tre’s chest, tracing around the flat nipples at the same tempo. It brought their bodies flush together, and the taut curves of Tre’s ass pressed to his hips. Tre dropped his head forward with a soft moan, his hand covering Michael’s as Michael continued to caress his nipple. Michael moved his mouth down Tre’s back in a line of soft kisses, his lips only pressed against his skin long enough to sample the salty texture. His hands moved lower with his mouth, and they settled on Tre’s hips as Michael sank to his knees. There was a dip at the small of Tre’s back that Michael had admired on more than one occasion when the other man would turn away for him, or walk to the bathroom, or roll over in his sleep. He explored it now, tracing the swell of flesh, while his fingertips caressed the hard lines on either side of Tre’s cock. When he stretched his hands, he tangled with the coarse hair at the base, and the muscles twitched beneath his hands, evidence of the effect he was having on Tre even if he couldn’t see it for himself. Michael rubbed his cheek against the smooth skin of Tre’s ass. “I want to bury my tongue in you. I even dreamt about it last night.” “If you’re going to do that, you should let me lie down first.” Tre’s voice was already gruff—another good gauge of the effect Michael had on him. Michael grudgingly released him as Tre took a step forward, but didn’t rise from his place on the floor until after Tre was stretched out, facedown on the 44

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mattress, his brow resting on his arm. Somehow, the image of his body was even more arresting when he was lying down. Possibly because he was spread out on the thin hotel comforter like a dying man’s last meal. Michael gently forced his thighs apart. His legs were like marble beneath Michael’s hands, hard and muscular, and it was too irresistible not to smooth his hands over the taut skin. Tre grunted, as if it was ticklish, but otherwise didn’t move, encouraging Michael to bend down and taste where he touched. He started at the back of the knee and licked upward. Abandoning his hold on the other leg, he slid his hands beneath Tre’s thigh, one holding him still, the other sliding upward to graze alongside Tre’s trapped cock. Michael continued to brush his fingers against Tre’s shaft, his touch light, almost teasing. His mouth continued to move upward, until he reached the curve of Tre’s sculpted ass. He followed the line of his body up to the small of his back, and then back down the other side. He couldn’t just lick him. Some bits of skin demanded a small kiss. He nibbled other bits, applying the smallest pressure with his teeth. By the time Michael reached the top of the other thigh, Tre squirmed against the bed, the slightest of undulations that scraped his cock along the comforter. Michael pulled his hand free and settled it on top of Tre’s ass, and immediately, Tre stopped moving. Michael didn’t. He dragged his mouth to the warm crease, centering his position as he grasped each cheek and gently pried them apart. His heart pounded with anticipation. Leaning down, he set 45

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the tip of his tongue along the top of the seam and ran it all the way down, skimming over the tight hole, not stopping until he reached Tre’s tight balls. Tenderly, he sucked the dark sac into his mouth, groaning in unison with Tre. Tre tensed, writhing against the bed. It didn’t matter if Michael increased the suction around his sac, or just gently smoothed his tongue over the soft skin, Tre squirmed. When Michael increased the pressure of his hand against Tre’s ass, he stilled for a moment. But just a moment. He apparently couldn’t hold himself still—almost as if he weren’t accustomed to the contact at all. Might as well make all the movement worth it. As reluctant as he was to leave the velvety skin, the prospect of feeling Tre push back against his face as he slid into his hole was too delicious to resist. Michael licked back up, but the moment his tongue touched the opening, Tre tensed. If he needed any more proof that this was relatively new for Tre, that was it. It only made Michael more determined to make this amazing for him. He outlined the tight muscle with the tip of his tongue, over and over and over again. He deliberately opted not to penetrate. This was about anticipation. This was also about savoring each second of contact, the way Tre’s flesh trembled against his tongue, the sounds he couldn’t contain. They made Michael ache, just as effectively as touching Tre did. Michael smoothed his hands up and down Tre’s back as he continued to trace the ring of muscle with his tongue. Tre didn’t move for several moments, but Michael didn’t let that 46

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discourage him from his task. But when he did push up from the bed, it was clear what he wanted. Michael’s fingers went to Tre’s hips, holding him as the tip of his tongue probed his hole. His eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on the sensations. The heat. The tightness. The texture. His hands dug into Tre’s flesh, as much to corral his control as it was to keep Tre in position. What Michael wanted more than anything was to just let go. For both of them, though, he knew it would be better the slower he went. He kept his strokes shallow, only allowing the tip to penetrate the tight pucker. Every once in a while, he let his teeth rake across the untouched flesh around it, and his cock jumped with the shudders that wracked through Tre’s powerful body. Inwardly, Michael smiled. It was reassuring to know he wasn’t the only one affected by this. Tre’s moans didn’t become words until Michael slipped a little on his self-control. The faster he moved, the more encouragement came from Tre’s mouth. Pleas. Assurances. Even some cursing. It was the most vocal Tre had ever been during sex, and each word seemed to go directly to Michael’s groin, increasing the pressure between his legs. Michael moved one hand from Tre’s body to his own cock, stroking it in a futile effort to relieve the growing ache. Every time he moved his hand over his shaft, he imagined it was Tre’s strong fingers instead. Every time he thrust his tongue deep and deeper into Tre’s ass, he imagined it was Tre, burying his cock in Michael’s. Bites slipped in between 47

