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  Brett stood and peeled Linc’s slacks off him, dropping them to the floor. Linc’s cock jumped in his briefs when Brett’s smile curled the corners of his mouth while his gaze narrowed even further.

  “Someone’s a little nervous about their wardrobe choice, hmm?” Brett softly said.

  Ooooh, fuuuuck.

  He knew that tone.

  Brett reached in and ripped Linc’s briefs, up each side, and then jerked them off him.

  He smiled as he balled them up and then crawled up Linc again. “Open.”

  Linc didn’t even think about balking. His mouth opened immediately, just to be filled by his wadded up briefs.

  Which was probably a good thing, because it muffled his needy moan when Brett sat up and started unfastening his belt.

  Linc’s breath caught in his lungs as he watched Brett slowly slip his belt from the loops.

  When he caught himself wondering how many other men—or, fuck, women—Brett had done this with, he shut that shit down super-fast.

  He didn’t want to think about that.

  He wanted to pretend the past ten-plus years hadn’t happened. That this was his Sir, and they hadn’t spent a damned night apart.

  After the tail of his belt fell free, Brett climbed off him and stood.

  Gave him the finger—not a bird. His index finger pointed at him and moved in a circle, the meaning clear.

  Linc’s teeth clamped down on the makeshift gag in his mouth as he rolled over. He couldn’t help flinching when Brett’s hand settled along the small of his back, warm, his thumb gently stroking that spot at the base of his spine, just above the crack of his ass, that Bret had always loved so much.

  Then Brett leaned in and kissed that spot, his breath warm and sweet enough to almost drive Linc to tears.

  “Ten for the underwear violation, right? I’ll even include the sticking your goddamned tongue out at me and talking back to me downstairs in that total.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Linc mumbled.

  Not even a full breath later, the first line of fire sliced across his ass.

  “Fuck!” he screamed around the briefs clenched between his jaws. Now he fisted the covers, because Brett wasn’t screwing around. That was no playful swat with the belt, but a full-force impact.

  He clamped his eyes shut as the tears immediately flowed, even before the second stroke landed. By the time he’d taken all ten, he was sobbing, and not from the pain.

  From the relief.

  Brett folded his body over Linc’s, the fabric of Brett’s slacks rubbing against the fire in Linc’s ass.

  He felt the all-too-familiar outline of a very hard cock pressing against his ass, too.

  And Linc’s hard cock, pinned under him and which had grown harder with every stroke, was likely leaving a wet spot on the covers beneath him. In fact, it took every ounce of self-control he had left—which wasn’t very damn much at that point—not to grind himself against the bed and get off.

  Brett nuzzled his lips against Linc’s left ear. “All better, boy,” he whispered. “Clean slate. You won’t forget that rule again, will you?”

  “No, Sir.”

  That’s when he nearly came—because Brett clamped down on the back of Linc’s left shoulder with his teeth and let out a soft, deep growl.

  Linc spit out the briefs and turned over, wrapping his arms and legs around Brett. “Now. Please?”

  Except Brett winced. “I’m not sure if I have…” He glanced over at the dresser, where his carryon bag sat. “Hold on. Maybe I do.” He got up, dug around in his bag, and let out a triumphant noise. “Aha!”

  He turned, and in his hand held a couple of condoms and lube.

  Linc didn’t even want to contemplate why he had them, or who they might have been intended for, in case the answer wasn’t him. He pulled his legs back, holding them behind the knees, and watched as Brett dropped the items on the bed before shoving his slacks and briefs down and off. After grabbing a towel from the bathroom, Brett returned to the bed and climbed up.

  On his face, a gorgeously sexy smile. “Think you can still take me?”

  Linc nodded. “Do it, please?”

  Brett’s smile faded. “Do we need to talk first?”

  “Not if you’re neg, we don’t.”

  “Good.” Brett lubed his fingers and quickly worked them into Linc’s ass, making him moan from the way the intrusion stretched his hole. It’d been a while since he’d been with a guy, but he played with himself and frequently used toys, although nothing felt as good as a real-life partner.

