Good Friends Read online

  Suncoast Society

  Good Friends

  Porter is a Dom who refuses to push because an unhealed ache in his soul from tragically losing a loved one keeps one foot firmly stuck in the past. He loves Gavin, considers him his best friend. That’s why when Gavin took the job in Costa Rica, Porter knew he had to let him go, even though it hurt.

  Gavin knows all too well why Porter’s in pain—he was there by his side that horrible afternoon. But Gavin has his own relationship ghosts to deal with. All he wanted was for Porter to ask him to stay, to give him a chance to show him he can be Porter’s forever guy. To want him, and as more than just a good friend.

  But between ancient heartache, mixed messages, a jealous sub, and a friend who’s anything but, will the two stubborn aviation mechanics finally be able to fix what’s wrong between them?

  Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 35,416

  GOOD FRIENDS

  Suncoast Society

  Tymber Dalton

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Good Friends

  Copyright © 2019 by Tymber Dalton

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-830-7

  First Publication: May 2019

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  For Hubby, and for Sir. He knows why.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Tymber Dalton is the wild-child alter-ego of prolific author Lesli Richardson. She lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets.

  Active in the BDSM lifestyle, the USA Today Bestselling Author and two-time EPIC award winner is also a part-time Viking shield-maiden who loves to shoot skeet and play D&D with her friends. She’s the author of over one hundred and sixty books and counting, including The Reluctant Dom, Cardinal’s Rule, Hope Heals, and Come In From the Cold. Her series include Suncoast Society, Love Slave for Two, Triple Trouble, Coffeeshop Coven, Good Will Ghost Hunting, Drunk Monkeys, Deep Space Mission Corps, and others.

  She loves to hear from readers! Please drop by her website and sign up for her newsletter to keep abreast of the latest news, snarkage, and releases.

  Honest reviews are greatly appreciated. They help with a book’s visibility and can boost its rankings. Even a few lines about what you felt reading the book will help. Thank you so much!

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  For all titles by Tymber Dalton, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/tymber-dalton

  Author’s Note

  This is book 96 in the Suncoast Society series. You do not have to read all the books before this one to understand the plot or characters—most of the books in the series can be read standalone.

  Porter first appears in Blue Motel Room. The opening chapter of this book takes place during the last chapter of that book, although you don’t have to read that book to understand the events of this one.

  Some of the characters in this book appear in or are featured in previous books in the Suncoast Society series. While most of the books in the Suncoast Society series are standalone works which may be read independently of each other, the recommended reading order to avoid spoilers and to not miss any backstory can be found on the Suncoast Society series page, along with character information and other trivia, on my website at:

  http://www.suncoastsociety.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  GOOD FRIENDS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  GOOD FRIENDS

  Suncoast Society

  TYMBER DALTON

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  Well, shit.

  Porter Hutchinson wasn’t a man usually given to flights of fancy. But as he sat at the Toucan Resort’s tiki bar with Ron and listened to him recount the men’s story, Porter realized the deep-seated fantasy he’d clung to for a while now, close to a year, would have to be permanently shelved.

  That’s really for the best, anyway.

  On the one hand, the thrill that had flared inside him upon spotting Ivan from across the resort’s pool courtyard had shocked him in its intensity. It’d been a year since his first and only encounter with Ivan, and he hadn’t seen him there at the resort since.

  On the other hand, immense relief had flooded in on its heels, that Ivan was alive and well.

  Immediately to be followed by borderline crushing disappointment.

  Which…that was then tempered by more relief, because it meant that avenue was neatly and permanently closed and left no loose ends.

  Except…

  Sigh.

  Right now, Ivan had been sent up to their room by his husband, Ron, to put on clothes and grab Ron a shirt so they could all go eat dinner in the hotel restaurant.

  The men weren’t only married—they were fathers. It also looked like Porter had narrowly missed getting caught up in what could’ve been a very messy and entangled situation had Ivan taken him up on his offer to get to know him better after their one incredibly hot and sexy evening together.

  Ron had just magnanimously offered to buy Porter dinner as a thank you for how Porter had treated Ivan back then.

  And Ron gave Porter his phone number, while extending an invitation to come down to Sarasota to the BDSM club there.

  That they would introduce Porter around, including to some friends of theirs with excellent matchmaking records.

  That was an offer Porter was giving serious consideration to taking, since it looked like Gavin had apparently decided to drop off the face of the fricking earth.

  Ivan didn’t do bad, either. Not at all. Ron was totally rocking the Viking vibe—six-four, broad-shouldered, blond, blue eyes. Handsome guy.

