The Delicious Series: The First Volume

by Stella Starling

  Ben looked over. Gavin had closed his eyes again, but he didn’t look as relaxed as before. Ben started to reach out to rub the tension out of his neck, but thought better of it in light of their conversation. He put his hands back on the steering wheel again.

  “Sorry if that was inappropriate,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Gavin said without opening his eyes. He still didn’t relax, though.

  Ben frowned, not liking the undercurrent of tension between them. Being with Gavin was usually easy. Comfortable. Fun. It reminded him of a runner’s high, since half the time just being in Gavin’s presence made him feel like he was flooded with endorphins. Ben stifled a sigh. He really needed to quash this gay-curiosity thing, because it wasn’t worth losing that.

  By the time they made it home, Gavin still hadn’t said anything else, but when Ben pulled his crutches from the back seat and helped him out of the car, Gavin gave him a tired smile that made Ben hope the silence was mostly due to exhaustion.

  “I’m going to go straight to bed—to sleep—if you don’t mind,” Gavin said once they made it into the house.

  “Of course,” Ben said, following him down the hall toward the guest room. “Do you need anything?”

  “No,” Gavin said, turning to face him once he reached the door to his room. “Thanks. I’m just going to—fuck.” His crutches clattered to the floor, and he clutched at the doorframe as pain spasmed across his face.

  “Gavin?” Ben asked urgently, steadying him. “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck!” Gavin gasped again, the fingers of one hand digging into Ben’s arm as he clutched at his leg with the other. “Sorry,” he gritted out after a couple of shallow breaths. Still not letting go. “It’s just a charley horse.”

  Ben scooped him up and carried him to the bed, lying him down on top of the covers and pushing Gavin’s hand away from his thigh. He’d had his share of runner’s cramps, especially back when he was running competitively.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, massaging the tight ball of muscle knotted in Gavin’s hamstring.

  Gavin nodded, gritting his teeth and breathing through his nose. Ben flipped him over onto his stomach so he could work the muscle better, and after a few minutes he could feel Gavin start to relax under his hands.

  “Your weight isn’t properly distributed with those crutches,” he said. “Your whole body is trying to compensate for having to make the muscles on this side work harder.”

  “Tell me about it,” Gavin said, his laugh coming out more like a groan. “Not that I don’t appreciate how useful they are, but yeah. Everything aches.”

  “Take your pants off.”

  Gavin’s whole body shook with laughter under his hands, and even Ben had to grin. Fine, that had definitely been one of the comments Gavin had called him on earlier.

  “You sweet talker, you,” Gavin teased. “You haven’t even bought me dinner.”

  Ben rolled him over, taking matters into his own hands. “Actually, I did,” he said, winking as he unzipped Gavin’s jeans. He yanked them down without letting his thoughts stray from offering pain relief, then flipped Gav back onto his stomach as he stripped his pants off over the bulky cast. “Shirt,” he warned as he pulled that off Gavin, too.

  “Do I get to keep my underwear on?” Gavin asked, the pillow muffling his voice failing to disguise the laughter that still shook his body.

  “I’ll let you… this time,” Ben said, kneading Gavin’s muscular back. “Unless you get a charley horse in your ass.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Ben laughed, letting his eyes roam over Gavin’s body as he worked the muscles of his lower back.

  “You go to the gym?”

  “Every day,” Gavin said. “I hate it. But if I don’t, I look like a scarecrow. Although God, I’m probably going to end up as skinny as shit by the time I finally get this cast off.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Ben said, letting his hands skim down over Gavin’s cupcake boxer shorts—he grinned at the sight—to rub the backs of his thighs. The man really was tense. “You look good. Now spread your legs.”

  Gavin laughed into the pillow, mumbling something that sounded like one of his signature “Oh, Lords,” but he did as Ben asked.

  “How does that feel?” Ben asked, sliding his hands back up to knead the tension out of Gavin’s ass.

  “Good,” Gavin said.

  At least, Ben thought that’s what the word was.