  After he had Linc prepped, Brett rolled a condom down his own shaft and slicked his cock with more lube.

  Nudging into position between Linc’s thighs, Brett smiled down at him. His next words made Linc’s heart pound in his chest. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” He pressed forward slowly, taking his time until he was seated all the way inside Linc.

  Every sweet inch of the man’s cock that worked its way inside Linc’s ass made Linc whine at the delicious intrusion, and made his own cock leak and twitch.

  “I’m not going to last long,” Brett gritted out. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around Linc’s cock. “Give it to me, boy. Won’t make you hold it tonight.” As he started fucking Linc in earnest, Brett started pumping Linc’s cock.

  Please don’t let this be a dream!

  Linc reached down with both hands and found Brett’s hips. His fingers dug in as he held on to him, pulling him closer, desperately wanting this moment to last forever and knowing he had about maybe one more breath before he exploded.

  If this was a drunk dream, he hoped he never awakened from it.

  Torturously sharp pleasure starting deep in his balls squeezed up through his cock. Once his orgasm hit, there was no going back. His balls contracted and then he shot pump after pump of hot cum all over Brett’s hand and both their bodies.

  The triumphant grin plastered across Brett’s face would have finished him off if his hand-job hadn’t already accomplished that. “Good boy!” He planted both hands on the bed and leaned in to kiss him as he started plowing Linc’s ass.

  He wrapped his arms around Brett, closed his eyes, and cried as they kissed and fucked, and the last thing he registered before drunken oblivion finally pulled him under was the sound of Brett’s groans as he came, and then him whispering over and over again, “I love you, boy…”

  Chapter Seven

  Brett startled awake and felt disoriented for a moment in the dark room.

  It wasn’t until he identified the firm arm draped around his waist and holding him pressed against an even firmer and warm body behind him that his brain jump-started into full-on consciousness.

  Oh…fuck!

  So…that happened.

  The question remained—what was he going to do about it?

  I can’t walk away from him again.

  Annnnnd there was his answer.

  But it didn’t provide a solution to what the hell was he supposed to tell his father?

  Sure, the show would give him the perfect excuse to spend a lot of time with Kodie—at first. Ideally, after the initial PR push, he would still be working out of his office in Virginia, just outside of DC, and not need to be there in person in Florida.

  Except that was not how this was going to work, and Brett knew it.

  He needed Kodie. It was the only thing he needed in his life. Kodie had gone on and done just fine without him—obviously—if the man could land himself a TV show highlighting what he did for a living.

  Brett also needed a salary. He couldn’t survive on love, no matter what many countless Top 40 ballads insisted. It was hard, cold cash that paid the bills. If he wanted to be able to spend time with Kodie, he needed a job. Specifically, this job.

  Because it wasn’t like there would be many great-paying jobs in the PR and branding field in Brooksville, Florida.

  Wherever the hell that was.

  He closed his eyes and struggled ag
ainst the urge to cry at the sweetly familiar sensation of Kodie’s warm breath brushing against the nape of his neck.

  A painful avalanche of memories flooded through his soul, times he’d desperately tried not to think about and had unsuccessfully tried to suppress through forcing himself to be someone he wasn’t.

  Literally.

  He wasn’t bi, and he damn sure wasn’t het.

  There was a really simple and obvious reason he couldn’t function in bed with Jaylynn anymore, and it was because he’d run out of lies to tell himself, and he could no longer conjure up potent enough fantasies while with her to allow him to fake his way through it. He’d hit an emotional dead end with her.

  There was no longer anything cute or charming or even remotely attractive about her to him. In fact, the longer he spent with her, the less attracted he was to her. Normally, by this point with a woman, he’d already have broken up with her and made up some excuse his father would believe, buying him some time before he felt he had to hook up with someone else to keep his father off his case.