  The kind of guy who looked like he could put a hurting on someone if they fucked with Ivan.

  Also the kind of guy who looked like he’d done a lot to help heal Ivan’s soul, thankfully.

  Blue eyes that uncomfortably reminded him of someone else—thoughts of whom he immediately shoved away in this moment.

  When Ivan returned, now wearing denim
shorts and a T-shirt instead of the Speedo he’d had on, and handed Ron a T-shirt so they could dine in the resort’s restaurant, Porter recognized the sweet look on Ivan’s face as he waited on Ron to don the shirt.

  There was nothing short of total love and adoration for his hubby brightly shining in Ivan’s green eyes. Plus, Ivan wore a contented smile that had been painfully absent when Porter had his encounter with him.

  Well, fuck.

  Not that Porter wanted kids. He never did. His two ex-girlfriends, fortunately, never caught pregnant, although he hadn’t been with either of them very long. Just long enough with each to make it painfully clear to him that he was definitely gay and not even remotely bi.

  Much to his own parents’ dismay…and disgust.

  Ron and Ivan now had three beautiful infant daughters between them, and were obviously devoted fathers.

  So much for those fantasies.

  All throughout dinner, which Porter enjoyed, he could clearly see the bond between the men. Ron was anything but an asshole—which made it difficult for Porter not to like the guy.

  It was just a fickle quirk of timing, of circumstances.

  Of Fate.

  What’s that saying about giving thanks for unanswered prayers?

  In this case, it was definitely true.

  Once dinner ended and they said their good-byes, Ron offered Porter a hug.

  “Thanks, again,” Ron whispered in his ear before ending their embrace.

  And Porter didn’t miss how Ivan glanced at Ron first, receiving a subtle nod from him before going in for his own hug.

  “Congratulations again,” Porter told Ivan, blinking away the sudden and surprising prickle of unshed tears stinging his eyes. As he stepped back, he forced a smile. “I probably will take you up on your offer,” he told Ron. “To make it down your way to get introductions.”

  “Any time. Just call or text me.”

  “Thanks.”

  He watched them head off across the courtyard toward their room, Ron holding Ivan’s hand and leading the way.

  Donner, another friend of Porter’s, walked over to say hi. “Who were they?” he asked after they hugged hello.

  Porter sighed. “A missed opportunity,” he said.

  “What?” Donner asked.

  Then again, with all the crazyness—and the babies—this looked like it had, in fact, worked out for the best for all involved. Those were two insanely happy men, right there.

  Porter genuinely felt thankful Ivan had found someone who not only loved him, but who felt eager and willing to take care of him and help him through his old and obviously painful emotional issues.

  “Nothing,” Porter said. “What are you up to tonight? Nothing good, I’m sure,” he teased.

  Donner grinned. “Asshole. I’m arranging a gangbang for a birthday bottom looking to get himself ruined tonight. Guy’s hubby is a friend of mine. Want in? Or is Gavin finally back and he’s got dibs on you this weekend?”

  Donner didn’t know the latest. Hell, no one did, because Porter hadn’t talked about it.

  And he wouldn’t talk about it. That’s not how he rolled. He kept his private shit private.

  Porter glanced back and spotted Ron and Ivan disappearing into their second-floor room.

  “You know what?” Porter said. “Why the hell not? Not doing anything else tonight.”

  * * * *

  That’s how, an hour later, Porter found himself sitting in a comfortable armchair in a second-floor double suite, his boots resting on the back of a naked subbie boy who knelt on his hands and knees on the floor in front of him, and with a couple of fingers of Jack Daniel’s over ice in a small plastic cup in his hand.

  Porter was currently watching three guys taking on the birthday bottom, a guy probably in his late thirties or early forties, not bad-looking, but not his usual type, either. Two guys plowed the bottom’s ass while the man got face-fucked by a third.

  Porter hadn’t decided if he was going to fully join the party yet or not. He’d accepted Donner’s offer with every intention of getting in there and getting him some, at least to get a blowjob, but apparently his cock wasn’t really into it tonight.

  He also wasn’t interested in pushing rope in front of a bunch of witnesses, either. His ego had already taken enough of a hit that evening.

  Besides, impromptu gangbangs with nearly unknown strangers weren’t his scene, personally. Although when he’d accepted the invite, he’d thought maybe this activity would be exactly what he needed to take his mind off Ivan for good.

  Or, at least for the evening.

  Not just Ivan, but Gavin, too.