  “So it’s better?” he pressed, wanting more of a response. “Is this helping?”

  “Yeah,” Gavin said, twisting his upper body around to look at Ben. “Thanks, Ben. That’s good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I mean, you can stop. That’s enough.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Stop, Ben,” Gavin said with a strained laugh. “Please.”

  “Why?” Ben asked, pulling his hands away reluctantly. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Really?” Gavin asked incredulously, staring at him for a second. When Ben didn’t answer, he shook his head with another one of those strained laughs, and spelled it out for him: “Um, okay. Please stop, because you’re torturing me here, Ben. I’m attracted to you, and you’ve just carried me to the bed, undressed me, and put your hands all over me. You’re turning me the fuck on. But unless you’d like to act on that ‘curiosity’ you mentioned earlier, I think we’ll both end up better off if you just… stop. Okay?”

  Ben blinked. His pulse was racing, and his palms still tingled from the friction of touching Gavin’s bare skin.

  Gavin was attracted to him?

  “Sorry,” Ben said, because it seemed like he should. He felt frozen in place, though, and couldn’t quite figure out what his apology was meant to cover, or what else to say after that.

  Gavin rolled over and sat up, his hard cock straining against the material of his boxers. “Just so there’s no confusion,” he said, pointing toward his blatant erection. “But unless you want to do something about this, you should probably go.”

  “Um…”

  Gavin made a shooing motion, his lip quirking up in a one-dimple attempt at good humor. “Sorry, Ben. I’m teasing. But you did ask.”

  “Right. I should leave,” Ben said, dragging his gaze away from Gavin’s cock to meet his eyes.

  Gavin nodded his agreement, then he grinned. “I truly hate to say it,” Gavin said. “But we should probably keep the touching to a minimum from now on. I’m obviously not immune, and I’d really rather not screw up our friendship.”

  Ben didn’t want that either, but he still couldn’t seem to find any words that fit the situation. When he stayed silent, Gavin sighed, his smile dropping away.

  “Or if it’s too late for that, I can just leave,” Gavin said. “Tomorrow though, I hope, because I really am exhausted.”

  “No,” Ben said, scooting off the bed. He really had made things awkward between them. Ben cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. It just… surprised me.”

  Gavin laughed at that, but then his laugh turned into a yawn. Ben’s eyes flicked down to Gavin’s lap again. He may have been tired, but he was also still hard. For Ben. This wasn’t the side effect of medication, Gavin was turned on by Ben. And he was acting like it was no big deal. The man really was comfortable in his own skin.

  Not that a raging hard-on was ever comfortable.

  It was going to need attention.

  Ben shifted his weight, feeling his own cock start to swell in some kind of mirroring response, and he clasped his hands in front of him to try to mask it.

  “I’ll leave,” he said, even though his feet still felt rooted to the ground. “I’ll leave you alone,” Ben repeated. And then he did, without waiting for a response.

  Because leaving was really the only thing that made sense.

  Unless you want to do something about it.

  Ben swallowed, closing the door firmly behind him. He wasn’t going to do anything about it.
And he definitely wasn’t going to let himself wonder if Gavin was going to do something about it on his own, now that Ben had left him alone.

  That wasn’t any of his business.

  They were friends, and Ben didn’t want to lose that.

  So he needed to stop wondering.

  He was stopping, right now.

  He’d stopped.

  His curiosity was officially over.

  9

  Gavin

  Gavin groaned, flopping back on the bed as soon as the door closed behind Ben. Jesus. H. Christ. His cock was so hard it actually hurt, and it had taken every ounce of his self-restraint to keep from jumping on Ben before the other man walked out. Up until now—medication notwithstanding—Gavin had done an admirable job of ignoring his attraction, but regardless of his earlier pain from the charley horse and his genuine exhaustion, having Ben handle him like that had been too much.

