by Jerry Cole
“Only You”
An MM Gay Romance
Jerry Cole
© 2021
Jerry Cole
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.
Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images and are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.
Edition v1.00 (2021.04.19)
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Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Bob, Jim Adcock, Earleen Gregg, RB, Big Kidd, and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.
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Table of Contents
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter One
There was something missing from Bradley Miles’ outfit and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. It was something small and non-descript, something the average person might not even notice were they not told. It was like a living room without a rug, or a bathroom without a mirror. Sure, the room still worked without said addition, but it just didn’t feel right.
Bradley started with his shoes. They were tweed-colored Nike Air-Force Ones, the newest range bought right off the fucking production floor they were so darn fresh. From there, he went to his jeans; slim-legged black jeans with tears at the knees and rolled up at the ankles to separate them from the shoes. Up a little further was his short-sleeved button-down shirt, a black and green stripped number that was undone down toward the middle of his chest to show off his tanned skinned, hard abs and thick pecs. And then there was his face... although there was nothing wrong with that.
But even still... there was something missing.
Bradley did another once over of himself, going from piece to piece to make sure it all worked. He was currently standing in the middle of his bedroom, underneath some dull top-down lighting that he had bought specifically for occasions like this. The dullness of the lighting made his skin look browner, his clothes look edgier, and hid any blemishes he might have been harboring. Right in front of him too was a ‘skinny’ full-length mirror that he always looked good in. Fuck, he’d bought the mirror because of how magical it was.
A quick turn on the spot, with a look over his shoulder in an effort to try and catch whatever it was off-guard, like it might have been hiding and then come out when it thought Bradley was no-longer looking. But, nothing...
No! There was something. And Bradley wasn’t going to leave this room until he knew what it was. Tonight was as big and important a night as Bradley had ever had, or at least it was going to be, and nothing but the best would do.
Time wasn’t on Bradley’s side either. He did a quick check of his new, luxury watch and saw that he had maybe five minutes until he needed to leave. Would it be worth doing a quick change? Trying something new? Hoping that worked?! Bradley wasn’t sure. He bit into his lip, was about to come to a decision when a screech from beyond his closed bedroom door had him wishing he was already long gone... which he so clearly wasn’t.
“Brad!” His mother called from what sounded like the kitchen... but she was also so darn loud that she might have been calling from the neighbor’s house for all he knew. “Bradles!” she called again.
Bradley grimaced. His eyes darted to his closed door. For a moment he actually considered locking the darn thing, especially when he heard his mother’s footsteps powering through the house and toward it. But then his eyes glanced back to his reflection and in that moment, he saw what was wrong.
“Oh!” Bradley yelped excitedly. “Duh!” He slapped at his forehead and hurried to his dresser just as the door flew open and his mother stormed on in.
“Oh good, you’re still here.” She breathed a sigh of relief, but then her eyes moved across the room and landed on his bed. There, lay a pile of clothing so high that mountaineers might have considered scaling it. “Bradley! What on earth —”
“I’m getting ready,” Bradley explained without looking. “It’s all clean, don’t worry.” He fished around in his jewelry box until he found exactly what he was looking for. “Got you,” he grinned.
It was a silver chain. That’s all. A simple little silver chain that he’d bought years ago at a second-hand clothing store. It might have cost him five dollars, if that, but he’d worn it so many times that he wouldn’t sell it for the world. And indeed, when Bradley slipped that silver chain over his neck and then turned to check himself out one more time, a sly, satisfied smile spread across his thick lips that could only mean one thing: he was ready.
“You look nice,” his mother offered as Bradley did a little twirl in the mirror. “Seeing Jackson?”
“Of course.” Bradley did a quick look around his bedroom, for no other reason than to see where everything was in case his mother decided to have a snoop later on. She told him she never did, but he wasn’t about to trust her.
“And where will he be taking you tonight?”
“That Italian place, Friggitoria — we’ve never been and I’ve wanted to go for ages.”
“Oh no, carbs,” his mother joked. “Better ju
st have the salad.”
Bradley rolled his eyes and went to step past his mother so as to leave, go to dinner and hopefully not be back until at least tomorrow afternoon. “Don’t wait up.”