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probes, and the slight give of the flesh made him moan in delight. Back and forth he went, harder and faster until even Tre was covered in a slight sheen of sweat. “Michael…I need…” That was Michael’s only warning before Tre rolled away from him. Moving with surprising speed, Tre grabbed Michael by the shoulders and shoved him to the bed. Michael swallowed as Tre reached for one of the remaining condoms on the nightstand. “Do you want to be on your back?” “Please. God, yes, please…” While Tre sat back on his heels to roll the rubber over his cock, Michael shimmied out of his jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed. He groaned when Tre reached between his thighs, long fingers probing his ass, and spread his legs wide in order to make it easier. Tre slid two fingers into Michael’s ass, stretching the muscle to accommodate his cock. Michael’s breath hitched as Tre added a third finger, twisting his wrist and brushing against his prostate. Michael wanted to tell him he was ready, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Tre pushed his fingers deeper, silencing him. Michael twisted, his hips lifting off the bed, straining for more. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, Tre pulled his hand away and prepared to replace it with his cock. Michael sighed as the blunt head breached the tight outer ring, pushing his head back into the pillow as he focused on the pure pleasure of being filled. Tre gripped his thighs, holding them still as he sheathed his length, and Michael 48

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reached down to caress the backs of Tre’s fingers. “I love how you feel,” he breathed. “Can’t get enough of you,” Tre murmured. He released Michael’s thighs and bent, propping himself up with his hands on either side of Michael’s shoulders. He remained motionless for an impossible moment, then slowly pulled out. At first, Michael thought Tre intended to set a long, slow rhythm, and the thought of it had Michael twitching with impatience. But the light in Tre’s eyes should have been enough warning that he did not have anything slow in mind. The second stroke was bruising, hard enough to make Michael cry out. His hands flew to grip Tre’s shoulders, his chest tightening with each ensuing, powerful thrust, and his words came out in harsh pants, his breath hard to catch. “You fuck me now like you haven’t done it already.” Tre responded by slamming forward again. Michael realized that Tre had always been very aware of his own strength, and very careful about it. But he wasn’t being careful about it now, and the muscles Michael had spent so many hours touching and admiring were now flexed hard as Tre drove into him again and again. Michael only tightened his grip and locked his legs around Tre’s hips. “That’s it…that’s it…fuck, right there, fuck…” It was the sudden twist in Tre’s angle that drove any sort of coherency from Michael’s litany. Fire raced through his veins as Tre pistoned in and out of his ass, now scraping across his prostate with every stroke. Without thought, Michael grabbed Tre’s nape and dragged him down, slamming 49

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their mouths together with the same furious hunger that punctuated their hips. Tre didn’t hesitate or shy away from the kiss. His tongue plunged into Michael’s eager mouth, and he dominated the caress, controlling it completely. Michael was happy to let him, happy to be forced into the mattress with each powerful thrust, happy to be pinned beneath Tre’s weight and strength. Whenever Tre gave him the space, Michael gasped for air, only to pull him back to his mouth the second he had enough. His cock was trapped between their stomachs, but between the heat and the friction and Tre’s vigorous assault on his prostate, Michael knew he wasn’t going to last long. It was both too much and not enough, each stroke fueling his desire for more just as they spurred him closer to climax. More. And more. Even if this weekend would easily go down as one of the best of his life. He came without ever touching his cock, tearing away from the kisses to slam his head back into the pillow, the tendons standing out in his neck as his cock coated both of them in come. Tre immediately dropped his mouth to Michael’s shoulder, and the first hard suck made him grapple to hold on, his fingers digging into Tre’s ass as he writhed beneath him. The hard suction on his shoulder turned into a sharp bite as Tre pushed forward one final time, and then froze above him. The hard jerk of his cock against Michael’s muscles was enough to send another spasm of pleasure through his body, and he clenched around Tre’s shaft, drawing a long moan from 50