  Or maybe not enough, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

  In the short time since Gavin had broken his foot, he’d already gotten used to having Ben’s hands on him. Constantly. The man really was very touch-feely, but it had been easy not to take that personally, since Gavin had also seen him clasp shoulders, squeeze hands, and generally always find a way to reach out and touch all the other people in his life, too. And that was good, because it meant that Gavin had felt free to enjoy the contact without worrying about whether it would make things awkward between them.

  But tonight had been different.

  Maybe because they were in the bedroom. Maybe because Ben had undressed him. Had made him laugh. Had been attentive and commanding and gentle, all at the same time. Or maybe just because it had been far too long since he’d anyone’s hands on him, other than his own.

  No—Gavin rolled onto his side, his eyes drifting to the door Ben had walked out of—he couldn’t lie to himself.

  Tonight had been different because—despite his best intentions and the fact that he’d known damn well it wouldn’t lead to anything—Gavin had gone and fallen for the man he knew he couldn’t have.

  Which had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

  He was still staring at the door. It stayed closed. Ben wasn’t going to come back. And it wasn’t as if the man could have mistaken Gavin’s interest. Gavin couldn’t have been any clearer. If Ben had wanted to do something about it, he would have. Which meant that no matter how much Ben joked around with him… or how intimate his touch felt… or how often Gavin’s heart raced when he was around… Gavin needed to accept, once and for all, that the most they would ever be was friends.

  Which was enough.

  Because Ben was a good friend.

  A great friend.

  Amazing, really.

  And hopefully, despite the man’s obvious discomfort with Gavin’s attraction, they would be able to stay friends. Because even though Gavin obviously couldn’t keep living with him forever, the thought of not having Ben in his life at all wasn’t something he wanted to face. The man got him. Made him laugh. Calmed his anxiety and lifted his spirits and made him feel both utterly secure and totally free to be himself. Ben acted like all the traits that had annoyed Gavin’s boyfriends in the past were charming, and the way the man looked at him sometimes… Gavin groaned. No. He wasn’t going to go there. Ben’s sister had said it at dinner: Ben liked to take in strays. He was a helper. He did things for people, took care of them, looked out for them. Ben had a way of giving Gavin his entire attention, of making him feel like he was special, like he was important to him… but Gavin had to remember that that was just the way Ben was. It wasn’t necessarily personal, no matter how it might feel.

  Like that massage.

  Ben had just been trying to help him out.

  Gavin’s cock jerked at the memory, and he balled his hands into fists, willing it to calm down. To stop wanting. Although… maybe that wasn’t necessary. After all, there was nothing wrong with wanting, as long as he was willing to accept that he couldn’t have. And maybe if he let himself give in to wanting, if he let himself imagine all the things he’d never get, he could finally let it go. In fact, it might be the only way he could. Because really, for as tired as he was, there wasn’t much chance he’d be able to sleep if he didn’t do something about the painfully hard erection Ben had left him with.

  Good Lord, he couldn’t ever remember getting so hard, so fast.

  One minute his entire world had narrowed to the painful cramp in his leg, and the next he’d been flat on his back with Ben’s huge hands working their magic, pulling out the pain as if it had never been.

  Stripping off his clothes like a man on a mission.

  The moment Ben had reached for his zipper, Gavin’s cock had started to swell in response. If Ben hadn’t been so quick to flip him onto his stomach—and God, how hot had that been, to be manhandled like that?—the effect he had on Gavin would have been obvious a hell of a lot sooner. Gavin had been torn between letting himself enjoy it and trying not to embarrass himself. For all that Ben had said he wanted to help with Gavin’s sore muscles, his touch had felt anything but clinical. It had been more like an exploration, and it had felt so damn good that Gavin had almost wanted to purr. Or moan. Or just straight-up beg.

  Spread your legs.

  Gavin groaned, giving in to the inevitable and slipping a hand into his boxers and wrapping it around his cock. He wasn’t used to being told what to do in the bedroom. To having someone handle him like they had every right to. But holy fuck—his hips jerked as he thrust into his hand with another low moan—he could already tell that the sound of Ben’s deep voice ordering him around was going to be a go-to fantasy from now on.