As Bradley made for the door, his mother stepped in front of him. “Hold onto your horses.” She threw both arms out and stood in the doorway, blocking the exit like a line-backer. “I braved this cesspit for a reason, you know.”
“It wasn’t to tell me how handsome I look – which you still haven’t, by the way.” He fluttered his eyelashes at his mother sarcastically.
She returned the gesture with a tight-lipped smile. “You’re my baby boy. You always look handsome. But, no. That’s not why I came. I just got off the phone with —”
“Mum, I really need to get going.” Bradley hopped from one foot to the other and eyed the space where his mother stood. For a moment too, he considered just walking right through her... but that idea lasted for about all of one second.
Bradley was a well-built individual. At twenty-five years of age, he was arguably in the best shape of his life. Tall, broad shoulders and a ridiculously muscular torso region were just some of the highlights. Seriously, the number of hours he’d spent in the gym working on it, and then checking out his gains afterward, was criminal. But the flip side to this was that he got his build from his mother. She was over six foot tall, very wide in the back and looked like she’d be able to throw him over her shoulder if she so desired.
“— your bank,” his mother finished as if hadn’t spoken. “I just got off the phone with your bank and I want to talk about your spending.”
Bradley groaned. “Moooooooom. Really?”
“Yes, really.” His mother crossed her arms, but also took a step forward as she did. “I’m worried about you. That money wasn’t meant to just be – hey!” she shouted as Bradley quickly darted around her and out the door. “Get back here!”
“Sorry. Can’t. Love you!” Bradley shouted with a wicked grin as he hurried through his house – or rather, his mother’s house – and outside.
Somehow, and Bradley honestly had no idea how, his mother beat him outside! As he graced the driveway with his presence, he came to a sudden stop at the sight of her leaning against his car, arms crossed, glare rueful. She wasn’t going to be giving up that easy.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Bradley tried as he hit the unlock button on his car keys. It was a nice car too, a 2018 black Lexus that had gotten him laid exactly twice.
“Your grandpa left you that money as a back-up – in case you’d ever need it for something important,” she pleaded.
“That’s what I’ve been spending it on.”
“Clothes? Cars? Jewelry!” she exclaimed. “I think your grandfather was leaning more in the direction of bills, and debts and... and travel! This...” she indicated to the car, still sitting idle. “This is just a waste.”
“Jackson likes it.” Bradley reached the car and popped the door open.
“I bet he does,” his mother said with obvious disdain.
“I’m an adult, mom. I should be able to spend my money on whatever I want.”
“An adult, are you?” she chuckled. “Tell me exactly, how does one turn on the washing machine? Huh?”
Half-way in the car, Bradley balked. He had no idea.
“Or cook... I don’t know, pasta? Or rice!” His mother raised an eyebrow at him, looking very proud of herself. “And I don’t know too many adults that still live in their childhood rooms and have their mother’s make them breakfast every —”
"Do you want me to move out?” Bradley challenged. He knew that this was actually his mother’s biggest nightmare and just the threat would silence any bickering.
“And how do you suppose to do that?” she continued, not seeming at all daunted by the threat. “You don’t have a job – and little money too, now that you’ve blown most of it.”
Bradley’s face dropped. His mother could call him out on his inability to cook. She could call him out on his lack of general knowledge when it came to something as silly as doing the laundry, or going grocery shopping, or cleaning the house. But if there was one thing he would not stand for, it was having his work put down. And right in front of him!
“I’m going to dinner now,” he said calmly. “If tonight goes as well as I think it will... well, maybe you’ll get your wish.”
This time, it was his mother’s turn to look worried. “What does that mean?”
Bradley smirked and climbed in the car.
“Bradley. What does that mean?” She asked again, looking panicked. “Hello? Bradles?!”
But Bradley ignored her. He turned the car on, pumped the stereo to full volume and took off from the house without so much as a glance in his mother’s direction. It felt good too, having the final say like that. No doubt she’d spend the whole night and next day wondering what on earth he had meant. If only he could hang around and watch.