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his throat. Several seconds passed before Tre was still, and only then did he slowly slide out of him. He didn’t move away though. As their breathing began to return to normal, he brushed his lips across Michael’s swollen mouth, then smiled. “I think that one was my favorite.” “Mine, too.” He matched the curve of Tre’s mouth, sliding a hand up and down his sweaty spine. “Great minds obviously think alike.” “Obviously. You know, you’re the first one who has ever done that to me.” “Done what?” His eyes widened slightly when he realized the answer to his own question. “Nobody’s ever rimmed you before? With an ass like yours? That’s just wrong.” “Now that I know how it feels, I agree.” Tre shifted his weight, settling on his side, his head propped up on his hand. “I don’t really want this weekend to end.” “Oh, if I could find a way to keep today on permanent rotation, you can bet I would,” Michael joked. “Would you consider meeting again?” The room vanished around them. All he saw was Tre, and his soft chocolate eyes, and his luscious mouth. Post-coital bliss made him look even more gorgeous. “Of course, I would. But…you live here. And I live in DC.” Michael smiled, trying to ignore the sudden hammering in his chest. “Though my mom would probably be glad of more visits from me, that’s for sure.” “Well, I have a house in Miami. A few trips up to DC isn’t 51

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a problem for me. I have a very flexible schedule…most of the year.” If he’d ever been asked to define his perfect friend with benefits, Michael wouldn’t have described someone like Tre. He never would have thought someone like Tre was attainable for someone like him. But Tre looked perfectly serious about his suggestion, and even though Michael was well aware that making any kind of plans after orgasms bordered on infinitely stupid, it was dizzying to consider what it might be like if they really did make that sort of arrangement. “We might be able to work something out.” He lifted his head to skim a kiss across Tre’s mouth. “When my brain decides to function properly again.” Tre smiled. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow. Because there’s no way I’m letting you go without at least getting your number.” Tomorrow. After a day spent with his family. Inwardly, Michael sighed. “All right,” he agreed. “Tomorrow.”

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CHAPTER 5 Michael’s parents didn’t live in a mansion, but they still seemed to have a very comfortable lifestyle. When they reached his family’s home, there were already several cars parked in the driveway and on the street in front of the building. Michael eyed them a bit nervously, and for a moment, Tre could read Michael’s thoughts plainly on his face. But the doubts seemed to clear when he looked at Tre, replaced by a smile. Tre wasn’t exactly looking forward to interacting with a bunch of strangers, but it all seemed worth it for that moment. Tre felt a twinge of fear at that, but dismissed it. He liked Michael’s smile. Was that so wrong? Tre didn’t think so. 53

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He was in good spirits until Michael opened the front door, letting himself into the house, and they were greeted with the familiar sounds of the pre-game show. Coming from multiple televisions. They were everywhere. One in the living room, one visible in the dining room, another in an adjoining den. He even saw some through the patio doors that led out to the backyard. And near each one was a small cluster of people, drinking and laughing as they waited for the game to start. Michael seemed oblivious to all of it. He’d only taken two steps before a man disengaged from the closest group and promptly cut off his path. “Hi, Dad. Where’s Mom?” Mr. Pappas was as tall as his son, with the same lean build, but his dark hair had long ago grayed, and the eyes that met Michael’s were brown, not green. Hooking a thumb toward the rear of the house, he said, “Putting the finishing touches on the food. She’s worried there’s not enough because Lois and Cullen brought all five of their kids when they said they were coming on their own. Go figure.” His gaze flickered to Tre. “I thought you said…” But the words died out. Tre saw the exact moment recognition came. Tre pretended not to notice the new light in his eyes. He extended his hand and offered his most polite smile. “Hi. I’m Tre. I’m a friend of Michael’s.” “A friend of…” His gaze snapped back to his son. “You know Tre Griffin?” 54

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The glance Michael shot him was more than puzzled. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “How do you know Tre?” “Who doesn’t?” Without further explanation, Mr. Pappas turned to the men he’d been talking to. “Hey! Look who’s here!” If anybody else in the world had put Tre in this situation, he would have been furious. And he would have felt seriously betrayed. But Michael’s confusion was sincere, and it only heightened as every male in the room fixed his stare on Tre. He leaned toward Michael and whispered, “Look, I’ll explain…” But that was all he could get out before several people accosted him at once. “My God, how do you know Michael?” “What are you doing watching the game here? Why aren’t you at the stadium?” “Look, is Jacobs as big a prick as he seems?” “Who are you picking for today’s game?” “Damned shame about that call. Damned shame. But you know, I said they shouldn’t call a running play, didn’t I say that? Sure. The whole damned field knew it was coming. You never had a chance.” “Are you kidding? Why’d they give him a seven million dollar signing bonus if he can’t even hold onto the ball for one damned play?” “Can I get you anything to drink?” Michael surprised Tre by stepping in front of him, blocking him from the others’ view. “Do you mind?” he said, 55