  It had been a long time since Gavin had been fucked.

  A long time since he’d wanted to be.

  He was versatile, but it had been years since he’d bottomed. Since anyone had asked him—told him—to spread his legs for them. But God, he definitely wanted it now. Wanted Ben. Wanted those big hands back on his body, sliding over his ass, pushing his boxers out of the way and spreading him open.

  How does that feel?

  His brain readily supplied Ben’s voice, the other man’s earlier words fitting in perfectly with Gavin’s fantasy. Except fantasy-Ben’s voice would be thick with desire, his breath hot against the back of Gavin’s neck. Ben’s weight would pin him to the mattress as he eased his way inside him, slipped a hand underneath him to stroke his cock, thrust… all the way… into him…

  Gavin shoved a fist into his mouth, stifling his groan.

  God, he wanted that.

  Wanted to feel Ben on top of him, wanted one of those huge hands to take charge of his cock, wanted the sweat slicking his body to be Ben’s, the friction as he writhed against the sheets to be from both of them. And oh, holy hell—his balls tightened up with a surge of pressure, a hot rush ready to explode—he wanted to fuck Ben, too.

  Gavin’s hand clenched around his cock as the image flashed in his mind, and then his hips slammed up, one final thrust through the tight constriction of his fist as his orgasm ripped through him like a tsunami. He cried out, biting down on his knuckles as the needy sound exploded out of him without warning. The pain was a sharp contrast to the tingling waves of pleasure that threatened to carry him away, that pulsed through him as he shot out his release in long, hot bursts, coating his stomach… his chest… his chin. It emptied him out and filled him up, erotic urgency replaced with a warm satisfaction that made it impossible to move. That made him want to melt into the mattress as his earlier exhaustion hit him anew.

  It made him want to wrap himself in the memory of what he’d never have and let it carry him into the dream of what he wished could be.

  So he did.

  10

  Gavin

  It was still dark out when Gavin opened his eyes, but after a year and a half of waking at 3 a.m., his internal clock insisted that it was time to get up. He rolled over to grab his phone from the bedside table to double-check the time, b
ut it wasn’t there. Right. It was probably still in the pocket of his jeans. On the floor. Where Ben had tossed them after stripping Gavin down.

  Gavin’s cock stirred at the memory. He swung his legs out of bed quickly—wincing as his broken foot jarred against the bed frame—and hopped over to the crumpled pile of his clothes in an effort to avoid going there again. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it, but thoughts of Ben were too addictive. He was going to need to clamp down hard on his attraction to the other man if he was going to have any chance of avoiding getting more attached than it would be smart to.

  Gavin pulled out his phone.

  3:03

  He laughed softly. Now that he’d weaned himself off the painkillers, his body had fallen right back into the rhythm he’d trained himself to follow ever since opening Delicious. The only problem was what to do with himself now that he was awake, since he couldn’t exactly head in to start the morning baking. His forehead creased in an automatic frown at the thought. Lucy had stepped in to handle all the daily tasks needed to open the bakery, along with basic management, but even though she reported in to him every day, he still couldn’t help worrying that something would go wrong if he wasn’t there to take care of it. Not that she’d given him any reason to doubt her. On the contrary, everything at Delicious appeared to be running like clockwork in his absence.

  Which was good.

  If he could just bring himself to trust it.

  Gavin sighed, sitting back on the edge of the bed to work his jeans on over his cast and then tapping out a quick text to Lucy.

  Ready to start the baking?

  He rolled his eyes at himself the moment he hit send. God. She was going to think he was micromanaging. His phone pinged with her reply almost immediately.

  About to step in the shower. I’ll be there by 4. I’ve got Suze coming in at 8.

  The new hire she’d talked him into a few weeks before his accident. He grinned. Suze was enthusiastic and smart, and they’d already seen a spike in sales from her bubbly personality at the front counter. Still, he wondered if he should ask Ben to drop him off at Delicious when he went into the bank later, so Gavin could pitch in—