But he couldn’t. Not tonight. With his outfit looking as good as it did, and Bradley looking as good as he did by extension, there was no time to gloat. Tonight was going to be big. Huge even! And truly, he could not wait.
***
“You’re breaking up with me?!”
“That’s what I just said.”
“But... but... you’re breaking up with me?”
“Do you want me to write it down?”
“I don’t... how are you... you’re breaking up with me?!!!!”
Bradley didn’t know what else to say. Fuck, it was a miracle that he could speak at all! He had come to dinner tonight, expecting some sort of magical, transcendent evening. Instead, he was given the social equivalent of a pie being thrown in his face. Jackson, his boyfriend, his one true love, was breaking up with him.
“Please don’t make a scene,” Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes. “If I had known you would be a little drama queen about it, I wouldn’t have chosen such a nice spot.” He had his arms crossed, his lip curled and was fixing Bradley with a look of utter distaste.
It was perhaps a godsend that Bradley had now crossed into a moment of pure speechlessness, so that he could digest what had just happened without saying anything that might cause more embarrassment. Not that he really cared about that right now! He was so darn mortified he could have died.
Tonight was his and Jackson’s six-month anniversary and he was so sure they were going to take it to the next level. For Bradley, this most likely meant becoming ‘official’ with the possibility of living together... but that did seem a touch too soon. Although for Jackson, he would have considered it.
Even now, after having his heart broken, Bradley was still frustratingly smitten by just how darn sexy Jackson was. It was his square jaw and thick lips. No! It was his short cut curly hair and thick lashes. No! It was his bulging chest, his thick thighs, his ample cock! No! It was... it was... it was all of it! Jackson was a God among men, and he had chosen Bradley... until he hadn’t.
“Why?” Bradley spoke into his chest. He didn’t dare look at Jackson either, lest he fall for the man all over again.
“Really?” Jackson fidgeted in his seat; so obviously wanting to get the heck out of the restaurant. “You want to do this? Now?”
“Yes,” Bradley said softly, still into his chest. The world was spinning slightly, but he was slowly regaining his composure. “I want to... I deserve to know why.”
Jackson sighed so loud that the table next to them must have been able to hear. “You’re too young. It’s as simple as that.”
“Too young!” Bradley exclaimed, before quickly dropping his voice and hissing across the table. “I’m only two years younger than you!”
“In years, maybe,” Jackson shrugged. “But, Brad... come on. You’re twenty-five and you still live with your mom —”
“I’m moving out soon.”
“You can’t cook, I’ve never once seen you do anything close to a chore —”
“So, you’re ending it? Because I don’t
know how to make a stir-fry?”
“And you haven’t worked once since I met you – not once!” Jackson was sitting up now, as if listing Bradley’s fault had gotten him invested. “You keep telling me that any day now it’s going to happen. But guess what, Brad? An opportunity isn’t going to just fall from the sky and land in your lap. You have to make it happen – and you just don’t want to. Or care to. I dunno, but that’s a fact.”
Bradley had never really considered himself an emotional person, but right now there was a storm raging inside of him. Gone was the self-contempt and pity. It had instead given way to anger, and resentment, and an urge to be proven correctly.
If there was one thing that Bradley hated, one thing! It was people talking about his job to him like they knew what they were talking about, when more often than not, they had no idea. Bradley was an actor, or at least an aspiring one. And one day he would be a working actor too. But it just hadn’t happened for him yet. And it would! He knew it would. It was his destiny. Right now, it was just a matter of being patient and waiting for the right role.
But try telling Jackson that. Or his mother. Or his friends. They all told him to get real and get an actual paying job, or to take smaller roles that were beneath him. None of them knew, but they all loved to talk about it.
“Fact, is it?” Bradley spoke through his teeth. “Fact?”
Jackson held up his hands in feigned self-defense. “It’s not just the acting,” he continued a little too coolly. “Honestly, mate. Like I said, you’re just a little too young. I’m twenty-eight next month, I have a job, a house, life experience – fuck, you’ve never even left the country.”
“Have to!” Bradley protested stupidly.
“Huh? When?”
“Well...” Bradley thought quickly. “Not yet – but next month. I’m going overseas. For a whole month too.”
Jackson crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”