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his voice sharp. “We just walked in the door. And if you’re all going to act like this, we’re going to walk back out it.” Mr. Pappas looked aghast at the possibility of Tre’s departure. “No, no, you’re right. Back off, everyone,” he said to the room. “Give the man some room.” To Tre, “Sorry about that. It’s just, well, I don’t think I’m the only one who’s been watching you play since UCLA. I don’t care what the others say. You’re one of the best running backs in the league.” Tre shifted his smiles to the one he used during post-gamelocker-room interviews. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I don’t mind answering questions or whatever, I just need a beer and some breathing space.” He looked over to Michael and wondered if they could get away for a few seconds. He wanted the chance to explain. And to apologize for not mentioning all of it sooner. But then, how was he supposed to know that Michael’s family reunion was a football party? Why would Michael even agree to come to something like this? “Mom’s going to have everything in the kitchen,” Michael said with a tilt of his head. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is.” The crowd parted as he led Tre out of the living room, but he felt every eye upon them, each step of the way. It wasn’t until they passed into the mercifully quiet kitchen that Michael glanced back at him again. “I’m sorry about that,” he murmured. “I should have just come on my own.” “No. I should have asked for a few more details about the 56

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party. I just assumed that since you didn’t know…or care…that it’d be…well, safe.” “Do you want to go?” Tre studied Michael’s face, but for the first time since the other man showed up at his hotel room door, Tre couldn’t read him. “Do you want me to?” Michael glanced over Tre’s shoulder to the occupants in the next room. “Honestly? No. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, either.” Carefully, he reached forward and brushed his knuckles across the back of Tre’s hand, unseen by anybody else. “I can cover if you go back to the hotel. I know that’s where you’d rather be.” Tre had really only wanted one thing—to not be a running back on the biggest football weekend of the year. To Tracy, he was just her twin brother, and her kids saw him as their favorite uncle. He needed the break. But since meeting Michael, his one simple desire had morphed into something else entirely. If he stayed, he’d be the center of attention again. But if he left… “No, it’s not. Not unless you’re going to come back with me.” Indecision warred on Michael’s face. “I want that,” he said softly. “I just…” He cut himself off, taking an abrupt step back, when a woman came rushing into the room. She spotted Michael, and a beaming smile split her warm features. Tre didn’t have to ask who she was. The resemblance, all the way down to the green eyes, was uncanny. 57

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“Look at my handsome son.” She pulled him into a tight hug, holding him until he returned the embrace. “Your father said you brought someone. I should’ve guessed. Everybody is bringing somebody extra today it feels like.” Gently, Michael pried her away. “Mom, this is my friend, Tre Griffin. Tre, my mom, Kate Pappas.” She stuck her hand out in greeting. “Tre Griffin…why do I know that name?” “Because Tre plays football,” Michael answered. “Dad’s a fan.” Tre looked at Michael curiously before taking Kate’s hand. Tre plays football might as well have been Tre drives a bus, or Tre works for the city. Kate went on about what they were eating, and where they could find the beers, and who else was coming, but Tre wasn’t really paying attention. They finally got a moment of peace when Michael’s dad called her into the living room. “You really don’t care, do you?” “About what?” “That I play football. That if I walk down pretty much any street in Miami, somebody will recognize me.” Michael frowned. “Well, I care that I couldn’t even bring you to my parents’ house without you getting accosted, apparently.” Tre shrugged. “It happens all the time. I’m used to it. And you couldn’t have known anyway. So we’re good?” “I don’t know why we wouldn’t be.” He blushed. “As long as you’re not embarrassed to know someone who doesn’t have 58

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the slightest clue what you do for a living, other than run back and forth on a field.” “Most of the people I’m around know more about what I do for a living than I do.” Tre took a step closer, trying to get closer without being too obvious. “I like that you don’t know. If you did…this weekend wouldn’t have happened.” Michael swallowed, then ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. “We probably don’t have to stick around all day.” There was a slight catch in his voice, clear indication that Tre’s proximity was getting to him. “We can tell everybody that you have somewhere to be and leave after the game starts, if you want.” Tre smiled. “Tell them that I’m taking you to watch the game at Ryan Jacobs’ house, and watch their heads explode.” He was pretty sure the name meant nothing to Michael, but that didn’t stop the other man from chuckling. “Meeting you has definitely made my year. My family’s going to be talking about this party for months.” “Then I might as well go give them a thrill.” He wanted to grab Michael and kiss him like they were alone. Judging from the way Michael was leaning toward him, he wouldn’t have objected if Tre gave in to his desire. Tre forced himself to move back, putting Michael just out of reach. “But let’s get out of here soon, okay?” Michael nodded and Tre turned back to the living room, in good spirits. He did want to get Michael alone as soon as possible, but until he did, he planned to treat Michael’s family like they were his own. 59