  What was particularly stupid was that, until tonight, he hadn’t had any trouble finding himself some action when he wanted to, much less have any trouble performing once said action was obtained. Although he hadn’t fucked anyone except Ivan since Gavin left, he’d just gotten a few blowjobs from guys he’d scened with.

  However, now he kept thinking back to that night with Ivan.

  The old scars and bruises he’d seen that night on the fronts of the younger man’s thighs. How the desperation in his green eyes had reminded him so much of Dane it nearly made him shiver.

  How today, when Ivan had turned at the bar when Porter said his name, after getting a good look at Ivan’s gorgeous green eyes, Porter’s gaze had dropped to the man’s thighs and intense relief had set in to see neither bruises nor any fresh cutting marks.

  How…emotionally fragile Porter knew the other man was. How Ivan had responded so beautifully to him that night.

  The protective way Ron had curled his arm around Ivan’s body and pulled him back against him. Then Porter had spotted the matching wedding bands and immediately knew the score, even before Ivan introduced Ron.

  Fuck.

  If only their evening hadn’t been interrupted by work calling him in for an emergency that night, he could’ve spent the whole night with Ivan.

  And then you’d probably really have gotten your heart broken, dummy. Twice in one year, that’d be a record for you, now, wouldn’t it?

  Porter sipped his drink and sighed. Because normally while watching something as hot as what was currently playing out on the bed before him would turn his crank, tonight?

  Nada.

  He had a couple of regular play partners but hadn’t managed to make schedules work with any of them for the past several months. None of them were here at the Toucan this weekend, either.

  Then, there was Gavin.

  Fucking Gavin.

  Porter was trying not to be a bitch about this, but his best friend and long-term fuck-buddy, who was due back in the country any day now from a year spent working down in Costa Rica, had started pulling back from him without explanation three months ago, and basically went silent over four weeks ago.

  Which normally would’ve seriously worried Porter, except he knew Gavin was reading his texts. Porter was getting the damned read receipts. And Gavin was active on Facebook. Not posting much of anything, but Porter saw where Gavin had liked a few items that mutual friends had posted.

  Plus, when Porter had called him three weeks ago and flat-out asked Gavin if he was pissed off at him or something, Gavin had said no, he just had a lot on his mind and needed some space. Then he’d claimed he was working and needed to go and hung up, leaving Porter staring at the phone.

  Fuck.

  It’d been over twelve months since he’d last seen Gavin. How much more fucking space did he need? He thought they’d had a great relationship. Friends first ten years ago, then friends with bennies, and then full-on fuck-buddies for the last five years. Well, six, if you counted this past year they’d spent apart.

  Never before had Porter ever felt such a vast gulf between them, even when distance was a factor. Hell, the plan had been once Gavin returned to the States, he was supposed to move in with Porter for a couple of months until he could decide his next step.

  Honestly? At that point, Porter had kind of been hoping
he could talk Gavin into giving things a try between them in a formal way, exclusive and long-term.

  Except Gavin hadn’t even brought up moving in for the past several months. If this was the way Gav was going to be, well, Porter wouldn’t bring it up, either.

  He wouldn’t chase Gavin. At forty-one, Gavin was a grown-ass adult. If he wanted Porter to come begging after him when he landed in the States, he could think again. Porter thought they’d had this settled before Gavin left.

  Porter didn’t do games, and Gavin damn well knew it. After circling each other for ten years as friends, he’d thought Gavin would fucking know better than to act like this.

  I’m forty-eight. I’m too old to be playing fucking games.

  Porter also realized, as he watched the birthday bottom’s Master hubby grinning and chatting with Donner, that tonight wasn’t going to happen for him. Not here, not now.

  Not under these circumstances.

  Resigned, he lifted his feet from the nameless bottom’s back and gently nudged the guy’s ass with the toe of his boot. “You can go, buddy. Thanks.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The guy stood and headed over to another guy, who was standing around and awaiting a turn with the bottom. Moments later, the bottom ended up on his knees as a fluffer and surrounded by four other guys.

  Porter took his drink and quietly slipped out of the suite. For a moment, he stood at the railing of the second-floor hallway, which overlooked the center courtyard pool area. Below him, a typical Friday night party was in full swing in the pool courtyard, complete with loud music, raucous laughter, and happy people getting their freak on.

  Normally? He had no trouble finding company or action, when he wanted it.

  Fun.

  Tonight?

  Porter sadly sighed. He didn’t have it in him tonight. His heart just wasn’t in it. At all.