  But knowing what he did about her now, she wasn’t even someone he’d normally be friends with, much less date.

  Unlike when he’d been with Kodie before, and had felt himself falling harder in love with him by the day.

  Unlike the way falling into bed with the man felt like slipping into a comfortable pair of jeans that fit him perfectly.

  Jaylynn and the other women had been like trying to slap Elmer’s glue over the stump of an amputated limb and calling it a day. It wouldn’t work, it’d never work, and even if some miracle happened and you did stanch the bleeding for a short period of time, it wouldn’t heal the stump or stop the infection that would quickly spread throughout.

  He felt it when Kodie’s breathing changed, the quick catch, a soft gasp—followed by him holding his breath for a moment. Then came the long, gentle exhale of realization that, no, this wasn’t a dream.

  Kodie’s lips sought the nape of his neck and mouthed him the way he always used to, not a love bite, but the safe alternative.

  He wanted to cry that his boy remembered. How they’d always been careful not to mark Brett in ways his father would spot.

  “Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” Kodie said.

  Brett rolled over to face him and hooked a leg around Kodie’s. In the dark he kissed his boy, an ember that quickly set them ablaze again. “You’re not fucking dreaming,” Brett hoarsely said. “And I’m not stupid enough to walk away from you a second time. I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

  Kodie rolled on top of him, caging him with his arms and kissing him as Brett’s hands roamed his boy’s body. He was like Kodie 2.0. He’d been hot before, to Brett, even when he’d been a gawky teenager, but with the extra five inches and the bulk, he’d taken his previous 10 status to a 100.

  Easily.

  Morning stubble rasped against Brett’s lips as he nipped and sucked even while he ground his hips up against Kodie’s. Kodie teased him, drawing back and breaking their kiss before surging forward again, their hard cocks bumping and rubbing together.

  “Please tell me you’re single,” Brett managed.

  Kodie nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, thank god.” Brett kissed him again. “About last night—”

  “It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been sober,” Kodie said. “I was too angry and hurt. I probably would have cornered Ausar and asked him for someone else.”

  Brett breathed a sigh of relief. “And now?”

  “Don’t fucking leave me again, Sir. Please. I can’t lose you again.”

  With Kodie resting his forehead against Brett’s, Brett closed his eyes and breathed in, Kodie’s familiar, sweet scent mixed with sweat and sex and stale alcohol. Didn’t even give a shit about morning breath.

  “I can’t lose you, either.” Brett nuzzled noses with him. “Do you want to talk about this? About our pasts, or—”

  Kodie kissed him, hard. “I don’t want to talk about anything right now, Brett. I want to fuck your goddamned brains out, order room service for breakfast, get a shower, and then fuck each other’s brains out again.”

  Kodie never called him Brett, except as a sort of safeword. To talk as equals. Before, he’d rarely used it, even for talks as equals.

  Hell, he hadn’t even used his name yesterday, when Ausar brought them together.

  “I guess if I’m going to be in Brooksville for a week, I’ll need a rental car. And a hotel room.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I don’t have any way to get there from here, for starters.”

  “Ride with me,” Kodie quietly said. “Stay with me.”

  * * * *

  Kodie didn’t want to think about what time it was. All he wanted to do was lie there with Brett and savor this time together.

  Except he knew there was a check-out time, and he had to get his stuff out of his room. “Do we have time to fuck around?” he asked. “Before check-out?”

  Brett fumbled around for his phone. “Shit. It’s nine.”

  “I need to go get my stuff.” He sat up, groaning at the delicious ache in his ass from the fucking and taking Brett’s belt. “Gawd, I don’t want to get out of this bed.”

  “I think check-out’s eleven, isn’t it? I’m not scheduled for check-out until tomorrow, so just grab your stuff and bring it down here and climb back into bed with me.”

  “Mmm. Can you order us room service, too, Sir?”

  Even calling him that felt right.