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*

*

*

He wanted to come. Oh, God, did he want to come. But Tre’s iron grip around the base of Michael’s cock made that impossible, no matter how many times Tre scraped across his prostate, or how hard he ploughed into his ass. Michael fisted the hotel comforter, grunting with every slam of Tre’s hips against his. He wanted to ask again why exactly he couldn’t come, but this was Tre’s show and had been ever since they’d skipped out of his parents’ house at halftime. The second they’d stepped inside Tre’s room, Michael’s back was against the wall, Tre’s mouth was on his, and Michael was lost. His knees banged against the edge of the bed as Tre’s thrusts grew more violent. In seconds, he felt him stiffen, a harsh cry coming from Tre’s throat as his cock jerked inside Michael’s tight channel. He looked back over his shoulder to see Tre with his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut, as he rode out his orgasm. It never failed to amaze him how gorgeous the man was. At least he understood now why he had the body he did, too. Michael thought once Tre came, he would release his cock, but he didn’t. His grip was still tight as he pulled out of Michael’s ass. Michael was trembling by the time Tre let go of him and stepped away, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Tre was just going to leave him like that—shaking and throbbing. But he turned Michael to face him and in one fluid motion was on his knees. Before Michael could say a word, Tre swallowed his shaft, his teeth slightly scraping across the sensitive skin. The strangled, “Fuck!” that come out of his mouth was 60

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nothing compared to his needy grappling at Tre’s shoulder, or the way he bucked deeper into Tre’s throat, or the way everything in the room seemed to disappear, where all he felt and saw and heard was centered on his cock. His chest tightened as he watched Tre start bobbing up and down his length, and the sight of those full lips stretching around him was nearly as erotic as feeling him sink into his ass. Michael tried to match his rhythm, but the suction and the heat and the touch of Tre’s hands on his hips was too, too much. He came with a shout, shooting blast after blast first into Tre’s throat and then onto his tongue. By the time it began to ebb, Michael was shaking. Tre sucked and licked his shaft until it was clean, chasing every drop of come, before letting his cock slip from his lips. He looked up at Michael with soft brown eyes and a smile. “I think I should have done that sooner.” “That was…” But the words failed him. So did his knees. With an exhausted sigh, Michael sat back onto the bed, tugging at Tre’s shoulders to get him to join him. Tre stretched out on the bed beside him, draping a heavy arm over Michael’s stomach to force him backward on the mattress. From Michael’s position, he could see the digital clock on the nightstand. Just about twelve hours until they both had to leave for the airport. “Really good,” Tre murmured, finishing Michael’s sentence. It took every ounce of strength he had, but Michael turned 61

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his head to gaze at Tre. They hadn’t talked much since leaving the party, about the football or any of it, and part of him was afraid to broach the subject. There wasn’t much need, after all. Tomorrow, they’d go their separate ways and likely never see each other again. But the desire to thank Tre was too great to ignore. “You were amazing with my family. Thank you. Today would have been a nightmare otherwise.” “Oh, I liked them. Once they calmed down a bit, they weren’t so bad. Though, I have to admit, I don’t understand how you could come from such a large family of rabid fans and not be one yourself.” “Not for lack of trying on their part. But it just never interested me, and after awhile, you get good about tuning things out.” “Yeah, I guess so.” Tre snorted. “Nobody ever seemed to care if it interested me.” Michael didn’t care about football, but he did care about what made Tre tick. “Didn’t you ever have a choice about whether or not you played?” “Not after they realized how fast I run. Mom saw football as my ticket out, and there wasn’t a coach from elementary school to high school who didn’t see me as their best shot. I played football, baseball, ran track and field. Honestly, the only reason I ended up in football was because UCLA offered me a full ride.” “So what would you be doing if you weren’t playing football? What’s your degree in?” 62

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“My major was Communications, with a concentration in mass media. I always wanted to work in media. I’ll probably get some sort of talking-head gig on one of the many sports shows after I retire.” He couldn’t resist his smile. “So you’ll be even more famous then.” “Oh, it’ll be about the same, I figure. Lots of former players call games and offer their expert analysis. After a few years, I’ll just be that guy who used to play, and all the attention will be focused on the new batch of stars.” Michael caressed the strong arm still resting across his stomach. The life Tre lived was totally alien to him. He certainly wasn’t out of the closet with his parents, but he didn’t make a huge secret out of it with the department at school. It could very well be years before Tre could have the same sort of comfort level. “Well, if my family’s reaction is anything to go by, you should be playing for a good long time.” He tried to keep his tone light, but it was hard. He was going to miss Tre, no doubt about it. “And I can personally vouch for your stamina.” Tre chuckled. “Yeah, barring injuries, I should have a long career ahead of me.” He lapsed into silence, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was much softer. “I think I should thank you for this weekend. I was actually flying to Chicago because everybody in Miami thought the home team would be going to the big game this year, and everybody believes I’m the reason we’re not. But you…you treat me like I’m a real person and not a tiny little guy you see running back 63

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and forth on the field.” That certainly explained some of the comments he’d overheard that afternoon. Most of the football talk had gone straight over Michael’s head, but more than once, his father had stepped in to defend whatever it was Tre was supposed to have done. It also explained his reluctance to go out the night before. He decided then and there that was a side of this celebrity stuff he really hated. “Maybe because you are a real person,” he replied, matching Tre’s tone. “And if all those idiots out there are too stupid to realize that, then that’s their loss.” The arm around him tightened for a moment, pulling him closer to Tre’s chest. “I guess you probably realize how deeply in the closet I am.” What else was there to say that, but… “Yeah. I know.” “But you’re somebody who knows how to be discreet.” His ears burned. He wasn’t sure where Tre was going with this conversation. “I help breed future politicians,” he tried to joke. “Discreet might as well be my middle name.” “Then when I visit DC, we’ll just have to be careful. That’s all.” Now it felt like his whole face was on fire. He’d been on enough dates to know when he was getting the brush-off, but nothing about Tre seemed insincere. In fact, if Michael let himself, he could almost believe that Tre was going to do exactly as he said—come and see him in DC. 64

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Except he’d also been on enough dates to know what good intentions were. And the fact of the matter was, there were far too many obstacles keeping Tre and Michael apart than there were bringing them together. “I can do careful,” he said, playing along. “Good. Because like I told you last night, I do plan to see you again. I just want to be sure you don’t mind. Being careful like that…well, I know from experience, it can add a lot of tension to any relationship.” Relationship? They had a relationship? They had a weekend. A weekend of amazing, fantastic sex. And, okay, there had been conversations, and the fact that Tre had saved his ass with his family, and more great sex, but…a relationship? Men like Tre didn’t have relationships with men like Michael. But Tre was obviously too nice of a guy to want to leave Michael without at least a little something to hold on to. “Do you…have a lot of experience with that kind of tension then?” It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. But he didn’t think asking if Tre had suddenly lost his mind would go over very well. “I had one serious thing with a guy in college. He was one of the medical trainers. But he was pretty open with his sexuality and he thought…well, he thought I was a coward. I don’t know. Maybe I am. But he didn’t get it. Because you’ve got to have trust in your teammates, you know? If the lineman in front of me hesitates to make a block or something because he doesn’t like me…because I’m a queer… Well, anyway, we 65

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broke it off before I was drafted.” Michael wasn’t so far detached not to know that professional sports weren’t exactly the bastion of tolerance. This was Tre’s livelihood. Michael didn’t like that he had to deny part of himself, but until things changed, or until Tre decided that it didn’t matter any more, anybody who had any sort of feelings for him would respect that. “You’d never have to worry about me,” he said without hesitation. He didn’t for a second believe that Tre would follow through, but in this moment, at this time, he thought Tre believed he would. And for now, Michael could go along with that. “Good. You taking me to the airport tomorrow?” Michael nodded. Only forty-five minutes separated their departures. It would be pointless to make Tre pay for a cab when he still had his rental car. “Great. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Your family can sure wear a guy out.” He reached up and turned off the light, covering them in darkness. He turned over to lay with his back against Tre’s solid chest, and was more than a little surprised to realize how comfortable—how right—it felt. He didn’t want to go to sleep. Regardless of what Tre said, he didn’t want to lose what could very well be his last hours with him. But, despite fighting it, exhaustion eventually overtook him.

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CHAPTER 6 For the first time in a very long time, Michael didn’t want to leave Miami. Leaving put him on a plane to DC and Tre on a plane to Chicago, and just because Tre had made comments about getting together again, that didn’t mean Michael was naïve enough to believe that it was going to actually happen. It was time for the perfect weekend to end—and how ironic that he’d characterize a weekend when he went to visit his family as perfect—and time to re-enter the real world. They separated to check out of the hotel, Michael going back to his room to pack and gather all the papers he hadn’t graded while Tre put together the few things he’d taken out to spend time with Michael. They met up again in the lobby, and 67