  “Fuckin’ A, I will. We aren’t leaving this bed again until tomorrow morning. Or can you take the time off? Oh, wait. Shit, I guess I need to find out when the film crew will be showing up.”

  “This is too much adulting on not enough coffee,” Kodie said. “I’ll go get my crap.” He kissed Brett before dragging himself out of bed.

  “So what room are you in?” Brett asked as Kodie headed to the bathroom to empty his bladder.

  “1417,” he called back, wincing as he turned on the light, squinting against it. “Why?” He felt a little headachy, but thankfully not horribly hungover.

  Brett chuckled. “Because you had no clue last night. You were totally wasted. You were inventing numbers.”

  “Ah.”

  Brett appeared in the bathroom doorway. “Can I just say that I was in love with you before, and thought you were gorgeous back then, but you’ve raised the bar.”

  Kodie finished and shook and brushed a kiss along Brett’s lips in passing on his way to the sink. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sir. I love the goatee.”

  Brett reached out and caught his arm, and Kodie didn’t understand the serious look in his eyes. “Really? You do?”

  “Yeah, man.” He grinned. “Gives you that whole sinister sadist kind of vibe. It’s fucking hot.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Let me wash my hands.”

  Brett released him and took a turn in the bathroom. “I’ve got vacation time I haven’t used. As soon as I can, I’ll take it, and you and I can spend some uninterrupted time together without anyone around.”

  “What about your dad?” Maybe it made him a dick to ask it, but he had to know if he was setting himself up for another heartache.

  He heard Brett flush, and he walked out and washed his hands. “I’ll figure that out later.” His brown gaze met Kodie’s. “I won’t lose you again. I might need a couple of months to figure out what to do, though. Work-wise. But I promise, I’m not walking away.”

  “What if he threatens to disown you.”

  “That’s why I need a couple of months. I want to get the campaigns started for your show, make sure you’re taken care of.” Warmth filled Kodie, but he didn’t interrupt him. “Once I know that’s all set up and in place, and the network is happy with it, then I’ll start talking to headhunters. Hopefully, I can find a position with a company either based in Florida, or who will let me telecommute.”

  Damn that pesky hope. “You mean it?”

  “Yeah, I mean
it.” He pulled Kodie into his arms and kissed him. “I’ll figure it out, I promise.” Then he patted Kodie on the ass. “I’ll order breakfast. Go grab your stuff.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Then he froze, their gazes meeting again for a moment before Brett pulled him in for another kiss.

  “I missed that,” Brett said. “I missed it so damn much. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too, Sir.” He had pulled on his pants and was still hunting around for his socks when there was a knock on the door. “That’s pretty damn fast room service for not having called them yet.”

  “Must be housekeeping. I thought I put out the card.” Brett grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his hips, and walked over to the door.

  “Sorry, but we don’t—”

  “Hope you don’t mind I stopped in,” the woman said, stepping around Brett and into the room, where all three of them froze. “What the hell, Brett?”

  “What the hell is right, Jay. What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Blind panic hit Kodie, making him relive the past, the pain, the grief.

  He yanked on his jacket and patted his pockets to make sure he had his phone and key card. “Bye.” He headed for the door, leaving his shoes and socks behind.

  He needed to get out.

  Now.

  “Kodie, wait!”

  He was already running for the elevator by the time he heard the door swing shut behind him.

  * * * *

  “Goddammit.” Brett ran for his suitcase to grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jay said.

  “None of your fucking business. What are you doing here?” He walked past her, but she grabbed his arm.

  “Stop. Talk to me. Who was he?”

  He jerked free. “None of your business.”

  Cold calculation narrowed her eyes. “Did you fuck him last night?”

  “Again, none of your business.” Panic was starting to set in, because he needed to go after Kodie, right now. “Get out of here.”

  “Your father told me to come down here. To take a few days with you to try to get your head on straight.” She glanced around at the clothing on the floor. “Guess I don’t have the right head, and you aren’t straight. Is that why you couldn’t sleep with me anymore?”