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though they laughed and smiled as they went to return his rental car, it wasn’t quite the same. He was going to miss Tre. There. He’d said it. He was going to miss the way Tre smiled at him, the way he smelled. He was going to miss the way Tre seemed to know how to always touch him, the way they fit together without awkwardness. He was going to miss talking in the middle of the night about the secret love of Coleridge and Wordsworth, and mid-afternoon debates about the inefficacy of current social policies. And he was going to miss the sex. Because Tre was a gorgeous specimen of a man and he knew exactly what to do to make Michael feel like his head was going to explode. He stood out of the way when a young boy came rushing up to Tre at the rental agency, watching with a half-smile as Tre absorbed the praise and then somehow managed to turn it back toward the kid. It might have been a tough weekend for him, but this was his element. He was a natural. No wonder he didn’t want to sabotage his career. “So what happens now?” he asked Tre as they rode the shuttle to the airport. “The season’s over, right?” Tre laughed. “Yes. There’s one more game in Hawaii next weekend. It’s just an excuse for everybody to get together and unwind after the season. And then I’ve got a few months off before training camp starts. So I’ve got plenty of time on my hands.” “What do you usually do in that time?” Digging for details in Tre’s life was only going to hurt in the long run, but 68

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Michael couldn’t help it. “God, I feel like an idiot. Maybe I should have paid a little more attention to Dad during Monday Night Football.” “No, don’t worry about it. I mostly go up north to spend time with my family. Last spring I took my nephews to Disneyland and to visit the alma mater. I’m probably going to help my mom buy a house in the next few months.” It all sounded so normal. Not what he would have expected from someone who garnered as much attention as Tre did. But then, from the moment he met him, everything Tre had said and done had seemed normal. Hadn’t he commented that was one of the things he liked about Michael? That he didn’t treat him like he was anything special. “I imagine Chicago house prices are almost as bad as DC’s,” he said, keeping it light. “Probably. But she’s been living in a tiny little house my whole life, and she deserves better.” The shuttle was nearly empty, but Tre lowered his voice anyway. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I should be able to get out to DC by the end of February. I’d like it sooner, but I don’t want to shortchange my sister or her kids, you know?” “Oh, no, of course not.” The end of February was a month away. Four whole weeks. A lot could happen in between now and then, enough time for Tre to forget, or to meet somebody else, or simply to give Michael enough time to separate from the weekend and any expectation he might have had. “Take as long as you need,” he added. “I’ll probably be so 69

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knee-deep in midterms by then, I won’t even notice that February has come and gone again, even.” “Well, I don’t think I’m going to take much longer than that. I love my family, but you’re far better company.” The shuttle came to a stop in front of their exit, and Michael rose and hefted his bag over his shoulder, grateful for the reprieve from answering. He almost wished Tre would stop acting like it was really going to happen. Pretending was nice, but the longer they kept at it, the more it was going to hurt when it didn’t occur. Though they were both on the same airline, Tre was flying first class while Michael was in coach, and they separated again to go to their respective lines. By the time he’d finished with the kiosk, Michael half-expected to be on his own to go through Security, but there was Tre, lounging against a wall, waiting for him to get done. “You didn’t have to do that,” Michael said. Tre frowned. “Why wouldn’t I wait for you?” He studied Michael’s face for a moment. “Is there something wrong?” “No, no, I just…” He shook his head. “Never mind. We should probably get in line. There’s no telling what Security is going to make us take off in order to get through the detectors.” “Is the end of February going to be a problem for you?” The question came as they walked, and Michael was glad he didn’t have to look at Tre in order to answer. “Not for me,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel obligated. You know. In case something comes up.” 70

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“Obligated?” They came to a stop at the long queue for security. “You don’t think I’m coming to DC, do you?” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “I think this was a great weekend, Tre. But this is one game I do know how to play. So you don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear. I’m a grown-up. I know the score.” “You think that even though I’m the one who brought up another weekend? Why?” “Because I’m me, and you’re you, and we don’t exactly travel in the same circles, you know?” Michael finally looked up to see the genuine confusion in Tre’s eyes. “It’s okay. I know you’re just being a nice guy about it.” “No, I’m not.” Tre looked around as the line moved forward. “This is a really bad place to have this conversation, but we’re going to have it. I like you, Michael. Enough that I don’t want to get on that airplane while you’re thinking this is the end of it. Do you want to make a clean break here?” “No! God, no.” As soon as he realized how quickly he’d blurted his response, Michael flushed. “I mean…” He glanced at the clock on the wall. He desperately wanted to ask Tre to take this conversation somewhere more private where they could speak freely, but with the line as long as it was, he knew they couldn’t risk losing the time. “I like you, too,” he said, pitching his tone as low as Tre’s. “But I know what a busy life you must have, and I know things can look…different with a little distance. Or at least, with as much distance as there is between Chicago and DC.” Another shuffling step, and a long, slow minute before Tre 71

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answered. Michael felt like something was clawing at his chest from inside his ribs. He watched Tre, waiting for him to say something. Anything. A refutation, a promise things would be different, a word of agreement. But Tre didn’t say a word. Instead he gripped the back of Michael’s head and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. “What do you think that’ll look like with a bit of distance?” His lips were tingling. His throat had completely blocked off his air. His feet felt like lead. But all Michael could do was stare at Tre, eyes wide, as it sank in what he’d done. They were in public. In Miami. The one city in the world Tre was guaranteed to be recognized. And Tre had kissed him. Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue discreetly over his lower lip, glancing carefully at the people surrounding him. A few had noticed, and another was whispering, but Tre seemed oblivious to all of them, gazing intently at Michael while he waited for some sort of response. “I think…it looks like the end of February is great,” he finally managed to say. Tre smiled widely. “Great. I’ll call you…” “Excuse me?” An elderly woman standing behind Michael forced her way forward to touch Tre’s arm. “Are you that Tre Griffin?” “I am.” Michael stiffened, wondering if there was going to be a problem, if Tre would already start regretting the kiss. But she 72

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only asked him for an autograph, and Michael watched as he turned up the charm, teasing and flirting with her before agreeing to sign an autograph for her companion, and the man standing behind them, too. They didn’t leave Tre alone until he reached the head of the line. By the time they made it through the security checkpoint, Tre only had thirty minutes before boarding began. “I don’t really want to go,” Tre admitted softly as they hovered near Tre’s gate. “That makes two of us.” This was infinitely harder, knowing what Tre’s profession meant. Michael wanted to push him against the wall and kiss him until the last possible second. Instead, he settled for a one-armed hug, clapping Tre on the back in what he hoped looked like simple friendship. “You’ve got my number,” he said as he stepped back. “Call any time.” “I will. I might even call you tonight.” Michael smiled. “Just make sure you do it after my class. The last thing I need is to be distracted by thoughts of you during it.” Tre grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He sighed. “You better go now, or you’re going to be late.” He wasn’t, not with his flight leaving a good hour after Tre’s, but Michael nodded anyway and backed off, giving Tre one last wave before heading to his gate. Each step had him resisting the urge to look back, and he ducked into Starbucks to grab a latte in a vain attempt at diversion. He didn’t have to wait long to talk to Tre again at least. After everything, he was 73

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pretty sure Tre was going to call that night. Michael was smiling again by the time he took his coffee from the clerk. All that talk about a relationship hadn’t been completely unfounded. Tre honestly believed they had one. It was time for him to start believing it, too. Once he found a comfortable spot facing the window at his gate, Michael pulled out a sheaf of papers and started reading, sipping at his latte. It was easier to concentrate without the pall of leaving the weekend behind hanging over him, and while he wasn’t keen on waiting a whole month to see Tre again, there would be phone calls and maybe e-mails to tide them over in the interim. “That’s right. I knew you forgot to do something this weekend.” He nearly dropped the paper he held as his head snapped up. Tre stood in front of him, a pleased smile curving his full mouth. Michael glanced at his watch and then again at Tre. “What happened? Did you miss your flight?” Tre looked over his shoulder to the jet that would fly to DC. “Doesn’t look like it. I told the nice woman at the gate that I would like to switch flights, and as luck would have it, there were a few seats open on this very plane to Washington. Being a celebrity does have its advantages.” “But…your sister. She’s expecting you.” “Trust me. Tracy will forgive me. She doesn’t want me taking up space and eating her out of house and home anyway.” Tre sat down beside him. “Besides, she wouldn’t want to be around me when I’m miserable.” 74

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Michael looked down at where their knees touched. Warmth spread through his chest, and the smile he lifted back up to Tre was brilliant. “No, I think you’re probably right there. The way I hear it, you celebrity types turn into real jerks when you’re unhappy.” “We’re real prima donnas,” Tre agreed. “Five year olds have nothing on us. You wouldn’t mind putting up with this celebrity type for awhile, would you?” “I suppose you’re going to want to be waited on, hand and foot.” “Absolutely. I’ll need somebody to see to all my needs.” “So catering to your every whim to make sure you’re happy…” He pretended to consider it. “Yeah, I suppose I can do that.” As Tre chuckled and settled back in his seat, Michael pressed his leg even closer. Leaving Miami wasn’t so bad now. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it was pretty near perfect.

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JAMIE CRAIG

Jamie Craig is the collaborative efforts of Pepper Espinoza and Vivien Dean. Both successful authors on their own, they began working together in early 2006. Pepper lives with her husband and cats in Utah, where she attends graduate school, and Vivien resides in northern California with her husband and two children. *

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